#fear fluff

[kedreeva]

uh, okay. i'm very scared to ask but : rabbit that's not really a rabbit...?

yeah, there's, like. a small god, shaped like a rabbit, that lives in my yard. I would say it's a normal rabbit except it's not. It won't move from my driveway if I'm trying to drive out and it was there first. I can walk up within a few feet of it, and it will turn and just look at me like what do you want? It's the only rabbit that freaks the hell out of all my birds, they CANNOT be directed or communicated with when this rabbit comes around, they will do nothing but stand on alert and stare at it making a soft warning call. I've caught it SEVERAL times now standing nose to nose with one of my peacocks, and it just looks at me and walks away when I catch them. hawks and falcons and eagles and owls constantly pass over my yard, and it is full of rabbits that do not hide from them, and I've never seen evidence of one being taken. You know the moment you walk into a very dark room and maybe it's a room you've been in before and maybe you don't believe in ghosts, but also it's still dark and your little leftover lizard hindbrain goes "anything could be inside of here waiting for me" the second before you turn on the light? It's like that feeling, except in the shape of a rabbit. i didn't ask for any of that.

[chichikoi]

jealousy, jealousy (?)

synopsis: asking them for someone else's number. pairing: diluc, childe, al haitham, wriothesley x gn! reader fandom: genshin impact genre: fluff warnings: mentions of cheating, insecurity(?) a/n: my first smau :o definitely have something big planned, but this is me trying. hahehwehwjehjehe.

bonus: kazuha !

[saetoshi]

itoshi sae can’t sleep well when you’re gone. he’s too used to the feeling of your warmth next to his on the bed.

he spends his nights lying awake, a frown on his face as he rolls around to your side of the bed. he gets a wink of sleep before his alarm goes off. his brows furrow as he contemplates throwing his phone against the wall. (he never does—he hates the thought of not seeing your face pop up on his lock screen more than going another day without sleep).

his phone buzzes in his hand, an incoherent grumble leaving his lips before he rolls out of bed. he glances at the screen, disappointment bubbling in his chest when he sees the text isn’t yours.

he goes through the motions when you’re gone—his eyes lingering a little too long on your bottle of soap on the shower’s shelves. his hand subconsciously reaches for your shampoo, his heart swelling when the fresh, fruity scent fills his senses. he doesn’t linger for too long when brushing his teeth, his eyes actively avoiding your missing toothbrush.

sae can’t stand going to practice when you’re away. somehow, he gets more irritable than usual. he gets pickier with the passes he gives—even pickier with the way his teammates receive the passes. it’s bad enough that his coach sends him home on days like these. (it’s even worse how his manager lectures him on the way home).

he expects emptiness when he opens the door to his apartment, a sour look on his face. he kicks the door closed, a loud slam echoing through the place, his eyes shut closed as he tries to calm down.

“what’d the door ever do to you?”

his eyes snap open, his head whipping to the side. his annoyance melts away almost immediately—the corners of his eyes softening the longer he looks at that grin on your lips.

“nothing,” he breathes out, kicking off his shoes in a hurry before closing the distance between the two of you.

a smile worms its way onto his lips when you stretch your arms out. he walks into your embrace, hugging you tight until you’re patting his back and telling him you can’t breathe.

he rests his chin on your shoulder, his eyes drifting to your suitcase next to the couch. “when did you get back?” he asks, his voice soft.

“not too long ago,” you reply, gently rubbing circles on his upper back. you chuckle when he pecks the crook of your neck, giving him a small squeeze. he huffs, his arms tightening around you before he kisses your clavicle.

“i missed you,” he whispers, the words muffled by the fabric of your shirt.

“i know,” you say, patting his back in a soothing manner, “i missed you too, sae.”

“don’t leave for long ever again,” he adds, pulling back just enough to look at you. he frowns when you laugh, bringing his hand up to flick your forehead.

“i was only gone for a week,” you grumble, rubbing the spot he flicked. your eyes scan his face, your brows furrowing slightly. “you’ve been gone for longer.”

“it’s different,” he murmurs, the tips of his ears flushing. “because we’re on different timezones.” (it makes ignoring the distance easier, he wants to add. but he won’t—not today, anyway).

you sigh, faintly shaking your head. he tsks, pouting as he rests his forehead against yours, “it’s not the same when we’re in the same time, but in different places.”

his hands gently pry yours from his back, the corners of his lips quirking up into the hint of a smile when he laces his fingers through yours. his eyes find yours, a soft hum leaving his lips. “don’t leave for too long ever again,” he repeats, his words hushed.

“it was just a week,” you murmur, your eyes softening in amusement.

“a week too long,” he quips, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. you open your mouth to reply before he cuts you off, “don’t ever leave for too long without me ever again.”

you puff your cheeks, softly sighing before you nod. “okay,” you say, shaking your head when he smiles. he can’t help the laugh that escapes his mouth when you call him a spoiled brat under your breath.

“good,” he says, giving you a quick peck.

“good,” you echo, leaning up to give him a peck in return.

a soft hum leaves your lips, your eyes warm as you gently tug him into the bedroom. (neither of you choose to say something about the way he grabs your suitcase as you drag him away).

he doesn’t complain when you shove him down on the bed, placing his head on your pillow before leaning down to kiss his forehead.

“i’m too old to be tucked into bed,” he says, his eyes following your movements as you pull up the comforter to his chin. (still, he can’t help the grin growing on his lips when you smack his knee).

“just go to sleep,” you say, hoisting your suitcase on his side of the bed to unpack. your eyes flicker to his, a teasing smile on your lips, “you look uglier with those bags under your eyes.”

“i hate you.”

“whatever you say,” you stick your tongue out at him.

“i missed you,” he yawns, his eyes struggling to stay open.

“i missed you too,” you reply, your voice full of affection when you glance at him.

“you better be here when i wake up,” he murmurs, yawning once more as his eyes close. there’s a smile on his lips as he drifts off to sleep, his heart lighter than it’s been for the week.

“i wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else.”

[sleepwalkersqueen]

Healthy Birb >:3

He's very kitten shaped ur honor

[alastor-simp]

"I See No Fear In Your Eyes." - Alastor x Reader

(This story includes some of the pilot from Hazbin Hotel)

"Oh no, that didn't go as planned." Switching off the TV in the hotel lobby, you heaved a sigh. You had just seen the 666 news broadcast that showed Charlie explaining the hotel and redeeming demons. She had broken into song, and ended up being laughed at by the residents watching. It slowly became worse when Angel appeared on the news, during a turf war with some snake guy, making Charlie's situation worse. Soon after that the interview turned into an all out brawl between Katie Killjoy and Charlie, leading to the camera to cut off. Your name was Y/N, and you had just arrived in Hell five days ago. The fall you experienced was not pleasant, almost causing broken bones. Charlie happened to be in the area, and rushed you back to the Hotel. It took you a while to process it, but you soon realized you were in Hell, which confused you since you never sinned in your life. Charlie was nice enough to explain everything to you, as well as how she was the princess of hell.

Well that definitely shocked you when she told you that. How could the princess of hell be such a sweet and kind individual? Her personality was like a warm hug, very inviting. After she patched you up, she introduced you to Vaggie, her girlfriend, and Angel Dust, their first patron. Smiling, you introduced yourself, which caused a smirk from Angel Dust and a slight glare from Vaggie until she calmed down and shook your hand. Inspired by Charlies ideas, you volunteered to help with her dreams for the Hotel, earning a giant hug from her. There were many things that needed improvement here, so it was decided that advertising and handling the front desk would be suitable.

Soon the door to the lobby opened, where Angel Dust, Vaggie, and Charlie walked in. Vaggie clearly had a migraine, with the way she rubbed her head, and slouched on the couch. Angel Dust had grabbed a popsicle from the cooler, licking it. Charlie took a seat on a crate, appearing very distraught. Angel Dust made a comment about getting more food for the hotel, since there should be a boatload of sinners making their way here. "Not helping Angel" you thought to yourself. Charlie sunk down more on the crate, making Angel feel bad, but he wasn't good with comfort so he walked to the couch where Vaggie was staying. Moving closer to Charlie, you placed a hand on her back, rubbing circles. "Are you okay?" you asked. Charlie looked up and smiled, yet it seemed forced. She jumped off the crate and went to the door, heading outside. Wondering what she was doing, your feet carried you to the door. Leaning closer to hear her, it appeared she was calling someone. Her mom? It was a bit hard to hear, but you heard the lines of "Dad was right about me." Oh no, Charlie. The aching in your heart was painful. Once she came back inside, she was looking at the ground. Wrapping your arms around her, you pulled her into a hug. Charlie tensed, but eased into it, whispering a thanks. "You are trying your best Charlie. This project will be rocky, but its not impossible. Me and everyone here will support you. Trust me." Charlie squeezed back at your words, until she let go. The smile on her face was bright, vibrant. She appeared to be feeling better. Motioning your head to Vaggie, you told her to sit with her girlfriend. Nodding, she walked towards the couch, joining the others.

"Knock-knock. Knock-knock-knock" Sounds of knocking began to resonated from the lobby door. "Who could that be?" Opening the door, you look to see who it was. Standing in front of you was a very tall man. He was wearing a striped red suit, that matched his pants. His face adorned a monocle and a microphone was in one of his hands. The most noticeable thing on him was his smile, outstretched. to inhumane proportions. His eyes glowed a crimson red, as he gazed below to look at you. "Hellooooooo~!" came from his mouth, sounding like static. Opening the door further, you smiled: "Hello sir! How may I help you?"

***Alastor POV***

Alastor continued to gaze at the little demon in front of him, smiling widely back at him. "What a strange reaction!" He thought to himself. He expected a scream of terror or the sound of the door slamming against him, but not this. The eyes that peered back at him were sparkling, no fear contained in them whatsoever. "Is everything okay?" The demon in front of him, tiled her head, worried as to why he went silent. Shaking his head, Alastor remembered what he came here for.

***Your POV***

The man in front of you seemed to be thinking hard, before he bent down to your level. "Alastor my dear! Pleasure to be meeting you! Quite a pleasure!" His hand had grabbed yours, pulling you closer to his face, before shaking it enthusiastically. "Nice to meet you Alastor. My name is Y/N." you said, shaking his hand back. Alastor's smile got wider. "Ah! What a charming name!" His hand let go of yours, before he stood up to his regular height. Thanking him for the compliment, you moved to push the door back: "Would you like to come in?" you asked, moving your hand towards the door, motioning him to enter. Alastor smiled, showing more of his sharp teeth. "Why thank you my dear!" He entered inside the hotel, while you moved away from the door to close it. There was the sound of metal being drawn, causing you to jump. Vaggie had appeared in front of Alastor, holding a sharp spear. ""STOP RIGHT THERE! Cabrón hijo de perra! I know your game. And I'm not gonna let you hurt anyone here! You pompous, cheesy, talk show shitlord!" Vaggie was glaring at the man, furiously as she held the spear against his chest. Stepping between the both of them, you raised your hand. "WOAH WOAH! Vaggie! What are you doing?!" The action you did was enough for Vaggie to drop the spear down, but she was still gazing at the both of you in anger "I'm defending this hotel! That's the radio demon, the most powerful being in all of Hell!"

***Alastor POV***

Alastor was left a bit in shock at what you just did. He had just met you and here you were, stepping in to stop the other demon. "Quite bizzare!" He thought. He had heard the other demon, Vaggie, tell you that he was the radio demon, most feared in hell. He observed you listening to Vaggie, letting you know who he really was. Excitement filled him, waiting for those eyes of yours to become struck with fear. Surprisingly, when you turned around to look him up and down, he saw no fear once again. Why? "He doesn't seem so bad." he heard you say as you smiled at him, before looking back at Vaggie. "Oh ho! I think I'm going to like this one!" The sharpness in his smile got bigger, as he walked a bit closer to the both of you. He placed his hand on your shoulder, giving you a closed eye smile, as he pushed you gently back, before turning back towards Vaggie. ""Dear, if I wanted to hurt anyone here, ̵̹̇͜I̸̻͆ ̶̰̏̍w̵̝̟͒́o̴̤̾ū̶̗͘͜l̶͚͂͝d̶̼͎̉͐ ̷̝̘͗̉h̸̫͌͊á̶͖͉v̶̺͚̋̇e̶̮̽ ̴̼̞͌d̸͙͚͋ǒ̸̤͎͑ň̴̠̟̕e̵̢̛̓ ̸̞͗͜͝s̶̺̹̾ǫ̷͋̚ ̴̼͋͋a̶̜̻̒̒l̸͓̙̃̉r̶̞͛ě̸̖̟̈́a̵̗͊d̷̦̔y̵̙͙̽͒.̵̹͝"

Vaggie’s eyes were glazed over with shock from Al's display of power. However, you were gazing at Al with slight fascination. A bit shocked, yes, but not scared. He apparently wanted to help out with the hotel, shocking both Charlie and Vaggie. Despite seeing it as wacky nonsense, he wanted to volunteer his services to Charlie while also getting some entertainment out of it. Husk and Niffty were added into the mix after that.

**Few Months Later**

It had been a while since that whole ordeal. It was still difficult to find new patrons for the hotel, but it was coming along. The snake guy you saw on 666 news, Sir pentious, had joined in the program as well. He was like an evil mad scientist/inventor, except evil didn't quite fit the bill for him. He was a softie and a gentleman, and you were glad he decided to give the hotel a try. The relationships you had with everyone grew the more you stayed with them. The relationship you had with Alastor was the most surprising to everyone. The two of you were like two peas in a pod. His mannerisms and dad jokes always brightened your day. The kindness in your soul as well as the genuine concern for his well being warmed his cold heart. Alastor was still baffled with how you were with him. It was an unusual feeling, to have a person who knew who he was and what he did in Hell and his past, and still treat him normally. There were moments where he imagined you were hiding your true feelings underneath the kind gestures and smiles you gave him, and he hoped that was the case, but at the same time he didn't want it to be.

Inside his radio tower, he was giving one of his signature broadcasts. The only difference in is that you were in the room. There was a small corner where you were sitting. Your irises scanned the book in front of you while your ears listened to Alastor's voice. Al was told time and time again that his voice was one of a kind by you, which left him slightly bashful. It led to you eventually hanging around his workspace, just to listen to him, but also to spend more time together. Taking a slight break, his blood red eyes beamed over towards you, observing you. There were still nagging thoughts in the back of his mind, and it was driving him to the point of insanity, if they were not answered.

"My dear, may I ask you a small question?" He turned his body around, chair spinning to face you. Looking up from your book, you smiled and set it down. Getting up, you walked closer to him: "Yes Al? What is it?" Snapping his fingers, the chair that you were sitting on before levitated to where you stand, motioning you to sit back down. As you did so, your eyes continued to look at Al. His smile never left his face, but his eyes held an emotion you couldn't decipher. Confusion? Melancholy? "This had been meddling in my mind for quite some time. I have been around for a millennium in hell and the fearful gazes were always common to see. However! Your eyes never shown an ounce of fear during our time together." After his dialogue, he waited to hear what you had to say. A bit shocked at Al's question, you looked at him, wondering what brought this up. Hesitantly, you asked for his hand. Raising his eyebrow, he pondered why, yet he still extended his hand out, like he was giving a handshake.

