#thanks anon you split my home in half

[rassebers]

HI SORRY THIS WILL BE A BIT SAD & TALKING ABOUT DEATH but ur recent post cannon posts abt mob got me thinking about reigens inevitable yk passing,, i think,, i think mob will notice his decline, and reigen will too. reigen would get more tired often, eating less, sleeping more, asking mob to come over more often to help with basic stuff like cleaning the house. and mob would let the others know of course, and they would come over and hang out and talk about whats been going on in their lives and reigen would share every little story and thing that he thinks would help them.

hed use all of his energy to let them know that they are loved by him and wanting to bare his entire world to all his apprentices. and one day reigen would invite all of them over and theyd sit down and have a talk, not mentioning but not avoiding death and reigen would just. let them know, how much he loves them all. how much they filled that hole in his heart and helped him be a better person, how much hes learned from them and how proud of them he is,, and i think they would know. and that night when mob is helping reigen with whatever he needs after they all left, reigen would hug mob as tight as he can and tell mob how proud of him he is and how it feels like mob was reigens child or younger brother or nephew and mob would know. and when hed get the call next morning that reigen passed he would know that everything he has done and will do reigen is proud of. no matter what, reigen is proud of him. that doesnt mean mob doesnt cry or doesnt miss him, of course he does, but he knows it was reigens time and he is glad that he got to have all the time he had with reigen, with his shishou. and maybe that night reigen would come in mobs dream and offer one last goodbye with a smile on his face and tears in his eyes and it would be ok.

im sorry for the kinda dark subject n rambling and if this makes u uncomfy im so sorry!! i just rlly needed to share this,, feel free to do whatver u want with this information

i hope u have a nice day,, thank u for reading my thoughts gbyee

[luveline]

would you ever be willing to write the day spencer and stripper!reader met in the grocery store? i’ve always loved the concept when you’ve referenced it in the story, i would love to read it👀 you’re absolutely incredible and i can never say anything not anon to you because my blog is flooding you with notes constantly and i’m embarrassed😅

thank you for your request ❤️ fem!reader, 1.5k

cw for domestic violence and workplace abuse

There's this weird organic grocery store by Spencer's place that's far too expensive, but it's a ten minute walk, so that's where he goes. (Weird in separation to organic.) 

He needs a lot of groceries now he's home for the week. Bread, vegetables, rice, flour if he wants to try and make pancakes, which he does. He also needs a new pen to write a letter for his mom, but Leaven is slightly too small for a stationery section. 

He doesn't know what he'll say to her in this one. Maybe that the cases he's going on are easy, or that he's been reading about crows. She's not feeling well lately. It might help her to know he's doing gentle things, even if it isn't true. 

No, he thinks. Can't lie to her. He never lies to his mom. 

Eggs. Sugar. Coffee grounds. He fills his cart. It'll be a lot to carry on the way home, but better to do it in one go. He likes keeping busy but he's a human being, too, and he's looking forward to spending at least sixteen hours in bed after dinner tonight. 

You look tired, too. 

Your back is turned, but Spencer knows it's you. You must live close by, he's been seeing you duck in and out for months. Usually with a loaf of bread or a single box of painkillers tucked in your pocket. You don't steal, he'd be able to tell, and he wouldn't say anything if you did, anyways. All he knows about you is that you have a nice smile when you have the energy, and your voice is like silk. Purposeful or by nature, he's yet to guess. 

You're standing by the end of the aisle near the checkouts with a basket hanging from your fingers. All you're buying today is a box of pancake mix and a bag of peas. 

Weird, he thinks with a smile. Spencer likes weird stuff. It's quirky. 

You turn to see which checkout is empty and Spencer's smile abruptly drops. 

You have a bruise across half of your face. It isn't strictly fresh —he can see the split skin on your cheek starting to close in on itself, and your purpled eye is open (though barely). You're frowning. Spencer knows how bad it hurts to get hurt like that. For a split second he can't believe someone could do that to another person, and then he remembers the hundreds of women he's had the privilege to meet at their most vulnerable, who trusted him, and he thinks maybe he's capable of helping another one. 

“Hey,” he says. 

You meet his eyes with a funny smile. “Hey. Sorry, am I in the way?” you ask, your voice stretched, thin but not weak. 

“No, you're not, it's… I see you here all the time.” 

You hold your breath. When you talk, it rushes out. “So?” you ask wearily.

“Are you okay?” 

Your funny smile fades as Spencer's had. He supposes that's the talent of cruelty. Even when it's over, it's not truly over. Your bruise still hurts, and Spencer still needs to know you'll be okay when you go home tonight. 

“I see you all the time too. We've… we've actually spoken before, haven't we?” you ask after a moment. 

“Yeah, about spirometry. I was out of breath running and–” It doesn't matter. You asked him if he was okay, and he explained that he was, just that his lungs don't hold much air on account of his own laziness, and it doesn't matter. “Are you? Alright? It's a bad bruise.” 

“It's getting better.” 

It might be, but there's something so raw about seeing you standing there in your sweatpants too big for you and a hoodie with a hole in it, purple and yellow contusion across your eyes and nose like the clumsy stroke of a paintbrush. Spencer will admit to feeling sorry for you.

“Can I talk to you?” he asks, knowing this isn't the right place. “There's the cafe at the front? Let me pay for my stuff and–” 

“I'm really okay–” 

“You had a cast on your wrist two weeks ago and now you're here with a limp and a really bad bruise,” he says softly, imploringly, “I just wanna talk to you about it. You don't have to say yes, I'm not trying to be weird, but I–” 

You cut off his mile a minute speech with a small smile. “Okay. I'm not, you know, doing anything anyways. It'll be nice to sit down.” 

Spencer knows it's dumb, but he wants to show he has good intentions. He takes your basket out of your hands and nods toward the cafe past the checkouts. “I'll come and meet you.” 

“You don't have to,” you say, gesturing at the basket. 

“The damage is done, right? This place is ridiculous.” He doesn't like the way you're holding your hip. It makes him feel sick, even though there's no proof one way or another to say you've been hurt beyond your bruising.

He pays for his things and yours and meets you at the cafe. He's half expecting you to have bolted, but you sit at a table near the entrance, completely still. 

Spencer puts his two bags under the table and offers you your pancake mix and peas in their own bag. 

“Thanks.” 

“Yeah, no problem.” 

“It was my boss.” You look at your fingers, spreading them slowly over the table top. “I’m a dancer. Sorry. I know you’re going to ask.” 

“And he hit you?” 

“Yeah.” 

Spencer knows the number for every women’s shelter in every state, but he doubts it would matter to you. He can tell already that you’d say no. He can tell you’re scared, even if you don’t realise it yourself. “Is it getting worse?”

