#someone will sit down and make a STATEMENT and i'm just '...huh. really?'

[filthygalli]

Glasses

Oneshot: Fem! Reader x Professor! Lee Byung-Hun

Main Masterlist

LBH Masterlist

Warnings: Orange paragraph means flashbacks, Classroom setting, Brat reader, Brat tamer LBH, Professor x Student relationship, Forbidden relationship, Teasing, Nipple play, light choking, Byung-Hun being a tease as always, Not Proofread! Let me know if i missed anything.

Word Count: 821

Author’s Notes: So, I was deleting some deafts on my docs about fics, then i came across this…my jaw dropped because I do not remember writing this….

Taglist: (Want to be in my LBH taglist? Let me know!)

@rimzaaa @alex-17s-world @sylviavf @sweetstrawberrianne @nightblxezz @animelight128 @yxluana @carolinevoight @itsmoonchik

The door swung open as a tall figure came out of it, “What are you doing in here? Aren't you supposed to be home right now?” Byung-Hun checked his watch as he looked at his student who's reading a book.

Y/n looks up and rolls her eyes, “Can you give me my glasses back? Can't see shit.” She said as she pointed at her professor's face, wearing her glasses.

Byung-Hun chuckled as he walked slowly to Y/n, “I'll give it to you, but…you have to give me something as well.” He leans at her table, looking at her eyes, smirking at her. “And why would I do that? You just snatched it on me teasingly earlier at your class, just give it.”

“I'm pretty sure our lesson for today is about Global economy, not some fictional book, right?” He said looking at the class then looked down at Y/n who's sitting In Front of her.

She closes the book slowly and looks at her professor innocently, Byung-Hun leans down at her and chuckles as he takes Y/n’s glasses and wears it to himself, “So let's get back to global economy…” he smirks down at Y/n who's stunned at his action.

“What's with the attitude, Ms. Y/n? Not a good day for you?” Byung-Hun chuckled, “I thought it's always a good day when you see me?” Y/n rolls her eyes at his statement, she sighs “Just give it to me and I'll be on my way.” Byung-Hun chuckled, “And why would I do that?” “Because it's my glasses you dummy.” She stood up grabbing her book and her bag, “Fuck it, it's yours, I can buy a new one.”

Byung-Hun was liking the way she acts, bratty, the bratty side of her that he likes so much, he chuckled, “Sit. Down.” His words made Y/n stopped what she's doing, she nodded and sat down slowly, Byung-Hun grabbed the chair beside her and sat down, “You know I really like you, but your bitchy attitude…” he sighs “I don't like it, so now.. we're going to do something..to fix that attitude of yours, Understand?” Y/n didn't say anything and Byung-Hun didn't like it. He chuckled, annoyed at her, she just looked at him innocently and that made him snap. “So..this is how you want me to play, huh?” He chuckled, as he stood up and grabbed her throat lightly, “If you think..that you can act like this, talk like this to me, you're fucking wrong, understand?” Fear in her eyes showed as Byung-Hun started giving pressure on her neck, choking her. She nodded, “Words, Sweetheart. Need to hear you say it.” He said smirking at her, “Yes, Sir..I understand.”

He smirks, “Now, I want you to be a good girl and do what I ask you to do, no questions, just do it, understand?” He looks at her, waiting for her response, “Yes, Sir.” He smiled, “Good girl.” He released his hands from his throat making Y/n breath heavily, he sat down and pats his lap, “Sit here.” Y/n was hesitant but she saw the anger in his eyes, she sat down, unsure of what he's gonna do to her, he started touching her all over the place…kissing her exposed skin on her neck, sniffing her scent, “You smell Divine ..” he said as he slowly unbuttoned her shirt, “Sir..what if someone see us..?” Her voice is shaking, not knowing what her professor can do to her. “Don't you like it? Other professors will see how much of a slut you are for me?” he chuckled as he felt Y/n shiver, “Don't you want this..?” He asked and Y/n replied, “I want it.. it's just..” “it's just what?” He started caressing her tits, “Hmm, i– it's just– new to me..fuck..” “Remove your shirt, put it on the table.” He said as Y/n started removing the tuck in of her shirt, she stood up as she removed her shirt and threw it on the table, Byung-Hun smirks at the site in front of him,

"You're going to be the death of me." Byung-Hun murmured, his voice thick with desire. He reached out, his fingers tracing the curve of her breast, teasing her hardened nipple through the thin material of her bra.

Y/n gasped, arching into his touch. He reached her back, unclasping her bra and letting it fall to the floor. Her breasts bounced free, “Sit down, but face forward.” Y/n did what she was told and Byung-Hun couldn't resist leaning down to capture one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive bud.

Y/n's breath hitched as Byung-Hun's mouth worked on her nipple, her fingers threading through his hair. The sensation was too much, and she found herself arching into him, her body begging for more.

[n3ptoonz]

'She's My Collar'

THANKS FOR 700+!!😁😁❤️❤️

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky/F!Reader

Fandom: MCU

Warnings/tags: Smut; Explicit, sub!bucky; dom!reader, assistant!reader, handjob, orgasm denial, he's terrible at hiding his emotions, praise kink!!! small dirty talk; dialogue, kinda proofread

the way i kept almost scrapping this bc i didn't want it to be like every other assistant reader fic like😭but i did it yayyy!!

edit: in consideration for another part

Word count: 2.3k+

It's been a long day. Ironically enough, more for you than him. You may not be his writer but you surely have to pick up some of the pieces after he fumbles when talking to the press about literally anything. Three knocks pressed against his door before you walked in, well aware he didn't care when it was you. Not many people were allowed to just roll up on him like that, if even anybody else.

You opened your binder and handed him a sheet of next week's schedule already. His cheeks puffed with the future exhaustion that was yet to come, but still he thanked you as he always does. He never lets you go until you've heard him say thank you, especially because he knows you didn't expect it. It's your job. It's what you get paid to do for whoever sits in that chair. That and you don't take any bullshit. A bit funny considering you've never had to remind him of that, not that you ever needed to--which was refreshing.

"Not a problem," you said with a small smile. "You have a one o'clock conference to attend downstairs but they didn't tell me what it was about. Just told me to deliver the message but press will be there. Look alive, Barnes."

Bucky nodded and checked his watch, still having some time but he figured he get an early head start. He stood up and grabbed a thin binder full of papers. "Let's just head down now. Get this over with."

You walked down the halls with a confident stride, him not so much.

"Try not to look like someone pissed in your cereal, yeah?" you said with a glance as you stopped in front of the boardroom. That earned a faint smirk and soft huff through his nose.

"Yes ma'am." he said. You narrowed your eyes.

"You mocking me?" you playfully accused.

"Never in a hundred and ten years." he teased back before checking his watch again with a tired sigh already. "I guess this is me."

"Stay alert and don't freeze." you reminded him with a pat on his back. He gave you a puzzled look.

"I don't freeze."

"Long pauses then saying absolutely nothing important is adjacent to freezing." you remarked and gestured for him to go in. He had a look of 'do I really do that?' written all over his face before he gave you one more glance and went in.

A long hour and a half later, you came back to his office with a sheet of paper fresh off the printer sitting atop your binder. Two--determined--knocks pressed to his door before you walked in. He looked up at you from his desk, taking note of your neutral expression that was a bit tighter than usual.

"We need to work on your media training." you said while sliding the paper onto his desk. He skimmed the paper and slowly looked up with a sheepish look. "That bad, huh?"

"You looked like you wanted to toss that reporter from the top of the building." you deadpanned, a hint of humor in your tone.

"He shouldn't have stood so close." he grumbled, making you roll your eyes. "Don't I have writers for this kind of thing?"

"Yeah, for official statements. Speeches. You have to be prepared for as many angles as possible. I can't keep covering for you."

"...Why not?" he asked in genuine curiosity.

You blinked at him. "Barnes, I am your assistant." you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world--because it is. "You're lucky I'm willing to help."

You took off your blazer and smoothed out your slacks before taking out your phone. Ignoring his short grumble of protest, he couldn't say no. Not to you. He glanced up at you typing away and admired you from afar. His blue eyes pooling with curiosity and maybe...no. You are his assistant. Get your shit together, Barnes.

"You have strengths and weaknesses in different areas but the areas you lack are critical. One wrong move and the media will eat you alive."

"Right." he said with a short nod but was half paying attention.

You were saying something. Something about diplomatic responses. General answers that still relieve the question. Right? Something like that. You gestured towards the sheet and all...but his ass was not listening. Your dress shirt leaving everything up to the imagination as it was buttoned up to your collar bone. The longer you talked, the more time he had to just look at you; admire the view.

Damn it. He truly couldn't help it. You were pacing back and forth, hips sauntering unintentionally. The very subtle curve of your ass rising and falling from the side. Just- the general way you carried yourself was so incredibly sexy to him. How could he focus on a thing?

This is a small issue that's plagued him for a while now. Most of the time he's able to push this feeling down. Ignore it and let it go to the back of his mind, especially because, hello, he had more important shit to worry about. But whenever you lingered around in his office? Could be a regular conversation to discussing the following weeks, he has to kick himself so he didn't slip into every perverted thought that could flash across his eyes and fuck up the momentum.

That, and he might just be a little scared of you. But in a good way.

"...including your facial expressions." you finished what you were saying and were going to continue when you noticed he just locked back in. Hand on his chin, his brows raised and gaze more at attention.

"Barnes." you prompted.

"Hm?"

"Are you listening to me?"

"Uh, yeah. I was listening." - liar

"What was the last thing I said?"

Bucky cleared his throat and smacked his lips in feigned thought. He hadn't a damn clue. You put your phone down and leaned your palms on his desk. You weren't aware that you were making matters worse as you watched him avert his eyes down at his nails for a second.

"James." you said with narrowed eyes. He could hear his heart thumping in his ears. "Can you look at me?"

"Not really." he said under his breath, that familiar twitch under his pants making it borderline impossible to focus. He nearly squirmed under your scrutiny. How could his own assistant have this effect on him? You were so naturally authoritative and had your shit together, it was to the point of him questioning his own self some days.

You sighed and walked over next to him. He looked to his right for a moment before you undid some of the buttons of your shirt to reveal only a bit of your cleavage, but just enough. Leaning forward and seeing him rock solid before he quickly tried to cover it up brought an amused smile to your face.

"Here's what's going to happen," you began while carefully rolling up your sleeves. Your left arm draped over the back of the chair while your right hand scooted his out of the way of his erection. Embarrassed isn't even the word. If you didn't blink, you'd practically see it pulsating beneath its constricted fabric. He sighed and stopped trying to fight it. Cat's out of the bag!

"I'm going to read the questions at the top of the sheet and you're going tell me which response corresponds with each one," you pointed to the words on the paper yet all his focus was on your fragrance and your side boob completely taking over his peripheral. "And I will take care of that while you figure it out."

Bucky blinked and looked up at you, his eyes following down your arm and seeing you point to the length against his thigh.

"Uh- What?" he returned your gaze. Yeah, you definitely were not doing a bit. Probably the most serious he's seen you in a minute.

"Come on. We don't have all day. Should be easier than talking your ear off, right?" you said. He was appalled by how nonchalant you were being about this but he could see that very, very rare mischief was sure to present itself in your eyes. He grumbled again, this time it sounded more like frustration at himself. Or at his suddenly tight his pants became.

Bucky shimmied a bit before he was able to pull his dick out; fully hard and in desperate need of touch. He sucked in a sharp breath not only from the cold air, but also the sound of you already spitting in your palm.

When you wrapped your hand around him, he tensed. Not from discomfort, but he cannot remember the last time he was touched in such context. Too fucking long. He let out a soft, low groan and an even softer "Fuck" after.

You leaned further into him to the point where you were cheek to cheek, stroking him and jutting your chin towards the paper.

"Look alive, James," you prompted, he gripped the arm rests and blew a shallow breath to ground himself. He nodded a few times and squirmed, jaw clenched. You purposely changed the tone of your voice and he was due to fall apart from that alone.

"Okay," he whispered. Abs flexed and biceps tense under his suit. "Go."

You picked a question at random, stroking him at a steady pace. He grunted and stared hard at the paper. The words jumbled and made less sense the more seconds that went by.

"Uhh...shit, um-"

"Wrong." you said and let go. Bucky's eyes snapped open as he let out a pained groan.

"Why'd you stop?" he asked. He meant for it to come out annoyed but he sounded more desperate than anything.

"Tell me what that says." you said as you pointed to the question you picked. His Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped, repeating what you asked. Your hand found his shaft and started stroking him again. His breath stuttered as he took a deep breath and answered correctly this time.

"Good job," you whispered and increased the speed a little bit. His hips bucked slightly into your hand when the praise rang through his ears. If he was going to be praised by you, he better get these next answers right.

You picked another question that was easier. He could get this with his eyes closed.

Oh, they were.

"C'mon. You can do it," you said. The feeling of the side of your mouth moving against his face was adding to the sensation. "James." you added in, and when you slowed down he panicked and answered something that wasn't even on the paper.

You pulled away and he bucked upwards again like he was chasing your hand. His shoulders were stiff and he looked like he wanted to cry.

"Fuck- I'm sorry," he said with clenched teeth. "Please, I can do this." he continued with heavy breaths.

You smiled softly at his determination. Well, that wasn't the only thing you were cheesing about. Reducing a man that was so well put together to a shaking mess was the highlight of your day. The highlight of your job, really. Good thing it was lunch.

You started back up. This time was slower.

"You want me to go faster, earn it." you said.

"Yes, ma'am." he replied breathlessly. You asked a question, he licked his lips and stopped holding his breath. Finally, he got this one correct. You hummed in satisfaction and stroked him faster.

"Good job," you said. The pride in your voice made his heart rate rise. Another question, another correct answer that he almost missed, but got it nonetheless. You increased the pace and praised him once more. "You're doing great, James."

A choked moan escaped him and he started blushing like crazy.

"More." he muttered. So quiet you almost didn't catch it. "Please."

You asked one more question that wasn't on the paper and his heart nearly stopped.

"You wanna cum for me?" you asked, your thumb briefly running over the tip. His body jerked and he painfully groaned again. "James, I need a verbal answer."

"Yes." he spat out. Eyes closed and head resting on the back of his chair. "I wanna cum for you. I need to cum for you. Please."

"You did such a good job today, James. I'd say you earned it. Do you think you earned it?" you asked. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth so he wouldn't let the whole floor know about this personal training session you had going on.

"Yeah- Yeah, I earned it. I earned it- Fuck, don't stop-"

Bucky's lungs filled with oxygen the very seconds before his climax hit him in the gut. Short, quieted breaths leaving his lips as you decided to cover his mouth for him. And boy, did he let loose. The vibrations against your palm while the other stroked him through that release. Softened broken sobs seeping through your fingers. You shushed and cooed, praising him more.

As he started to relax, shoulders slumping against the chair, you let go of his now soft dick and wiped your hand with a napkin from his drawer. He sat there, hazy and staring at the ceiling. His eyes drifted back down to you fixing your shirt. Trying to memorize what your hands felt like on him. You grabbed the paper and tossed it in recycling. Turning to face him, you saw him sit up and get himself decent with a tired look on his face, a faint smirk to himself.