Laughing at his antics, you grabbed his hand, holding it upright in front of both of you. Webbing your fingers together, you filled the gaps between them, causing Al to tense a bit. "I'm sure since you are the radio demon, you were prone to being run from and feared. But, there is more to you then just the radio demon, feared overlord in Hell. Something about you intrigued me the first day you arrived. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I wanted to know more about you. The more I got to spend time with you, is when I started to learn more about you, the real you. You're gentleman, bit wacky yet polite. You tell funny dad jokes to everyone. You're handsome as hell. You are an amazing cook. You speak French. Your singing is incredible plus your dancing. The static nature of your voice is soothing. The confidence you carry towards your foes is admirable. The power you yield is dark, but has its beauty too. You have a kind heart, despite hiding it from others. That's the Al I have gotten to know and care for, and despite your past and misdeeds. I will never grow to fear you ever."

Stunned was the correct way to put what state he was left in after your small speech. The whole time he was listening to you, the faster his heart raced. All those words that came flowing out of your mouth was giving him goosebumps and an odd sensation in his stomach. His other hand went to cover his face before moving down to cover his mouth, failing to conceal his rosy cheeks. "I-I see." Words were hard for him at the moment. “Haha. This is the first time I have ever seen you speechless.” Leaning closer towards him, you admired him up close. His microphone played a laugh track after you said that, causing Al to become more flustered, darting his eyes away.

Getting up from your seat, you were still holding his hand. “Al, look at me.” A hand was placed against his cheek. Gazing back over to you, Alastor removed his hand that was covering his mouth. The signature smile was gone, and on his face was a very small grin. Moving slowly, your lips had made their way to his forehead, giving it a peck. Radio screech! You were going to be the end of him. Heaving a deep sigh, his hand laid upon yours that was attached to his cheek. His eyes looking back at you were tender. “Thank you, my dear.”

-END-

Tagging:

@pepperycookie , @yourdoorisunlocked , @ghostdoodlen , @aceofcards0-0 -0, @jyoongim , @saturnhas82moons , @unholycheesesnack , @luujjvi , @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @veethewriter , @rains-sleeping , @danveration , @demoarah , @cookiekyo , @iiotic , @delectableworm , @91062854-ka @alastorsgoldie

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Advanced Interrogation Technique: Dog

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[archonsbane]

AND I TRY TO TALK REFINED

The one time Il Dottore speaks to you in another language, the one time he speaks to someone else in another language, and the one time you give him a taste of his own medicine.

pairing. dottore x reader

tags & content warnings. gn!reader. reader is the tsaritsa's child. reader is referred to by they/them. there's one (1) mildly suggestive sentence (and it's in a different language lol).

word count. 2.9k

author's note. so. i'm back from the dead. i have two fics for pantalone and one for diluc, around 8k+ words. (none of them are finished LMFAO) but of course i drop everything for this stupid ass man. the reader here is my tsaritsa’schild!reader, though this takes place before beauty is terror. this is set in the early days of their relationship and the start of dottore’s involvement in the fatui. reader's backstory is also implied here, but not outright stated. also i got inspiration from @fatuismooches lovely headcanons, though i strayed a bit far HAHA. thank you for letting me write this! and thank you to my two lovely delulu friends (you know who you are) bc i suddenly got into the mood to write because of them.  also, what is heavily implied to be the script of khaenri'ah in-game is based on latin, so i headcanon that latin is the language of khaenri'ah. also i had to sneak in a tsh reference lmfao it was too perfect not to. i promise i don't include it in all my fics it just so happens to be perfect for certain situations huhu. also i hope you guys catch all the little details i put in! reader and dottore have always been like this lol the title is from 'talk' by hozier.

You are undoubtedly the worst teacher Dottore has ever had, bar none. 

Flighty, distracted, and prone to seamlessly maneuvering to an entirely different topic without blinking an eye, leaving him dumbfounded. Your teaching sessions, if they could be called that, are filled with constant interrogations of his life and large infusions of food. Half the time you aren’t even teaching him, you’re simply rambling about whatever it is you ramble about (he’s learned to tune you out, partly because he doesn’t care and partly because he can’t understand what you’re saying). He is truly reconsidering forgoing learning Snezhnayan — at the pace you're going, he might as well take his chances and learn by himself.  

“But Mother said,” you remind him, petulantly, like a small child. Yes, the Tsaritsa commanded him to learn Snezhnayan, and commanded you to teach him, but he is greatly tempted to ask her to send another teacher. It has only been two weeks since your lessons begun and he might truly go mad. Sometimes he thinks this might be the worst thing a divine being has ever inflicted on him.

In truth, he already knows Snezhnayan, but only enough to hold a polite conversation. It is his least favorite of the languages he learned from his teachers in the Akademiya, and anyway, he never quite had a deftness for tongues. He is always most at home working with his hands, destroying and creating physical matter, covered in dust and soot, cracking open the world’s secrets like an egg. But the Tsartisa willed him to learn, and he is nothing if not a scholar. 

“But Mother said,” he mocks, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. He’s learned that you have no convictions about his personality. If anything, you seemed to embrace it. Whereas he dons a respectful — as respectful as he can conjure, anyways — mask with the Jester and the Tsaritsa, it’s… looser, with you. Still, he is careful not to cross the line. He is only allowed this because he amuses you. You've been treating him like some sort of pet to be played with whenever you desire since his coming here. “Your mother also said to teach me how to speak Snezhnayan, but this is the third time you’ve called for snacks in three hours.” 

You flash a lazy glare at him and go back to eating your beloved pastilas. “You require a tremendous amount of effort to teach.” You’ve switched back to speaking the common tongue, obviously for his sake. “You’re a horrible student.” 

“You’re a horrible teacher!” 

You sniff and take another bite of your pastry. “You’re just really bad at learning.” 

For that, you get a glance heavenward. He is tempted to simply throttle you and be done with it. Treason seems like a fair price to pay for shutting you up. But he considers his options and decides that he would rather not be on the receiving end of your mother’s wrath — it’s too fucking cold here already. Still, greatly offended by this statement, he vents out his anger by cursing at you.

In the language of Sumeru. 

He does not really think of it; his use of his mother tongue has greatly decreased since coming here, but even then, it simply rolls off his tongue as naturally as water flows from a river's mouth.

Your brows shoot up. You open your mouth, pause, and for a moment he fears he is in danger of being exiled or thrown in the dungeon. But then you cock your head to the side. “What does that mean?” You ask. 

An idea unravels in his mind, sparkling with mischief. “It means you’re bad at teaching.” 

You frown. “For some reason, I feel like you’re lying.” 

He curses at you again. Your frown deepens. There is something so satisfying about the way those frustrated lines burrow into your face. When he does it a third time, you actually put down the pastila. 

“What does it mean?” You demand. “You aren’t saying anything bad, are you?” 

It means you’re an insufferable little bastard of mean intelligence and he hopes you fall into a ditch, so yes, he definitely is saying something bad. “It means you’re the most gorgeous, most wonderful person in the world,” he says, sarcasm dripping from the syllables. When you look genuinely taken aback, he lets out a cruel, derisive scoff. “It means you should trust me more.” 

“That seems like a horrible idea.” 

He shrugs and reaches over to take one of the pastilas, light pink with a white, foamy top, vaguely aware that another one of your language lessons has gone considerably off course. Perhaps that was too light a description. It shot in one direction and came speeding back the other way. “Suit yourself, Your Imperial Highness.” 

You smack his hand away, gently. Almost too gently. “Those are mine.” 

He eats it, anyway, and learns many new colorful Snezhnayan curses for it, though he detects no real annoyance in your voice. You ring for another batch of desserts. He counts it as a successful lesson. 

He continues speaking in Sumerian when you're near. It’s the greatest of treasures, seeing you frown and demand to know what he had just uttered in your presence. Sometimes he just says the first phrase that enters his head, most times he insults you and relishes in your clueless blinking. You can't do the same to him — he's been picking up on Snezhnayan at an exponential pace, and he's made sure to memorize all of the insults and swears first. Obviously. It’s his talent for machinations that he prides himself on, but lately, he’s been deriving vicious pleasure from the fact he can speak twenty languages, though it never mattered much to him before. It’s a good, safe outlet for his annoyance whenever you’re near, which you seem to always be, nowadays. 

Even outside the language ‘lessons’ (the word lessons being used extremely lightly) you seem to trail him wherever he goes. Ambushing him in the halls, materializing in the laboratory, and in general trailing him like some attention-starved puppy. He resents it, resents the stars that float through your eyes whenever he enters your view, resents the way you immediately disengage from whatever it was that you were doing to attach yourself to him, all smiles. 

He actively avoids you, but somehow you keep running into him. On purpose or accidentally, he has no idea. He suspects it is the former.

Today is one of those days. You’re by his side, again, chatting happily about… something. He’s trying to tune you out, focusing on the long walk back to his laboratories after a meeting with the Tsaritsa. He needs to do something about that, it’s woefully inconvenient to have to walk a mile every time she calls on him. Some sort of contraption that could go up and down easily would be of great use, and he wouldn’t have to climb so many fucking stairs.

Then — it happens. In your excitement, you bump into some government official accompanied by another, what his role is Dottore does not know and does not care to, but he must be quite high up if he allows himself to glare at you for an instant before it disappears into a cool stare. Or maybe he just has a lot of gall.

"Oh, my apologies sir," you murmur, ducking your head. 

"Quite alright, Your Highness," he says smoothly, "have a good day." He turns his back and starts to mutter to his companion, their heads bent together, completely unaware that with your godly senses and his recent enhancements to his body, you both can hear every word.

"How clumsy," the first man tuts, "what does their mother teach them? She's been too soft on them."

"She lets them run amok doing whatever they please. The other day, they—"

"—yes, I heard. Look at those clothes, aren't they too plain for the heir?"

His companion makes an agreeing noise. "And the company they keep… " 

Dottore doesn't particularly care about what other people think of him, and perhaps if it was only the last sentence that had been uttered he wouldn't have said a word, but the tirade of their complaints makes irritation, absurdly, flare inside him. He whips his head back to their retreating figures, and you throw him a glaring warning, so he clenches his jaw and stays where he is. He isn't one to do nothing, however. 

“Kol khara,” he says to them, viciously. Eat shit. He hears you stifle a sound that might be a laugh and briefly wonders why exactly you would laugh. 

The men turn back around. “Excuse me?” The first one says. 

“Nothing,” he says, curtly, his eyes like sharp daggers, “go on." They throw each other confused glances but say nothing further, going further down the hall until he can no longer see their backs. You both stay in the middle of the now-empty hallway, staring silently off into the distance.

You’ve never been able to contain your curiosity for long. After a good minute of silence, you turn inquisitive eyes on him. He’s been expecting your question.

"What did you say?" You ask.

He shrugs; makes a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Nothing."

You narrow your eyes. "I know it isn't nothing. It was something bad, right? You've said it to me before.” Clever you, he thinks briefly. Nothing gets past you. When he stays enclosed in icy silence, you press on further, “I won’t be mad. It doesn’t bother me — I think it’s funny. Just tell me.” He has no idea why you would ever think it’s funny. Nonetheless, he stays silent. 

You try again. “Tell me.” 

“No.” 

“Please?” 

“No.” 

“Tell me,” you say again, but this time you slip into the voice of the noble, unshakeable heir to Winter. The two words are a command, and they leave no room for argument. He must follow. 

He sighs and runs a hand down his face. “It means I want them to eat shit.” 

A moment of silence passes and Dottore wonders if he should start running. Then, you start to laugh. A small laugh, so small he almost thinks he could cup it in his hands and never let it go. But he recognizes it as different from the laughs you’ve given him before. This one is warm and sweet, conjured from the belly upwards. Summer in a sound. 

He tries very hard not to smile when he says, “you aren’t mad?” 

“No,” you say, still laughing, “I suppose I do deserve it.” He silently agrees. “Anyways, after coming to my defense, I forgive you.” 

He snarls, that sudden irritation reviving itself. “I wasn’t coming to your defense.” 

You shrug, not looking bothered at all. “Fine. Defending yourself and by extension — and complete coincidence — me.” 

He decides it is best not to argue, and listens quietly as you walk with him back to his laboratory, chatting happily away once more. If you notice that over the next few days, his outbursts toward you decrease, you say nothing of it. And if you notice he is insulting other people more in other languages, seemingly for the sole purpose of making you laugh, you say nothing of it, too. 

You’re speaking Sumerian. 

Fluent Sumerian. Rapid-fire Sumerian, without blinking or stumbling over your words. Clean, pure Sumerian, speaking everything with the perfect enunciation of a noble. You don’t notice him behind you, utterly bemused, as you speak to a foreign dignitary from his homeland. The First drags him out of the underground labs from time to time in order to socialize and familiarize himself with the political atmosphere, but Dottore lets you do all the work for him. You engage in polite small talk, though delivered with much more enthusiasm than necessary. But the words are barely intelligible in his head. It isn’t possible that you’ve learned how to speak fluent Sumerian in such a short about of time. He will begrudgingly admit your brightness, small as it is, but even he cannot master a language within a few months. Which means there must only be one conclusion. 

When you notice him, your face morphs into one of surprised panic. Oh. He’s sure his fury is plain to see. It’s at that precise moment the dignitary — Dottore does not see the point in blessings but, Archons bless her — chooses to excuse herself, leaving you open and without a proper excuse to escape with. 

“You can speak Sumerian,” he says, plainly, having immediately taken the empty spot at your side. You take  cautious, half-step backwards. 

You look both amused and slightly abashed. 

He grits his teeth. “For how long?” 

“... since I was five." A pause. You look thoughtful. "Actually, it was your Greater Lord Rukkhadevata who first taught me."

This new piece of information surprises him so much that the flames of his anger are snuffed out, if only for a second. Then they come back raging, and he cannot contain it.

"You knew what I was saying this entire time!" He rages, jabbing an accusing finger at you. You cringe away. "You could understand all of it!"

"Not all of it—" When you see the exasperation that crosses his face, you smile. "Alright. Most of it." 

You begin to walk away, but he furiously follows you. "You lied to me!"

"You were cursing me to my face. I think it's a fair exchange." You shrug with one shoulder, eyes sparkling with mischief. "It was funny, anyway. Your cluelessness, that is." And then, "you should know, now that you know — I can speak the main languages of each nation." 

"I can too," he says haughtily, raising his chin up at you. 

"Really?" You laugh. "Cubitum eamus?"

"What?"

"Nothing." 