You can’t offer him anything else. He understands how that feels. There have been moments where he desperately wanted to tell someone, anyone, what was going on in his life, but he always holds his secrets like a perpetual ache in his throat. It’s like he can’t tell someone, even if they ask. 

Sometimes he just wishes they’d ask twice. 

“You can tell me. It won’t sound stupid,” he promises. He’s in some odd place between Agent Reid and young, terrified Spencer, determined to help you, but not sure how. “It’s getting worse, right?” 

“Yeah,” you say, the weight of tears on your tongue. 

“You’re a dancer. Is he just a boss– Does he… abuse you financially?” 

You laugh wetly. “He’s not my pimp.” 

He can feel his face heating up.’“No, but do you get paid on time? Everything you earn?” 

You shake your head. “No, I don’t get paid on time. He takes a percentage, and somehow there’s always another percentage, and then discipline. And now…” 

“Now he’s hitting you.” Very badly. 

“I’m not stupid.” 

Spencer frowns gently, talks softly, “I didn’t mean to imply that you were.” 

“No, I know, but I need you to know I’m not stupid. When we talked before, you– you’re so smart, I bet you know so many smart people.” 

He’s not sure where you’re going with this. Perhaps you don’t want to talk about being hurt anymore. It must be a kind of torture to be hurting and know that that hurting will come again. There isn’t an end in sight for you, just right now. 

“Can I buy you something to eat?” 

“I have money,” you say, taking your small purse from your pocket. There are a few notes wedged inside. 

“You can’t take painkillers on an empty stomach, and you should take painkillers again soon. You had some before you came, and they’re wearing off.” He meets your confused frown with a frown of his own. “Your hands are twitching like you want to move away from yourself.” 

“You’re very perceptive,” you say in that smooth murmur. Power clawed back, he thinks. You’re protecting one of the things you can control about how you’re seen when everything else is far from it. 

“I’m a profiler. Do you,” —he tries not to sound hoity toity— “know what that is?” 

“No.” 

“I’m an FBI agent.” You’re laughing as he takes out his badge. He joins you. “I know it sounds like I’m making it up.” Spencer offers you his identification passport slowly, so you know he isn’t wielding it around to be an asshole. “I’m in the behavioural analysis unit. We analyse the way people act. That’s why I know you’re in pain.” 

You take his badge, looking between his photo and his real face with a growing smile. “If you need all that to know I’m in pain, you’re not as smart as you think,” you tease, gesturing to the mottled skin of your bruise sweetly. 

Spencer buys you both cold sandwiches from the front of the shop and a drink to wash down your aspirin. It’s awkward, he guesses, but he’s used to that by now, and under it he can feel your palpable relief. You trust him to not hurt you, if nothing else, and he can work with that. 

[starlost-mochi-x]

Hi!:) Sorry if you busy but could I ask you something? I was thinking if you could do something where you have frequent migraines and Felix is there to take care of you and comfort you. Thanks (and also I waned to say that I love your writing). Bye 😘

awww thank you TT so sweet. hehe sorry this took me so long, anon... i had this in my drafts for ages but it's here now ! here you go <3

haze - lee felix

pairing: lee felix x reader

summary: felix helps you out when you get a migraine

genre: fluff, idol! au, jisung is goofy at the start (but what's new tbh), chan is helpful (again, what's new), not proofread nyehehe, softie lix, bit angsty, reader gets migraines :(

a/n: comments, likes, reblogs appreciated <3 divider from @chilumitos

You laugh just as Jisung shovels a forkful of pasta into his mouth, grinning wildly as sauce stains the corners of his mouth. Minho slaps him on the back and Chan chides him frantically, reaching across Minho's lap to wipe sauce off Jisung's mouth. At this point, your stomach hurts from laughing so hard, a slightly painful but gleeful ache settling in the pit of your stomach. Next to your side, Felix is doing the exact same, and you both lean heavily on each other as the sound of chattering and excitable laughing fills the night air.

Felix was getting together with the boys for a night out, and had invited you along, knowing that the boys would be pleased to see you. You had gladly agreed, having nothing else to do apart from sit at home and scroll through your phone. Felix had driven the both of you to the restaurant where you were meeting the boys. Stepping out of the car, the cold, chilly air of the evening had hit you both straight in the face, and you had grinned just as the rest of the boys had come bounding up.

Jisung had tackled you in a full-blown hug, Minho and Seungmin both having to pry him off you, while Chan wrestled with Changbin's arms that were wrapped tightly around Felix. You'd been released, slightly breathless, but so, so glad to see them. Their schedules hadn't allowed for much personal time, so it was lovely to be able to sit with them under the deep gloaming of the sky and eat to your hearts' content.

It had been so long.

Finally controlling your laughter, you held onto Felix's arm to keep yourself upright, wiping away a stray tear of mirth just as Jisung choked. Chan let out a yelp, moving to Jisung's side, and Hyunjin slapped his friend harshly on the back, trying to dislodge the food.

Felix and you bent over wheezing just as Jisung cleared his airways, flipping two thumbs in the air and grinning. Your head was beginning to hurt from the laughing but you brushed it off as the rowdy group continued with the meal.

The night progressed smoothly for the next few hours, the boys talking and laughing and chattering, and you doing the exact same. Your head was beginning to throb slightly and you sipped on your drink, the iced, saccharine, carbonated drink doing nothing to ease the growing aching in your temples. Pressing your thumbs discreetly to the space under your eyes, you breathed deeply, trying to still the aching throb. When that didn't work, you dropped your hands, sighing. Guess you'd be nursing a headache for the rest of the night. You clenched the cold glass in your hand, the condensation dripping off and forming a ring on the varnished table underneath. Felix nudged you suddenly, his eyes alight with the soft, golden glow from the street fairy lights hanging overhead. His voice was soft, considering the fact he'd been pretty much yelling excitedly for most of the night.

"You okay?" he smiled, leaning down a little to peer into your eyes.

You nod mutely, not wanting to exacerbate the pain in your head, and not wanting to risk ruining the night for Felix. It'd been so long since he'd been able to just enjoy himself, no dance practices, no promotions, no fansigns or vocal lessons. Just him and his friends.

And you.

But it felt like your head had been split in half. A searing pain shot through your forehead, followed by a dull ache where the bridge of your nose met your eyelids. You clenched your fists, trying to stop a rush of frustrated tears. Why did you always have to ruin everything?

Felix, noticing your worrying lack of response, placed a reassuring, warm hand on your thigh. He leaned down a little more, eyes filled with concern and a little confusion.