"Would you like to grab dinner later?" he asked as he slicked back his hair, a habit he had when trying to push down nervousness. You were fixing your cuffs while you were making your way towards him again. You sat at the corner of his desk next to him, hooking your index finger under his chin and leaning in just close enough to your lips being a breath away.

"I'll think about it."

[tojigasm]

Bucky would just understand the need to be taken care of, and he'd do it soooo well I love that man

"I just really need someone to take over for me. To just make my decisions for me and pay my bills and tell me how proud I make them." You vent, making your way through the tower kitchen, biting into baby carrots.

"You just want a dad." Bucky states rather blase as you sit down beside him in the same moment.

The astonishment must be evident on your face by the way that Bucky raises his brows at you derisively.

"What?" he shrugs at you, and you're instantly drawn to the thick building muscle of his biceps where his arms are crossed against his chest.

"Bucky..." youre nearly at a loss for words, "That's so inappropriate."

"I'm not the one who described my type in man as a parental figure."

your face feels hot, and suddenly, the temperature in the room feels all the more warmer and heavy.

"I didn't mean it like- like that!" You scramble for the right words and realize there are none.

"Sure you didn't." Bucky says rather boredly from his seat, eyes fixed on the TV screen once more.

"I dont want a dad I just -" You stammer, "I just want someone who'll take care of me, and I don't have to worry about anything. just want someone who is there for me and can fuck me so good I forget about everything else and someone who I can just turn my brain off around."

Bucky sighs, rolling his head on his shoulders.

"Okay, let's try this a different way then. "

"Okay..." you pull your legs up onto the couch, biting at the nail of your thumb.

bucky goes through your list once more, "Okay, so you want a dom then."

For some reason, that hadnt occured to you before. the statement makes your head go mushy for a moment as you imagine what it'd be like to have someone like that.

Someone controlling every aspect of your life out of genuine care and wanting to see you succeed or even just regulate your day-to-day life.

the hair on the back of your neck stands up as you imagine that someone being Bucky.

the thought of Bucky checking up on you throughout the day -- texting you or calling you to see if you've eaten enough or if you need money to go shopping.

You imagine him guiding you by hand, both metaphorically and literally -- talking you through intimate scenes and keeping you grounded as he holds you to his chest, pressing soft kisses to your hair.

Or the two of you making dinner — you sitting on the countertop while he cuts vegetables, passing by you with an excuse to kiss you ever so often.

And the thought of him talking you down from the high of something so vulnerable and intimate all in the same with soft kisses to your temple and the contrasting touch of his hands on your skin, murmuring "Always my good girl, y'know that." Into your hair.

You have to pull yourself out of your own head before it becomes too much.

Your thighs rub against one another under you and you dig your hands into the fabric of your sweatshirt.

If Bucky notices, he doesn't say anything. Perhaps he's decided to take mercy on you.

"Yeah, maybe that is it." You offer.

You know you've been too quiet for too long.

Your mouth feels dry and your tongue feels heavy against your teeth all the same.

"Or, you want someone to play daddy." Bucky says.

Your eyes meet his instantly.

You stutter, trying to find the right words but words don't seem to make sense. Unable to even form a thought as Bucky stands up from the couch.

"Need someone to be daddy fr'you?" He asks, cautious as he rests his hand on the curve of your jaw.

You're speechless under him.

"Can daddy touch you, baby?" He asks, stroking the pad of his thumb against your soft skin.

"Please." You nearly whimper, letting yourself relax into his hand almost immediately.

And you've been needing this for so long — needing to relinquish yourself and just let someone else take the weight of everything.

Bucky coos at that.

"Just need someone to take care of you, huh sweetheart."

You nod.

"Tell me what you need."

You think Bucky might be the right one to give that vulnerability to.

"Need it to all go away," you say quietly.

Bucky hums, pressing the pad of his thumb against your lips and letting you take his digit into your mouth.

"Let daddy take care of it then."

[yeppeun-riaa]

What do you think their type of girl is: ran, rindou, sanzu and kakucho

TR MEN AND THEIR TYPE

MDNI 18+

Not proofread. Idk why rans own is the shortest because hes my fav😫, I got carried away with the rest😭,hope you enjoy tho, thank you for the ask💕!

⋆RAN

Ran is into brats! women that are stubborn, women that have an attitude that will be the death of them, women that are way to dramatic and clingy, overall just downright bratty, he'd love to put them in their place when they decide to bitch out on him, he's sadistic and loves to watch them cry while he punishes them.

'You really thought you'd get away after pulling that shit? Then fucking think again, whore, you should be glad I'm putting that dirty mouth of yours to good use' he'd say through gritted teeth while using your mouth th get himself off.

ALSO. He likes when she plays hard to get, he always up for a challenge. I think he'd also be into very studious girs, like student council, top of all her classes type shit because it boosts his ego, and melts his heart, knowing that someone so uptight would crumble within mere seconds under his touch.

⋆RINDOU

He honestly just loves women, he really isn't that picky when it comes to his type but he would fall 10× harder for a girl if she was clingy and really into pda. You might disagree but I think rindou is a moderate fan of pda😭 he just loves all the attention he'd get.... The fact that his girlfriend would always want to hold hands or want him to have his anywhere on her body, a girl that just needs him would ignite a fire in him, he may not show it but he enjoys being wanted...

Your mouth hung agape and you saw stars as rindou thrusted into you at an inhumane pace, all while bending you almost painfully over the sink. "Fuck—rin!" You cried as his hand came down on your ass, you looked like a mess as you locked gaze with yourself in the mirror, tears streaming down your face, makeup all ruined while rindou pounded into you from behind. "You just can't keep your hands to yourself huh?" He says punctuating each word with a slap to your behind. "Don't fucking cry, you wanted this and now you'll take everything I give you and thank me after" yeah... when you came back to the others it was pretty obvious what went down.

⋆SANZU

He likes himself a bimbo, a woman that's that kind, caring, innocent and downright stupid, a girl that's book smart, but stupid in anything else. The type dumb of girl that walks around in tight clothes and thinks the men staring at her being friendly, of course he gets annoyed when she fails to realize that someone is flirting with her, or when she ask the most dumb question and won't stop fucking talking, but it's okaayyy, he loves to shut her up and teach her a lesson!!

"W-wait haru! too much" you'd yelp from your spot on the bed, trying to break free from your restraints to tug him away from your aching pussy. He smirks and runs his tongue up your slit, sticking one more finger into your tight hole and sucking harshly on your clit, "you're a fucking whore, if i didn't know any better I'd think you did that on purpose because you wanted a punishment" he spat harshly at you, you lost count of how many times you came, all you were sure of was that he needed to stop because it was all too much. "Baby I'm sorry! I di-didn't know he was flirting", he scoffs slapping your cunt making tears form on your waterline, "how could you not know? He was all up in your fucking face, talking about he could be better to you than me, are you dumb, or just dumb." It was a statement, not a question and you mourned seeing him sit up to undo his pants, it was gonna be a long fucking night.

⋆KAKUCHO

Kakucho is another one that just loves women♡ he's smitten for women that are confident, it drives him crazy (in a good way) when a girl is passionate and radiates good energy. That popular girl that everyone knows and loves, the girl that every guy wants, the girl that everyone would throw hands for if she ever cried. He wants that type of girl so he can be there for her, and see the side of her no one else gets to. Even the sad side that she never shows, he'll take great pride that he was able to break down her walls and be the only one too see her In that different night. He want to be the one that makes the false happiness, that no one else could detect, real.

"Shh, it's okay" he'd whisper sweet nothings I to your ear at night while he made love to you. Some nights rough, others slow and sensual, it all depended on how you felt, and right now you were sad, all you wanted was the him to love on you, melt all the sadness away. And that's exactly what he would do.

[kryannoy]

Hii! Can we have another yandere Andrew graves x reader?

genre: (i don't know what to call this)

character: yandere!andrew graves x reader

warnings: manipulation, gaslighting, andrew traumatizing/scaring the reader, obsessive, possessive

He's cruel. So cruel.

But he loves you madly. Dearly.

And he wants you only for himself. No one can get you.

And the only way to make sure you understand that, is by breaking your heart and rebuilding it himself.

You and Andrew have been friends for quite some time now. In high school, he was the quiet kid with few friends and you were you, just living your life. He would never have noticed you if it weren't for when you made him realize that some kids were bullying him with running a few errands for them. It opened his eyes when you smacked him with a statement; "You know they're just using you to their advantage."

Call him dumb, yes, but he sincerely thought they were just asking for help. He didn't mind it and maybe that's because he's so used to running errands for his younger sister, despite being the older sibling.

Ever since that day, he stopped accepting those "helps" and you decided to approach him more often. You both talked so much and learned so much of each other that he fell in love with you without you realizing. Andrew has always been a chill and nonchalant guy so you often overlook his emotions, not including the times that he can be sassy. But his demeanor makes it easy to talk to and you enjoyed it.

When you started to hang out with Andrew, some of the kids took it as you were showing pity to him. Or you approached him with a trick up your sleeve. Be it all those rumours, Andrew didn't care. He knows you're not that kind of person from all your conversations, your behavior, your gestures. They were all genuine.

After you both graduated high school, he still wanted to keep in touch and you didn't mind. Both of you meet up at your free time and when college starts, he 'coincidentally' got into the same university as you. And how excited was he to see you and the thought of seeing you every single day.

But how awfully mad was he to find out you liked some guy at your part-time workplace.

Andrew tried to keep you from coming to work, or convince you that guy is just another flirty guy who's playing with your feelings. But of course, his efforts went in vain as you somehow landed a date with your crush.

"Y/N, he's not taking this seriously! Don't go on that stupid date."

"Andrew, I understand you're worried. But what if you're wrong?" You say as you keep rummaging through your wardrobe for what to wear. Fancy? Cute? Casual? "Besides, I'm not a kid and you're not my mother, Andy."

He rolls his eyes at the nickname. He felt a sting at your little comment. You really don't see him as someone more than a friend, huh? How is he going to change your mind?

You hold up two shirts in front of you and show them to Andrew so he can choose but Andrew isn't looking at you anymore. You notice the small pout he has on his handsome face and immediately you put down your clothes. You sit next to him on the bed and pull his face to you.

"What made you so mad, hmm? Is it because of my little comment?"

He raises an eyebrow with an unbothered look.

"Because I called you 'Andy'? Or because I'm not listening to you for still wanting to go on a date with him?"

". . . All of it." He may be upset with you right now but he still savours your warm touch on his cheek before you let go.

"Andrew," you sigh. "Look, I know you mean well but relationships are never going to be like a fairytale. It needs trial-and-error. So, let me go on this date and see how it goes, yeah?" You smile that sweet smile so he can change his mind instead. Gosh, he wished he could kiss you right now.

"And if you end up crying?"

"I'll come to you and you'll be my shoulder to cry on?" You giggle at this.

Oh, he will. He will make sure you come back crawling to him and never disobey him again.

Andrew tickles your sides and you shrieked. You hear his chuckle indicating his mood has changed for the better a bit. It changed because he has a plan set up.

"And I would have the right to say 'I told you so'!"

-

The day of your stupid date has come and he's all set. He's nervous whether the plan will work or not, but in everyone's right mind, anyone would be heartbroken to see their crush kissing another person that's not them.

You were all dolled up it made his expression dark and deadly. Anyone walking by would be running after their lives.

He allows you to have fun with your date to let you have high hopes for something you would never get in the first place, just to be crushed and make you disgusted by that boy. He brought along his little sister, Ashley, for the plan.

"You're so weird, Andy," Ashley provoked while waiting for the perfect time to move. "You're letting your dear little sister kiss some random guy just for a girl?"

"As if you're not a slut with your boobs always sticking out," Andrew spits back. "And don't call me Andy."

Ashley rolls her eyes as she mutters under her breath, "Goes to show that you have been ogling at it like a weirdo."

"She's leaving. Go, now." Despite the little comment, she still obliges her brother and went after the boy you were dating. Andrew wasn't sure where you're going but the plan was once you return to your date, you'll be seeing a big surprise.

And surprise it was to see your dream boy talking to a girl, smiling and laughing and ending up kissing. Ashley notices your return. Thinking that this was enough sight for your sore eyes, she stuck her tongue out into the boy's mouth and pressed her boobs more into his chest.

Andrew admits he felt really bad for you but this is the only way to get you and make you understand that you don't need anyone else but him.

When the two parts themselves, you can see the boy's eyes filled with want before changing into guilt and fear once noticing you. And you really felt disgusted. You walked up to him and slapped your anger across his face.

"Oof, didn't know you had a girlfriend," Ashley says to act it out.

You heard your name being called by the boy after you left them and ran back home. In your room, miscalls and texts are lining up in your phone but you ignore all of them. There's no way you're going to let him explain what happened. There's no explanation to that evidence. The only person you want to calm you down is one tap away. But then, he would say "I told you so" because he was right and he claimed it. Gosh, you should've listened to him.

Your thumb hover over Andrew's contact but you hear a knock at your door. It must be one of your parents. You wipe your tears and suppress your anger.

"Yeah?" Before you could even tell them to come in or go away, the door opens and reveals Andrew instead. There goes the first person yet the last person you want to see. "Andrew?"

"I'm here." He walks in, closes the door behind him and engulfs you into an embrace. His warmth, his reassuring hug without saying anything, his presence; it all made you burst into tears once again.

"I should've listened to you," you sob into his shoulder, wetting his sweater. He's glad you couldn't see his face because he was smiling widely from his successful plan. He's sure, with this you'll be traumatized to find another man, traumatized that you might be disappointed again. And from here on, he'll have to make sure he'll always be there by your side whenever you need. Be it running errands for you, buying snacks that you can get yourself, or when you're lonely and sad, he'll be there for you to show that he's the only guy who would never betray, never cheat, and never make you run away.

All of these thoughts excite him that he didn't realize he kissed your head. Thankfully, you didn't push him away in disgust. That's the first step.

"I told you so."

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

12 Days of Christmas: 2024 Christmas Event

Day 1: Secret Santa

Pairing: The Chain & Reader

Warning(s): N/A

Notes: Staring off strong with some secret Santa shenanigans. Enjoy!

Main Masterlist | Event Masterlist | Next Day

In hindsight, introducing the idea of 'Secret Santa' while stuck in an alternate dimension with eight men might not have been the best choice on your very modern, very medievally-challenged part, because you were quite sure you hadn't been given a moment's peace since explaining the concept to the little assholes a day ago.

"Wild, buddy, my ride-or-die, I said no," you groaned as Wild's puppy eyes ratcheted up a level, practically glimmering in his skull. The Champion was unusually persistent in his quest to discover which of them would be the (lucky) recipient of whatever gift you could manage to scrounge up in this hellhole of a dimension. Not that the others hadn't tried; even you weren't daft enough to notice several of the little-er bastards sticking their grubby fingers into your stuff while the older bastards distracted you with similar mischief. You already accepted that complete privacy was a hard-pressed luxury in Hyrule, but this was getting ridiculous, even more so that Time, Twilight, Wars, and Sky–the responsible ones, you called them–were nowhere to be found.

"Just a hint?" Wild's eyes widened, and you could have sworn his pupils had all but swallowed the brilliant blue of his irises. It would have been adorable, but your patience was growing dangerously thin. The Cook leaned in close; like that would entice you to reconsider. "I won't tell."

"Uh huh," your arms crossed over your chest, and you scooted so far back that you nearly fell from the log you were sitting on. Damn him, and damn Hyrule and Legend, who had been watching the exchange with open intrigue.