"What does that mean?" He demands, only half aware he's repeating the interaction you once had over a plate of pink and white sweets. He's never heard a language sounding quite like that. Perhaps it could be a dialect, but it doesn't sound similar to any currently existing language. "What language is that?"

You deliver your coup de grâce with such smooth smugness on your face. "It's Khaenri'ahn." The dead language. 

He blinks. Opens his mouth dumbly. And lunges.

As he chases you through the halls, your laughter floats warm and clear in the frigid winter air. You easily outpace him, but perhaps out of pity, you let him catch you and drag you to — well, he doesn't exactly know where he's going, only that he does not want to let you escape his rage. You thrash in his arms like a trapped animal, still controlled by a laughing fit all the while. 

"I hate you," he grumbles later, when you've calmed him with a slice of strawberry cheesecake from the kitchens. He's still quite angry, but not angry enough to not accept your peace offering. "You're horrible."

"So are you." 

A pause, then, "Teach me Khaenri'ahn," he says, leaning forward, a bright idea sparking in his chest. "There's so many texts I have yet to decipher — you have no idea the knowledge I can grasp if you teach me." He thinks of the old Ruin Golems in Sumeru. How hard it was to learn how to control them! But with your help, with your knowledge, he could crack the world open like an egg and watch its secrets spill like yolk. 

"I thought I was a bad teacher."

"Bad is better than none at all."

The utterly offended look that flashes on your face teases a grin from his mouth. "You're horrible."

"So are you."

He thinks he sees the corner of your mouth involuntarily curl upward. You twirl your fork in your fingers, humming thoughtfully. "Why should I?" 

"... For the pleasure of contributing to my research?" The look you give him tells him you're not at all convinced. He continues, "My research that is so very essential to the success of this nation?"

You scoff, but you cannot deny it. He would not be alive if he wasn't useful to Snezhnaya.

"You'll owe me," you tell him. 

He shrugs. "There's worse things in the world. Let's start."

It startles you somewhat. "What, now?"

"Yes, now. Unless you have other things to do?" 

You don't. Your language lessons with him already ended when he reached an acceptable mastery over Snezhnayan according to your mother, and he knows that though you have a schedule (mysterious and utterly incomprehensible though it is — not even he has been able to figure it out), you'd drop everything in an instant if something else interests you. Your other engagements are often boring things, too, and the only duty you ever truly commit to are the strange missions your mother sends you on, ones that could go for months on end. He's fairly certain you'll acquiesce to his request.

You pretend to consider it, before shrugging with hardwon carelessness and saying, "Fine."

You're exactly the same. Flighty, distracted, and prone to seamlessly maneuvering to an entirely different topic without blinking an eye. Half the cheesecake is eaten before you even start on the alphabet, and the journey to that is filled with endless detours that consist of bickering, fighting over the (large) cake, and kicking each other like children under his work table. His intelligence is insulted more times in half an hour than in his entire years of study at the Akademiya.

Dottore decides, with solid determination, after eating the last slice of cake, finally learning the pronunciation of the vowels and consonants, and being on the receiving end of an onslaught of Khaeri’ahn curses he truly cannot understand — which is horribly ironic considering the past few weeks — that he might as well beg the Jester for lessons instead, and no one can do a damn thing about it. He tells this to you, chin up, resolute and unwavering in his declaration. 

He never does get around to doing that. 

[vilentia]

Dark Charms

David McCall x reader

In the dimly lit ambiance of a downtown bar, the air was thick with the murmur of conversations and the occasional clink of glasses. You were there, nestled between your two best friends, Sarah and Mike, unwinding after a long week. The atmosphere was lively, the kind of place that promised forgotten worries and fleeting joys.

That night, the bar wasn't just a backdrop for casual drinks; it was where paths were destined to intersect. Sarah, ever the spontaneous spirit, was caught up in a complex situationship with a guy named Chris, who, as fate would have it, was a friend of David McCall.

David, a name you hadn't known until that night, would soon etch itself into your memory. He walked in with the kind of confident stride that turned heads, a magnetic pull in his step. His eyes found Sarah and Chris, and subsequently, you. There was an intensity in his gaze, a silent promise of something more, something deeper.

You noticed him immediately. He was undeniably attractive, with a charm that seemed to seep through the very air he breathed. When introductions were made, his hand lingered in yours a second longer, his smile a little too knowing, a little too intrigued. It was disarming, the way he looked at you, as if he could see past the facade we all wear in social settings.

As the night progressed, David's attention was unrelenting. He was charming, his words laced with an edge that was both exciting and unnerving. He shared stories that made you laugh, then think, then question. It was a rollercoaster of emotions, his presence a catalyst for a rush you hadn't anticipated.

You found yourself drawn into his orbit, captivated by the duality of his persona. On the surface, he was all charm and wit, but beneath that veneer, there was a darkness, an untamed intensity that you couldn't quite decipher. It was both a warning and an allure, a paradox that intrigued you.

Your friends noticed the chemistry, a mix of concern and curiosity in their glances. Mike's protective nature was evident, his eyes often flickering between you and David, assessing, calculating. But the night belonged to the unexpected, to the thrilling unknown.

As the bar began to empty, the reality of time creeping back in, David leaned in, his voice a low whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. "Would you like to go out with me?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for an answer.

It was a simple question, but loaded with possibilities, with the promise of exploring the enigma that was David McCall. You were at a crossroads, with the safe path on one side and the allure of the unknown on the other. And in that moment, you realized that you wanted to know more, to peel back the layers of this intriguing stranger.

Your "yes" was a whisper, a concession to the curiosity that David had ignited in you. As you left the bar, the night air felt different, charged with the potential of what was to come. David McCall was no ordinary encounter, and you, perhaps against your better judgment, were ready to delve into the mystery.

[devildomresidentt]

Leviathan Headcanons (pathetic boyfailure </3 )

Starting out strong, Left handed (derogatory)

Extremely picky eater, can go weeks eating only one food and then have a heavy disgust for the same food a few days after.

He forgets to throw out socks with holes in them, so sometimes he’ll just walk around with socks that are barely holding on by a thread.

Not only does he have a forked tongue, but he can also touch his nose with his tongue (lowkey insecure about his tongue even tho it’s like the hottest thing ever)

On the same note of his tongue, it damn near has a mind of its own.

Sometimes it just hangs out his mouth when he’s hyper focused on something and you’ll have to remind him to put it back in before it dries out.

Levi can speak to aquatic animals, none of his brothers believes him when he says it though.

And with that, he refuses to eat seafood because he claims he, “can still hear them crying and pleading for their lives”.

Levi’s favorite anime is One Piece, he loves the aquatic theme and the bond that the strawhats have.

Hates getting his hair cut with a passion, he literally won’t get it cut until it’s long enough to block his vision and effect his gaming/anime watching.

Arguably sleeps wilder than Mammon, which is one of the reasons he prefers to sleep in a bathtub rather than a bed.

Idk why but I feel it in my bones that bro is Gender-fluid, it just feels right..

Giant Crybaby, will burst into tears over the tiniest most minuscule thing ever (he just like me frl)

!Other headcanons under the cut!

Lucifer’s Ver

Mammon’s Ver

Leviathan's Ver ~ You are here

Satan's Ver

Asmodeus' Ver

Beelzebub's Ver

Belphegor's Ver

[jayflrt]

𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐒 13. banned in the name of love

the performance in question (recorded by kim sunoo):

prev | masterlist | next

SUMMARY ▸ in which you work at the starbucks where heeseung is a regular at (and considered a public enemy). also he only goes when he’s stoned off his ass.

[houseofripley]

HEYY

Can you do a rhea x fem!reader story where rhea and reader are in Highschool and have both had feeling for eachother for the longest time and both haven’t confessed but all that changes because rhea ask reader to prom and they end up kissing and it leads to something else (ifykyk😏) (smut n a lil bit of fluff too🙏)

Starry Prom Night

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT, Kissing, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Scissoring, Praise, Cheek Cupping & Kissing Galore, INSANE PLOT BUILDING FOR NO REASON LOL SORRYYYYYY IM A YEARNER (im serious this is like 67% plot building)

WORD COUNT: 3,731

A/N: this is just pure sapphic yearning on my end LMAO anyways anon i had so much fun writing this even though its all over the place!!!

also can you tell where i got impatient with all the plot building lol

“Rhea, I seriously don’t know how many more of these cheesy signs I can’t take. I think I’m gonna go insane.” You grunted, rolling your eyes to the back of your head. 

Prom season was in full swing. It was third period and you had just witnessed what had to have been the seventh promposal of the day. This year would be the mark of your and your best friend, Rhea’s senior prom. Senior prom was a date thousands of dreamed about, wanting to show up and show out one last time before waving goodbye to their highschool years. 

Every girl except you and Rhea. You both despised the thought of prom. Why would any sane person spend hundreds of dollars on an outfit just to spend their night drenched in sweat in the school gymnasium? 

Fuck that!

“Romeo O Romeo! Will thou spend your Saturday night with I, drinking punch next to the locker rooms?” Rhea mocked, elbowing your arm. 

You shook your head, pressing your lips together trying to keep your laughter silent. The commotion of classmates was soon drowned out by thoughts as your eyes met Rhea’s, causing your tightened lips to curl into a small smile.

Rhea’s blue eyes never failed to warm you. Everytime you gazed into those beachy eyes you were brought back to the day you first met the girl. Seventh grade, first period, language arts. A quiet blonde girl sporting a Pierce The Veil shirt was assigned to sit next to you. Nobody knew anything about the girl besides the fact she had just moved basically across the globe. You spent the entire period thinking of what you could possibly say to her, because what do you even say to a kid that was just relocated from South Australia all the way to some shitty suburban town? 

“Cool shirt.” 

And it fucking worked somehow. You were immediately attached to her hip. The two of you grew closer with each day that passed. You were inseparable. She was everything to you. Sleepovers every weekend. ‘Study’ sessions that were spent play fighting with each other. Singing pop-punk songs at the top of your lungs till your throats were raw. Dying your hair the same shade of blue at three in the morning. She was even at your side while your parents scolded you the morning after for said blue hair. 

Jesus Christ. Lost in her eyes again? Snap out of it already! 

“Yo, Alice in Wonderland, you okay?” Rhea playfully questioned, breaking your trance by poking at your thigh.

“Just…thinking. That’s all.” You softly chuckled. You were telling the truth, you were just thinking. Just thinking about her. Thinking about her touch, her hands, her pierced nose, her lips, her stupid cool shirts. 

══════⋆☆⋆══════

“Jesus, someone’s eager to get out of here.” You laughed, trailing behind Rhea who was booking it over to her small black Lexus.

“Dude, can you blame me? It’s like everyone has some sort of prom fever. I am not letting it catch me.” Rhea complained, ducking into the vehicle. 

You made your way to the passenger side of the car before hopping into the seat next to Rhea. “I counted eighteen of those damn signs today.” You babbled, resting your arm on the center console before trailing on, diffusing the topic, “Anyways, let’s go thrifting or something. I don’t wanna go home.”

Rhea shrugged in agreeance before pulling out of her parking spot. She knew things were tough for you at home. You had recently come out as lesbian to your parents. They weren't unsupportive but they weren't exactly supportive at the same time which had built quite a bit of tension in the household. You came out to Rhea just about two years ago, who was more than supportive. She was your number one defender, always there to threaten whichever classmate that dared to ridicule you.

You knew absolutely nothing about Rhea’s sexuality. Hell, even Rhea knew nothing about her sexuality. She only knew one thing, that she liked you. She didn’t even know when she caught feelings for you, it was like the sentiments were there since the moment you first spoke to her. She hoped as time went on the flutters she’d feel for you would pass on but recently she couldn’t seem to even push the mere thought of you out of her head, it was killing her.

The drive to the nearest thrift shop was comfortably silent…silent if you ignored the Black Veil Brides cd Rhea had blaring…

Entering the store the pair of you let out scoffed laughs as the first thing catching your attention was a large display of second hand dresses. Shaking it out of your heads and ignoring it at first you carried on to wander the isles, grabbing whatever caught your eye to try on later although you’d inevitably end back up to the racks of long dresses. You weren't a big fan of dresses but you wanted to waste as much time as you possibly could, so you decided to browse the gowns with Rhea. 

She pulled a deep maroon dress, the form fitting glittered bodice was paired with a looser, more freeing skirt. “Try it on!” Rhea pushed, shoving the dress into your arms.

“I’d look so stupid in this.” You gave Rhea a bewildered look.

“Oh c’mon just try it!”

“Rhe’ when have you ever given a shit about this stuff?”

“Dude you’re the one that wanted to waste time here…” Rhea playfully scorned, diverting your question.

“Urgh, I hate when you’re right.” You huffed, shuffling towards the dressing room. 

“How ridiculous do I look?” You pouted, opening the door of the changing room before shuffling to the closest mirror.

Rhea stood behind you, peering over your shoulder as you silently studied yourself in the mirror. You looked at Rhea through the mirror as she opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself in her tracks. “I mean it’s cute but where in the world would I wear this?” You shrugged, adjusting the straps as Rhea chewed on her cheeks.

“Wear it to prom.” Rhea timidly broke her silence.

“Why would I go to prom, Rhe’? First of all it would be so lame and second of all I’d have nobody to go with. I’m just gonna put this back.” You mumbled, turning to make your way back into the changing room.

 A hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “Go with me…” Rhea blurted out, sounding scared of her own words. Her statement caused you to turn to face her with a puzzled expression, Rhea herself even looked surprised at what she just said. Fearing your rejection she quickly added on, “Ya know, like as a joke and stuff. We can make it not lame…”

“As a joke?” Your heart that was skipping beats just seconds ago was immediately let down. 

“Yeah. It’s just a stupid idea we don’t hav-”

“No, let's go…as a joke.” You interrupted Rhea’s nervous deflection. “We’ve got nothing better to do.” You shrugged on watching Rhea’s anxieties fade into the distance as her classic cheeky smile crept upon her face.

After you swapped out of your dress you returned to Rhea who was holding up a silky black dress with a deep slit in the skirt. “This’ll work. I’m too lazy to try anything on.” She chuckled while shrugging.

“That's ballsy Rhe-Rhe.”

══════⋆☆⋆══════

Tonight was the night, you were sat atop Rhea’s bathroom counter, finishing up your makeup while Rhea was shuffling around her closet searching for a pair of shoes. It had been four weeks since Rhea ‘asked’ you to prom and you simply couldn’t keep your mind off it. Although you two planned this whole thing as a joke, something shifted ever so slightly between the two of you, maybe it wasn’t a joke, who knows. Rhea had your heart in your throat at every moment and you were the topic of every thought that popped into Rhea’s head. More than ever the both of you were head over heels for each other, just terrified the other wouldn’t reciprocate those shared feelings.