"Sunflower?" he spoke lowly, just loud enough for only you to hear. "What's wrong? You look pale..." he took your hand, squeezing it lightly. You saw Minho and Hyunjin glance at you out of the corner of your eye, seemingly worried, or curious. Or both. Hyunjin looked away hastily just as Felix leaned in to kiss your forehead. Taking your hand, he stood up, and so did you, with some difficulty.

"Where are you going?" Chan said, eyebrows furrowed in concern. He looked between you and Felix, rising out of his seat a little.

"Home," was Felix's reply.

A chorus of disappointed awwws and protests arose from the group. Felix only gripped your hand tighter.

"Why?" asked Jeongin.

You collapse back into your seat, unable to stand any longer. Your ears were ringing and your knees felt weak. The fatigue had spread to every part of your body and you weren't sure if you were even going to make it home. Doubling over, you plant your forehead onto the table with a thud, groaning at the pain.

Nervous, concerned murmuring breaks out amongst the group before Chan waves them silent with a hand. You feel Felix's hand on your bicep and around your waist, Chan's forearm looping around your other arm. They both stand and begin walking down the street, where Felix parked the car. You hear him give the boys a half-hearted goodbye before he's focusing on getting you inside the car. You hear Chan murmuring before the door opens and you're back in the passenger seat, the smell of leather and Felix's favourite cologne filling your nose. You see Felix hug his friend, then Chan's hand affectionately running through your hair, then the door shuts and Felix is driving home.

The drive home feels like ages.

You balance precariously on the border between consciousness and unconsciousness, the world outside the window swirling into a blurry haze. Your head feels numb. You barely register a pair of warm, steady arms wrapping around your frame, and then suddenly, you're in bed, Felix's hand smoothing over your forehead. He tilts your head back and gives you medication, elevating your legs on a thick pillow once your restricting jeans have been gotten rid of.

You feel him gently tugging off the rest of your clothes to avoid making you overheat, and you do your best to help, but he rubs your limbs and shushes you quietly before turning the AC on and covering you with a thin, breathable blanket. It's not long before he undresses and slips into bed next to you, burrowing into the blankets the way he always does. He lets out a pleased squeak at the warmth before he turns over, his hand coming out from underneath the blanket to trace little patterns over your stomach. You feel him doodling hearts, and even through the pain, you can't help the little smile that tweaks at the corners of your mouth. You weakly reach a hand out and touch his cheek, just as you begin to fall into the deep, immuring sleep of the utterly ill and exhausted.

Felix kisses your palm, light as a feather, before tucking his head into the juncture of your neck. He murmurs something, very quietly, into the soft skin.

"I love you, sunflower."

a/n: i hate getting headaches :( just the worst

[kaisturni]

have me (let me pt. 2) | m. sturniolo

→ matt x fem!reader

→ plot; you’ve been on your own for a while, not needing or wanting the company of anyone. what happens when you meet a guy late night on the beach, and everything about him draws you in?

→ includes; making out, smut with plot, fem!oral, orgasm

→ a/n; IM SO HAPPY TO BE BACK! i missed you guys ;). anyway i got horny writing this. as always, hope you love it as much as i do! ps everyone say thank you anon!

NOT PROOFREAD!

——————————————————————————

“want t… want to go to the back?”

i can feel my ears ringing at his words. my mouth is agape, gaze bouncing between his eyes and then ultimately landing on his lips.

that’s enough for me to nod vigorously at his suggestion, and we’re both scrambling to make our way to the smooth black leather that covers his back seats.

my knees are to my chest, watching him close the door of the back seat, matt’s gaze not leaving mine.

maybe this is a bad idea.

i shouldn’t be doing this.

i shouldn’t be in the backseat of his car.

my racing thoughts are cut off by the sound of matt’s voice filling the empty space between us,

“y/n… are you okay?”

i feel embarrassed, just how i did when he first caught me staring at the beach. but i cant help it, none of this moment feels real and i keep having to remind myself that it is. my cheeks feel hot. my body feels odd.

i want his touch.

“completely fine” i manage to make out, “come here,”

he gives me a crooked smile, our bodies moving in synch, i’m sliding beneath him, my nearly bare back against his cool leather seats, and he’s crawling on top of me.

i swallow at the feeling of my heart beating out of my chest, matt’s eyes piercing into mine, head dipping down to meet mine like a magnet.

his lips are just as soft as they were on the beach; but this kiss feels different.

it feels hungry, lustful, like he’s ready to pounce and devour me at any moment.

almost instinctively, my hands find a home in his hair, and the light moan that comes from his mouth as soon as i do is enough to drive me even crazier.

matt’s hands wander, grazing over my skin so delicately in comparison to how is mouth is on mine.

it takes me by surprise; his soft touch turns rough when he squeezes my breast, and i gasp against his mouth at the feeling.

he plunges his tongue into my mouth, and i don’t stop him. with the way he kisses me, it’s hard to ignore the unmistakable burning sensation in my core, and i fully aware i’m growing wetter by the second.

what is almost hard to notice, is the string of my bikini bottom being slowly tugged undone.

matt pulls back from me abruptly, a small trail of salvia connecting our mouths for a moment.

he looks like a god; lips puffy and slick from kissing me, parted and panting, hair just about covering his eyes, and half naked in front of me.

his head comes back down to my level, but not to meet my face again. instead he’s leaving gentle kisses and nipping at the inside of my thighs, and i bring no hesitation to spread my legs further for him.

“can i?” he asks, his hand playing with the other side of my bikini, still tied; not for long though.

“god— please”

matt’s face curves into a smile for just a moment, before resuming the task of sliding off my unlaced covering.

it takes seconds for me to become hyper aware of how naked i am in front of him, his eyes not leaving my pussy.

a shaky breath escapes my lips, and i try to close my legs, but matt is quick to spread and push them up to my chest.

“hm” he lets out, with a shake of his head.

i close my eyes in anticipation, unable to control the guttural moan that comes from my mouth at the feeling of him softy sucking on my clit.

i’m latching my hand on to the head of the passenger seat, feeling like my knuckles are about to split from how hard i’m gripping it.

matt’s pace doesn’t slow down, it only speeds up, humming against my pussy every time his actions are rewarded with a moan or whine.

i wonder how he’s so good.

almost too good.

how many women has he been with before? am i just another number? another hookup? is he someone that’s just going to walk away so easily?

my thoughts are again interrupted when i feel two fingers enter me; my breathing increasing as he pumps his fingers in and out, wet noises filling the hot air in the small space we occupy.

the knots in my stomach start to twist and form, an orgasm soon to follow,

no one has ever made me cum before.