"C'mon, I won't say a word," the Champion cajoled. He was basically on top of you, and you were torn between stomping to find Time, who wouldn't dare be this annoying, or surrendering to the laughter threatening to bubble from your chest. "Cross my heart-–

"Nope," you interrupted quickly when Wind's ears gremlin ears perked up from across the camp. He was too young, too beautiful, to be praying for death. Attempting to steer the conversation back to saner waters, you raised a brow. "For someone who's never played, you don't seem concerned with what to get your Secret Santa. Feeling lucky, Champ?"

"Absolutely," he said with the smoothness of Nutella over bread. Fuck, you wished Hyrule had that. The sun beat down over the camp, and you absentmindedly tugged on the collar of your tunic. "Plus, the bet–"

"Wild!" Hyrule hissed, ears pinking, and you nearly choked at the admission, horror lacing your expression.

"Wait, you're all betting on my Secret Santa?"

"Duh!" Wind joined the conversation with his usual amount of teenage sass, sauntering over to plop next to you on the log, a hair's breadth away from swinging those tangerine-covered legs over your lap. "I'm a pirate!"

"You're a child," you replied without missing a beat, sticking your tongue out at the young sailor. "And I'll be having a word with Time about letting you make bets."

Wind rolled his eyes, obviously recalling the time you'd caught him attempting to make off with one of Wild's bomb arrows after Legend dangled the promise of a two-week free trial with the fire rod upon completion. "Please, that was one time."

"Wind, I'm going to hold your hand when I tell you this–"

The sailor's resulting grimace was the stuff of legend. "Ew, cooties–"

"–but back in my age, you have to be eighteen to make bets with money," you paused to register his statement, brows furrowing. Cooties, really? In a world where Herpes existed? "Child, you're literally proving my point."

"Now sailor, ya know tha's dangerous," Twilight materialized behind you to comment, expression the picture of amusement, while you let yours reflect how unimpressed you were.

"Hey, Twi. How much did you toss in? Five rupees? Ten?" You raised a brow. "Twenty?"

A snort left the Rancher's mouth. He leaned down, meeting your gaze with the best shit-eating grin you'd seen outside of Wild. "Ya know 'm not a betting kind, darl'."

"Bullshit," you hissed, pushing his face away with your palm. "Thirty? Forty? You're flattering me here."

Twilight rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest, though he didn't look the least bit nonplussed. "Ya think 'm made of rupees, darlin'?"

"Absolutely not, you're just as broke as the rest of us," you chuckled, flicking your finger in his direction. The others joined in, and you caught Wind's body when he dissolved into giggles, collapsing against your shoulder, using your free hand to ruffle sandy-blonde locks. "Woah, man overboard!"

The camp laughed once more, and no more was said of anyone's Secret Santa. Until the next morning.

The sun was on the rise when you woke, stretching your arms and settling more solidly against the plush fabric of your bedroll, squished between Wind and Sky's respective sleeping positions. The Chosen Hero had an arm tossed haphazardly over your stomach, while the Sailor had somehow managed to meld himself to your shoulder, like you were the meat to the metaphorical sandwich. It was a comforting weight, and you would have stayed had your bladder not chosen that exact moment to express its displeasure with an urgent cramp. 

Grumbling to yourself, you extracted yourself from the pile, ignoring Sky's sleepy mumble when his arm flopped against your bedroll, though Wind quickly became his next target and you trudged away knowing everything was once more right in the world, silently slinking past the snoozing forms of Time and Twilight to the forest. 

A thin breeze swept through the trees as you weaved between them, rustling the thick, sun-dappled canopy. Once satisfied that you wouldn't be walked in on by an overactive hero with your pants down, you did your business and returned to camp, sighing at the relieved pressure in your abdomen. 

Now, let it never be said that you enjoyed being a tease, but watching the chain scramble to discover just what you were planning for 'secret santa' was more than entertaining; from the moment you dropped the small slips of paper in Legend's shed hat to be drawn to the last time you had caught Wild and Four peering into your traveling pack. Even Time and Warriors, who were arguably the most mature of the bunch, were only slightly more discrete in discovering just what you had planned for the recipient of your gift, though you suspected it was partly because Time had years of experience in this sort of fuckery and Warriors' time as a captain had taught him to be especially thorough when conducting searches. 

Still, there was no hidden joy in their faces when Wild would pester you about the subject, so you knew they hadn't discovered it yet. You also knew that they weren't curious enough to search your clothes pockets, where the thin slip of paper proclaiming your charge lay. 

As expected, the camp was mostly deserted by the time you managed to saunter your half-awake ass back into it. Four, Hyrule, and Legend lay in a heap of limbs that had you wincing, while Wind was playing the dutiful teddybear for Sky's more cuddly provocalities. Time and Warriors had found each other in Twilight's absence, the Rancher having left their company in favor of rolling up his bedroll, ears perking up when you approached. 

"Hey, darl'," the hero greeted, tightening the straps containing the bedroll in a tight coil. "Sleep well?"

"You bet," you answered, plopping down beside him. You sat cross-legged, elbows perched on upwards curve of your thighs. "And you?"

"'S well as any other night," the Rancher answered, running a hand through his sleep-tosseled hair. You debated grabbing your comb to help him out, but ultimately held back; best not to steal Warriors' only pleasure in life. "What's got ya up so early? Ah know we're doin' that secret... remind me th' name 'o that 'gain?"

"Santa," you corrected. 

"Tha's the one! Anyways, ah know we're doin' tha' thing tah-day, but ya don't gotta wake up early, 'e'll love whatever ya get 'em."

You grinned at his attempt to reassure you, using one of your hands to lay a gentle clap on the blade of his shoulder. "I appreciate it, Twi, but that's not why I'm up."

"Oh?" 

"Actually, I was wondering if you've seen Wolfie lately?" you asked, purposefully keeping the question vague. If there was anyone who knew where the elusive wolf was, it was his unofficial bestie, Twilight. 

"Wolfie, eh?" the Rancher hummed, putting a finger to his chin. "'M sure I could track 'im down for ya. May ah ask why?"

You shrugged. "I just miss him. Plus, you wouldn't want him to miss his first Secret Santa, right?"

Abruptly, Twilight sat up a bit straighter, as if caught off guard. His ears twitched. "Hol' up. Yer including 'im in this?"

"Um, yes?" You leveled the Rancher with a puzzled look. However you looked at it, Wolfie was an integral part of the team, and deserved to be treated as such, which is why you felt no shame in adding a slip of paper with his name on it into the hat when no one was looking. The furry sweetheart was already known for bringing back things, so whoever drew his name wouldn't be missing out. "He's one of us, Twi. It wouldn't be fair to not include him."

"Not include who?" A new voice cut in, and you shot a lazy wave to Warriors, who was in the process of worming his way from the cocoon that was his bedroll. "Please tell me we're talking about Legend, no one'll tell me who got him."

"First of all, rude, and second of all, no," you stuck your tongue out at the Captain, who had managed to maneuver himself next to you and Twilight, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "I was asking Twi about Wolfie, it's been a bit since we've seen him."

"Hm," said Warriors, looking marginally less invested at the realization that you weren't discussing his mortal enemy in sass and sarcasm alike. He ran a hand through his hair and you were instantly jealous of how easily his fingers slipped through the almost golden strands. "Now that I think about it... have you tried the forest?"

"A bit," you admitted, glancing around the surrounding area. It was empty, but you still looked. "He usually comes to us, but with all the portal-hopping we've been doing..."

"Ain't no reason ta worry," Twilight clapped your shoulder as he stood, rolling his shoulders. "He looked back and shot you a dazzling smile. "Ah'll find 'im, dont'cha worry."

With that, he disappeared into the thick forest.

It was time.

You arranged for everyone to sit in a circle, noting that they all seemed to be clutching some sort of item. You were no exception, cradling a thin bundle of fabric to your chest; you hadn't quite known what to get your Secret Santa, but you hoped it would be well-received regardless.

"Is everyone ready?" Time asked, though the look he threw you suggested that he was only taking charge to quell the excited jittering before the heroes descended upon one another in a frenzy.

There was a chorus of agreement, and you sat taller. Twilight had returned a bit ago, claiming that Wolfie was 'nowhere to be found', and while you were skeptical–and frankly a bit worried–you let it go, ushering him to sit with a large smile. Even so, you couldn't keep them waiting, which is why you cleared your throat. "Perfect! You may begin."

There was a clatter as Wild practically launched himself at Wind, proudly displaying what could only be a smaller version of Twilight's hookshot. The craftsmanship was clear, and your heart melted when the Sailor's mouth dropped, eyes nearly popping out of his skull.

"This is awesome!" exclaimed the youngest hero, running a hand over the gleaming surface. "I've never– thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"You're welcome," Wild scratched the back of his neck, obviously pleased. "I'm glad you like it."

The Champion's gift-giving was quickly followed by Four, who presented Hyrule with a new sword that shone brighter than water, the hilt decorated with small green gemstones; then Time, who commissioned a new pair of boots for Warriors. Legend was next, handing Wind

The Champion's gift-giving was quickly followed by Four, who presented Hyrule with a new sword that shone brighter than water, the hilt decorated with small green gemstones; then Time, who commissioned a new pair of boots for Warriors. Legend was next, producing a large sack full of metallic fragments that gleamed in the pale light and handing it to the resident smith, who looked a bit teary-eyed at the offering, and Warriors took no prisoners in gifting Twilight a loop of metal-reinforced rope, already tied in a short lasso at the end. You felt a tap on your shoulder, and Wind was behind you, holding something behind his back. 

"This is for you!" The sailor proclaimed, practically shaking with excitement as he shoved a mass of blue-green fabric into your arms. "I wasn't sure what to get you at first, but I saw this in Time's Hyrule and it looked perfect!"

You grinned at the admission, unraveling the fabric to reveal a stunning cape. It was long and smooth, with the Hylian Crest emblazed on the back in brilliant white stitching. "Wind, I love it," you pulled the Sailor into a hug, mindful of the wrapped bundle still held against your chest. "It's everything I've ever wanted."

Wind's eyes bugged out, and you could practically see the stars glimmering in his sea-swept irises. "Really?!"

"Of course," you giggled, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of his head. You shook the fabric out, then wrapped it around your shoulders, marveling at the way it fluttered around your ankles, lighter than silk. "Thank you, Sailor."

Wind's cheeks pinked, and he sputtered something but accepted your affections with a beaming smile. Until he perked up, noticing the bundle of fabric in your arms. "Wait, you haven't given your gift yet?"

You shook your head, feeling a bit sad despite the blatant cheer going around--Sky definitely deserved those new strings for his harp and Time was completely valid for grinning upon receiving new gauntlets from Twilight. "Ah, yeah-- It is."

"Then give it!"

A chuckle escaped you at Wind's insistence. You patted the Sailor's head. "I wish, buddy. He's not here yet."

Wind's brows furrowed as he scanned the group, expression becoming quizzical when he found that everyone was present. "But we're all here?"

"Not necessarily," you huffed, just as the others seemed to take note of the gift still in your arms.

Wild was the first to speak, brushing his bangs from his face with one hand while the other held the carved ladle set Sky had gifted him. "Wait, is that your gift? Who's it for?"

You scratched the back of your neck, knowing that the wait was up. "Uh... It's for Wolfie, but he's not here," you cast a cursory glance across the camp in case the furry baby was lurking somewhere among the bedrolls, but he was nowhere to be seen. "so I'm just hanging on to it until he shows up."

Silence, then Legend grumbled, pulling a sack of rupees from his pocket and chucking them at Twilight with a glare that could have killed a weaker man. "You fucking cheat, Rancher."

Right. They had made bets on this.

"Seriously, guys?" You asked incredulously as Wild and Hyrule forked over their own sacks to the Rancher, who looked curiously shocked. Didn't he say he hadn't participated? "Oh my H– how did you know!?"

"Ah didn't," responded Twilight, holding his spoils with a bewildered expression. Silently, Sky added a sack to the growing pile in the Rancher's arms. Time looked distinctly disappointed, but that could have just been his face. "Ah was jus' jokin'–"

"Joking or not, you fooled us," Legend huffed like the sore loser he was. "Man, I was sure it was Warriors."

"Me? Why?" The Captain raised a brow, his query flanked by your very baffled: "Him? Why?"

The Veteran scoffed, and you knew this was about to get good. Until he opened his mouth and you were instantly reminded of how much of a little shit Legend was. "Because you've been sneaking around him like a rat. I thought it was obvious."

You blinked. "A rat?!"

"OKay," Warriors interrupted before things could get ugly. "I'm sure there's some way we can get it to him. Speaking of," he glanced at your face, then the bundle, then back to your face. "What did you get Wolfie?"

Grinning, you unveiled the gift, revealing a long, thick bone. It was approximately the length of your forearm; lightly browned from the gentle steaming it had received a few days prior to enhance flavor.

"Woah," breathed Wild in reverence, and you were glad at least someone recognized the effort. Tracking down the best butcher in Hyrule while simultaneously being tailed by at least two heroes at any given moment was no easy feat, but you had done it, and, by god, were you proud. "I'm almost jealous."

"Well, now ah know 'e'll love it," Twilight said, looking equally impressed. "If ya give it ta me, I'll make sure 'e gets it, darl'."

"Are you sure? I can hang on to it–"

But the Rancher was already taking the bone from your grasp, and, really, was it the worst thing when, the very next morning, a very satisfied Wolfie rolled into camp, practically dropping into your lap like a fly, with your gift in his jaws?

I might rewrite this idea into another one of my fics, but enjoy this (very late) standalone for now! I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas (if you celebrate)!!

[scarletwinterxx]

your beginning and middle and end - mark lee imagine

hello🥺 sooo this one is a bit longer than my usual posts. think of it as a valentine special. i loved writing this one, i hope you like it too🤍

if you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

FEBRUARY 09, 10AM

"That's the fourth date you declined, girl valentines is around the corner" Yun-jin tells you the moment the other guy walked away

"Genuine question, do I need a guy to celebrate it or do I even need to celebrate it?"

"If Valentines has a version of the grinch it would be you"

You laugh at her statement, reading over the small note that was given to you along with a single rose. It was cute, you appreciate the thought but you really didn't want to go out with the dude. You'd rather let them down now than pretend to have fun during a date.

"It's just not my thing" you tell her

"Then what's your thing? Tell me and I will personally look for him"

Looks like luck is on your side because you spot the big clock behind her, your next class about to start.

"Once I know, I'll tell you. I'm gonna be late. Bye" you gather your stuff and rushed out the hall, you can hear her protests making you laugh on your way out.

When you got to your next class, the other students are just arriving. A lot of vacant seats, you choose the one in the middle. You get your notes and laptop out to skim over your notes from the last session.

"Another one?" you hear someone say from behind you making you look up

"Yep, want to read it?" you chuckle, passing the rose over to Mark.

Mark Lee, the boy you sit next to class with. You see him enough around campus to get acquainted. He's friendly, known by many, a poet by heart. And he's also well aware of the failed confessions to you.

The first time you brought a flower to class he didn't say anything, the second time he thought it was from the same person but then the third time it happened right in front of him. He witnessed how you gently turned down the poor lad who was asking you out after handing you a rose.