Your parents were completely unaware you’d be attending prom. You had informed them you were staying with a friend before immediately storming off to Rhea’s house. Rhea’s parents hadn’t a clue either, they were under the impression tonight would be just another night of the two of you doing nothing for hours then sneaking out to go for a drive at three in the morning. There truly wasn’t much reasoning behind this secret, you guys just wanted to have this night for yourselves without pestering parents. 

“Urgh! At this point I’m gonna go barefoot!” You could hear yet another pair of shoes be tossed to the floor. You slid off Rhea’s counter, stepped out of her bathroom and over to her closet. She was already in her dress tearing through a pile of shoes on the floor. “What has gotten into you Rhe’?” You leaned against the doorframe laughing at the fact that Rhea of all people was stressing over shoes. 

 Rhea rolled her eyes ignoring your banter. “Would it make me a hipster if I wore converse?”

“Oh absolutely, I dare you!” 

“You know I will,” Rhea retorted, picking up a black pair of the canvas shoes.

You chuckled before turning to return to the bathroom, letting Rhea know you were gonna change. You got into your dress with ease up until you came to the zipper on the back. You groaned in annoyance, reaching behind to your back attempting to wiggle the zipper to no avail.

“Rhe’, can you help me real quick?” You asked while popping your head out the door.

“Hm? What’s up?” Rhea turned around and questioned before making her way up to you, trying to keep her gaze from falling down to the hand placed on your chest, keeping the dress from completely slipping from your body.

“Zippers stuck,” You pouted, turning around. Rhea’s hand swept across the base of your neck, sweeping your hair to the side. You watched her through the mirror as she began fumbling with the metal, ultimately getting it to slide up your back.

After an awkward exchange of bashful looks the two of you finished getting ready in each other's company. You sat next to Rhea slipping into your shoes while she tied off her converse, took a handful of polaroid pictures together, then eventually snuck out Rhea’s window to begin your hike to the school.

══════⋆☆⋆══════

“Ouu! Ripley’s got a date!” Was whistled out by a classmate as you and Rhea made your way down the congested hallway, making Rhes roll her eyes.

“Shut up dickhead! We’re here as a joke.” Rhea rebutted, flipping the guy off as she carried on down the hall. 

Here as a joke but her flushed cheeks and sweaty hand gripping yours told a slightly different story.

“Dickheads always running their mo-” Rhea muttered, stepping into the crowded gymnasium.

“Shh. It’s fine, you shouldn’t worry about them.” You cut off Rhea, giving her hand a squeeze as you examined the starry night themed room. The area was dimly lit by blue leds and strings of fairy lights. Blue curtains decorated with paper stars draped over the majority of the walls while an array of tables adorned with bottles of fairy lights surrounded a dance floor full of teenagers.

You both seated yourselves near the stage where a live band was playing. Your legs pressed against one another as you fell into an array of conversations. Thirty minutes had managed to sneak by before your meaningless conversation was cut short by your biology teacher.

“You girls gonna sit here and chat all night? Go dance!” 

“But dancing is lame, Mr. Brown.” Rhea groaned while you both turned to face the man.

“I promise you that in ten years you’ll regret not doing anything at your senior prom. Seriously, go dance!” Your teacher stood behind you giving his words of advice. Rhea peeked over to you looking for your opinion. You gave her a ‘why not’ shrug before rising from your seat.

“But I don't even know how to slow dance.” Rhea whined to herself under her breath as she stood up. “If we have to dance, we’re dancing in the corner cause I’m gonna look stupid.” She stipulated.

You guided Rhea over to a secluded section of the dance floor near a wall, reassuring her that you also had no clue on what you were doing. 

“We’ll just do what everyone else is doing, Rhe’.” 

“I think this right,” Rhea unassuredly giggled with a racing heart, taking a hold of your left hand while wrapping her free hand around your waist. You shook your hair to cover your flushing cheeks as you brought your right hand to rest on her shoulder. The pair of you began swaying to the music while trying to hold back laughter, both in slight disbelief at your current situation. Prom was the last place either of you ever expected to be attending.

You were already trailing back into the pit of those sapphire eyes, drowning out all external noise you missed Rhea humming about how beautiful you looked. You were too occupied taking in the essence of your childlike crush to take notice of the grip Rhea had on your waist tightening. You were fully prepared to stare into those eyes all night, but Rhea was eager to run a risk.

A set of warm lips fell onto you abruptly, pulling you by the waist into a desperate kiss. All five senses rushed over your body, sending a rush of adrenaline through your bloodstream, placing you in awe too shocked to move.

Rhea forced herself to pull away, letting a sigh of relief out before the panic settled in, “Shit. I, god I’m so-”

Your thoughts had just now grasped what just happened.

This was a kiss that spent years in the making…you were not just gonna let it end like that.

Your hand slipped to the back of Rhea’s head, pushing Rhea back into the kiss, forcibly putting an end to her apology. She immediately fell back into your lips, closing her dilated eyes. While her tongue slid across your bottom lip begging to deepen the kiss, her hands slid up to cup your cheeks. Time slid away as the two of you fell into each other in your isolated corner of the gymnasium.

Rhea pulled herself from your lips breathless, her parted lips forming an open smile. She wanted more. You attempted to collect your thoughts while catching your breath. Both of you were attempting to draft a response while gazing into each other, because what do you say after tasting your best friend of five years?

“Cool.” You nodded

Rhea shook her head scoffing out a laugh, still making an attempt to regulate her breath. She took grip of your hand, giving it a squeeze before beginning to pull you into the hall without speaking a word.

“Wher-”

“Just follow me!” Rhea cut you off, rushing through the halls as she dragged you behind herself, both of you trying not to stumble over your dresses. 

She halted in front of the nurses office before fiddling with the keypad on the door, “God bless modern technology,” She muttered, managing to get the door open as you watched in disbelief. “Don’t even ask.” She chuckled, scanning the hall to make sure you were in the clear before tugging you into the room.

Once Rhea’s foot forced the door shut her lips directly got to work pinning themselves to your neck, nipping at the delicate skin. 

“Shit Rhe’, there might be cameras.” You pushed through a stunned whine. 

“There's none…” Rhea couldn't even pull her lips away from your skin as she spoke, “Wouldn't stop me either way, I’ve waited too long for this.” She grunted, dragging her kisses to your collarbone. “Now please tell me I can keep going.”

“I don’t think I could ever tell you to stop.” You pulled Rhea’s face to meet your eyes, whispering your confession. There was no need for Rhea to open her mouth, the look on her face alone told you that was exactly what she needed to hear.

“You have no fucking clue how long I’ve waited for this.” Rhea growled, grasping your cheeks as she pulled you over to the nurses twin sized treatment bed. 

She brought her legs to straddle over you, lowering her chest to hover over you. Rhea was attached to you like a dog, her lips were sloppy against yours as her hands snuck to pull up the skirt of your dress. 

Rhea brought herself between your legs, in a rush to finally get a taste of your core.

“Please…I’m begging you, please don't make me wait more than I already have.” Rhea looked up at you pleading.

Your heart was in your throat as you fervently nodded. “I wanna hear your voice,” Rhea begged, whispering out your name.

“Rhea, please just do anything, I need, I need you.”

With that said she hurriedly slid your panties down your legs, tossing them to the foot of the bed. Rhea was making it clear that tonight was her time to shine.

“Fuck, you’re perfect…” Rhea murmured, awed at the sight of your soaked cunt. Her arms tangled themselves around your legs. After years her tongue finally made contact with your delicacy, she preached a string of curses, finally getting what she was after. You propped yourself on your elbows to catch the sight of Rhea exploring your brand new world. You could feel a smirk between your legs as her eyes met yours, thirstily watching you watch.

“Tastes so good.” Rhea praised, sweeping her tongue through your folds before bringing herself to round your clit. You chewed on your cheeks to hush the moans escaping your throat as Rhea wrapped her lips around your sensitivity, allowing her to lightly suck at your skin. Your legs made an unsuccessful attempt at wrapping around Rhea’s head only to be overtaken by her hands, prying them open, giving her full access to devour your aching heat. 

The stealthy addition of two fingers into your emptiness was only amplifying the wobbly knees her mouth alone had created. Her fingers began steadily massaging into you, causing an arch to form over your back. The mixture of Rhea’s roaming tongue and grinding digits already had a knot forming in your stomach.

“Fucking Christ Rhe’, where the fuck did you learn all this.” You struggled out through moans. Rhea let out a soft chuckle as she continued to take your clit into her mouth, rolling her tongue piercing over your sensitivity.

Rhea gave your cunt one last kiss before she brought herself to face you. Now that Rhea had finally gotten a taste of your mouth she couldn't get enough, she had to return for more. Your lips once again blended together, your moans now slipping into Rhea’s mouth as her fingers curled inside your core. 

“God, you sound so beautiful.” Rhea admired, pressing her warmed forehead against yours while her digits continued toying with your clenching walls. Her thumb was soon added to the mixture of pleasure as it rubbed rhythmic circles over your bud. 

“Rhe’, I want to feel you against me,” You opened your eyes, pulling from her kiss while your hips rolled against her working digits. “Please.”

Rhea nodded, her eyes full of adoration, she’d do whatever it took to please you no matter if it took minutes or hours. She let her fingers come to a declined pace before withdrawing from your warmth. She stood up, licking her fingers clean before riding her dress up her legs and dropping her panties. She rushed to return to the bed pulling your leg into the air before propping a leg of hers next to your hip.

Rhea settled her heat against yours, letting out a heavy breath. She gradually started rocking her hips against you, mixing your slick together. You watched as the new sensation of pleasure washed over her, causing her jaw to drop open and her eyes to roll to the back of her head. 

“Just…just like that.” You whimpered as you began to grind your hips at a matching pace, chasing towards your climax. Rhea’s arm clung to your leg that was situated in the air for support as the sound of quiet moans and the rustling of dress fabric bounced around the room. 

“Feels so good, fuck.” Rhea quickened her motions, moaning out the nickname she created for you through heavy breaths.Rhea pushed herself further against you chasing her own high as you squirmed beneath her grinds. 

“Rhe’, I’m gonna cum.” You whined out, reaching for a hand to cling to. Her hand met you halfway, instantly taking you into her grip she pulled you up to meet her face. She was back to those oh-so passionate kisses she could now never get enough of. “Please, Rhe’!” You cried against her, her movements bucking against your cunt.

Rhea nodded into your kiss signaling for your release, her own climax just seconds away. Your series of moans brushed against Rhea’s lips as your orgasm washed over you, hers quickly following. Muffled whines echoed around the room as Rhea’s thrusts against you faltered.

After riding out your highs together, Rhea squeezed herself next to you on the tiny bed and rested her hand on your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze. “I swear to god if you say cool.” Rhea looked over at you giggling. 

“Unfair!” You joked, resting your head against Rhea’s chest. You both fell into silence simply taking in the moment, reflecting on everything that had just happened. Rhea peppered small kisses to the top of your head as you toyed with the fabric of her dress.

“We should probably get outta here before somebody finds us.” Rhea suggested, breaking the silence.

“Wanna go dance again?” You teased as you turned to face her.

Rhea quickly shook her head, “I’m never gonna dance again. I was so bad.” She laughed, “How about we go find a parking lot and makeout under the stars, hm?”

“I seriously would have never expected you to be all smoochy, Rhe’.”

“Look, I have like five years of kisses to make up for!”

[puddingforg]

I drew one of @entomolog-t g/t ideas!!

I rlly liked the idea they had and HAD to draw it, if you wanna go read the original post I’ll paste it at the bottom of this post ( you should def go read it for context btw ), also in the og post the monster was a werewolf but istg i couldn’t draw one so I made de monster some kind of imp, but yk what he came out looking real good so idc

Anyways the drawing in question

Btw I RLLY liked this characters and their dynamic so I would love to post more abt them, would you guys be more interested in seeing more of them?? Also, here are the designs for the characters, I rlly liked them and feel like the exaggerated expressions don’t bring justice to them so

OG STORY:

[an-established-butt-dent]

'Dreamers' A quiet evening

Solas x Lavellan, available as print here.

Mixed media on paper

[saetoshi]

corazón de melón.

tldr; the one time you have a proper conversation with itoshi sae ends up unleashing a series of events you never imagined could’ve happened.

wc. 10.2k

¿?: roommates to lovers, college!au, idiots in love, this is pure domesticity tbh, fluff, lowk word vomit, ooc-ish sae (he’s a silly lil guy sometimes this is the hill i’ll die on), slow burn ig ??, swearing, someone’s mean to you (not sae), not proofread (no surprise)

a/n: i have so many emotions in my heart for sae, SOMEONE SEDATE ME PLEASE FREE ME FROM HIM I CANT LIVE NORMALLY ANYMORE, turned rue into a sae liker for this so real of me, @rintosei, enjoy ur meal my children this is probably the longest thing i’ll write in a hot minute

when others think of itoshi sae, many words come to mind: genius, talented, jerk, asshole, rude, mean, scary, lashes, pretty—the list goes on. 

you have no particular thoughts about sae. all he is to you is your roommate. you’d like to have an opinion of him, but that seems impossible with the way you can count the number of times you’ve spoken to him with one hand.

though, if you had to be honest, the only common thread in the few interactions you’ve had is that he very clearly does not care for your company—or anyone’s company, for that matter. 

not that you blame him. if you had to deal with having to go to practice after a day of classes, you wouldn’t want to interact with anyone else, either. (you’d also not have the energy to do anything.)

it’s why you’re used to hearing him get back to the apartment while you’re eating dinner; why you started leaving some leftovers for him to eat whenever he wants to.

it’s also why you’re surprised when he comes back from practice earlier than usual. you jump when you hear the front door open, placing your hand over your heart.

your turn to the door, eyes widening slightly when you see sae walk in. you don’t greet him—you never do—you don’t think he’d appreciate it. (he never greets you either, so you assumed it was fine.)

so, you turn your attention back to the tv, reaching out to grab the broom. you quickly start sweeping, humming a tune while the noise of whatever drama is playing in the background fills the apartment. 

you barely register that sae’s door doesn’t open, but the thought quickly leaves your mind when something dramatic happens to one of the leads. 

you take a step back, an unceremonious yelp leaving your lips when your back bumps into something. a second passes by before you slowly tilt your head back.  

your eyes are met with a pair of teal ones. a sheepish smile tugs at your lips, “hi?” 

he raises a brow, “what are you doing?”

“cleaning.” you move the broom from side to side in hopes to draw his attention to it. (he barely glances at it before his eyes snap back to yours.)

you take a step forward, moving to face him. he just stares at you. an awkward silence settles between the two of you.