“matt— mm, s-slow down, gonna cu-“

“no,” he huffs out, head still hung near my pussy, eyes low and drunk with lust,

“i want you to cum on my fingers,”

i nod vigorously, who am i to deny that?

the speed and curl of his fingers doesn’t waver, my head becoming fuzzy when i feel my release.

he keeps going through my high, and only stops when my moans become light pants.

i sit up to look at matt; his fingers are coated in my own juices, glistening in the moonlight that creeps into the windows.

“how was that?” he asks, and i let out a light laugh at his question, he didn’t seem like the kind of guy to need reassurance for his skills.

“amazing, like— wow,” i run a hand through my head, removing the hair that has been sticking to my forehead.

matt’s eyes are closed as he’s catching his own breath, a pang of guilt stinging my chest for a second when i look down and see his bulge pressing into his shorts.

gaining confidence knowing i caused his little situation just from pleasuring me, i should really return the favor.

“you know…” i start, sitting up, moving tuck my legs under me,

“i wanna make you feel good too, matt”

with that sentence, his eyes shoot open.

his breath hitches, lips parting when his gaze flickers down to my chest, words about to leave his mouth before we’re both startled by a buzzing ringtone coming from the front seats.

i for sure know not a soul is calling me, but for him i can’t stay the same.

“shit,” he curses, grabbing his phone that’s face down on the dashboard.

i do my best to be subtle about who’s calling him at this hour, and i see a contact picture of him and and identical guy next to him,

chris. must be one of his brothers.

he mumbles a fear swears before answering the phone,

“hello…? yeah, i was just at the beach… i was on my way home actually… yeah… i’ll be there soon… bye.”

the conversation is over as quickly as it started, and a frown grows on his face when he sets his phone down to look at me,

“do you have to go?”

it almost comes out shaky— i don’t want to leave this, leave him, be alone at my place without another warm body in my company.

again.

“yeah, chris and my other brother nick are tripping about where i am. how close do you live from here?”

i sigh, but quickly compose my frown with a smile.

“about 5 minutes, it’s a quick drive”

“perfect, i’ll uh… get in the front while you change”

his eyes run down my body a final time before just barely opening the car door, leaving space for him to exit but not completely expose me to the outside; as if anyone is around.

i swallow heavily, quickly tying up my bikini back onto my body while matt is in the front, the gentle purr of the engine starts as his fingers move quickly to text, i assume chris.

this is probably the best moment to put at least minimal clothes on, and i grab my shorts from the floor of the back seat, sliding them on right before i crawl back into the passenger side.

silence.

i hate this. the air feels almost awkward while matt puts his car in reverse, making our exit into the quiet streets.

oh god. was this a mistake? does he regret what we did? is he having some kind of after sex clarity? no. we didn’t even have sex.

couldn’t get that far.

୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧

“you can turn left up here then right, and it’s that apartment complex right there” i point out, and he says nothing but delivers me a nod instead.

quickly enough, we’re at the front of my complex, and i silently grab my things, ready to open the door and bid this man of the night goodbye, when his voice finally sounds,

“can i walk you up?”

the blank expression on my face changes, and i can feel my lips curve into a smile,

“i’d like that, thank you”

“no problem,” he says, smiling as he takes my things from my hands, leaving just my keys in my lap.

i really dont want this to be over.

whether it’s a blessing or a curse, i only live on the second floor. my keys jingle in the lock of my front door before clicking open, and i see matt peek inside my apartment when i swing the door open.

“thank you, matt. this was- this was great.” i say, taking my things from him, resisting the urge to throw them aimlessly in the hallway of my home.

“it was great, and you know what?”

“you wish you could come inside?”

i wasn’t expecting to say it. i definitely was thinking it, but wasn’t sure if i was going to let that thought out.

i’ve been bold and unlike myself enough times tonight, so what’s one more thing added to the list?

i’m feeling spontaneous.

he lets out a laugh, slightly throwing his head back before looking at me and reaching a hand up to caress my face.

“that- for sure that- but, what i was going to say was, made out on the beach, you were naked in my car, i ate you out, and i don’t even have your number yet.”

my core begins to heat up again as he recounts the night, the pleasure i had experienced being absolutely unreal.

“well then you should have it, and then maybe you can come inside”

his smile grows bigger and bigger,

“hopefully that maybe turns into a ‘you should’, but put your number in my contacts,”

this time, i don’t really give a fuck about where my stuff goes at this point, i whip around and toss it, grabbing matt’s phone that he hands to me, a low laugh coming out of him,

i put in my contact, and hand it back to him,

“text me when you get home?”

“of course i will,”

his hand comes back to my face almost instinctively, and his other hand reaches to intertwine with mine.

i don’t want to wait for him to do it, so i do the honors of pressing my lips to his.

the kiss is soft and sweet, neither of us pulling apart.

remembering he has somewhere to be, i break it, but keeping my face close to his.

“i’ll see you soon, y/n”

“yes you will,”

and with that, he kisses the top of my head, starting to back away, letting our other hands stay linked until the very last moment, where he gives me a wave with the hand that just escaped mine.

i wave back, the linger of his touch still burning on my hand where it last was.

god i hope i see him again.

whenever that may be.

always with love, kaia <3

[wambsgansshoelaces]

prompt number 4 with shivvy please 😇

Honey

Prompt: “C’mere, you can sit in my lap until I’m done working.”

Siobhan Roy x Reader

summary: cuddles, baked goods, and insecurity

okay so a few things… this is my favorite fic I’ve ever written. I’m sorry that it’s so much shorter than everything else, but I’m sooo proud of it I love it so much it’s my little baby

I wrote way beyond the prompt, so I hope you don’t mind xx I was just making myself feel better haah xx

anon, thank you so much for requesting <3 I love you and I hope you love it xxx

tw for weight and eating talk. you’re beautiful, I love you, and you deserve the world, reader <3

Word Count: 1.628k

“Come on, babe, just give me another half hour.”

You’re perched on your girlfriend’s desk as she works. Shiv’s been here, at the Waystar office, since six in the morning. It’s now eleven P.M.

“You’ve been here for way too long,” you point out. She doesn’t say anything, absorbed in whatever it is she’s working on on her computer. “I wanna go home.” You pout at her, trying to earn some sympathy.

She heaves a sigh, going to type something. “Then go home.” Her voice comes out harsh, and you wince. She’s been overworking herself for weeks. You know she doesn’t mean to be snappy- it just happens to her. She gets overwhelmed, she gets frustrated, and she’s still working on being able to regulate her emotions when they’re negative. You frown at her from your spot on the corner of her desk. She stops herself, taking a short breath. “I’m sorry. I just really need to finish this stuff.” She rolls her chair closer to you and leans up, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss before going back to work.

“Love, what’re you even working on?” you ask softly, moving to hook your fingers around hers. She smiles, but keeps her eyes trained on her laptop.