Mark takes his usual seat beside you before reading the note

"You and Me, on v? huh like Valentines?" he laughs, holding the little card in his hand

"I'd give it a 4 out of 10"

"Ouch, so the lowest one then. I'd say my favorite is still the one about cats" he tells you, passing the rose back to you

Do you like cats? Because I’d like you to take meowt

You remember that one too. You thought it was cringey, but Mark smiled when he read it. You even let him keep the card.

"Do you still have it?" you ask "The card? Oh yea, I drew like little cats all over it. I'm sure it's somewhere in my bag"

"Why? Planning to use it on someone?"

"Yeah right, I think I'd have a bit more game than that" he jokes

"Ha, we'll see about that" you snorted. Missing the way Mark is looking at you with small grin on his face. Trying to be as inconspicuous as he could be.

The two of you might be on good terms but he wouldn't put it past you to reject him too. Since he got to know you, one thing he learned about you is that you're always so sure of yourself. To you, no is a full sentence. You like what you like and say no to what you don't. You're unapologetically you and he likes that.

He's not sure yet whether he likes you or likes you.

"Earth to Mark?" you wave your hand in front of his face, making him break out of his thoughts

"Lost you there, where'd you go" you joke

"Was just thinking about this paper I have due on Tuesday" he says, it's not a total lie. He does have a paper he needs to finish before Valentines day.

"Need help? I have a few works to catch up on too"

"You don't have plans?" he asks, it's like asking if you have a date on Valentines without asking if you have a date on Valentines day.

"Not really no, and if I'm being honest I heard this guy planning to ask about dinner and I'd rather not..."

"Am I... the getaway car?" You chuckle at his question

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but if I could avoid it I would. So library or the cafe near campus?"

He looks at you like he's weighing his options, playfully hitting him on the arm making the guy laugh "Cafe it is, I'll see you there?" he says

"It's a date" you grin at him

FEBRUARY 12, 11AM

"It's not"

"You said she said it was" Jungwoo says, looking at Mark who is currently trying to find something to wear. After that little moment with you, Mark made sure to clear up his schedule for that day. Ofcourse Jungwoo being the nosy bestfriend didn't let it pass without making Mark tell the whole story.

"Also if this wasn't a date, why are you freaking out about what to wear? You're just going to study, are you going to study her?"

Mark throws the hoodie at Jungwoo's face before looking through his closet again, "Maybe it was just a slip of tongue. It's Y/N, she rejects everyone who asks her out" Mark says while his head is buried deep in his closet

Jungwoo rolls his eyes at his bestfriend, Mark swears he doesn't like you like that and yet here he is. He only met you a couple of time, Mark introduced you before when he went to give Mark a book he forgot to bring.

"I can think of something else you want her tongue to slip in" he mumbles, "Shut up, don't talk about her like that" Mark stands up straight, looking at the other guy. Jungwoo holds his hands up, "Sorry"

Mark gives him another glare before getting a hoodie inside his closet, "Whatever, I'll just wear this. Should I bring an extra one just in case?"

"Just in case what? You spill something?" Jungwoo jokes

In case she gets cold, Mark thinks to himself.

"Just cause" Mark grumbles, walking back to his closet to get another hoodie then stuffing it inside his backpack.

"You're going to be late, go have fun at your not a date date"

About an hour after that, Mark is waiting for you at the cafe. He got there first and sent you a quick text. After a few minutes, the door chimed making Mark look up.

And that's when you walk in, a bouquet of blue tulips in your grasp. You look around, quickly spotting Mark. You make your way towards him, Mark stands up to pull the chair out for you. Saying a quick thank you then you set your stuff down.

"Sorry I'm late"

"Nah, I'm just early" he tells you, "You uh the guy caught you?" he jokes, pointing at flowers

"Oh these? No, I got them actually like I bought it this morning. Yun-jin forgot to buy milk so I had to go out this morning then I saw these. Here" then you're handing the flowers over to him

When you notice the confused look on his face, you giggle. This made Mark look more confused at what's happening, "What? No one ever gave you flowers?" you joke

"No, it's suppose to be the other way 'round?" he asks but accepts it nonetheless

You shrug, getting your stuff out

"I don't like flowers, main reason why I always say no to those dudes. I appreciate the effort, I do but it's not my style. But I remember you said these are your favorite during our class introductions, so I got them for you" you smile at him, he smiles back.

"Thanks, no like really thank you" he says, this made you chuckle finding the situation cute.

"Okay, back to business. I do have like three agendas to finish today" you tell him, gesturing at the small stack of papers on the table

"I'll buy you a chocolate cupcake if you finish it all" he offers, your face lighting up at the mention of the sweet treat. Mark also remembers something about you during that class intro.

Actually he remembers everything about you and that day. The professor asked everyone to say their name along with two random facts about themselves.

"Hi everyone my name is Y/N, I love chocolate cupcakes and I can recite the graduation speech from Twilight"

That earned a few laughs from the class, and from him. You really did leave an impression on him. As days, weeks and months passed by the two of you got acquainted.

If someone asks (mainly Jungwoo) Mark when was the exact moment he felt different about you, he can't pinpoint the exact moment. It just sort of happened for him. Maybe from all the small gestures you unknowingly do, or how it's easy to talk to you. You just get him.

"Can you make it two?" tilting your head to the side for effect, making Mark laugh and nod his head "You got it"

A few hours later, and a few cups of coffee the two of you finally finish. Mark actually finished his paper an hour ago but you weren't done with the last module you had to do,

"Are you done? Am I making you wait?" you ask, noticing he stopped doing anything and was just looking at you

"Huh? Oh uh yea, but don't worry about it. I can wait" he tells you with a smile

"You sure? I'm almost done"

"Don't rush it, I'll still buy you the cupcakes" he tells you, you shoot him a smile before going back to work. Meanwhile Mark goes to the front of the store to get you your cupcakes.

You didn't even notice he stood up, focusing on saving the file before sending the final file to your professor.

"And done! Mark?" you look up only to find the seat infront of you empty. You spot him over the counter, choosing to wait and tidy your things in the mean time.

"Hey, you done?" he asks when he got back to your table

"Mhm, finally. Sorry for taking up your whole afternoon"

"No worries, I finished my work too and I enjoyed your company. And as promised, here's your cupcakes" Mark then opens the box, he might as well presented you with a pot of gold with the way you're grinning from ear to ear. Your joy radiating, making him smile too.

"For me?" you asked, he nods his head

"These are the chocolate ones, I got two. The others are their best sellers, then this one I just thought you might like" he points at the cupcake with heart sprinkles on it.

You laugh, getting the box from him "Okay fine, I believe you. You definitely how to make a girl say yes"

He shakes his head, suddenly feeling shy "Believe me I'm not an expert when it comes to girls" he mumbles

"No, but you got this type of vibe about you you know" you tell him, getting one cupcake from the box

"What vibe?"

"You know like someone could've been in love with you for ten years without you knowing, a classic case of unrequited love but not in a mean way you just don't really know. It's the way you see the world, it's always nice, forgiving, full of chances. You see meaning even in little things. You got this boyish charm about you, the kind that girls would pick over their fictional boyfriends. You're better than any guy written by anyone" you tell him not noticing the way he's just staring at you

"I follow you on your socials, it's cute when you take pictures of the moon or the sky. Makes me remember to take a breath and be in the moment every once in a while"

He don't say anything, still processing what you said. He has never heard himself be described that way, atleast not to his face but he doubts anyone can be as eloquent as you.

"Can I ask you something?" he finally finds his voice, you nod at him

"Why do you say no to all the boys who ask you out? besides the cringey one liners and flowers"

You chuckle, "Because I know me. All of them would've just ended one way or another. I know what I want, what I like. I like a guy I can have an actual conversation with from philosophical point of views to something so random. Someone that makes it feel easy to talk and listen to"

"Do you know how hard it is to control my expression when I'm in public? Yun-jin said my face is too judgy" you jokingly add "I'm an open book if you know how to read it exactly, if that makes sense"

"No, I totally get it. You're not complicated or hard to get, they just don't know how to. You deserve more effort than that" he tells you

"See, that's what I'm talking about. If you keep on doing that I'm gonna be the one asking you out" you tease him, the guy across you laughing. Trying to hide his blushing cheeks and fluttering heart.

The two of you talked some more before he offered to walk you home. It's almost sunset when Mark got back to his place,

"And he's back, how was the date?" Jungwoo shouts from somewhere inside. Mark spots him lounging on the couch, taking a seat beside him with the bouquet of flowers on his lap

"You got rejected too?" Jungwoo asks and Mark just shakes head

"Did you forget to give it? Got too shy? I'm pretty sure you're suppose to give it to the girl not take it back home"

"I didn't get it, I mean I got it but I got it from her. She bought me these" Mark clarifies, taking the bouquet to look at it again,

Jungwoo looks back and forth between Mark and the flowers, "Let me get this straight, the girl whose notorious for turning down guys who gives her flowers gave you flowers on your not a date date?"

Mark just stares back at his bestfriend because honestly it doesn't make sense to him too.

"Homegirl got more game than you" Jungwoo says with a chuckle

"She said she remembered I said these were my favorite. I mentioned it once during freshmen orientation week and she remembered"

"Oh my god, he's in love" Jungwoo laughs

"And you know, I gave her cupcakes and she got so happy I actually thought about signing up for baking classes" Mark grumbles, setting the flowers on the coffee table before taking a thrown pillow to bury his face in.

Jungwoo watches his bestfriend realized what he's known for a while now. Mark likes you. He just never said it. It's Mark. He thinks everyone is nice, most time he overlooks the nice gestures of other girls to him thinking it's normal when in reality they were trying to get his attention.

"Oh. This must be serious then. You don't even know how to cook"

"Yeah I know! Like I know I like her, I didn't know I like her." it felt surreal finally admitting it out loud.

"So you do like her? like like her"

"I think?"

"It's a yes or no"

"No, I don't"

"You got him flowers"

Meanwhile back at your dorm, Yun-jin is also interrogating you. You just finished giving her a recap of your day, she was half listening half watching her show when you suddenly mentioned you got flowers for Mark

"Just because I got him flowers don't mean I like him, I just remembered it was his favorite" you shrug, trying to not make a big deal out of it.

"What's my favorite flower?" she asks, you blink back at her coming up with a blank answer

"See! Oh my gosh, my baby girl is growing up" she dramatically hugs you

"Was that weird? That I gave him flowers?"

"No, it's the 21st century. Guys can get flowers too"

"He got me cupcakes too" you mumble, looking at the box on the table.

Yun-jin watches you, smiling to herself. She's with you twenty four seven and she's never seen you like this. There are a few times she's seen you on campus with Mark, you always smile whenever he's around. Choosing not to push further, she gives the topic a rest and changing it to something else

"So what are you doing for valentines? because if you're free I know this dude who's free also-" "Actually Mark and I are hanging out again" you cut her off

"You're spending valentines with Mark?"

"Yea, so uhm actually I'm gonna call it a night. I have classes in the morning, we're meeting again around lunch. Night" then you're making a beeline towards your bedroom.

FEBRUARY 14, 10AM

Come Valentines day. Yun-jin thinks you're out with Mark while the boy is completely unaware he's being mentioned.

Choosing a place you know Yun-jin won't find you, you stayed at the farthest lounge area after class. Most students won't even walk all the way here since it's a long way going back and forth.

Finding a spot to sit on, you spot someone sitting alone on one the benches

"Mark?"

The boy looks up, immediately smiling when he sees it's you

"Hey, you. What are you doing here?" he asks, getting his stuff from the seat beside him to make room for you. Putting your stuff on the table before taking the seat beside him

"I just finished for the day, and currently hiding from Yun-jin"

He chuckles, "Why?"

"She's trying to set me up with a blind date so I pretended I had plans" leaving out the part he was mentioned

"You don't have plans?" he asks, giving himself a pat on the back for not sounding too nervous

You shake your head, "I have something to say though, I might have told her I had plans... with you"

Mark just looks at you, feeling shy under his gaze you look away.

"With me?"

"Yea, sorry. You don't have to stay though if you have plans don't worry about it. Go enjoy your valentines day" you told him a bit too energetic than you intended.

Then he smiles, Mark smiles at you like he's keeping a secret he can't wait to tell.

"What?"

"I don't have plans, I was going to ask if you had plans yesterday but I didn't want to overstep"

"What do you mean? You're just asking" you smile back at him, "Did you think I was going to say no like always? Oh my gosh I swear I'm not as heartless. I wasn't-"

"No no no, of course I didn't think that. I mean I don't think you're heartless" he pauses to collect his thought because right now words are flying out faster than he can think of them.

And if he got one chance at this, he'll make sure to do it right the first time.

Then you start speaking again, surprising Mark once again with your words

"Yun-jin said I smile a lot when I'm with you, now that I think about it I think I do. It's just you're easy to be with, and I feel relaxed like I can talk to you about anything and you listen. It's also so fun to listen to your stories, especially when you get this animated look on your face. And when you laugh before you can even say the joke. Am I rambling, sorry I'm rambling"

He takes your hand, holding it in his. Testing the waters to see how you'll react. When you don't pull away, he gets a card out from his notebook. Then he hands it over to you,

Today we are obliged to be romantic And think of yet another Valentine. We know the rules, and we are both pedantic. Today’s the day we have to be romantic. Our love is old and sure, not new and frantic. You know I’m yours, and I know you are mine. And saying that has made me feel romantic, My dearest love, my darling valentine.

You read the note carefully, a smile slowly forming on your face while Mark watches you. When the thinks you finish it, he speaks up

"I read that, and I thought about you. You're worth more than a one liner, more than a single flower. You deserve poems to be written about you, gardens to walk through with the prettiest flowers"

You playfully hit him, reading the card again before putting it in your bag for safe keeping

"I love it, thank you. Now I feel bad I got you nothing"

"It's okay, I didn't even know I was going to give it to you. I was ready to just hide it in my bag for the rest of time" he admits

"Why? It's so nice though"

"Yea but I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable"

"I appreciate it really. Out of all the notes I received, I'll keep this one"

At that he smiles.

Like how the story began, with one liner notes and a single flower, who knew you'd find a friend and now something more. Mark is someone you didn't expect you'd have something romantic with especially since you're not really looking for it but it makes sense that you'd end up with him. He makes your days brighter, it's like he bring everything that is good into your world.

When you said he's the kind of guy who beats every fictional character, it's true because he gave you something better than a fairytale; a reality worth living in.

And yes spoiler, you do end up with him. The story ends with you and him. Spending all of your valentines together.

end.

[milkymolle]

i'm at the point where i'm writing transformers fanfiction. it's dratchet and it's very self indulgent sci fi headcanons. so if you're interested here's the link, and the whole fic is under the read more!

Some patients like to watch Ratchet's hands while he works, curious how he'll fix them up. Sometimes they just glance about the room, quiet or making idle conversation. Ratchet's gotten used to that stuff; he can chat while he works, or not, either way he's wholly focused on the task. But apparently there is something that can distract him--if his patient is silently boring a hole in his head with their staring.

"Can I help you?" Ratchet grumbles. He's already pretty pissed at Drift's general lack of self preservation, manifesting very obviously in the many repair jobs he's neglected on himself. He saw Drift's limp and demanded he sit down to look at it. Having Drift try to melt Ratchet's face with his bright yellow eyes doesn't improve his mood.