“you’re back early.” you hope he didn’t hear your voice crack.

he blinks, clearly uninterested. “practice ended early.” 

you hum, nervously bouncing on the balls of your feet. you huff, tapping your fingers against the broom. “i see.”

it’s clear both of you feel uncomfortable. still, neither of you makes a move to leave. you’re more surprised sae’s still standing in front of you. (sae’s mildly intrigued you’re attempting to talk to him.)

you open your mouth to speak, but promptly shut it close. you repeat the action two more times before sae interrupts you, “what?”

your eyes drift away from his. you gnaw on your bottom lip. “it’s nothing.”

he glares at you. “just spit it out.”

your eyes widen, snapping back to look at him as you dismissively wave your hand. “it’s really nothing, you can just leave!”

“you clearly have something you want to say to me,” he deadpans, “so i suggest you get it over with so we can put an end to this lukewarm conversation.”

you take a deep breath, wiping one hand against your shirt, gently swaying the broom with the other. “i was just wondering, y’know since you’re back early–”

“hurry up.”

“do you wanna eat together?” you look at the ground, feet shuffling uncomfortably. the silence feels unbearable. 

“that’s it?” the confusion in his voice confuses you. you lift your eyes to stare at him, confusion etched in your face.

your head tilts to the side in confusion, “what do you mean ‘that’s it’?” 

“you wanna eat with me?” he points at himself. his brows knit when you nod. sae owlishly blinks, 

“okay.”

his eyes widen in confusion when he sees an elated smile bloom on your lips. 

“i won’t start cooking yet, since i at least have to finish sweeping,” you hum, “but if you’re hungry you could get started on something and i’ll join you when i’m done.”

“i can’t cook.” sae awkwardly coughs. he shoves his hands into his pockets, looking away from you, a soft flush spreading through his cheeks.

“oh,” you blink, smiling at him. “that’s fine! i can cook something while you clean instead.”

the blush on his cheeks deepens as his brows furrow.  “i don’t know how to clean.”

your smile tightens, eyes squinting as you inch closer to him.

there’s a beat of silence. “what can you do then?”

“play football.” you wait a few seconds for him to say something else. 

“that’s it?”

“yeah.” he says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. (as if it was the only thing that mattered.)

you rub your forehead, a dry laugh escaping your lips. 

if you were to tell others of this discovery you’re sure they wouldn’t believe you. you’re not even sure you believe him, yourself.

at least you didn’t, until he took the broom from your grasp. you have to bite back your laughter when he can’t even hold it properly. you wonder how he’d manage to survive alone.

itoshi sae is basically useless outside of football, you conclude. (and you’re not sure if this is the opinion you want to have about your roommate.)

it’s been a week since you learned about sae’s lack of ability to do seemingly anything other than kick a ball around.

it’s also been a week since he started coming back from practice earlier. you have mixed feelings about it. on one hand, you find it strangely comforting knowing you’re not alone in the apartment. on the other, sae just stares at you while you clean.

you’re sick of feeling his eyes follow you around. it feels like a predator watching its prey. having his eyes trail you makes you feel judged, and you’ve had enough.

so, you tighten your grip around the mop in your hands, turning around to look at sae. you take a deep breath, “why are you staring at me?”

he blinks, propping an arm on a couch cushion and leaning his head into his palm. “i’m trying to learn.”

confusion paints itself all over your face, “learn what?” 

“learn to clean.” you hate when he says things like they’re the most obvious thing ever. it makes you feel as if he expects you to know what goes on in his head.

“by staring at me?” you raise a brow. 

he simply shrugs, “i’m a visual learner.”

you don’t know if you believe him. 

so, you place one of your hands on your hips, tilting the mop back and forth with the other one. “in that case, you should try cleaning today.”

his eyes widen, mouth curling into a fine line. “i don’t think i’m ready for that.”

you take a step closer to him, holding the mop out to him. “well, i think that after a week of watching me you should start practicing what you’ve learned.”

“don’t ever think again.” he frowns.

“oh, please,” you roll your eyes, “don’t tell me the itoshi sae is afraid of a little mopping.”

that makes him get up. you bite back the satisfied smile threatening to creep up your face when he snatches the mop from your hands.

“i’m just supposed to move this side to side, right?” he stiffly holds the mop, looking at you with a raised brow.

“‘m not gonna help you out,” you make your way to the couch, mimicking his earlier position. “if you’ve been learning from staring at me for a week then you should know what to do.”

“i know what to do.” he rolls his eyes, “i just don’t know how to do it.”

“figure it out, then.” you lean forward against the palm of your hand, trying to hide your smile behind your fingers.

he glares at you and scoffs, redirecting his attention to the object in his hands. you fail to stifle your laughter when he moves the mop in a sweeping motion.

“don’t laugh!” his grip tightens around the mop, heat rushing to his ears. 

you bite your tongue, the ghost of a smile still lingering on your lips, “i’m not.”

he tsks, slightly pouting. he walks towards you, dragging the mop behind him. you look up at him, you eyes flutter closed when he flicks your forehead. 

“teach me.” your eyes snap open, flickering to meet his. a confused noise leaves your lips as your brows furrow. 

“teach you what?” your eyes flutter when he flicks your forehead again.

sae’s eye twitches in annoyance, “are you stupid or something?”

you glare at him, “not everyone thinks the same things you do!”

he clicks his tongue, rolling his eyes. he points at the mop and then at himself. “teach me to clean.”

“i thought you said you were a visual learner.” you deadpan. 

“consider this your punishment for laughing at me.” he huffs, a condescending smile blooming on his lips when he sees your pained expression.

his face leans closer to yours, “i look forward to learning from you, teach.”

you dumbly stare at him as he places the mop in your hands. he flashes you a shit-eating grin before retreating to his room. you blink twice before coming to your senses, punching the couch cushions in anger. 

you wish you hadn’t found out itoshi sae was a little shit. you much preferred when you only thought of him as your useless roommate. 

itoshi sae is the most infuriating student you’ve ever met. 

you thought someone described as a genius would be a much better student than he actually is. he doesn’t pay attention to anything you say at all. you wonder if his teachers just let him pass the class because they don’t want him around anymore. 

you have a newfound respect for his actual teachers. you don’t know how they manage to stand him for a whole semester when you don’t think you can even last two weeks. (it’s still longer than you expected.)

“sae,” you loudly sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, “you’re doing it wrong. again.” 

his grip around the broom tightens, his knuckles turning white, “i’m doing what you told me to do!”

“you’re not!” you groan, running a hand down your face, “gosh, how do you manage to do everything i tell you the wrong way?”

“what, so i’m the problem?” his eyes narrow, he takes a step closer to you, “have you ever thought that maybe you’re a bad teacher?”

an angry gasp leaves your lips, “excuse me?!”

“you heard me.” he grits his teeth, “you’re clearly the most lukewarm teacher ever. how do you expect me to learn when you don’t care about teaching me properly?”

“have you ever considered that maybe i don’t want to teach you because you forced me to?” you rub your temples in a poor attempt to prevent the coming headache.

he scoffs, brows knitting in annoyance, “you could at least put more effort into making sure i’m learning.”

“you think i’m not?” you point him square in the chest, glaring at him. “i’m doing my best here, okay? it’s not my fault you’re a shit student.”

“you–”

“you listen while your teacher is speaking.” you seethe, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, “i’m trying to do the best i can. i’m not qualified to teach you anything, especially not with how you don’t even pay attention to what i say!”

he frowns, “well, i–”

you shake him as hard as you can, angry tears pooling in your eyes, “you’re the most ungrateful, useless piece of fucking shit i’ve ever met in my life!”

sae grabs your wrists, letting the broom fall with a clang to the floor. he stares at you with wide eyes. you blink, heat creeping up your face in embarrassment.

there’s a beat of silence. sae’s eyes scan your face. “you good?” 

he lets out a soft sigh of relief when you nod. “are you going to punch me if i let go?”

he relaxes a little when you shake your head. he looks at you as he slowly lets go of your hands. you stare at him, wide eyed as he gently walks you over to the couch and sits you down.

sae plops down on the other end of the couch, glancing at you. he opens his mouth to speak, but promptly closes it. you stop yourself from laughing at his awkwardness. (it reminds you of how you must’ve acted when you talked to him a couple of weeks ago.)

you twist the hem of your shirt in your hands, looking away from sae, gnawing on your bottom lip. “’m sorry about that.”

“don’t apologize.” he coughs awkwardly, crossing his arms, “i probably stressed you out too much.”

“yeah, but, still,” you turn to face him, “i shouldn’t have said something so rude.”

“it’s fine. i really did deserve that, after all.” an amused laugh escapes his lips, “i’ve never heard you so mad before, though.”

you tilt your head to the side, “what do you mean?” 

“i mean,” a hint of amused smile tugs at the corners of his lips, “you tend to get really loud when you complain about your classes. i can hear you all the way to my room.”

your face heats up in embarrassment. you slump against the couch, hiding your face behind your hands. “sorry.”

“stop apologizing,” you slightly relax when you hear a sliver of empathy in his voice. “it’s better to let your emotions out instead of holding them in.”

you lower your hands from your face, staring at him. “do you do that?”

“it depends,” he hums, “feelings are lukewarm most of the time, so when i get angry or whatever i’ll let it out so i can get it over with.”

you narrow your eyes at him, scanning his face. “how does that even work?”

he shrugs nonchalantly, “if i get mad at someone i’ll say it to their face while i’m still mad so i can stop being angry.”

you mull over his words, “so instead of having pent up feelings and reaching your limit, you just act on your emotions as soon as possible so you go back to feeling nothing?”

“pretty much.”

a small hum leaves your lips. silence settles between the two of you before a loud growl echoes through the apartment. laughter bubbles in your chest, spilling out of your mouth when sae’s face flushes.

“shut up!” he hides behind his hands, “i haven’t eaten all day!”

you stand up, walking over and extending a hand out to sae, “wanna help out with dinner?”

he lowers his hands from his face, glancing between your eyes and your hand. he blinks, “i can’t cook.”

“i know,” a smile blooms on your lips, “you can consider it your first lesson.”

sae’s eyes light up, the corners of his lips tilting up ever so slightly. “you’re still gonna teach me?”

“i can’t let you stay useless forever.” you stick your tongue out at him, smiling when he grabs your hand.

a huff of laughter escapes his lips when you fail to tug him up. you flip him off before leaving him behind on the couch. a smile lingers on his face when he follows you to the kitchen. 

he’s not a good assistant. (and he’s an even worse cook). in fact, if you’d known that letting him into the kitchen would’ve resulted in having to evacuate the building due to the fire alarm, you wouldn’t have asked for his help at all.

however, you do appreciate that he invited you out for dinner later as an apology for stressing you out. 

(it makes you think he’s more considerate than he pretends to be.)

you’ve lost track of the times you’ve had to apologize to your neighbors over sae activating the fire alarm. 

it’s embarrassing enough that seemingly everyone in the complex goes to your college, but sae seems to make it worse by glaring at anyone who so much as looks in your direction with a judgemental stare.

“i can’t keep going on like this,” you cover your face with your hands. you shrink into yourself when you feel multiple eyes staring at the back of your head.

“stop overreacting.” sae clicks his tongue. still, he discreetly grabs the hem of your shirt and gently pulls you closer to his side. 

you lower your hands from your face, frowning at him as tears of shame pool in your eyes. “everyone’s judging us!”

“just ignore them.” he awkwardly pats your head, “they’ll forget about it soon enough.”

“sae, this happens almost every week!” you cry, gnawing your lower lip, “some guy yelled at me last time because we interrupted his studying! do you have any idea how long i had to apologize for?”

his jaw clenches as anger flashes through his face for a split second before his uninterested expression returns. “what’d he look like?”

“i don’t know,” you blink, “he was tall. he also had brown-ish hair, i think?”

he shoves his hands in his pockets, tilting his head in the direction of the building, “do you know his apartment number?” 

“no,” you sigh. “why?”

the corners of his lips quirk up into a mischievous smile. “i was thinking of baking him some apology cookies.”

you cover your mouth in a feeble attempt to stifle your laughter. (if everyone was staring at you in judgment for triggering the fire alarm, now they’re judging you for laughing in this situation.)

sae tugs you into the building when you’re all cleared to enter, glaring at a few neighbors who shoot dirty looks at both of you.

you smack his arm, “stop doing that, you’re embarrassing us!”

he scoffs, flipping off anyone who’s still staring, “does it look like i care? they’re all too scared to say anything to my face, anyway.”

“yeah, but they always say shit to me when you’re gone,” you click your tongue, frowning. sae drags you up the stairs to your apartment.

both of you stand in front of your door when sae puts his hands on your shoulders, staring at you in the eyes. his eyes are a pretty shade of teal, you note.

“if anyone gives you shit when you’re alone, just remember what they look like, ‘kay?” he flicks your forehead, a malicious gleam in his eyes, “i’ll make sure to personally apologize for the trouble.”

a smile blooms on your lips, “you’re so mean.”

“shut up,” he rolls his eyes, pinching your cheek, “as your roommate, i’m the only one allowed to give you a hard time.”

“whatever you say, freak,” you rub your cheek, smile widening, swatting his hand away when he reaches out to pinch your other cheek. 

sae bites back a smile as he nods his head toward the door. “did you bring your key?”

you reach into your pockets, feeling around for the key. your head tilts down, eyes widening in panic when you don’t find anything. 

an embarrassed chuckle slips past your lips when you lift your head back up to look at sae. he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“gosh, you’re so useless.” 

you kick his shin, sticking your tongue out at him, “you don’t get to say that to me.”

he sticks his tongue out at you in return, crossing his arms. “whatever. just go and ask the landlord for a key.”

“me?” you raise your brows at him, haughtily tilting your head to the side, “you’re the reason we had to evacuate the building in the first place! i think it’s only fair that you get the key.”

sae opens his mouth to tell you off, but seemingly decides to sigh loudly in annoyed defeat instead, “fine.”

you smile triumphantly, turning to face him, your eyes closing as your chest puffs out in pride. sae rests his index finger on your forehead. your eyes flutter open in confusion at the contact, smile dropping into a curious pout. 

“tell me if anyone bothers you while i’m gone.” he flicks your forehead one last time before turning around and walking away. a content smile blooms on your lips as you stare at his back, sliding down to sit next to the door.

you don’t tell him the tall guy from last time dropped by to yell at you again. sae didn’t even have to ask to tell something was wrong with the way your smile seemed dimmer when you told him you’d take over making lunch.

he doesn’t tell you he’s going to give that asshole the ‘apology’ cookies he’d mentioned before. (and he definitely doesn’t mention that he got his apartment number from the landlord when he got the key to your apartment.) but you had an inkling of what he was going to do when you saw him take out some bowls and a whisk from the cabinets. (you didn’t stop him.)

you bake him some actual ‘thank you’ cookies and place them by his door before heading to your room for the night. the next morning you find a post-it with an ‘anytime’ messily scribbled on it and a ‘thanks for the cookies :)’ on the other side.

you smile fondly at the teal-colored square. you think it resembles the color of his eyes. (it makes you feel warm and fuzzy.)

sae’s gotten slightly better at cooking. he’s able to make at least one meal without triggering the fire alarms.

you feel proud. you suppose that’s what teachers feel when their most lazy, unmotivated student finally manages to put effort into something. 

it makes you feel proud enough that you take a detour to the convenience store on your way home. a fond smile lights up your face when you walk out of the store, plastic bag in hand with a chocolate bar and a pack of star stickers.

there’s a skip to your step as you head home, swinging the bag back and forth. 

you’ve barely even opened the door to your apartment when it swings open. your eyes widen in surprise when they meet sae’s. 

his eyes narrow, “what took you so long?”

a slightly burnt scent wafts the apartment. your nose scrunches, “is something burning?”