“Just some campaign things. They need to be done before tomorrow afternoon, and I have meetings all morning…” She fiddles with one of the rings on your pointer finger.

“Look, do you know you really can’t wrap up now?”

“No, really, babe, I have to get this done-”

She’s interrupted by the noise you make sliding off her desk. “I’m sorry, it’s just- I’ve been here all day, Shiv. You have, too, and if you’re not going to come home with me…”

“What? You’re going? No, No.” She looks up at you, brow furrowed. “C’mere, you can sit in my lap until I’m done working.”

“Siobh-”

“Come on.”

With a sigh and dumb smile on your face, you go over and deposit yourself into her lap. She strokes up and down your thigh with one hand, reaching around you with the other. She sets her head on your shoulder and she continues to peer at whatever it is she’s doing.

You lean back into her, strangely content. You turn your head far enough to be able to kiss the side of her temple. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” she murmurs into your shirtsleeve. “You know, I like this.” Her hand shifts from your thigh to the side of your neck, her fingers hunting for a strand of hair to play with. She twists a soft lock around her fingers, pressing a lazy kiss into your shoulder.

"So, how's Weston doing?" you ask with a smirk on your face. You'd met him at one of her work parties, and she swore up and down that she had nothing to do with him. You believe her, obviously. You know she's only interested in you. But you know Weston's into her, and she's oblivious.

"He's been acting... strange lately. I think you scared him," she says, lips brushing over your neck. You laugh. You enjoy teasing her like this. You know she doesn't take it personally. She's just happy she gets to spend time with you, see you laughing, see your face split into that radiant fucking smile of yours.

"Ha! Good." You nuzzle into her, using your hips to burrow further into her lap. You can feel the heat rush through her body, her hand clamping down on your side. It's only a matter of seconds before her attention is off of you, to your dismay. "Shiv," you whine. "Enough work for the night. Please? For me?"

She lets out an airy sigh, pressing a kiss onto the back of your head, into your hair. “I’m sorry. Let’s go home.”

You take her chin and guide her mouth to yours.

She makes a satisfied noise against your lips. She tastes like honey. Honey crafted by Dionysus for one of his wines. She groans deeply when you shift in her lap, unintentionally grinding against her.

You get to your feet, Shiv following after packing up her things. Her computer bag slung over her shoulder and her hand in yours, she drags you through the parking garage. “Do you really have to go to work tomorrow?”

“What kind of question is that?” She pauses to toss her stuff into the back seat of your car while you climb into the driver’s seat. “But no. I’ll stay home. I know you have the day off.” She gives you a peck before you start driving.

God, you love staying home with her. Your life became infinitely better when you moved in with her. You were both so madly in love with one another. Life was in color when you were with you, in black and white when you weren’t.

Before she disappears into the bathroom to begin her nightly routine, she kisses you deeply. You’re sure you can get drunk off of the way she tastes alone. She tastes like pure sunlight. Like liquid gold.

She’s stressed, she has so much on her mind, so much to do. It’s getting late, but you want to do something for her. If you hurry, you think you can have your plan neatly executed before she’s inclined to go to sleep. As fast as you can, you find the spare dough from the last time you did this for her. You quickly roll everything out, shaping the cinnamon buns, and have a glaze and frosting made. You pour honey over the dough so that when you bite into the buns, the honey oozes out, warm and sweet. You dip them in the glaze and you have them in the oven under the half hour.

Shiv strolls out from the bathroom, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. God, her eyes. You can never look away from her eyes. Her silk pajamas leave most of her skin exposed- her supple thighs, her plush arms. Her hips fill out her shorts in a way that makes you embarrassingly hot and bothered. She's a goddess walking on earth unworthy of her. You want to drop everything you're doing in your life to just do whatever the fuck she asks of you. To spend the rest of your days with her. She's so fucking beautiful and you can't believe she's committed herself to you. You just love her so much. You feel so fucking lucky.

“What’s baking?” she asks, cuddling up to you on the couch. “It smells nice.” She takes your arm and puts it around her. Her cheek presses into your shoulder. She’s blinking back sleep, but she’s holding on. Anything to spend more time with you.

“Your favorite,” you murmur back.

“Are you sure? It’s late,” she says unconvincingly, looking up at you with a dreamy look on her face.

“You should treat yourself, Shivvy,” you tell her. Your expression is one loaded with affection. You hope you two never have to separate.

She kisses you quickly. “I love you.” Soon enough, your timer rings, and you get up to get the honey cinnamon buns out of the oven. She hovers over you as you set the tray on the counter. The steam swirls through the air, twirling between the two of you. Her arms wind around your waist, her head leaning into your neck. “I mean it. You’re the best human being on the planet.”

You kiss the top of her head. “You’re my girl. I’d do anything for you.”

She plants a warm kiss into the crook of your neck before grabbing a plate from the silverware cabinet. “Let’s share one!”

“Oh, uh, you can have it all,” you say quickly.

“No, you too. I can’t eat this all by myself.” She cuts the bun in half, settling both sides on the same plate so you could share. Like you always do.

“Um, I really shouldn’t be having any sugar,” you say meekly. “I’ve been gaining.” You look away, ashamed.

You’ve had issues with your body, with eating, for as long as you can remember. It was embarrassing to admit, but they started and childhood, and no matter how hard you fucking tried, they never went away. Especially as of recently.

Going to the gym, eating healthy. You did it all- or at least you thought it did. But you suppose not, because you were worse off than you started.

“Baby,” Shiv says incredulously. “Gaining? Where? If anything, it’s muscle.” She nudges you with her hip. She can tell when things run deep. This is one of them. “Come on. You can’t actually think you need to lose weight.” When you don’t say anything, she presses on. “Is this a self confidence thing? You’re literally the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen in my life. You’re hips are the sexiest thing-”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, let’s just eat?”

“No, no, I’m solving this issue,” she insists. “I don’t care if you’re a little chubby- which you’re not -because that doesn’t mean anything. You’re healthy, you’re a smoke show, so what’s it fucking matter?”

She drops the knife she was waving around while she spoke, instead coming over to smooth her hands over your jaw and give you a nice, long kiss. She pulls away and presses a fat kiss to the spot just above your belly button.

The two of you eat together, you albeit hesitantly, but she urges you on. You’re glad you have her. She’s everything to you, and you’re everything to her.

When you kiss her the last time for the night, she tastes of what you imagine the rest of your life with her is going to look like.

Honey, pure sunlight, liquid fucking gold.