"Sorry," Drift replies. Ratchet can see a smile twitch onto his face from his periphery. "I'm looking at your aura."

Ratchet pulls back to make an aggrieved noise. "Great." He leans back over to finish soldering the wires in Drift's knee, in order to keep his own mouth shut.

"I'm serious!" says Drift, though he has laughter in his voice. "You have a really lovely aura. I think it comes across to your patients, even if they don't realize it."

"Uh-huh," Ratchet says, to keep himself from saying something mean. He came all this way, so he ought to at least try to be nice to Drift. "What's it look like?"

Drift's quiet for a moment, still scrutinizing with those damn eyes, like he has to really consider it. "Well, there are layers to auras, but I don't wanna make your head explode. Basically, you always have earthy tones surrounding you, but when you work on someone, pinks and blues come out. Energon and spark colors." Ratchet glances up to see the smile on Drift's face. "You're a healer to your very core."

Drift often says disarming things like this to rile Ratchet up, and what's worse is that he usually truly means what he says. So the statement that Ratchet is a natural doctor is not affecting really, it's something he's heard many times before, but when Drift says it in his way and he smiles so genuinely, it does get to Ratchet. Annoyingly.

Trying to save face, he replies, "Yeah, 'cause Primus made me that way."

"That's what I've been saying!"

Ratchet scoffs and Drift snickers.

They get into trouble again soon, and as much as Ratchet would like to blame Drift as a magnet for these things, he's at least self-aware enough to know he's no better. He only wishes less Decepticons had decided to continue evil-doing in damn near every corner of the galaxy.

The rig they are currently trying to flee is stupidly labyrinthine, and the blaring alarms don't help Ratchet's focus. He shoots out another security camera and shouts, "Are you sure we aren't going in circles?"

"Let me think," Drift shouts back. He's just standing there--granted, with his swords drawn--scrutinizing further down the hallway. Ratchet can't see anything identifying where they are, where they're going. It's all dark gunmetal walls and floors and ceilings.

Ratchet darts his eyes around, checking their six. A door to the left slides open, and as soon as the con's head pokes through Ratchet blasts a hole through it. (Once again, he feels a sick gratitude towards Pharma's hands.)

They'll be more soon. "Drift--"

"This way." He's running off, and Ratchet has to scramble after him. They take a series of purposeful turns, like Drift's been possessed and Ratchet has no better ideas than to follow him. Drift punches open a heavy door, revealing a room with two cons. Drift doesn't hesitate lopping the head off one, so Ratchet guns down the other. Only after they're dead does Ratchet realize they are somehow in the escape pod housing.

"How did you know where this was?" Ratchet asks as Drift wrenches one open.

"You wouldn't believe me," he gruffs, and grabs Ratchet's collar to chuck him inside. He only stumbles a little.

"Were you seriously just guessing?" Ratchet shouts as he finds the controls and frantically works them out.

"I sensed it." The ignition kicks, and they're shooting out from the Decepticon ship. Ratchet opens his mouth and Drift continues, "We'll argue about it later, if we don't get shot out of the sky."

Some part of Ratchet is still loath to agree with Drift, especially right now when he feels morally obligated to argue against the ability to "sense" some escape pods, but he really doesn't want to get blown up so he grits his teeth and gets them the hell away from that stupid rig.

Drift's pretty quiet back on their ship. Apparently the promise to continue the argument was empty. Ratchet's not sure if it's a PTSD thing he's going through, being back on a Decepticon ship, or maybe the fact that news of their last location will get to the DJD sooner rather than later. He doesn't have the nerve to ask, just to watch Drift sitting against the wall with his greatsword laid out in his lap.

Ratchet does sit next to him, though. "Y'know," he says, "I was thinking about it back on the con's ship, and I realized I don't think I ever thanked you for it. For Pharma's hands."

Drift looks at him somewhat bewildered, like he'd never considered it himself. "You don't need to thank me for that. But you're welcome."

They sit quietly for a bit. Ratchet maps out all the rivets on the wall across from them. Then Drift says, "They're not his hands anymore, you know. They're yours."

Ratchet smiles a bit grimly. "Yeah. Though honestly, it doesn't feel great. Carrying around a dead person's hands. An old friend's, even." He holds his hand out to look at it, the miniscule differences in Pharma's fingers and wrist from Ratchet's old ones, the ones he had for millions of years. "It doesn't feel great using them, knowing what they did before."

Drift catches Ratchet's hand from the air. He holds it firm while being careful, like it was a precious thing. Ratchet blinks at him.

Drift stares back with intent. "They're yours," he insists. "Because I gave them to you."

Ratchet's not quite sure what he means--though maybe some part of him does, some implicit understanding, but he can't think about that right now. He sees how serious Drift is, so he concedes, "Alright."

After he's sure, Drift lets go.

They spend a lot of time getting far away from that quadrant of space. They also don't head back to the Lost Light, to avoid bringing trouble with them. This little shuttle is so much quieter, just the hum of a space vessel and occasionally a strange creaking. He leaves Drift alone for a bit, or perhaps he wants to be alone himself. He reads, like he usually does when he's not working, and he finds some texts about Spectralism and energy reading that make him pretty angry but he tries to read it anyway. It makes some attempt to connect with reality, citing properties of light and electromagnetism that aren't incorrect, though it always circles back to the soul and to God. It makes it difficult for Ratchet to not mentally construct an argument against religious doctrine that was written many years ago.

There's a knock at the door and Ratchet hides the article away like he's been caught. "Yeah?"

The door slides open, and Drift peers up at Ratchet like he wished he could stay hidden behind it. "Hey. You busy?"

Ratchet laughs a bit; he's currently lounging on his berth. "Nope."

"You bored?"

"I think it's pretty hard not to be."

Drift walks in like that was permission. "If we're going to be stuck in a crappy little shuttle for the next 78 hours, we should probably find something to do."

Ratchet feels very self-conscious on his berth suddenly, and he wishes this conversation wasn't happening in his little room. He meant it when he said to himself he didn't have time to think about this. He lurches to sit at the side of the berth, trying for some scrap of respectability. "Like what?"

Drift stands in front of him with his impeccable posture, looking strong for someone covered in dents and scratches. "Could I teach you some hand?"

For some reason this surprises Ratchet, though it is a pretty good idea. Drift rushes on before Ratchet can reply: "There are situations where it could be useful. It's the only way of communicating possible without being able to hear, speak, or see. I mean, I don't know exactly what would happen to leave us like that, but--it just seems like a good backup."

"Yeah, it does." Ratchet gives a little smile, and Drift smiles back, relieved and beaming. Then he hops up onto the berth, sitting cross-legged next from Ratchet. He holds his hands up expectantly.

"Right now?"

"Were you not just saying how impossibly bored you are?"

Ratchet huffs and moves to mirror Drift, sitting across from him and raising his hands. His hands, the ones Drift gave him. Drift takes them by just barely lacing their fingertips together; Drift's hands are slightly bigger, scuffed, but they feel clever in Ratchet's own. His touch is not firm like it was before, it's something shy but eager. Ratchet briefly squeezes them.

Drift's still smiling. The lesson he gives then is precise and confident, like he'd planned it all out beforehand. Ratchet privately enjoys the thought.

There's a lively port they deem far enough away that they decide to dock at. It's good-sized moon with an atmosphere that supports organic life, and Drift assures Ratchet that the DJD avoid organic space as much as possible. (Apparently, the pleasure they take in murdering non-mechanical life is outweighed by their pure disgust.)

They stock up the shuttle and take a moment to sit on a bench to rest, and to enjoy the life around them. It reminds him of the Lost Light in a way, feeling like a very small piece in a large, loud world. It's something of a comfort.

Drift is rather impassive when Ratchet takes peeks at him. He briefly, mortifyingly, wishes he could sees people's emotions the way Drift claims to. It's such an absurd and sudden thought that he can't help but linger on it.

"Hey." Ratchet points out someone in the crowd. "Can you see their aura?"

Drift gives him an absolutely disbelieving look. "What, is this a joke?"

"No, seriously, I wanna know."

Drift still scowls at him, but he does turn to look at the person Ratchet pointed out. Then he gets that focused look. "Hm. They're getting old. They give off deep colors, like someone who carries a lot with them."

"What kinds of colors?"

Drift tilts his head. "Deep, purply colors. It's harder to define than just the color wheel."

Ratchet stares at the person, a wide mechanical that puffs out steam from their vents every half minute or so. He can't see anything other than the off-white of the smoke.

An organic person walks up on two pairs of legs to speak with the mech. Ratchet jerks his head. "What about them?"

"It's harder for me to read organics, I'm not as used to it." He studies them. "Hmm, they're warmer, sort of green? They remind me a bit of you."

Ratchet huffs. "I thought I was pink and blue or whatever."

"You are, sometimes. Auras change constantly. But something about them...it reminds me of you when--we first met."

Ratchet watches the organic quietly. Drift thinks about that time a lot; he's admitted as much. Most of them probably think of the days before the war, for many different reasons. Ratchet spent a lot of his life thinking of it, thinking of what could be different, of what he should've done. Like there's some way he could've saved more lives. Eventually he'd learned that it was a useless endeavor, trying to calculate the right decisions for things that were long dead. He tries to let go of his regrets now.

He thinks of the day he met Drift a lot, too. There was a time where he'd thought of what would happen if Drift had died; how many Autobots would still be alive? He'd operated on soldiers that had been shot by Deadlock, or he tried to. But like he'd realized, it's a useless type of math. He doesn't regret saving anyone's life, not a single person.

He's been staring at that couple for a long time, and when they finally notice him he glances down to his feet. "Guess I was greener back then," he says.

Somehow he can feel Drift rolling his eyes. "Uh huh. So are you asking this to make fun of me or what?"

"No, I'm just curious. I'd like to know how it works for you."

Ratchet turns to see Drift making yet another face at him. "Did something happen back on the Lost Light that made you less of an ass?"

Ratchet flicks at his finial.

The only windows on the shuttle are in the cockpit, and occasionally Ratchet would sit in there just to observe the space outside. He'd honestly seen enough of space at this point in his life, mostly flat black dotted with pinpricks. Though sometimes they pass a nebula, or sail over the ring of some planet, and those are things Ratchet can still appreciate.

Drift spends a lot of time in the cockpit. He seems to just stare out at unmoving stars with intent focus; it may be his way of meditating, though his eyes are searching. A lot of Cybertronians are drawn to the stars, and it doesn't surprise Ratchet that Drift is one of them.

"Are you one of those people that think stars are alive?" Ratchet asks him, startling Drift from his reverie.

"Aren't they?" he asks.

Ratchet sighs. "Well, a lot of people argue that they meet the qualifications of being 'alive.' There's a lot of things you could argue are alive, if you broaden the definition enough--they're similar enough to sparks. I guess I meant if you think of them as...people."

"Ah." Drift turns back to the window. The cockpit is dim except for a green light emitted by the HUD. "They're alive, but I'm not sure they're 'people.' They don't have the aura of something sentient. I know some people think they're the souls of the departed, sparks reformed far off. I think there's merit to thinking that our sparks are reformed somehow--when they fade, it's just the energy scattering, and it could go any number of places, become anything really. But...the soul isn't something material, something you can see. It's held in our spark, and when the spark dissapates, it's freed."

Ratchet's quiet, and Drift glances at him with something like discomfort on his face. Before he can continue, probably to defend himself, Ratchet says, "No, I think it's...interesting. How you think of things. There's a logic to it, if you believe in things like souls. It's just...how do you believe in something that you can't see, or can't be proven?"

Drift gives a small smile at that. "It can't be proven in the scientific sense, but it can definitely be experienced. I have." He pats at the greatsword laid in his lap. "I feel Wing with me, always. It's like another sense, and you can't really understand it until you identify even having that sense. Like...you won't know what 'tasting' is until you put something in your mouth."

Such a strange way of putting it. There's a knee-jerk reaction Ratchet has to things like that, things so esoteric they border on nonsensical, but when he thinks on it he can sort of understand what Drift's trying to say. But he can't help but ask, "Is that how you 'sensed' those stupid escape pods?"

"That was Primus' guidance."

"Right." Ratchet sits in the copilot seat and shuts up, for his own sake.

When they're not practicing chirolinguistics, and there's no more frivolous repairs for Ratchet to work on, he demands regular check-ups on Drift. He reasons that he needs to keep up his practice and that Drift is far overdue for extensive repairs. They both really need an overhaul, if they can scrape the money together. For now, he resorts to rote examinations to make himself feel useful.

He examines the jagged scar on Drift's spark chamber. Of all the Decepticons' stupid beliefs, forging their badges from their own metal, ripped from the most vital organ of their bodies, is one of the more irritating. There's any number of conditions that can arise from the practice, if not an almost instant death that can come from a botched surgery.

"I can practically smell you judging me," Drift says from above. He sounds hauty for someone with his chest wide open.

Ratchet huffs and pulls back a little from his scrutinizing--all the scans came back fine, anyway. "You know, I'm just annoyed because--"

"--you worry. I know." Drift smiles at him. Ratchet still doesn't like having his sentences finished, but he lets it go with just a scowl.

"What did you even do with your badge? I know some defectors have it smelted down and reattached."

"It's long gone--I didn't want it anymore." Ratchet pushes his chair away from the examination table, and Drift shifts his chest plates back. "For a while I regretted it, but I think it's good that the scar is there. It's not something I want to burnish over and forget."

Ratchet remounts the scanner into its port, and his gaze feels distant. "Yeah, I get that." He swivels back around with his penlight out, reaching for Drift's face. He places his chin in the hand, and Ratchet maneuvers it to get a good look at Drift's eye.

The last time he'd looked at them like this, they'd been leaking rust. They're clear now, healthy, though they certainly have some wear. The light sensor at the back of the eye seems standard, a CMOS with a few dozen gold wires. Ratchet counts six lenses instead of five, which isn't unusual and makes sense for someone who was a sharpshooter. Ratchet frowns as he moves to the other eye.

"I didn't ask you what you think of the stars," Drift says suddenly.

Ratchet thought they'd moved past that. "They're giant balls of gas formed by gravity and nuclear fusion."

Ratchet decides to be satisfied with his exam, so he shuts the light off and frees Drift. Drift's smiling and says, "I figured you didn't have a very romantic view of them."

"The similarity to sparks is interesting," Ratchet says. "I agree with the theory that stars are our ancestors; Vector Sigma is likely a small neuron star that evolved to carry code. But no, I don't think of them as gods or souls or anything. They're natural phenomenon that, in incredibly rare cases like with Cybertron, learned to reproduce as small bundles of positrons and code that formed a protective shell around them that we call our bodies."

Drift puts his chin in his hand as Ratchet speaks. "You know, that seems far more miraculous than a higher being granting life to a planet."

"Something I've learned after all this time--especially on the Lost Light, is that the universe is far, far more vast and old and unknown than we like to imagine. Things that seem unbelievable can find a way given enough time and the right circumstances. I think it cheapens the grandeur of the universe just say a god made it all and stop questioning how and why things are."

Drift nods. "Religion doesn't negate the need for scientific inquiry, I think. There's nothing wrong with trying to understand and finding answers for yourself--we know what it's like to have those in charge tell us what to believe without explanation. But don't you think all this is the way it is, that anything exists at all because the universe itself has a will--many wills, even--that make the shape of everything?"

"That's stupid."