“answer my question first,” he points the spatula in his hand at you. 

“i got you a reward,” you smile, lifting the bag in your hands. 

his eyes light up, “what’d you get me?”

you quickly hide the bag behind your back when he reaches out for it. “answer my question first.”

a small smile tugs at his lips. he rolls his eyes, “nothing is burning. i turned off the stove before opening the door just to be sure.”

you reach out to pat his head, a teasing smile on your lips, “good job, sae!”

he scoffs, a soft blush dusts his ears. “you make it sound like you’re praising a dog.”

you huff, “stop complaining when you’re getting praised.”

“whatever.” sae pouts, brows knitting, “when are you giving me my gift?”

“so impatient ,” you tsk, shaking your head, “let me in first, i don’t wanna stand in the hallway any longer.”

he grabs your arm and pulls you close to him, kicking the door closed. you bump into his chest, eyes widening as heat rushes to your ears.

the first thing that pops into your mind is that he smells nice. there’s a hint of a burnt scent that clings to him, but he still smells nice. (you note that he feels warm too. it makes you feel warm.)

you feel a slight pressure against your brows. it makes you blink as you slowly snap out of your stupor. 

“you good?” your eyes meet sae’s worried ones. he leans in closer to you, scanning your face. you awkwardly nod. 

his brows furrow. “are you sure? you zoned out for a bit. are your classes stressing you out too much?”

you shake your head, slightly leaning away from him. your lips press into a fine line. sae’s eyes narrow as he scans your face. he steps back, his hands resting on your shoulders. the spatula lightly digs into your skin.

“is it that guy again?” he tightens his grip, making you wince when the spatula presses harder against your skin, “is he still bothering you?”

“i think you scared him away,” you quickly swat his arms away. “i’m fine, though.”

“are you sure?” he sighs when you nod, “why’d you zone out then?”

“i got distracted,” you gnaw on your bottom lip. 

his expression morphs to confusion, “with what?”

your eyes widen slightly. you don’t want to tell him he’s the reason you zoned out. so, you settle for the only thing that comes to mind, “the smell of something burning. are you sure you turned off the stove?”

“yes.” he groans in annoyance. there’s a small pause. sae turns around, tugging you into the kitchen with him. 

“look!” he points at the stove, “it’s off. stop making me second-guess myself.”

an amused smile blooms on your face, “i can’t believe you had to come check if you actually turned it off.”

“i can’t believe you actually haven’t given me my gift yet,” he scoffs, pouting. 

you laugh, reaching out to flick his forehead. “patience is a virtue, sae. it’d do you well to have it.”

“whatever.” he tries to grab the bag from your hands. “just give it to me already.”

you smile, pulling out the chocolate bar from the bag. laughter bubbles in your chest when you see his stunned expression.

“chocolate?” he glares at the bar in your hand, “do you know how unhealthy that is for me?”

“if you don’t want it i’ll just keep it, then.” you nonchalantly shrug.

he snatches it out of your grasp. “i never said i didn’t want it.”

his eyes twinkle when he unwraps it. he glances up at you, “do you want a bite?”

“just a small one,” you reach out to grab the bar. 

sae moves the chocolate out of your reach, “open your mouth.”

you blink, tilting your head in confusion. he sighs, “i’ll feed it to you. i need to make sure you don’t bite off half of the bar.”

“do you trust me so little?” you scoff, crossing your arms. still, you open your mouth, heat rushing to your ears when sae tells you to take a bite. 

“is it good?” he stares at you, taking a bite of the chocolate when you nod. 

you both swallow at the same time, a smile lighting up your face. “i think you deserve another reward for sharing.”

his brows raise in intrigue, “another? gosh, you’re really spoiling me today, aren’t you?”

you take the pack of stickers out of the back, waving it in front of him. he gives you an unamused look. 

“i bought these for whenever you do something nice,” you place a sticker on his cheek.

“that’s stupid,” he frowns. 

“shut up, you look cute.” you pinch his other cheek.

he clicks his tongue, “whatever. now get out of my kitchen i need to continue making dinner.”

laughter spills out of your mouth when he pushes you into the living room. “do you want me to help?”

“no.” he huffs, “i can do it myself. now go relax or something, i’ll come get you when dinner’s ready.”

“are you sure you’ll be fine on your own?” you snicker, “i’d hate to have to evacuate the building.”

he lightly smacks your shoulder, “i can cook by myself!”

“sae–”

“just let me cook something for you this once,” he mutters. 

a soft, defeated sigh leaves your lips, “okay.”

“i’ll let you cook alone,” you smile, “just this once, though. i can’t leave you unsupervised for too long.”

he hums, patting your head before heading back to the kitchen. a small smile lingers on your lips as you make your way to the couch, turning on the tv.

it doesn’t take long for sae to walk over, two plates in his hands, and a self-satisfied smile on his lips.

you’d be lying if you said the meal was good. it was slightly charred, and a little too salty. you’re sure you would’ve managed to turn it into something decent if he’d let you help. 

still, as bad as the food was, you can’t help but eat it with a smile on your face, a warm, fuzzy feeling tugging at your heart. 

sae groans in annoyance when you place another sticker on his forehead. (your heart leaps when you notice the soft flush to his cheeks.)

he lets you help him wash the dishes, complaining when you flick soapy water in his direction. laughter fills the apartment when he flicks water back at you. time seemingly slowing down to let you savor the moment just a little longer before you head back to your room.

you drift off to sleep with a smile on your face. your heart drums against your chest when you recall the smile on sae’s face. 

(you wish he’d smile at you more often.)

you’ve discovered sae is much better at cleaning than he is at cooking. you’ve also discovered that he’s more thoughtful than he lets on. 

he tends to clean the apartment while you’re in class. he claims it’s because he absolutely must practice cleaning in order to get better. (you don’t believe him.) he swears he ensures the apartment’s clean by the time you get home because he can’t stand your nagging. (you still don’t believe him.)

it’s why you’ve had to go out and buy more stickers to reward him with. it’s also why you’re a little surprised to see him still mopping the apartment when you get back.

you take your shoes off, quickly putting on your slippers. “you’re still cleaning?”

“i’m almost done,” he hums, “practice ended a little later today.”

you make your way to the couch, careful not to slip on the floor, “why? is there a match soon?”

“there’s one tomorrow,” he turns to look at you, frowning when he sees you pull out a pack of stickers with a teasing smile on your face. (he still makes his way over to you when you tell him to come closer despite knowing your intention.) he watches you place the sticker on his shirt, a concentrated look in your eyes.

he sticks his tongue out at you when you look up at him with a satisfied grin. sae rests his hand on top of your head. “wanna come watch?”

you tilt your head to the side, “i’m not a big football fan.”

he playfully shakes your head, brows knitting, “have you ever even been to a football match?”

“no,” you pry his hand off your head, “but i don’t really see the point of going when i know i’ll get bored.”

he rolls his eyes, “you won’t.”

“how do you know?” you lean closer to him, raising a brow, a playful grin on your lips.

he leans closer to you, nose playfully scrunching, “because i’m going to be playing.”

your face scrunches up in mock disgust, “you’re making me not want to go even more.”

he teasingly clutches his heart in faux pain, a smile on his lips as he tries to hold back his laughter, “you’re so mean. you’re hurting me right now.”

“are you trying to make me feel bad?” you bite back a smile, fondly rolling your eyes. “because it’s totally working.”

“your sarcasm wounds me,” he frowns, shaking his head. “i can’t believe my roommate won’t support me at my match.”

you punch his arm, “keep this up and you won’t be eating any dinner.”

“fuck,” a hearty laugh escapes his lips, “when’d you get so mean?”

“i learned from the best,” you stick your tongue out at him. a soft laugh leaves your lips when sae scoffs, looking away. 

“are you really not going to go see the match?” he turns to you, pouting. you hate when he uses that little pout to guilt you. (you hate that you fall for it even more.)

you sigh, slumping against the couch, “i’ll think about it.”

“just give me an actual answer, damn.” he taps your forehead, “are you going, yes or no?”

a teasing smile creeps up your lips, “maybe.”

you laugh when he calls out your name in annoyance. he groans, glaring at you, “i hate you.”

“no you don’t,” you smile at him, “if you did you wouldn’t have asked me to go see you play tomorrow.”

his face flushes in embarrassment. “you’re not even going anyway!”

you rest your head on your hand, “i am, though.”

he stares at you, unimpressed. there’s a beat of silence before he huffs, the corners of his lips quirking up, “i really can’t stand you sometimes.”

“it’s not my fault you’re fun to tease!” you laugh. he flips you off before turning around to continue mopping. you sigh, stretching your arms up. a couple of seconds go by before you get up to make your way to the kitchen.

“where are you going?” 

“the kitchen,” you hum, turning around to look at sae. your ears burn when your eyes meet his. you wish you knew what goes on in his head when he stares at you so intensely. you wish you knew if he even knows he’s staring at you so intently. a small, awkward cough leaves your lips, “i wanted to get started on dinner.”

“you’re not even going to wait for me?” you fiddle with the hem of your shirt at his teasing tone. 

sometimes you wonder if he knows how domestic your dynamic has become. if he’s aware that people have started associating him with you, and vice versa. if he’s aware of the effect his words have on you. (you really wish you could take a peek inside his mind.)

“you’d just get in my way,” you tsk, “besides i wanna finish quickly, my head hurts a little.”

he quickly walks over to you, dragging the mop behind him, “have you taken any medicine?”

“i’m fine,” you wave off the hand he placed on your forehead, “it’s probably because i’m hungry.”

“are you sure?” your heart pounds against your chest at his concern. 

you give him a reassuring smile, “i’m sure. if it still hurts before i go to bed i’ll take some medicine.”

“fine.” he huffs, lips pursing, “but if you still feel bad tomorrow, promise you’ll let me know.”

you feel your heart squeeze. you gnaw on your bottom lip, twisting the hem of your shirt with your hands. 

“i promise.” your voice is barely above a whisper, it’s just loud enough for him to hear.

he smiles, patting your head, “don’t push yourself too hard, ok?”

sae turns around. you stare at his back, his name tumbling out of your lips before you can stop yourself. he turns around with a curious hum.

you feel like your heart rests on your throat. he patiently waits for you to continue. heat rushes to your ears and you wipe your hands against your shirt. “i also promise i’ll go see your match.”

the smile that lights up his face makes you wish it was tomorrow already. you want to go. (because you like seeing him smile.) you want to go see his match. (because it’ll make him happy.)

you want to see him do his favorite thing in the world. you want to share that happiness with him, despite not caring much for the sport. (because you think it’ll make him happy to see you there, even if he doesn’t say it. you want to be the reason he feels genuine happiness.)

you’re not there.

it’s the first thing sae notices when he looks at the stands. it’s what he keeps noticing whenever he turns to look at the stands throughout the match. when they reach halftime and you’re still not there, so he texts you. the second half starts and you’re still not there. 

the game ends and you never showed up. his brows knit when he checks his phone only to find out you never even read his messages. concern carves itself into him. 

he makes his way back to the apartment as quickly as he can, secretly hoping that nothing bad happened to you.

his heart beats faster, anxiety seeping into him when he opens the door and he doesn’t see your figure on the couch. 

sae hastily kicks his shoes off, dropping his duffel bag somewhere on the floor. he lets out a deep breath when he stands in front of your door, quickly knocking.

a couple of seconds go by before he knocks again, frowning when there’s no reply. he quietly opens the door, mentally apologizing. his eyes quickly scan the room for you. there’s a lump in his throat when he sees something stir under your bed sheets. 

he quietly walks over to your bed, slowly lowering your comforter. his chest tightens, brows knitting with worry when he sees your face twisted in pain, a slight sheen of sweat on your forehead. he grabs a tissue from your nightstand, gingerly wiping the sweat away. 

he sharply inhales when you stir under his touch. sae stares at you as you slowly open your eyes. his eyes fill with concern when he notices how heavy, and unfocused yours look.

he presses the back of his hand against your forehead, brows furrowing even more, “gosh, you’re burning up.”

“sae?” he can barely hear your voice. “why’re you here?” 

he clicks his tongue, wiping more sweat off your forehead.

“what about the match?” you blearily look at him, voice laced with soft concern. you try to keep your eyes open when he heads out, grogginess catching up to you when he returns with a bowl in his hands, a hand towel over his shoulder. 

he dampens the towel, wringing out the excess onto the bowl. sae gently presses it against your forehead, “have you had a fever all day long?”

“did i miss it?” his heart aches at how choked up your voice sounds. 

“i thought i told you to tell me if you weren’t feeling alright, dumbass,” he nags, carefully lifting your head up to prop another pillow under it. 

“‘m sorry.” your eyes fill with tears, a pout tugging at your lips. he gently adjusts the towel against your skin. 

“don’t apologize,” he softly tsks, “worry about getting better, not about missing the game, idiot.”

he panics when a tear rolls down your cheek, hastily brushing it away. his heart squeezes in pain when more tears freely roll down your cheeks. 

“i didn’t,” you sniffle, “didn’t wanna miss the game.”

he shushes you, grabbing another tissue to wipe your tears away. “it’s fine.”

“‘s not,” your breath quickens, brows knitting in sadness, “i promised.”

he firmly calls out your name, “it’s not your fault.”

“i promised,” you hiccup. sae frowns, reaching out to remove the towel from your forehead, pouting when he notices you’re still burning up. he quickly dampens it again before resting it against your skin once more.

“i’ll go get you some medicine,” he whispers, turning around to exit your room.

sae stops in his tracks when he feels something weakly tug at his fingers. he turns to look at you, sucking in a shaky breath when he sees you holding on to him.

“don’t leave.” you weakly try to pull him closer. 

there’s a slight flicker of hope in him that tells him you’re aware of what you’re doing despite your raging fever. but he quickly extinguishes it by reminding himself that you probably think you’re dreaming. (because there’s no way you’d tell him to stay with you otherwise, he’s sure of it.)

“i have to get you some medicine,” he mutters. still, he makes no attempt to free his hand from yours.