[spider-stark]

Anti-Hero // Hero x Villain Trope // pt. 1 //

Next Part

Summary - Reader and Peter are both living double lives. Spider-Man is considered a national hero, while the reader is viewed as a criminal. In their personal lives, they're both head over heels for one another, their friendship finally blossoming into something more. But as vigilantes? It's complicated.

a/n - A very sweet anon requested a hero x villain trope with Peter or another Marvel character, and after being bored at work for several hours, I ended up playing around with the idea. I decided to split it into two parts because I'm still toying around with the next half, so let me know what you think. :) And thank you anon for the request!

If there was anything in this world that Jonah J. Jameson loved, it was finding new ways to prove to the public that Spider-Man was a menace to society. More than that, he loved having photographic evidence of Spider-Man’s failings, which is exactly what New York’s latest crime-doer had been giving him.

Some random New Yorker had started an Instagram live just a few days back right after spotting Spider-Man leap onto the rooftop of the citizens apartment complex, and right on his heels was the most recent villain—one who had become the suspect of countless armed robberies as of late.

This footage was the first live-action clear shot that anyone had managed to get of the mysterious individual that now plagued the streets of Queens, and everyone wanted their hands on an exclusive with the boy that saw them first-hand.

“Now, tell me, what did they look like up close?” Jameson questioned the boy, leaning so far forward on his chair that it looked like he could slip out and hit the floor at any second.

The boy was glancing around the studio in pure amazement, clearly relishing his time in the spotlight. “Uh, well, they were dressed in all black. Like, black shoes, blank pants, even this weird black mask that covered their entire head! Literally just like all the victims have described so far—they’re like a shadow!”

He was beyond excited, talking about the person that had thieved and pretty much brutalized over a dozen people in the last month. He spoke like he had just spotted a celebrity, rather than a criminal. The severity of the situation went right over his head, and Jameson gritted his teeth at the fanboy before pressing on.

“And what were they doing on the roof of your home?”

“Chasing each other!” He might as well have squealed from joy, his eyes looking directly into the camera as he spoke rather than Jameson.

Jameson edged closer, his ass just barely touching the seat at this point, “So Spider-Man was going after the assailant?”

“Oh, God no!” The boy laughed as he said it, leaning back in his own seat to try and create some distance from Jameson, who was violating his personal space more with each second. “They were chasing him! By the end of it, Spider-Man could barely catch his breath. I think that’s why they were able to escape!”

Jameson’s brows snapped together, processing the information and prepping his next question. “So they were able to outmaneuver him? Outpower him, even! Tell me, as someone who got to see this as it unfolded, do you think it’s possible that this new man also has powers?”

“I’m not sure.” The boy answered truthfully, seemingly thinking back on the occurrence. “They were definitely fast, and super strong, so maybe! And those knives—” The look on his face was practically orgasmic, as if the sheer thought of the villains power had him bursting at the seams. “They might as well be a part of her! She never missed—not once! Superpowers or not, she knows what she’s doing.”

Jameson’s jaw fell open, practically touching the dirty rug that laid across his studio floor. “I’m sorry, did you say she?”

The boy nodded rapidly. “Yeah! It’s kind of hard to see in the video, but I told the police in my report that it was definitely a girl! I was hoping it would show up better on camera, but you can tell by their build it’s a woman. And God, her ass–”

“You heard it here first, folks!” Jameson quickly cut the boy off, throwing a sharp glare in his direction that had him immediately shutting his mouth, cheeks turning red. “Spider-Man not only let the assailant involved in countless crimes get away, but he also lost to a girl that might not even have superpowers!”

Behind the scenes Jameson could see his publicist making an X motion with her hands, trying to get him to shut his mouth before he made any further sexist comments. He ignored them, mostly.

“In my opinion, Spider-Man is no better than the rest of those animals. New York has placed him on a pedestal, bestowed upon him the title of ‘hero’, and yet he can’t even catch a girl with a pocket knife?” Jameson scoffed at the camera, shaking his head. “He’s nothing more than a fraud, a feckless, treacherous, unhinged menace!”

After seeing the interview, Peter had wanted nothing more than to throw away his entire television set and never check news headlines ever again. He had been trying so hard—unnecessarily hard—to catch you, and yet despite his best efforts, you always slipped right out of his grasp.

“Seem a little off your game, Spidey!” Your chipper voice rang through the empty alleyway they had found themselves in. Your tone was so steady, so even, as if you hadn’t even broken a sweat during their fight. Peter, on the other hand, was practically gasping at this point. “Still upset cause that idiot from the Bugle called you out on being weaker than a girl.”

He could practically feel you roll your eyes at the word, letting the taunt roll off your tongue despite being just as annoyed by Jameson’s comment. It felt like a cheap stab at both of you, and it annoyed you just as much as it did him.

“I’m getting really tired of you.” Peter huffed, desperately trying to make himself sound as composed as you did, trying not to show his exhaustion. How were you so damn fast? “Not only are you destroying the city, but now you’re dragging my name through the mud too?”

You shrugged your shoulders before slipping another knife out of the holster on your upper thigh, “Well, if you’re so tired of me, then why don’t you try to catch me for once?”

He narrowed his eyes, the white of his Stark Tech suit mimicking the expression. You were just a few feet away from him, and you had practically backed yourself into a corner by darting into this alley, nothing but a brick wall behind your back.

“That’s the plan.” He snidely remarked, taking a sharp inhale of breath before darting straight towards you, webs shooting from his wrists as he tried to pin you in place.

Miss, miss, miss.

The words chanted in his head, playing on a loop as you repeatedly dogged the webbing he shot at you, as if you always knew exactly where they were gonna land. This is impossible, he thought to himself, his irritation growing more and more.

Once he was close enough he took a swing at you, his webs rendered practically useless due to your keen senses helping you dodge them each and every time. With just centimeters between your face and his fist, you ducked, giggling to yourself as you heard his knuckles collide with the brick wall.

A series of obscenities fell from him lips, and you took this small window of opportunity to slip past his leg and get behind him, swiftly using one hand—the one that wasn’t holding a knife—to grab his arms and bring them behind his back.

“That looked like it hurt.” You came in close, so close that Peter could feel your breath brushing against his covered ear. He didn’t like the sensation, the way his body betrayed him by his knees going weak at the sound of your voice purring in his ear. “Did it?”

Peter didn’t respond, afraid that words would fail him if he tried, and instead just grunted as he went to rip his arms from your grasp to spin himself around so he was facing you.

Despite your quickness and impressive strength, he was still stronger than you. But as his left arm slipped from your grasp, you swiftly brought your other hand up and let the thick metal of the knife slice across his suit, tearing the fabric and digging into his flesh.

Peter hissed at the sensation, his hand immediately flying up to apply pressure to the wound. It was a deep cut, one that could potentially cause fatal blood loss in the average person, but Peter was not the average person, and you knew that much. He would heal, quicker than you wanted him to.