Drift laughs. "That's more like it."

They take time getting back to the Lost Light. More than necessary, but things always seem to get out of hand. They need to get the shuttle repaired and they need to find a place that supplies energon, and then there's a stop Drift wants to make nearby, and somehow they'll end up being chased out of that town and onto the next. They are currently stowing away in cargo that's being shipped back to the station they left the shuttle at to be fixed. It's cramped and humid and dark, huddled together behind large metal drums that rattle as the ship fires its thrusters. It's not so bad though. It gives Ratchet time to think, to piece things together in his head like he's had so little time (or will) to do.

Drift's hand finds his. Ratchet turns it over appeasingly without thinking. Then Drift does something with his fingers, and Ratchet realizes it's chirolinguistics. Drift does it again so Ratchet can catch it:

Are you okay?

Ratchet has to make the translation in his mind. Fine.

You seem happy.

Drift has that pleased little smile on his face. It used to grind Ratchet's gears, but now it feels like a good-natured tease that he needs to return. Somehow, talking in hand has a layer of removal that makes talking about things like this a little easier.

Yeah. Weird, he signs back. Drift grins.

Drift's refueling when Ratchet puts down a stack of pads on the table before him. "Hey," he says, and he doesn't bother sitting or letting Drift reply before he continues: "I've been reading and thinking and it's possible you have very mild outlier abilities. Being able to see an energy field--if that's what 'auras' are--says to me that you're processing light in a more advanced way than average Cybertronians. It's possible you have general enhanced senses, like how you're able to do so much crazy shit with your swords, but by just looking at your frame there's nothing suggesting any unique hardware helping you run like this. So I can only guess that there's something in your CNA that developed a unique code for how you process stimuli. There's really no way to know without looking directly at the code in your brain, but that's leaning way too far into mnemosurgery than is comfortable, in my opinion. I think the theory is sound, though. I'll ask First Aid to read what I've written when we get back.

Drift's staring at him. Ratchet suddenlt desperately wishes he hadn't run out of things to say. Somehow he thought if he just talked enough he could bowl over the awkwardness of the conversation. He debates opening a datapad and showing the research he'd gone over when Drift speaks: "You believe me?"

"Hm?"

"You think I--that I can really see auras?"

Ratchet huffs. "Well, obviously you're seeing something. I don't think it's emissions from your soul or whatever, so I'm trying to figure out what. If...you wanna read what I wrote, maybe it'd help..."

Everything becomes increasingly embarrassing as it stays quiet. Ratchet feels very, very exposed, standing before Drift and being honest, being thoughtful. He then realizes that he's not quite sure what he hoped to accomplish with this; Drift is more than satisfied thinking that he can read people's auras and doesn't need a scientific explanation for his beliefs. This was an entirely self-serving affair that he has dropped before Drift and expected a response.

As Ratchet is thinking through an escape strategy, Drift stands up and takes Ratchet's head in his hands and leans forward to kiss him right on the mouth. It effectively stops every process in Ratchet's brain, so he's just standing there with his hands half raised and his eyes open. He can see the pretty color of the metal on Drift's face, a mild color that looks like a rich grey but has the warmth of lavender in it.

Drift pulls back pretty quickly--the whole kiss lasted maybe a second. Drift's still staring at him with his eyes brighter than Ratchet ever remembers seeing them. Implausibly, he sounds out of breath as he says, "Thanks."

Ratchet doesn't say anything so Drift drops his eyes and his hands to scoop up the pads Ratchet had brought. "I will read these. If that's alright."

Ratchet replies, "Yeah. Great."

Drift walks right out the door. Ratchet watches as it closes and he stands there and wonders if he'd secretly hoped something like this would happen, if his own mind betrayed him into being vulnerable so Drift could take him and do whatever he wanted with him. It's very, incredibly possible, so Ratchet stops thinking on it and makes his own hasty retreat from an empty room.

[thecatundertheladder]

how about fsm's and lloyds first meeting in the fsm lives au?

First of all thank you so much for asking!!! I had a lot of fun writing this even if took ages. Right so I haven't completely figured out when the ninja actually meet Fsm, but I'll get to that later. I do have a rough timeline so probably in between seasons five and six (Possession will obviously get retconned a lot). Garmadon is alive btw.

Lloyd had never really made the connection between his grandfather and the First Spinjitzu Master. Like sure he knew it logically, but there was a real difference between 'my grandfather is the First Spinjitzu Master' and 'the First Spinjitzu Master is my grandfather'. And besides, the guy was dead, as far as he could tell, so it didn't really matter other than 'hey I inherited cool powers and also his arch nemesis'. Honestly, the only things Lloyd knew about his grandfather were that he invented spinjitzu, used the golden weapons to create Ninjago, fought the Overlord, and he had two kids, who happened to be Lloyd's dad and uncle.

So naturally it was quite a shock when one day at breakfast Wu announced that his father was coming to visit in a few days.

What resulted from that statement was a rather long and, uh, productive (not really) conversation (a very loud debate).

Cole: What?! But he’s supposed to be dead! Kai: No no one of my village elders said he just left this realm and would return when we need him most. Morro: Nah grandpa just does whatever he likes. Though he was in another realm last time I checked, at least that's right. Jay: What the fuck does that even mean?!

That ,of course, sparked a whole other debate about why Morro knew that. It got sorted out in the end, eventually, after a few thrown noodle bowls.

But while the others seemed to calm down after that, Lloyd steadily got more anxious. Because this was his grandfather, the man who had created Ninjago itself, and fought the Overlord the first time. Yes, Lloyd had done that as well, but what if he didn’t met his grandfather's expectations? What if he was disappointed in him?

Morro, on the other hand, was pretty excited to see his grandpa again; it had been two years, and despite Morro taking advantage of Fsm's omniscience to inform him about various coming and goings, he hadn’t had an actual conversation, and he had a lot of things to show him as well. But Lloyd had seemed pretty anxious since Wu’s announcement, so, like any good older cousin, Morro cornered him on the way to breakfast.

Morro: What’s up with you? You’ve been anxious ever since dad told us grandpa was coming here. Lloyd, mumbling: What if I don't live up to his expectations? Morro: Huh? Lloyd, louder: What if he's disapointed in me? Morro: As someone who's actually meet him, his expectations are don't die, and don't kill innocent people. Pretty low expectations if you ask me. You'll be fine.

This makes Lloyd feel a bit better, but he's still anxious, and he refuses to talk to anyone else about it because, to him at least, it seems a bit dumb to be anxious about meeting his grandfather when no else is (they are, Lloyd just hasn't noticed).

Anyway fast forward to The Day of The Arrival. Lloyd gets up earlier than usual in order to mentally prepare himself for meeting God. And, since he's expecting to have a few hours before the First Spinjitzu Master arrives, he doesn't really bother to make himself presentable before making his way to the kitchen.

This was a mistake.

Because when lloyd enters the kitchen there's man(?) sitting at the table wearing a black kimono with gold detailing. And Lloyd's first though is 'fuck, its the First Spinjitzu Master' before he realises that the man (? seriously why is it so hard to tell) is in his late thirties at most. So Lloyd's next thought is 'why is this random person in my kitchen?'

Lloyd, suspicious: Who are you and why are you here? Fsm, smiling: I'm your grandfather, and I'm your grandfather. Lloyd: You can't be my grandfather! You're like thirty! Fsm: I am not thirty, I'm a shapeshifter. Fsm, now vaguely concerned: You didn’t know that? Why didn’t you know that?

So, luckily, Fsm, by being themself, manages to almost completely allay Lloyd’s anxiety by getting up, telling Lloyd to follow him, and going to find both his children so they can smack them on the head because come on you two this is Morro all over again (Fsm can't really talk though, his godly domain should really be 'forgetting to tell people important information'). Because he can understand Morro not knowing that Fsm - and subsequently their descendants - isn’t human, but Lloyd is actually related!

Lloyd, meanwhile, is shocked. God, his grandfather, is in his house, looking all of thirty, and stalking through the monastery all while grumbling under his breath about his kids not telling Lloyd something, all while Lloyd trails behind him like a lost fawn.

It’s then Lloyd remembers his pyjamas and bed hair, and he just, internally cringes. Like, c'mon, this is the First Spinjitzu Master, and here he is looking like he just got out of bed (that he actually did just get out of bed is completely pointless in Lloyd’s mind). But something about this thought process must have shown in his face and body language (never mind that Lloyd is behind his grandfather), because suddenly the First Spinjitzu Master (man Lloyd really has to get his name) is turning around, stopping Lloyd in his tracks.

Fsm: Stop that. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I am 25,000 years old, and I have raised two children, I have seen a lot worse than bed hair.

That makes Lloyd blush, but his grandfather is already on the move again, seeking out his children.

Of course, once Fsm does find their children, Lloyd has the pleasure of finding out that his grandfather his half oni, half dragon (“dragoni”, his father says, “easier on the tongue”).

But once Lloyd processes that he’s not fully human (and, like in the show, he’s pretty calm about because it makes a lot of sense when he actually thinks about) he starts to bond with his grandpa and damn the First Spinjitzu Master is not anything like he expected him to be, but honestly, Lloyd is actually kinda relieved about that. He’s a lot more approachable than Lloyd expected, and it seems he’s where Wu and Garmadon got the more, um, eccentric sides of their personalities. Lloyd is still a bit nervous around him, but that slowly goes away over the few weeks that Fsm is staying for.

Throughout those weeks, Lloyd kinda starts to get comfortable around Fsm. Lloyd shows Fsm a bunch of video games (I've decided this includes Minecraft because, listen, Fsm would be great at Minecraft (specifically creative mode) and you can't tell me otherwise), as well as board games, which leads to the interesting revelation that Mystake (Mystake?! Who runs the tea shop?!) banned Fsm from playing uno a few months after it come out because he tackled someone after he had to pick up 16 cards.

Hope you enjoyed!

But yeah I’ll probably do a separate post for the family bonding.

Also I feel like I need to give fsm a proper name at this point. I’ve been calling them imaragami (ih-ma-rah-gar-mi) since I started thing this whole idea up but tbh it’s just a bunch of random syllables put together (I’m kinda attached to it at this point tho). But anyway what do you think?

[airandyeah]

Sweater Weather (Depressed!Gojo X Reader) Pt.3

I planned on writing this yesterday but I had a very sudden and extreme anxiety attack, and afterwards I dropped into a gross depression state, so, now I am back, sorry for the delay. The spotify playlist is here (Currently playing: From Now On We Are Enemies; Fall Out Boy) (Not adding lyrics to the text so I can write more) Series masterlist My masterlist

You hadn't seen Gojo Satoru in years. Looking at the blind folded man child now, as he drew a penis on a piece of paper to give to your best friend, you wondered what the hell went on in that empty head. "This will only serve to piss him off y'know", you tell him, watching as he folds the paper up. "Oh C'mon Y/n~ You and Nanami are just no fun!", he says it in a playful voice, a smile stretched wide, and you couldn't help but wonder why he keeps it plastered to his face. There was no reason to smile like that in this industry. You couldn't deny though, watching Nanami's face as Gojo had fun with his shenanigans was hilarious. He had just come back from dropping the note in Nanami's pocket as you both watched him take it out, you laughed behind your hand, and Gojo turned to stare at you. He liked that sound. Your laugh. "What?", you ask him. "Nothing." ~~~ "Satoru I have always felt bad for you", you speak into the mostly empty room, it only being you and Gojo himself, him drinking down some sugary cafe drink while you drank some coffee with minimal sweetener, wanting the caffeine too boost your system. "Why?", he asks, stopping slurping at his straw to look at you curiously, his uncovered eyes staring at you from across the table. "Well first off, your glow-in-the-dark eyes are shit", you start with a joke, making him pout. "But seriously, the amount of responsibility you hold, I mean, you've been Heralded as the strongest before you even had a birthday with double digits.", you speak up, leaving a solid tension after you finish your statement. "It's not all that bad", he tells you, his smile has long dropped. "It must be lonely", you say bluntly and he stares at you for a beat longer before speaking up himself. "You're a special grade too. I'm sure you also feel the pressure and the loneliness.", you sigh at his words. "I feel a lot of things. My goal with coming back is really to help the new students, they need someone to support them, you and I both know that.". ~~~ Satoru had invited you back to his place that night, he offered you some random expensive alcohol, and you accepted it. He didn't drink, he couldn't get drunk, he learned that. So he grabs a little oreo shake he pre-made from his fridge before coming to sit beside you in his living room. "You ever had a girlfriend?", you ask, the alcohol loosening your tongue. "No. Never dated. You?", he responds. "Nope.". You both sit in silence after that, taking sips of your respective drinks. "You should see a doctor, Satoru.", you break the silence. "What makes you say that?", his voice sounds like he's miles away in his own thoughts. "I see the look in your eyes, and I know you need help.", you tell him. He turns to look at you, making eye contact, "How would you know what I need? How would you know anything about it? About the look in my eyes, huh?", he almost sounded hostile. "Because when I look into your eyes, all i see is a reflection of my own.".

Taglist: @kiel-luvsripples , @asahinasstuff

Little shorter than usual, sorry.

[spikesbunny]

Hiii (≡^∇^≡) can I ask for a Spike x Reader, where the newbie reader has the task of washing the crew's clothes and is caught trying on Spike's jacket? Please, thank you and drink water! 🩵

☆ TRENCH COAT

+ warnings: none!

+ ft: spike spiegel x gn reader

+ wc: 0.8k

+ an: hello nonnie!! i love this ask, it's so cute omg!!! and thank you, make sure you drink water and take care of yourself too mwahh 💖

you were new to the crew, having joined after meeting spike at a bar a few days ago. they were in dire need of a mechanic, someone who could easily take care of the ship while jet was busy, and you were fortunate enough to have expertise in said field.

surprisingly, the crew was very receptive to you. faye was glad to finally have a rational-seeming adult with her, other than her only real companions she talked to being a dog and a kid. jet was a sweetheart, and spike seemed to be nice enough.

unfortunately, being the newbie meant you had some jobs that the others didn't wanna pick up. specifically, laundry.

you didn't mind doing the laundry, it was a change from sweating and fixing parts - especially the swordfish II, which spike seemed to have no problem constantly crashing. he even lingered around while you repaired it, using it as a way to talk to you more.

faye had pointed out that it was a shitty excuse for flirting. you had brushed it off, saying maybe he was awkward.

you fold up the clothes you just pulled out of the dryer, deciding to go the extra mile and sort them by who they belong to. you sit on the floor, enjoying your peace as you delicately fold each piece, as if the fabric were the most fragile piece in the world.

that was, until you reached spike's trench coat.

you found the piece interesting. it was a statement piece. it went with practically anything, or at least, so you thought. you had always wanted a trench coat, the flowy fabric dramatic yet mysterious.

the fact that it was spike's was just a cherry on top.

you were alone in the laundry room, and no one seemed to be coming. besides, you had taken the time to do all their laundry. even the sweaty nasty clothes you really didn't want to touch. it wouldn't hurt to just try on the coat, right?

you put the coat over your shoulders, slipping your arms into your sleeves. it was a bit long on you, your frame shorter than spike's much leaner and taller one. walking over to the mirror, you observe yourself in it.

it was a nice look. honestly, you should just buy your own trench coat. you continue observing yourself, striking different poses in it. you were so absorbed in your head and the flowy trench coat, that you didn't hear the foot steps behind you.

as you turn around to remove the coat and fold it, there stand spike. right behind you. he just witnessed you trying on his coat.

he leans against the door frame, a smirk plastered on his face. ugh, he's gonna kill me! you think to yourself.