“stay.” he wants to. he wants to stay with you more than anything. but he needs to get you something to relieve your fever.

he sits on your bed, readjusting your grip on his hand, “i need to go get your medicine.” 

he gingerly readjusts the towel on your forehead, slightly smiling at you. his heart pangs with worry when he notices how clammy your hands are. 

sae’s eyes widen when you lift yourself up, wrapping your arms around his neck. the towel on your forehead drops into his lap. he feels you rest your head on his shoulders, frowning at the heat emanating from you. (still, he wraps his arms around you so you don’t fall.)

his worried eyes meet your hazy ones when you slowly lift your head to look at him, a sleepy smile on your lips. 

“so stubborn,” your hands cup his cheeks. 

sae freezes when he feels your lips press against his. his heart beats faster, blush spreading through his face like wildfire. 

a sharp inhale leaves his lips when he feels your hands drop from his cheeks, your body tilting back. he cups the back of your head before it hits the pillow.

his eyes scan your face. he lowers his head when he feels your feeble grip on his jacket. his eyes flicker to yours when you weakly tug him closer in an attempt to press his lips against yours again. 

he slowly lifts your head up, a soft huff of laughter slipping past his lips when a glimmer of anticipation flashes through your eyes. he presses his lips against yours in a short peck, a startled noise leaving his mouth when you pull him back in. 

his face heats up more and more every time you chase after his lips when he pulls away for air. he pants when you pull away, trying to catch your breath. he rests his forehead against yours, his breath fanning against your lips. 

you softly call out his name. butterflies erupt in his stomach. he really hopes you know you’re not dreaming. 

his arm tightens against you, the hand resting on the back of your head gently tilting it to the side. he doesn’t think twice before pressing his lips against yours again, a content sigh escaping him when you melt under his touch. 

he presses his lips against yours over and over again, gently lowering you back onto the bed. your kisses feel like they’re the very air he breathes. like he’ll suffocate if he’s apart from you for more than a second.

sae kisses you silly until he feels your grip against his jacket soften. he pulls away, panting, face ablaze, eyes looking at your sleeping face with a softness that is so unlike him.

he carefully removes your hands from him, lifting your comforter to tuck you into bed. a smile lingers on his lips as he places the towel on your forehead again. 

he quietly makes his way out of your room, pressing the pads of his fingers against his lips. his heart feels like it wants to jump out of his chest. a deep sigh leaves his lips. he makes his way to the front door, quickly putting on his shoes to go buy your medicine.

sae really hopes you get better soon. (he wants to kiss you again, and he wants to be sure you’ll remember it properly.)

if you thought sae was a bad student, he’s an even worse patient. he is the most uncooperative sick person you’ve ever met in your life. 

you suppose it’s only fair to put up with him since he took care of you while you were sick. (even if it makes you want to knock him unconscious.)

still, it never fails to make your blood boil when you find him wobbling around the living room with a broom in his hands.

“would it kill you to stay in bed?” you stomp over to him, prying the broom off his hands before propping it against the wall.

he blearily looks at you, pouting. he sniffles, “yes.”

you frown, grabbing his hand and dragging him to his room. he glares at you when you force him to lay down on his bed. 

“stay here while i get your medicine,” you point at him, glaring back. “or i’ll suffocate you with a pillow until you fall asleep.”

“you can’t be rude to me while i’m sick!” he angrily crosses his arms, scoffing.

it’s still surprising that he’s still in bed when you get back. it’s even more surprising that he’s staring at the door, his face lighting up when you enter. 

his nose scrunches up in disgust when he sees the cough syrup in your hands. he burrows himself in his comforter, turning his head away from you. 

“sae.” you gently call out, sitting next to him. a small smile blooms on your lips when he slowly turns to look at you. “you know you have to take your medicine to get better, right?”

“if i take my medicine,” he sneezes, “will you give me a reward?”

“yeah, sure, i’ll give you a sticker.” you absentmindedly hum, uncapping the syrup. 

“no,” he shakes his head,  “i want another reward.” 

your brows raise in confusion, your turn your attention to him. “what kind of reward?”

he smiles, lifting a hand to tap his lips and then tapping yours. your face heats up, jaw dropping. you gently swat his hand away, pouting. “you shouldn’t tease like that.”

“‘m not,” he sticks his tongue out at you, “i want another kiss.”

“another?” you blink in surprise. your eyes widen slightly when a cheeky smile creeps up his lips. 

“you kissed me when you were sick,” he snickers, nose scrunching up when you force the syrup into his mouth. 

“no i didn’t,” you frown. he forces himself to swallow the cough syrup, a choked gasp leaving his lips.

“you don’t remember?” he whines, sniffling when you shake your head. 

you feel a pang in your heart when sae looks at you, eyes swimming with sadness. “‘m sorry, sae.”

“‘s fine,” he playfully smiles, “i’ll just have to make up for it later.”

heat spreads through your face. a pout tugs at your lips, “don’t say stuff like that. i might take you seriously.”

“i’m being serious,” he sniffles, “wanna kiss you again.”

you shyly stare at him, shrinking into yourself. you suppose being sick must’ve made him bolder. or maybe he just wants to get back at you. but you have to admit it gives you the perfect excuse to make him stop being so difficult.

“i’ll kiss you if you stop complaining about taking your medicine,” you quietly huff, fingers playing with your shirt. 

your ears feel like they’re on fire when his face lights up. “but only when you get better! i don’t wanna get sick again.”

he nods, a satisfied grin blooming on his lips. “sounds good to me.”

there’s a beat of silence before you stand up. sae’s eyes widen, “where are you going?”

“i’m gonna go make you some soup,” you hum, “you should sleep while i’m gone.”

sae pouts, “‘m not tired.”

“that’s too bad, then,” you stick your tongue out at him. he clicks his tongue. 

“i’ll be back soon,” you pat his head. he huffs, pouting.

you barely take a step forward, yelping when you feel something yank you back. your brows knit in annoyance when you feel sae wrapping his arms around you. 

“sae.”

“‘m only going to sleep if you stay with me.” he mutters.

an amused smile tugs at your lips. you’re starting to think he’s cute when he’s sick. a little clingy, but cute. (you also think you might indulge him just this once.)

“fine,” you sigh. “but i’m leaving as soon as you fall asleep.”

you don’t. 

you’re not sure exactly when you fell asleep, but you’re sure it wasn’t dark outside when sae pulled you towards him. part of you wants to stay with him, just to let him sleep longer. but you also know you need to make him some soup. 

so, you gently try to pry yourself off of him. a soft groan leaves your lips when his arms tighten around you. 

his name tumbles out of your mouth. “i have to go make your soup.”

“‘m coming with you.” his voice sounds hoarse. (his nose sounds stuffy, too.)

“sae,” you try to pry his arms off, “you need to rest.”

“‘m going with you.” he huffs, “there’s nothing you can say to make me not join you.”

you begrudgingly decide to indulge him again. which is why he’s slumped over your shoulder as you make your way to the kitchen. it’s why he’s holding onto your waist, burrowing his face in your neck as you move around the kitchen. 

(it’s why your face feels like it’s on fire when he nuzzles closer to you, smiling.)

and you think that maybe him being a little too clingy isn’t that bad.

when a girl in your class asks you what sae is to you, you’re not sure what to say. 

you could say he’s your roommate, like you used to. but you don’t think he’d make himself extremely comfortable in your personal space if he was just your roommate. you could also say he’s your friend (much to everyone’s surprise.) but you’re not sure if he’d be so obsessed with kissing you whenever you’re both home if he was just your friend. 

(still, he’s not exactly your boyfriend, either. you’re not sure what he is. neither of you have brought it up before.)

either way, she wouldn’t be satisfied with the answer you give her. at least, that’s what you think with the way she glowers at you.

so, you just say he’s nothing. (which is a lie. but she doesn’t need to know that.) 

the result is what you expected, some angry huffing and empty warnings to stay away from sae. (not that it’d work seeing how you live with him.) except, things take a turn for the worse when your phone screen lights up, displaying sae’s name on it while it rings on the table. 

a pained expression flashes through your face when she clears her throat. you tilt your head up to look at her, an awkward, tense smile on your lips.

“i thought you said he was nothing to you?” she scoffs. 

“he is.” you internally curse how fast you replied. you hope she didn’t notice. 

she rolls her eyes, “then why do you have his contact saved with a star on your phone?”

you blink, your lips pressing into a fine line. “because he’s a star?” 

she doesn’t look convinced. (neither are you.) a loud, annoyed groan leaves her lips as she looks you up and down, crossing her arms.

“listen here, idiot,” she glares at you. anger flashes in her eyes when your phone rings again. “i don’t know who you think you are–” 

(you don’t know who she thinks she is, but with the way she seems to be unaware that you literally live with sae, you assume she must be some clueless freshman who happened to go to one of the football matches, saw sae, and became one of his many fans.)

“–but if you even consider the idea that sae might be into you–”

(you don’t even have to consider the idea, it pretty much solidified itself as a fact given with the way he kisses you until both of you are struggling to catch your breath whenever you two are alone.)

“–then you’ve got another thing coming,” she grabs your wrist, digging her nails into your skin. “i don’t know how someone like you got his number, but he doesn’t need freaks like you bothering him.”

she looks at you with contempt, “so stay away from him, or else–”

“or else what?” 

you both turn your heads to the door. her grip on your wrist loosens. you bite back a laugh when she removes her hand, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“sae,” she takes a step closer to him. you hide your smile behind your hand when you see his clearly annoyed and disgusted expression. (you note he looks disheveled. you also notice his duffel bag slung over his shoulders.)

“or else what?” you snort at the clear anger in his voice. he glares at her, crossing his arms. she shrinks into herself, clearly nervous. 

“i was just trying to keep this freak away from you,” she plays with her hair. you feel embarrassed for her when she continues, “you shouldn’t have to deal with–”

“who the fuck even are you anyway?” he cuts her off, scowling. 

her eyes light up, “i’m–”

“leaving? i sure fucking hope so.” he scoffs, walking over to you. his face softens when he looks at you. 

sae extends his hand out to you, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips when you slip your hand into his. he reaches out for your backpack, quickly shrugging it on his shoulder before you can protest. 

“i thought you were one of the first people out of class,” he hums, lacing his fingers with yours.

your eyes flicker to the girl, who is still standing next to the table, face flushed in embarrassment. “i got held up.”

sae glances in her direction, scoffing in annoyance. “you’re still here?”

you can’t help but feel a little bad for her when her eyes well up with tears of embarrassment, her hands bunching up her skirt. “i thought–”

“you thought wrong,” he clicks his tongue, “now get lost.”

her eyes snap to yours, anger replacing the embarrassment, “i thought you said he was nothing to you!”

sae gasps, looking at you, hurt written all over his face. you look away, biting the inside of your cheek. he calls out your name, “why’d you say that?”

“i didn’t know what else to say,” you mumble. 

“say i’m your boyfriend!,” he huffs. “or do you not want to say that?”

heat floods your face. you hide your face in sae’s back when you hear choked sobs. you tug at his jacket, “can we just go home already?”

you take a peek at the girl from behind sae’s shoulder. “i don’t want to talk about this here.”

“fine,” he mutters, “but this conversation is not over.”

he drags you out of the classroom. you don’t look back, but you gnaw your bottom lip when you hear muffled sobs coming from behind you. 

you both walk in silence for a bit. a small smile blooms on your lips when sae slows down his pace to match yours. 

“i’m surprised you didn’t tell her off.” he hums. 

“you got there before i could,” you fondly shake your head, “i would’ve loved giving her a piece of my mind.”

a soft laugh leaves his lips, “i’m sure you’ll find another occasion to do so.”

the walk home feels quicker than usual. you suppose it’s because sae’s actually with you instead of over the phone.

you’re barely past the door to your apartment when sae wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. he relaxes when you wrap your arms around him. 

“if someone asks you what i am to you,” he nuzzles his face into your neck, “just tell them i’m your boyfriend.”

“are you sure?” your hands clench around his jacket. 

he pulls back slightly to look at you, confusion written all over his face. “yeah? am i not your boyfriend already?”

“i don’t know?” your brows knit in confusion. 

“i thought it was clear?” he blinks. “it wasn’t clear to you?”

“i don’t think i would’ve been threatened by one of your fangirls if it was clear,” you deadpan. 

“oh.” he presses his lips into a fine line. “well, now you know.”

your jaw drops, “you’re not even going to ask if i want you to be my boyfriend?”

“i think it’s safe to say we’re well past asking,” he stares at you. 

“still,” you pout, “it’d be nice if you did.”

“what, are you going to give me a sticker if i do?” he scoffs. 

“i was gonna give you a kiss, but if you don’t wanna ask, then–”

“would you let me be your boyfriend?”

laughter spills out of your lips, “you didn’t even let me finish!” 

“just answer my question.” he smiles. “and hurry it up too, i have to clean.”

you playfully shake your head, “so demanding. but, i suppose you can be my boyfriend.”

sae’s lips are on yours as soon as the words leave your mouth. you gasp in surprise when he nips at your lower lip. 

you’re not sure how long he kisses you for, but you feel dizzy when you pull away. you angle your head away from his when he chases after your lips again. 

“i thought,” you pant, “thought you said you had to clean.” 

“it can wait.” he breathes out. 

“i have to cook.” 

he angles your head back to face him, “it can wait.”

“but–”

he calls out your name with a smile, “it can all wait. just let me kiss you again.”

“okay.” you smile when he tilts your head towards his. 

you think you’re starting to understand sae’s obsession with kissing you.

when you think of itoshi sae, the first thing that comes to mind is: boyfriend. you’re not sure if you’re ever going to get used to calling him that. you’ve told him it still sounds weird, he simply says it sounds perfect. 

you’re also not sure you’ll ever get used to the many pairs of eyes staring holes into the back of your head. (you blame sae for insisting you wear his spare jersey to his games.)

still, you suppose you could put up with all the staring if it means you get to see sae play.

(even if it means you have to endure his showing off for the next hour.)

“did you see how great i was out there?” he puffs out his chest. 

“you were the best!” you smile when he laces his fingers with yours. “i think you deserve a reward.”

you bite back a laugh when his head turns to look at you, eyes twinkling with anticipation. “close your eyes.”

you can practically feel the excitement rolling off of him as he closes his eyes. you let go of his hand, snickering when his brows furrow. you quickly reach into your bag, pulling out the sticker sheet you stashed in there. 

a laugh leaves your lips when you gingerly place a star sticker on sae’s cheek. “you can open your eyes now.”

you heartily laugh when sae touches his cheek, glaring at you when he feels the outline of a star. he huffs, “you’re the worst.”

“shut up, you love them.” you flick his forehead. 

he tsks, poking your nose. “when you said i deserved a reward, i thought you meant a kiss.”

“i can kiss you if you want.” you cheekily smile at him. he huffs, crossing his arms.

he turns his head away from you, “you ruined the moment with those stupid, lukewarm stickers.”

“you say that as if you don’t stick them against your mirror.” you stick your tongue out at him, the corners of your lips lifting into a smile when his cheeks flush. 

“i hate you,” he frowns, looking at you.

“no you don’t,” you peck his cheek.