“Too slow.” You grinned at him beneath your mask, he could hear it in your tone. “Sorry to break it to you, but our fun is gonna have to end here for now, mkay? I’ve got big plans later, don’t wanna be late!”

“You’re not going anywhere.” Peter growled, his rage towards you finally building to a lethal point. He never lost control, not with any villain, but you always made it so hard to keep composed.

He took a step forward, but staggered a bit. It felt like his legs weighed thousands of pounds, like he was carrying a load of bricks. His gaze shifted back to you, squinting as his vision began going blurry. “What did you do?”

You lifted your shoulder in a half shrug, watching as he stumbled against the wall, using it to hold up his weight. “You know what botulinum is, right?” You paused, pointing your knife in his direction, waiting for an answer he couldn’t get out of his mouth as he fell towards the ground. “Guess not. Well, it’s essentially just botox. The lethal dose is around 2.1kg for the normal human, and you’re obviously not normal. So I decided to triple it!”

Peter’s eyes widened as the words rang through his ears, his muscles suddenly feeling stiffer, more difficult to move. His arms were locking up, unable to move from where they laid at his sides.

“Oh don’t give me that look.” You frowned at him, holstering the knife you had used on him now that he was struggling to move. “I haven’t killed anyone before, have I? Injured, maybe, but I’ve never killed. I’m certainly not gonna change that by killing New York’s savior, alright? It’s just gonna paralyze you for a bit, maybe knock you out for a while. That’s why I led you here!”You motioned to the dank alleyway.

“No one comes down here, so you should be safe until you recover. You’ll be back on your feet in like an hour—two, at most!” There was a pause as you scrunch your nose up a bit, a gesture just barely evident through your mask. “That is if I estimated the dosage right. Kind of hard to tell when I’m not sure what all that radioactive spider did to your body, ya know?”

You took a few steps back, beginning to move yourself back towards the street. Once you turned your back on him, you shot him one last smile over your shoulder. “Anyways, I’ve gotta hit the road. See ya next time, Spider-Boy.”

Peter tried to scream, tried to move, tried to do anything—but his body failed him entirely, forcing him to do nothing but lay against the cold, damp brick pressing into his back and watch you leave.

He was definitely gonna be late for his date with Y/N.

a/n - A very sweet anon requested a hero x villain trope with Peter or another Marvel character, and after being bored at work for several hours, I ended up playing around with the idea. I decided to split it into two parts because I'm still toying around with the next half, so let me know what you think. :) And thank you anon for the request!

[delcakoo]

彡 compromise. - p.sh

requested for 1k au event!

SUMMARY ! being roomates with the biggest (and hottest) slacker on campus was difficult to say the least. plates left on the counter, clothes from him and the girl’s he brings over left in the living room, the list goes on. one day after you’ve had enough of his uncleanliness, sunghoon offers you to be his girlfriend in exchange for a tidy, mess-free apartment. totally not worth it.. right?

PAIRING ! roommate!sunghoon x f!reader

WC ! 2.1k

GENRE ! roomates au, fake dating, fluff (?) and lots of banter

WARNINGS ! slight suggestive, making out, sunghoon being a bit too confident for his own good

a/n: woohooo first fic for the event done! thank you for requesting anon! <3

if you go into the living room and find another one of park sunghoon’s socks on your couch, you might just explode.

you take a deep breath in, and out. the moment of truth. you slam open the door to your sunghoon-proof bedroom, taking quick paces towards the living room and—

there it is.

a sad, lonely sock without it’s matching pair laid on your couch. you knew it.

park sunghoon. one of the most sought after guys on campus, yet it was only his first year of college.

meanwhile, it was your third. so how you became roommates with him? one, tragic answer: you were broke and desperate for someone to split rent with after a few.. unfortunate incidents with your past roommates.

sunghoon wasn’t a bad person. he did little things like pick up your forgotten mail, or turn on your coffee machine while you got ready in the bathroom. though, you'd still say he ranked number one on your list of the worst roommates you’ve ever had.

he was lazy, irresponsible, and oh so messy. 80% of the time, while you were busy being productive and studying, he was busy tackling people with a ball under his arm or in the middle of coaxing some girl to come home with him after partying all night (which didn’t take much effort on his part considering that face of his).

now, you weren’t a hater. sunghoon got into this university with his talent for football alone, so props to him for.. catching balls. honestly, if he wasn’t the way he was, you’d probably fall for his handsome charms yourself. but when his annoying, mosquito-like presence decided to intervene with the peaceful sanctuary that was once your neat and homely apartment, all wrath was destined to come out of you at some point.

for a while, you were nice enough to clean up after the younger boy, making pathetic excuses for him in your head in an effort to be a kind, forgiving roomate.

but after a month of dealing with his unwashed plates left on the counter, clothes scattered around the living room from not only him but also the girls he brings over, and all in all his untidiness everyday, you’ve finally snapped.

this feeling of undeniable rage may partially be because of how stressed you are from all the new assignments and lack of coffee, but you’ve never felt more ready for confrontation by the time you’ve reached sunghoon’s bedroom door.

you offer two passive aggressive knocks, not even waiting for a reply before yanking the door open. “look sunghoon— we have to talk.”

nobody.

you take a few cautious steps inside his disarrayed bedroom, nose wrinkling at the sight of a mountain of clothes near his bed despite a closet being a few steps over. there’s random magazines and papers scattered across the floor, along with an unkempt stash of trinkets thrown on top of his drawer. you glance at his closet, half opened and containing only about two jackets actually hung up on racks.

“woah, never thought i’d find the campus nun snooping around my bedroom.” you whip your head around to find a shirtless sunghoon staring down at you, toothbrush perkily sticking out of his mouth. his muscled biceps flex as he crosses his arms, raising a curious brow at the sock pinched between your nails.

your eyes bulge at the sight of his bare, sculpted torso, turning around with a tint of red rushing to your ears. “just because i don’t spend every night getting wasted doesn’t make me a nun, nor was i snooping,” you spit defensively.

sunghoon chuckles, padding across his room to pick up a random top off his shirt mountain. “says the girl who just covered her eyes like she’s never seen a shirtless guy before.” he smirks, glancing down at your childish bear printed pajamas. “i mean — not that i think you have.”

you spin back around, huffing in relief now that he was dressed and pointing to the sock in your hand. “shut up, i’m only here to listen to your amazing explanation on why i keep finding socks and other assortments of clothing all over the living— hey! don’t walk away when i’m talking to you!”

you frustratedly discard the sock somewhere on his bed, following your roommate back out to where he’s now rummaging through the kitchen pantry, toothbrush long forgotten on the sink’s rim. you take another deep breath, trying to stay calm. “sunghoon,” you begin.