"like it, huh?" he ask, picking up the trench coat from your hands as you nervously attempted to fold it.

"uhm, yea. it's a pretty piece of clothing. i was just admiring it, i'm so so-"

"nonsense." he cuts you off. "i'm not mad. in fact... i find it cute." he leans down, smiling in your face. his eyes trail over your features, taking in your flustered state.

cute.. he thought i was cute. in his coat. oh my god. "thanks." you mumble out, unsure how to even face your crew mate at this point. he wasn't mad?

"you know, i'm not really a fan of this coat anymore, to be honest." he confess, shrugging as he holds out the coat, looking at it. "think it would be better with you. dontcha agree?"

wait, he wants me to have his trench coat?? what?? your mind is racing, unsure what to make of this interaction.

"take it." he smiles, walking behind you to drape the coat over your shoulders, letting it rest on your body. "it looks much better on you than me. she needs a new owner, i've... i've tainted her." he confess, smiling as he takes in the sight of you in his coat. "maybe you can give her a new life?"

you nod, thanking spike.

"of course." he coos, meeting your eyes. "it looks... really good on you. like, really good." his eyes look over your body, sending you into a blushing mess again.

"maybe we can see what other of my clothes look like on you? how's that sound?" he smirks, leaning down to press a kiss to your hand.

"whatever it is, you're definitely on laundry duty, doll. and i'll be checking in, so feel free to do whatever you please." he waves, walking out of the room.

whatever happened between you and spike, you really wanted more of it. you hug the coat against you, looking back in the mirror. he was right, you'd give the coat a new life. just as he had given you.

©2025 spikesbunny- please do not repost/translate my works on other media sites ♡

[dozing-marshmallow]

Hiya!

Can I request Mike (+ alters, without Chester) with a S/O who's got social anxiety? :0

basically an awkward mess around their crush

masc reader if possible

You got it! I hope you enjoy this! Thank you so much for being patient, lovely!

MIKE + SVETLANA + VITO + MANITOBA X MASC!READER WITH SOCIAL ANXIETY SCENARIOS

SVETLANA:

“Having trouble deciding, dear?”

You could recognise that Russian accent anywhere. You turned around and called,“S...Svetlana?”

Svetlana slapped a hand to her chest,“Yes, it is I! Whatever is bothering you?”

Well... There’s no harm in confining in her... She asked, after all, so it’d be rude to not answer,“Um... I’m not...sure what I should wear.” you held up a shirt,“I got this shirt as a birthday gift, but I don’t really like it... But I’m scared that makes me insensitive of the time and effort they put into finding this shirt for me...”

She asked, stepping forward,“And what do you want to wear?”

“Well... I was hoping to wear this...” you held up another shirt that was more to your taste,“I never wore it before...because I don’t wanna appear arrogant or...”

“Nonsense! You’re just appearing with tons of fashion!” Svetlana claims, gently patting your shoulders,“Who else do you know will wear something as fabulous as this? You shouldn’t pass up on such style for the eye of the public! How do you think Svetlana made a name for herself before she became famous? By wearing clothes that made a statement! Outfits that won’t be forgotten by those who see it!”

“Yeah, so they could go make fun of you to their friends...” you mumble,“You know what, forget it, uh I’m sorry. I’ll just go for this one-“

“Uh uh!” She interrupted, twirling her finger,”You care too much about what strangers think of you! Why would you wanna put aside your happiness for someone who you don't know that could be mean?"

Irritation floods your mood. It's not like you wanted to be an overthinker,“I can’t help it, okay? I wanna look sensible enough to not be given dirty glares...”

“You think people don't give Svetlana dirty glares?"

That caught you off guard,"They do?"

"They do! And you think Svetlana should give up on her dreams of a worldwide famous Olympic champion?"

"No, absolutely not..."

"So! Why should you?"

You didn’t think that comparison was fair,"But you're fabulous. You're like...awesome. Talented and uh, successful. You're someone worth respecting..." 

"Not according to everyone!" she exclaimed,"People will be judgemental, no matter what you do! So go in there and change!"

She was giving you no choice. Reluctantly, you go into your bathroom and change into your second choice of shirt.

"Have a look, darling! Tell me how you feel!" she enthusiastically gestured as you exited the bathroom to do a full body scan in your mirror.

You... This shirt.. You were pleased,"Um... I like it." you murmured, turning to face Svetlana,“Thank you.”

VITO:

You went to a party with Mike when at some point, Vito had been summoned and he was living it up.

With no other company, you awkwardly retreated to one of the seats, just observing, who you could have been if you weren’t so...so...

He eventually came down to sit next to you, so you took the opportunity to call him,”Um... Vito?"

"Mhm?" he lets out, snatching a sip from the cup he sat down with.

"I...got asked to uh, stay the night." you informed, fidgeting with your fingers.

He snorted,"Okay?"

"But I don't want to... I'm really tired.” you mumbled.

"So just say that?" 

If only it was that simple,"But I feel bad... I don't wanna be rude."

He rolls his eyes and positions his hand next to his mouth as he shouted to the mutual friend in charge of the party!

You started panicking. What is he doing? Oh no, he’s gonna snitch, he’s gonna-

"Yo, (Y/N) and I are gonna dip." he claimed, standing up.

"Huh? But (Y/N) agreed to stay the night." the host shouted over the heads of people, clearly unknown to your presence next to Vito.

"Yeah, no. Sorry, we remembered we gotta be somewhere else tonight."

It’s out of my hands, I can’t do anything. He wasn’t gonna be offended, was he-

"Oh okay... Let him know I said goodnight." and he just...left.

...Huh?

You glanced up, seeing Vito sigh and extend a hand to you,”You really need to stop giving a damn."

You rub your hand against your chest, trying to remove whatever sweat that extracted from your fingers before taking his. You couldn’t help but feel so relieved,"I should, but I just feel so bad..."

"Feeling bad isn't gonna solve anything, hunk. Next time, you're on your own." he claimed, pulling you out of the party.

You felt intimidated by that, but of course, you don't share that.

MANITOBA:

You were at a restaurant with Mike when Manitoba made an appearance.

Everything went smoothly, until he spun his head around in disbelief,”Ay, what the hell kinda establishment is this? Where are the waiters?"

"Um...” you set your menu down, and point towards the kiosk,”You...You have to..."

"Speak up, I can't 'ear you." he leans in.

That ironically made you speak quieter,"You have to go up...to the counter."

"Don't these places get weirder every time I visit." he slides his menu towards you,"Aight. I want the chicken tenders and fries with the lemon lime."

Your heart dropped to your stomach. He was asking you to order? Your hands were shaking.

"Um..."

"Well, what's the holdup?" He asked, the impatiently.

"I-I can't." you managed to stutter out.

“The hell you mean you can’t? Mate they ain’t gonna bite ya.” 

"I know, but... I'm too nervous." the thought of it was too overwhelming.

"Nervous? What are you, a girl? Besides, you invited me out here! Ain't it only polite to order for us?"

"Erm... It was you who invited me here... Well actually, it was Mike." you informed, now looking away and staring at your thumping leg.

"Seriously?" Manitoba scoffs and appeared that he was going to keep on, but saw how distressed you were. It was embarrassing, but he ended up grabbing the menu from both of you- he stood up and looked around, seeming to search for the counter. Having found it, he goes to join the queue.

You couldn’t watch the interaction. You were too ashamed. How selfish could you be?

You don’t know how long it took him, but once you heard the chair in front of you shuffle, you were reeled out from your self deprecation.

Manitoba had returned, setting down a glass of lemon lime on his side, and a glass of water on your side,”Drink it.”

You waited for your vision to clear up, before reaching out and grabbing the glass, and sipping on it. The cold water ran through your body, relaxing your muscles.

You set the glass down and looked at him, still feeling slightly guilty, yet thankful,”...Thank you.”

He shrugs,”I don’t get it, but if you’re with Mike, he must really care about you. And anyone he cares about, I’ll care about too, I suppose.”

MIKE:

Your therapist recommended drawing as a way to manage your emotions, so you often found comfort in journaling your days with Mike, noting, drawing, shaping your respectable pages to match your internal struggles.

On this day, he looked up from his own blue journal, sheepishly voicing,”I hope they haven't made you uncomfortable."

You quickly affirm otherwise,"No, actually. I felt embarrassed, yes…but they were kind in their own ways...very kind.”

"Aw... That’s very nice of you to say, (Y/N).” he warmly replied,”I also always used to feel so embarrassed, whenever they would come out around company... Not a lot people were as nice as you.” he added, making you feel sorry for his past situations as he scratched his pen against his page again,”I’m really happy we’re friends, (Y/N). I don’t think I say it enough, but I am so thankful to have you in my life.”

Oh... You drew a heart on your page as you beam softly,”Yeah... Me too.”

[melanatedkink]

Forget About It

Pairing: Y/N x Sero Hanta

Quirkless AU

Warnings: Angst, mentions of sex, trauma dumping if you squint, impulsive writing, love confession, implied happy ending

What had started out as an undisputed, best one night stand of your life, quickly devolved into a rollercoaster of unrequited turmoil. You breaking your own rule, falling in love with a man you met strictly to have sex with. A man who had been coming to the bar you worked for with his friends. A man who had won you over one night with a wink and a challenge. You remember when he first offered, you smugly blew him off.

"Every guy thinks he's unforgettable in bed. What makes you different?" you scoffed.

Hanta shrugged," True. But if you are able to forget me after tonight, it would definitely be because of the alcohol,"

A cheesy line. You were well aware, but it was a Friday night, and you were getting out of closing the bar so you took him up on his offer. He made sure you felt comfortable in his home, starting up a healthy conversation before getting intimate. He asked questions about what you were into. You never met a man that thorough. And anything you didn't like would be swept away in favor of your desires. He followed your lead, complimenting your drive harmoniously through the night.

The next few days, you chewed your lip whenever you saw his number at the top of your message list. It was so tempting to text him. But, you didn't need him saving face. He probably didn't even remember you. God, you couldn't convince yourself to not send that text. One that effectively sealed your fate, when he invited you over that night.

Those few times festered into a pastime. You began meeting with his even if he hadn't showed up to the bar. You would chat, go out with his friends, and ultimately spend more time in house just talking rather than ripping each other's clothes off. You couldn't deny the way he perked up at your suggestions to see him, nor could you hide the anticipation you felt everytime you set up a meeting.

"Y/N?" You glanced up to find Hants offering you a glass. It was a coktail you two had been sipping on as you lounged on his couch. You offered a smile, and took it. You hoped he didn't notice how awkward you were being.

He smirked, tilting his head as he rounded the couch and sat on the floor. He looked up at you like he was trying to figure something out without saying anything.

"I don't get you, sometimes," he began.

You furrowed your brows at is observation," What's not get?"

"Get this, okay," He turns so he can lay an arm on your knees as he speaks,"We meet up. You text me back days later proving me right by the way." He accents his statement with a wink before continuing," We hang out. You meet my friends and...you're still sitting here like it's our first night together. If you think I'm attracted to shyness, well, I got news for you,"

You fiddle with the cup. Of course you were well aware of the way you acted. It was almost obsessive how you kept tabs on everything you said in a single conversation, combing every word for a reason to be cast out. You chest tightened. Cast out. Forgotten. It was easy to keep up appearances at a bar. Being awkward in the midst of tipsy patrons was low risk. Getting to know someone was much harder to do. Because for you, the deeper the rabbit hole went, the more alone you'd end up feeling. Those starter conversations didn't hold up too well, and your personality...well forget that. Nobody was gonna take the time to understand that.

"I-I...what an observation," You faltered.

Hanta sighed, his flirty tone losing its dominance.

"You're really gonna make me say it first, huh?"

You stiffen," Say...what?"

"I get that where we met wasn't conventional but I do like you. I thought that taking you out might get you to be a little more comfortable with me but...it doesn't seem to be helping,"

You go to set your cup down, willing all the sobriety you could muster for this.

"But, if telling you that I like you and I want to be your lover helps then-"

"I have to go,"

Hanta stuttered as you rose from the couch. He scrambles to his feet, inserting himself between you and the front door.

"Woah woah, you're not going anywhere after drinking. At least let me take you home,"

"Y-you don't have to. I can call a ride-"

"Okay, what is it?" he softens his tone," What is it that I'm doing that's making you so...distant?"

Of all the times a little white lie would have sufficed, you couldn't lie to Hanta. He wasn't a stranger at this point. You cared about him. But the idea of him getting close...finding something about you that he couldn't put up with. You couldn't deal with that again. You couldn't untangle that emotion with Hanta.

"L-look I...I hate being alone. I've had to be alone for so long because I just don't really know how to connect with people. I'm too intense. I want to be close and learn things about them and show them I care. But one too many times, people just...they don't really want that. At least, not from me," You lock eyes with him," I don't just like you. I care. And if you think that's gross or weird just tell me,"

He shook his head in disbelief," Who the hell made you think like that? You think that...that getting close makes you lonely?"

You shrug,"I can't help it,"

"Okay but, one that doesn't make you the problem, and two that is exactly what I want from you," Hanta states," Do you really want to be alone, again?"

You consider his words. It was a novel idea, one you had never seen in practice. Logically, you couldn't risk it, but emotionally, you were exhausted. You couldn't go another day tormenting yourself with the idea that yet another person didn't want you as close as you wanted them. You shook your head, readying yourself for a plot twist to confirm your reality. Instead, you were met with a gentle kiss on the top of you head. Hanta gazed at you filled with conviction. He didn't know what you had been through, but he was sure going to find out. If not tonight, then on a date where you would officially be together.

[ameliesopp]

Part 3 - A break // Dean Winchester x fem!OC

Warnings: none really. Little bit of violence, a little fluff.

(Part 1 & 2 will be linked in the comments. Btw should I publish this on wattpad too?👀)

—-

May woke up in the motel bed about ten hours later. It was very early morning, still dark outside. Dean was sitting next to her, a can of coke in his hand.

"Hey", she said softly as she sat up.

"Heey. Welcome back, sweetheart. How you feeling?"

"Like I was drugged", she grumbled as she lay down in his lap.

Dean gently stroked her hair back.

"Yeah, Sammy made sure he got arrested", he said as he looked over at Sam, sound asleep.

"Have you slept at all?", she asked as she looked up at him.

"No, couldn't. Someone had to watch over you. Make sure you don't stop breathing."

She sighed.

"I'm sorry about that."

"It's okay. You're the one who got drugged."

"Yeah, that sucked. That asshole wanted to rape me."

"Which is why I broke his face."

"Thanks for that."

"Nothing's gonna happen to you on my watch, sweetheart."

She sat up to kiss him on the cheek.

"I'm gonna drink some water, take a shower and get changed. You go to sleep, Dean. I'm serious. You need some rest, I'm fine."

"Just hurry. I won't be able to sleep until you're safe and sound."

She sighed and kissed him on the cheek again.

"Fine. Give me ten minutes."

Fifteen minutes later she was snuggled up against his chest and Dean could finally get some sleep, too.

But he did have his gun on the nightstand.

He woke up again with May's head still resting on his chest, an arm over his hip.