“whatever,” he grumbles, “let’s just go home already.”

you laugh when he grabs your hand, tugging you in the direction of your apartment. (you don’t mention the smile on his lips.)

“i’m going to cook today,” he laughs when you groan in disgust. “i’ve gotten better!”

“yeah, right.” you quip. “i think it’d be better if you clean while i cook.”

“what if we cook together?” he hums.

“you’ll just get in my way.” you smile, laughing when he shakes your arm. 

“what if we go out to eat?” he shrugs nonchalantly. (you still notice the flush on his ears.)

“itoshi sae!” you gasp dramatically, “are you asking me out on a date?”

he scoffs, cheeks turning bright red. “don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“i’d be honored to go out with the itoshi sae,” your voice drips with mischief. a soft gasp leaves your lips when he tugs you to him, wrapping his arms around you.

“i think it’s me who’s honored to go out with you,” he mumbles. you hug him back, nuzzling into him. 

“we still need to head home, though,” he pulls away, “i want to take a shower.”

“want me to join you?” you laugh when you see his scandalized expression.

“you’re so shameless!” he bites back a laugh, hiding his face behind his hands.

“oh, please, like we haven’t showered together before.” you playfully scrunch your nose. 

he clicks his tongue, “as tempting as it sounds, i really would like to go eat early today.”

you fondly roll your eyes, tugging him towards your apartment. “fine.”

“but i’m not opposed to taking a shower with you when we get back.” he bites back a smile when you smack his shoulder.

the walk home is filled with laughter, teasing smiles on both of your faces. and, for once, you’re glad to have an opinion of sae.

(especially because it’s based on the version of your sae, and not the one everyone else thinks he is.)

[faatosinaswriting]

(PT. 2)

Simon Henrikkson x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, a little bit heated, but nothing bad.

A/N: WAAAGH!! Thank you for the support on the last one! (Also we are just going to act as if he lives in the apartments durring the earlier events, because if he were at his mom's house that would be a little bit uncomfortable.)

SUMMARY: Simon takes you back to his place, and it gets a little...WINK WINK...IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAANNN...

Simon placed his hand on your thigh, slightly going higher durring the drive to his apartment, you haven't ever really seen his apartment room before. He gently squeezed your upper thigh, suddenly. "Are you alright?" his attention averted toward you.

"Oh, yeah! I was zoning out for a minute, I'm sorry." you offered a friendly smile to the man.

"If you're ever uncomfortable you can tell-"

You cut him off with a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm serious, I'm okay." you stated in a reassuring tone, Simon's face reddening at the kiss you had given him. You believed he hadn't been used to that type of affection before. When you had arrived to the apartment complex, he gripped your hand and practically blasted up the stairs. You opened the brown beat down door, a CREEEEK! followed with it, Simon proceeded kicked the door shut with his shoe.

"I like it here, its cozy." you tilted your head at the lover boy, his eyes drifting to your lips.

"Mm, is that so?" he muttered, his focus still on your lips.

"Yeah!" you had realized he was staring, and started blushing.

"Your lips look awfully cozy, though, my lips are a bit tired..Mind if they rest on yours for a bit?" he asked, smirking.

"I don't think I do mind." you winked at him.

You pulled him closer by his collar, his hands landing on your hips. He was desperate for you. His grip was enough to bruise you, but you didn't mind. Actually, you rather enjoyed it. The height difference was impeccable, he was so tall. And you LOVED it. He groaned into the kiss, trying to kiss deeper, and deeper, and deeper... He wanted every part of you.

"You're so fucking gorgeous." he parts your lips, you then responded in a protest, you were, also, undeniably desperate for him. He gripped your thighs and picked you up, your arms wrapped around the back of his neck, walking into his bedroom. He proceeded to then give you a long, juicy, intense kiss. A moan slipping past your lips. He climbed upon his bed, his grip still remaining as tight as ever. You felt his rough grip on your ass, you whimpered, and he gently chuckled at your reaction. When you looked at his hands, his veins were visible. He suddenly let go of your hips, starting to kiss you EVERYWHERE. Like, literally EVERYWHERE. He began kissing down your stomach before he stopped and arose from his position. He gave you a kiss on the cheek, though, his action didn't go unnoticed because your eyebrows were furrowed.

"Hey, don't play with me like that!" you threatened, your face still incredibly red, God, the effect he had on you was simply surreal. He gripped your hips once again, placing you on his thigh.

"Pick a movie to watch, please." he asked, the TV screen enlighting his face, making him look angelic. "Please, sweet girl." he whispered in your ear, his voice making you shiver.

"Okay.." you agreed, grabbing the remote.

[bigassmoonchild]

Tears

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: You'd never seen Simon cry. He was the scary Ghost, and Ghosts didn't cry. Maybe he had just grown too comfortable with you, because it didn't take long to be pushed back an arms length.

Content Tags: Fluff, Simon Simping, Angst, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Reader Simping, Crying, Senseless Worry, Fear, Fear of Death, Thoughts of Death (NOT suicidal ideation), Hurt/No Comfort, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No Use of Y/N

A/N: I am so sorry about being awol this week, my heart condition and migraines have whooped my ass. I wasn't expecting how this would turn out, but I enjoy it a lot. Mostly internal thoughts, some interactions here and there. Anyways, here's part 15!

Part 1 | Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist

The few days you spent back home, it was slowly getting better. Your father had accepted Simon, your mother was spending a lot of her time doting on you and Simon, but Clint was still gone. Nowhere to be seen, no one had heard from him.

Arthur still stayed quiet, but you remembered him as the gentle boy he once was. He'd always been that way, especially after everything your father had done when he presented. No one talked about it anymore, but your brother still stepped on eggshells around everyone.

Simon had grown to enjoy spending time with the pack pups, reminiscing on his time with Price's own. Even then, he'd never considered that he would have any of his own. It was terrifying. Clair had pulled him away, baring her teeth and threatening a few different deaths if he'd so much as hurt you.

How dead he'd be if she knew.

And that's all he could think about, watching as Clair doted on her own Omega. Watching as she loved and cared for her pups. Seeing her act like an amazing Alpha, one he'd never thought he would be. Him? Someone's Alpha? It scared him, even so long after it had occurred.

His mind was constantly warring with itself, the old him trying to get him to run, dump his savings onto you and disappear into the wilderness. The other part of him, though, saw you as you existed. In the mornings, hair a mess and eyes still tired. After sex, your eyes slightly glazed over and skin heated.

He could see you, puffy eyed as you admitted your fears to him that first night back. He heard the sobs you gave him, oh so many time.

Simon saw the fire in your eyes as you snapped on him.

And he loved you all the more for it. You were his Omega, his precious mate. What he could consider the love of his life. And yet he looked at you, admiring your older sister with a look in your eye that seemed almost... regretful.

It was then that he really thought. Deeply, on all the past conversations. He had seen a similar regret in your face while driving back to the hotel, eyes still puffy from the crying.

Price, speaking with him one night. "How many people would wish to be mated like that?" Price had once asked him. "She is living, breathing and eating with a man she does not know. You can't make this any more difficult than it is," but this had been the first few weeks of your mating.

Were the two of you still strangers? Or acquaintances now? He didn't even know your favorite color, let alone simple facts about you. And now, as he lay next to you, he feared that perhaps everything had gone too quickly.

Even as he felt your fingers grasping at his sleep shirt, feeling the press of your swollen belly against his side. Everything had happened so quickly, and he hadn't been there for the first, what? Six months? He knew, almost inherently, that it was a poor representation of him.

His Alpha groaned, baring it's teeth at the thought that he was a bad Alpha. Even as he stared at the ceiling, eyes cast over, thoughts prickling over everything. The distaste at the back of Simons throat was strange. His eyes burned, and he blinked his eyes clear.

What the hell? Tears?

Simon was able to get your hands untangled from his shirt, shifting out of bed carefully and finding his way to the bathroom. Shutting the door carefully, he flicked on the light and found his reflection staring at him.

The vision blurred, staring through himself rather than at. He couldn't see himself. Not Simon, barely Ghost, but rather the monster he often thought of in the midst of missions. A killer, someone who took lives, not create. He was a monster, claiming you without permission, and he could feel the heat of his tears pouring down his cheek.s

The door opened, and he couldn't think. Barely heard your voice, calling out, wondering why the hell Alpha smelled sour and was crying. Your arms wrapped around him, pressing a gentle kiss against his back.

You could feel the hiccupped breaths he was taking, you could see the distant look in his eyes through the mirror and his scent was horrid. It smelled purely of distress, pain, even hints of anger. Not the scent of Simon.

Grasping his hand, he followed mindlessly as you dragged him back into the main room, gently pushing him onto the bed. Standing between his legs, you ran your fingers through his hair.

"Simon," you whispered, carefully. "Love, what's wrong? Your scent is so strong, but it isn't you. What's wrong? Please, Simon," and you whispers continued. His eyes remained blank, gone. Even as thoroughly exhausted as you were, you could feel fear twinging in your gut.

You'd never seen Simon like this, but you'd seen soldiers coming back from intense battles who looked like this. Not your Simon, not him. No, maybe there'd be days that he would grow quiet and slightly distant, but he never looked like this.

Even as your hands found his cheeks, your lips pressing against his head, you heard nothing from him. You moved, reaching for the phone you'd tucked somewhere before collapsing into bed, and felt his hands grasp for yours.

His fingers entwined with yours, tugging you closer to him once more. Simons arms wrapped around you, his head resting against your chest. You could hear his sobs, muffled by your body, but you could feel his shoulders shaking.

Pressing your lips to the top of his head, you slowly rocked the two of you side to side. You stayed there, listened, held him. His sobs hurt you, nearly scared you. Such a strong man, an amazing Alpha, broken down into tears. And from what?

You thought, and thought, and thought. There was nothing, you realized, that you could think would cause this. You couldn't remember a thing that happened today that would make him break down. Maybe it had been Clint? Your family initially not accepting him, hurting him?

No. He wouldn't even think about that kind of thing. Sure, he'd had a reddened cheek for some time afterwards, but nothing that would cause him to cry this hard.

Your lips pressed against his head once more, squeezing your arms around him tighter. He sniffled, sobs breaking down into just some hiccups. You could feel your shirt wet, from his tears. You could see your silhouette from the light in the bathroom. The darkness wasn't all encompassing, not in the little hotel room you had.

It was like a gentle blanket, hiding the two of you from the rest of the world. You could feel Simon pull his head up, resting his chin against you while looking up. His eyes blinked long and slow, they were reddened and puffy. His skin was slightly blotchy, but pale from the near hyperventilation.

Neither of you spoke, your fingers brushing the stray tears away before cupping his cheeks. Pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, you gave him a little smile.

"What's wrong, Si?" You broke the silence and he shook his head. His eyes had closed, some more tears breaking free. He tried tugging you closer, your belly stopping you from getting as close as the two of you wanted.

It seemed funny to you. The pup, now seemingly forever separating the two of you just a little. More than you'd been prior to it's conception, it had now separated you. The closest you'd ever get to him would be looking in the same direction, just a step ahead of him. The pup would separate the two of you forever, maybe never gaining that distance back.

But you'd do it all for the loving smiles and little touches you got from him. You'd do it all again if it meant you'd stand right where you were, and you would never change your path. You'd take the same steps every single time if it meant you'd be standing where you were.

And you hoped he could feel it in the way you pressed your lips to his head, squeezed him a little tighter. You hoped he could feel it in the way your fingers ran through his hair, the way you'd always be right by his side.

Maybe he would never know. Even as he tugged you into bed, pulling your back to his chest and burying his face into the nape of your neck. Even while his fingers intertwined with yours, cupping the little pup resting just inches from your hands.

You could only hope, as the two of you woke, he understood how much you truly loved him as you helped clean his face up. Dried tears were a bitch, you knew. You could see the pain in the way his eyes shut a little tighter when the sun rose just a little more. You truly could only hope he would understand how much you loved him as you shut the curtains and curled back up into bed with him.

Maybe, just maybe he would realize how much you loved him while watching his interactions with the family pack pups. Seeing him allowing the little girls and boys paint his nails or play fight with him. Seeing how he treated your mother with such respect, allowing your siblings to do as they pleased to him.

And on the plane home, you could feel him squeeze your hand gently. "I truly love you, Simon," you whispered. "I wouldn't give up a single decision I've made," and he rested his head on yours. "If I had to do it all over, I don't think I'd do anything different," and you could feel his cheek shifting against your head.

"I love you, sweet Omega," he whispered in turn. "With all my heart, I truly mean it when I say I would do anything to make you happy," and his lips pressed against your head. You sighed deeply, allowing sleep to take over you.

Simons fingers brushed along your back, gently shaking you awake. You didn't want to go back, you realized. You wanted Simon all to yourself, maybe have a nice little home in the country. Maybe watch your pups just exist out where they wouldn't have to fear anything.

Keeping Simon to yourself, he would never almost die again. You would never lose each other to the trivial ideations of war. You'd never be given subsidies for his death, and you would never have to plan a funeral for the man you loved.

You wouldn't have to worry about anything if you were able to get him to retire. Maybe the two of you could open a shop, or a little clinic. Help people who needed it the most, ensure everyone was taken care of.

And in the car, you finally spoke up. "Will you stay in the military once the pup is born?" You asked, voice growing quiet. His eyes flashed over to you, his brows furrowed under the balaclava.

"What d'you mean?" He asked. "Obviously I'll get leave to be with the two of you, but I can't just leave my job," he spoke, carefully. You hummed, staring through the windshield.

You didn't look at him. "What if you die? The pup will never know you, it'd be safer to-"

"To what? Go work an office job?" He sounded surprised. "Lovie, working in the military gives me the money we'd need to take care of the pup. This is my life, I can't just drop it all of a sudden. Price is able to balance it all, I can't see why I won't," you looked at your hands, playing with your fingers.

"I'm just worried, s'all," you whispered and you could see him shake his head from your peripheral.

"You needn't worry, I've survived this long. I'm not leaving my job, not for..." he trailed off, not finishing his sentence. You could feel your chest tightening, the dream of the nice little home in the country vanishing just as quick as it had come.

He wouldn't give up his job. Not for you, not for a pup. You were dumb for even thinking it. The car was silent the rest of the drive, you had grabbed your bag as soon as he'd parked and walked yourself back onto the compound.

You would have a lot of work to catch up on, and Simon left you to be. You had entered your office, just staring at the sad little desk and papers stacked on it. You truly were stuck in this life, and you slowly grew to realize you didn't want to be just a doctor.

You'd signed up to be a combat medic, not sit safe and sound in the compound. Had you truly given up your dream? Just for an Alpha, and now his pup? Was this what it meant to be an Omega?

There was no one you would tell that you sat at your desk, door locked and quietly sobbing. You were just so tired, and you wanted to be heard. You knew, unconsciously, it was a big ask of him but you'd hoped, genuinely, that he might hear you out and understand.

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