He looked up and saw Sam, already dressed, next to him.

"Hey. I'm gonna go down to the station. You guys should come, too. She needs to give a statement."

"Yeah. Sure. Give us a few minutes."

"Sure. I'll be outside."

Sam hesitated for a second.

"How is she doing?"

"She'll be okay, I think."

"Okay. Good."

Sam left and Dean gently woke up May to tell her to get ready.

An hour later they had all three given their statements, when a police officer ripped open the door.

"He's gone! Hank-"

"What?!"

Dean jumped up, Sam and May right behind him as they ran towards the holding cells.

The door was melted down, Hank was gone.

"No. No, no, no, this can not be happening!", May yelled as she sank down, crouching on the floor, and Dean placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey. It's okay. We'll find him, it's okay."

"This...is witchcraft", Sam said as he pointed at the melted down door.

"Maybe he killed the brothers. You know, three witches might have been too much for this town."

"Let's go to the house. Look for hex bags", May said as she got up, suddenly regaining her composure.

"You okay?", Dean asked as he held her back.

"Yeah. I just wanna find that son of a bitch. And hey - if he is a witch, I'm the one who kills him, all right?"

"Yeah. Sure."

"Dean, promise. Promise me you will let me do it."

"I promise."

She observed his face for a second and then nodded.

"Okay. Fine."

—

The brothers had been living in a gigantic mansion at the edge of the small town. It had huge windows, although some of them were covered, was surrounded by big, old trees, and was atop a small hill.

"Great. It's gonna take hours to search this whole thing", May grumbled as they got out of the car.

"And why am I wearing heels?", she complained as they started their way up a muddy path.

Dean grinned and then picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder.

"Dean!", she giggled when he pretended to bite her ass and they both laughed as he carried her through the mud up the hill.

"You're pretty strong, Winchester", she grinned as he let her down at the front door, holding onto his shoulders to regain her balance.

"Mmh, I know", he said with a cocky smirk and leaned down to kiss her, when Sam shoved his shoulder.

"Guys. Focus. Hex bag."

He ripped the crime scene tape off the door and Dean sighed.

"We just can't catch a break, huh."

"Don't worry", May said, tapping his chest, "we'll find some time again."

Then she followed Sam inside, leaving Dean behind on the porch, where he took a deep breath.

"All right, then."

They were lucky. A big part of the house was closed off and looked like it hadn't been inhabited in decades.

Sam went upstairs, Dean took the kitchen, May the living room.

She pulled out a few books that looked interesting, about herbs and witchcraft, and then suddenly she heard a loud clunk.

"Woah. What was that?", she heard Dean's voice behind her as he entered the room.

"I don't know", May said slowly.

Dean placed a hand on her back.

"I'm not sure we-"

In that moment the bookshelf started moving slightly.

"Okay, that is freaky", May said as Dean pulled her a step back. A staircase appeared in front of them, leading down into a dark abyss.

"Sammy? Get down here!", Dean yelled as he brushed his coat aside to pull his gun. May did the same as they slowly made their descend down the stairs.

"Why is it so fucking dark down here?", she cursed as she held up her phone, trying to use the flashlight, but it didn't help much.

"I don't know. Maybe magic", Dean said as he made it down to the bottom.

May looked around and found a light switch on the wall.

It took a couple seconds but then a light bulb flickered on.

"Wow", Dean said.

"Holy shit", May agreed.

"Guess we found their...workspace."

The entire room was filled to the brim with shelves full of books, jars and bottles filled with strange liquids and objects. Occult symbols covered the walls and the floor, a table stood in the middle of the room, barely visible underneath scrolls, papers, books and tools.

"Yup, they're definitely witches", Sam's voice sounded from behind them.

"Yup. No hex bag here. Let's go back upstairs and finish the living room", May said.

"No need."

Sam held up a small brown bag.

"Bedroom. Inside the bed post."

"Inside?!"

"Yup. Almost missed it."

"This Hank guy must be pretty powerful. These guys seem to know their stuff, they didn't notice a hex bag?", May said frowning.

"We've had that before. Apparently they don't", Dean just said as he gestured towards the stairs. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

"How are we gonna find Hank?", Sam asked.

"I have a bad feeling that he might find us", Dean grumbled.

"Let's go back to the motel. Change, grab a bite to eat. Figure out the next step", Sam proposed.

"Yeah, sounds good."

They arrived back at the motel fifteen minutes Dean parked the Impala, scanning the area as his hand rested on the Colt at his hip.

"Stay sharp," he muttered as they exited the car.

May glanced around nervously, fidgeting with her ring. "This doesn't feel right."

It was strangely calm. The air felt thick and heavy, it was eerily quiet and there was no sun to be seen as a gust of wind blew a few leaves across the parking lot.

They barely made it to the door of their room before a chilling voice echoed through the lot.

"Going somewhere?"

Hank stepped out of the shadows, his face twisted into a malicious grin. His eyes were fixated on May, who instinctively took a step back, behind Dean.

Hanks sighed.

"You're a pretty one. I really wanted it to be you, you know."

"Be what?"

"The one. The one to feed on. I need your energy to survive. The magic demands a sacrifice. That's why I had to kill those other two idiots. They weren't willing to take sacrifices. They were weak. So I killed them. And got even stronger."

He grinned, spreading his arms.

"And look at me now."

"You roofied an FBI agent", Dean said unimpressed.

"Oh, don't be so dense. You're not FBI, you're hunters. And why not? Roofies are effective and cheap. Why waste my powers when I can just use what you humans use? Not like she would have noticed."

Dean was on him in a second, his fist connecting with Hank's jaw, sending him staggering back. Sam followed, pulling the gun with witch killing bullets.

Hank retaliated, raising his hand. A wave of energy surged from him, throwing Dean and Sam to the ground. May barely managed to duck behind a parked car, her ears ringing.

"Is that all you've got?" Dean growled, scrambling to his feet and firing a shot at Hank. It struck him in the shoulder, but instead of blood, black smoke hissed from the wound.

Hank cackled. "Guns won't kill me, Winchester."

"Maybe not," Dean snarled, charging him again, this time with a silver blade in hand. Hank dodged, sending another blast of magic that missed Dean by inches but hit a car, flipping it onto its side, immediately triggering its alarm.

May ran up to Hank, jumped onto his back, her arms tightly wrapped around his neck.

Hank choked out a laugh.

"And your scrawny little arms won't kill me, either."

He threw her off, against the Impala, she crashed into its side and landed hard on the asphalt with a groan.

"May!", Dean shouted in a slight panic, running up to her.

Sam used the moment of confusion to push a knife into Hank's side.

He growled and pushed Sam away as he pulled out the knife.

"God damn Winchesters!"

He flung Dean away and grabbed May by her hair.

She groaned through her teeth, blood running down from her nose and her left ear.

"Let go of me!"

"Sorry, sweetheart. No chance!"

He pulled her with him, dragging her over the ground, when suddenly Dean slammed his entire weight against him, forcing him to the ground, and unloaded an entire round of witch killing bullets into his head.

Hank's brain matter splattered all over the ground with a squelch, leaving a red and pink mess that even reached his face and his clothes. Dean groaned softly as he sat up, breathing heavily.

May fought herself up onto her knees. 

For a moment, the lot was silent except for the car alarm dying down.

"Dean", May said eventually. "You promised."

"I know."

She got up.

"No, you promised! I said I was gonna kill him, and you promised you'd let me!"

"He was dangerous, May," Dean shot back, wiping the blade clean. "I wasn't about to let him hurt you or anyone else."

"That wasn't your call though!" she said indignantly, her voice shaking. "You promised me! You act like you have to protect me, but I can handle myself! I've been hunting just as long as you have!"

Dean's jaw tightened, guilt flickering in his eyes. "I know you can. But I couldn't stand there and watch him hurt you."

May glared at him, her hands clenched into fists. "I get that, Dean. But I need to be more than just the girl you protect. I need to be an equal in this relationship, whatever this is!"

Sam stepped between them, his hands raised. "Guys, maybe save this for later? We're still standing in a parking lot with a dead witch."

Dean and May exchanged a heated look before nodding.

"Fine," May muttered, walking back toward the motel room. "But this conversation isn't over."

Dean sighed, watching her go. "Yeah. I know."

Sam clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Nice work."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Dean grumbled, shoving the blade back into his coat.

They got rid of the body, made sure the camera footage of the surveillance was deleted, and then got takeout which they brought back to the room.

May had changed into regular clothes and was reading in one of the books they had taken from the house of the two brothers.

"We got takeout", Sam said.

"Great. I'm starving", she mumbled as she geabbed some food from the bag and sat on the bed.

Dean sat next to her, placing a hand on her knee.

"Hey. I'm really sorry. You're right, I promised. I was...I didn't think. I was caught up in trying to protect you and...it  wasn't cool. He hurt you, you should have been the one to kill him. I'm sorry. Won't happen again."

"It's okay", she said softly and kissed him on the cheek.

He placed his arm around her waist to pull her a little closer and finally give her the proper kiss he had been waiting for all day.

She gently caressed his face as he pulled away and he smiled a little, biting his bottom lip for a moment.

"Think we might finally catch a break?", he asked and she had to smile.

"Yeah. We might."

"Do you guys...need a moment?", Sam asked, crumbling up the wrapper of his taco.

"Yeah, actually that'd be nice."

"Yeah. Okay. I'll...go for a walk, I guess. Be back in like...40 minutes?"

"Okay."

May smiled at him and he sighed as he left the room.

Dean and her also finished their tacos and then she climbed onto Dean's lap to kiss him again.

He placed his hands on her hips as he pulled her closer, his hands wandering under her shirt, pushing it up and then over her head.

May took off his shirt and then pushed him back onto the mattress, her lips trailing down his chest and and abs, until he flipped her over onto her back, where he did the same to her, his fingers finding the clasp of her bra as he attached his lips to her neck.

"Finally caught a break?", Sam asked chuckling when they were in the car an hour later, on their way out of town, May taking a nap in the backseat.

Dean smirked as he leaned back.

There was nothing but the open road ahead of them, his favorite Zeppelin album was playing, he was content.

"Yeah", he sighed. "Finally caught a break."

[nonbinary-thot]

Spiderman definitely has a thing for bondage!!!

a/n please note that this is not about marvel peter park (tom Holland) as he is 16 and does not progress in age. Please don't bash me about this as I am making a statement before I posted this !!!

Spiderman, aka Peter Parker was your boyfriend of three years, and he had told you two years in that he was Spiderman. He couldn't really hide it well, he always came home beaten up and you'd fix him up.

Peter was having an especially hard day today. A villain had gone berserk today, robbing bank after bank and peter just couldn't seem to catch up.

So after fighting the villain for so long, he had come home beaten up, just wanting to rest in the warm crevice of your pussy. He didn't even wanna fuck, just wanted to eat you out for a couple hours.

But when he came home, and you fixed him up, you refused to let him anywhere near you or your body. "Peter, as much as I fuckin' love you, I can't keep fixing you up after every beaten. I'm tired of it. Either stop getting hurt, or go to someone else to patch you up." You huffed, crossing your leg over your right leg. You were dressed in that silky nightgown he had gifted for you, and it turns him on so much seeing it on you.

Peter just groaned slightly, feeling his cock stir alright. "Baby please.. just a bit? I just wanna taste.. just need it baby.." peter begged, getting on his knees to sit in front of you. His eyes half lidded, a prominent pout on his now glossy lips he had just licked.

That's how you ended up... Your hands webbed to the headboard, your legs thrown over his shoulder as he pounded into you, his fingers pulling and flicking at your nipples. All you could do was cry, fat tears running down your cheeks as your cunt clenched and spasmed around his thick cock.

Peter wasn't exceptionally big per day, he was 5 inches with an upward bent, but god was he thick in girth. It was so girthy and delicious, it made you cum so hard your legs would shake. And that's how we liked it.

"fuck, I just wanted to eat you out, mama.. but you just have to be so fuckin' bratty, huh?" He growled, on of his hands leaving your nipples and gripped your waist, slamming his cock deeper into you. Your jaw was slacked, drool dripping and eyes rolled back.

He was just so.. deliciously thick, it was hard not to cum. And he could tell by the way your cunt was suddenly squeezing, the way your cunt shifted from not so tight to tight told him you were close. "Don't you fuckin' cum, bratty bitch. You wanna be a brat? You can get treated like one." He whispered, slicking the sweat off your neck and bit down lightly, licking at the indented teeth marks.

You couldn't help but clench at his threat, and the thrusts he was giving? It was to much !! You came with a broken moan, your legs tightened and closing around his neck. That made him stop.

You panted, the sticky residue of salty tears on your cheeks and his deepening glare at you only fueled you. His hand suddenly landed on your neck, tightening so you could barely breathe, but wouldn't pass out.

"Dirty girl, how could you not listen to me? It was such a clear instructions.. I guess we'll keep going, and this time I'll make sure you don't cum."

Reposts are appreciated !!! Thank you for reading :))

[puishyl]

Please Please Please, Mr Shadowsinger

An Azriel x Sabrina Carpenter Story

-459 Words-

Tags: Drinking (?)

CHAPTER ONE

"Hey Babe" said Azriel in a deep, gruff voice. He had been making fun of his brothers, Cassian and Rhys, as they had both come to boy's night at Rita's fawning over their distinctive partners.

"Aww you're just mad cause you're not gettin some, Az." said Cassian, boastfully.

"I just don't see why you have to come rub it in my face when I don't even really care." As Azriel was replying, Rhys was sitting at their booth and laughing at his brothers from other mothers. The ambience was that of a typical club, the overbearingly loud and crude music, the stench of alcohol, all the works. All sorts of people could be found here, and it was a nice distraction.

As they all sat down and ordered drinks, Azriel couldn't help but think back on how his friends had all found someone to love and settled down. Even Mor, whom he had had a crush on for the longest time, found her mate. Once they had found each other, he realized that while he did love Mor, it was more platonic and he had forced himself into the attraction due to his loneliness. In fact, he was now good friends with Mor's mate, Chappell Roan. She's a famous singer who recently skyrocketed into success, and she loves Mor more than anyone could ever know. And though he fakes being uninterested and nonchalant, his brothers' jokes do get to him. All he truly wants is to experience what they have, to-

A clashing sound on the table snaps him out of his thoughtful stupor.

"I'm so sorry, oh my gods oh gods!"

The drink Azriel had ordered was now spilled on the table, nearly making a mess on his clothes. The cutie pie of a waitress quickly sprung to work on cleaning it up, and she rapidly mumbles apologies and curses.

"Some fae just don't know how to act," she huffed.

The group quickly realized that she had been shoved by an inebriated bundle of males, causing the spill. Azriel was quick to agree with her statement, and they all helped wipe the table clean.

"It's alright, and don't worry about the drink, perhaps that was a sign that drinking tonight was a bad idea."

Smiling at Az's semi-solemn statement, the waitress quipped, "I would say l'd pay for your drink, but I don't earn enough here to pay for something that wasn't quite my fault, huh handsome.

With a slight smirk to his face, and his brothers distracted at the bar, Az let out an "I suppose."

"Welp, guess I gotta get back to work. Sorry about the drink," she said, trailing off.

After that, Azriel bid his brother good night and went to the House of Wind.

♡---♡

Next

Short prelogue type (? not really) chapter 😁