“yeah, pretty girl?” your eye twitches in disbelief, hating the way butterflies flutter through your stomach from the nickname he’s always called you.

“i told you, don’t fucking call me that. now listen here,” you try to look stern, but sunghoon personally believes you look adorable. “i’ve been dealing with your bullshit all month without a single complaint,” you rant, watching as he pulls out a box of cinnamon toast crunch. “do you ever wonder how all those plates and bowls you leave in the sink magically disappear? yeah, well, that was me slaving my ass away like your personal housemaid!”

your roomate is completely unphased by your vent, too busy pouring his cereal into an empty bowl with a shrug. “nobody told you to clean those for me.”

moments like these made you question how you’ve dealt with the bastard for a whole month.

“if i don’t, they begin piling up into a jenga tower,” you fire back with a scoff, “similar to the wonderful sorting technique used in your bedroom.”

unbelievably, the boy giggles at that, taking a seat at the counter with his late night snack. “y’know, you’re pretty funny when you’re not locked up in your room all day.” your jaw tightens, snatching the milk away right as your roomate reaches out for it. he looks at you as if you just committed a crime, lips turning into a defeated (but adorable) pout. “hey, i’m trying to have cereal here.”

“sunghoon,” you snarl once more, holding the carton above his head like a parent would with a child’s toy.

“what?” he whines.

“if you don’t start doing shit around here, i’m kicking you out.”

instead of a dramatic gasp or begs for mercy and forgiveness like you’d hoped for, he snickers, pouncing up like a cat and snatching the milk back out of your grip. “yeah, right. as if you could afford this apartment by yourself.”

silence (besides the sound of sunghoon chewing his cinnamon toast crunch).

out of the corner of his eye, sunghoon sees your face drop in utter defeat. you look close to the verge of tears, knuckles turning white by your sides. yes, he may be a jerk sometimes, but he wasn’t that evil. his eyes softened slightly, letting out a thoughtful sigh as he munched on his spoonful of cereal.

suddenly, a lightbulb appears atop his head, smirking brilliantly. “okay, being the handsome genius i am, i’ve come up with an offer — a compromise, you could say.”

you didn’t know your roommate that well considering it’s only been a month since you’ve met, but you were confident that any ideas his pea-sized brain came up with weren’t going to be very good ones in your favor. you offer him a raise of your brow, gesturing for him to continue.

dropping his silver spoon back into the bowl, sunghoon rests his elbows up on the counter. “in exchange for ‘doing shit around here’, you have to be my girlfriend.”

you choke on your saliva, giving him a dumbfounded expression. “what!?”

“hear me out!” he quickly defends, “my parents are planning to set me up with this weird, artsy church girl, and i just can’t allow that to happen for my reputation sake. you’re my only hope, pretty.”

“first of all, you were basically calling me a nerd a few minutes ago, so i don’t see how i’d be any better than her. and what exactly would i have to do as your fake girlfriend— if i metaphorically took you up on this deal?”

sunghoon ignores the first half of your statement with no explanation. “well, probably have dinner with my family every once in a while, hold my hand, kiss me-“

you stumble slightly. “woah, woah- what?! why would we kiss in front of your parents?” you inquire stressfully, the thought of kissing sunghoon making your heart beat much faster than it should.

though honestly, this compromise sounded like a win-win in your book. finally, no more socks found on the couch or plate mountains in your sink, and getting to fake date park sunghoon along the way? you make sure not to give in just yet — you don’t need the guy’s ego skyrocketing any higher than it was — but you were feeling pretty great.

“to prove we’re serious, duh.” sunghoon rolls his eyes at your question, suddenly turning in the barstool to face you. “c’mon, let’s practise now.”

huh? wait, practise what?

does he mean—

you step away from the counter nervously, only to be pulled back by sunghoon’s grip on your wrist. he has a barely noticeable, smug smirk on his face at your sudden nervousness, grasping your hand tightly in his bigger one. “hey, i never said yes to the deal yet,” you gulp.

taking a leap of faith, sunghoon leans further in, his pointy nose touching yours. his breath tickles your lips, and you hate the way his closeness affects you. now you understand why no girl on campus could resist him; it was seemingly impossible.

“why not, baby? are you scared of having to kiss me? is that why you don’t want to say yes?” he teases, reaching his free hand up to softly run a thumb along your plush lips. for some reason, you don’t move away from his surprisingly gentle touch.

“n-no. i’m not scared of you, sunghoon.”

his smirk deepens in pure amusement. “then kiss me,” he encourages, calmly waiting for you to make the first move.

you take one last look at him. his slightly disheveled hair, the moles scattered perfectly along his features even more delicate up close. down to his curved nose, rubbing against the tip of yours affectionately. and lastly, his enchanting pink lips, just begging to be kissed by you.

so you do. before you can stop yourself, you’re kissing park sunghoon. the boy you were just scolding for his constant messes. the boy who was known and loved by your whole college, his reputation lying at the highest amongst everyone’s standards.

but it didn’t matter, in that moment, he was just sunghoon, your lazy, ridiculously hot roommate.

sunghoon finally frees your wrist, allowing you to reach up and rest your arms around his shoulders. to no surprise, he’s definitely the best kiss you’ve ever had, full of experience and confidence. the taste of cinnamon toast crunch runs through your senses, only furthering as he runs a tongue along your bottom lip, begging for entrance.

feeling playful, you refuse, making sunghoon grunt in annoyance. he pulls away for a second to glare at you. “that’s how you wanna be, huh? let me show you who’s in charge around here, then.”

before you can ponder on what that meant, his lips are back on yours more fierce than ever, standing up from his seat to force you right against the counter.

as you try to get comfortable in the new position, he harshly pinches your side. in a moment of surprise at his attack, you gasp, lips parting and giving sunghoon the perfect opportunity to force his tongue right into your mouth and explore every crevice of you.

it’s hard to keep up with sunghoon, he was much too intense for you. so you gently push him away, catching your breath hastily. when you finally look up at him, his lips are swollen, slightly wet and chapped.

it seems he understands that you want to stop here, so he moves back, giving you some space. “i.. i came here to scold you about your socks. how did this happen?” you ask to mostly yourself.

“my charms are irresistible.” sunghoon lets out a laugh, walking backwards towards his bedroom. “so, starting tomorrow you’re my girlfriend, okay pretty girl?”

still trying to calm your racing heart, you offer a small, defeated glance to your roommate. “yeah, whatever, pretty boy.” he smiles brightly at his newly earned nickname, turning around before closing his bedroom door for the night.

with a sigh, you glance back around only to find sunghoon’s half eaten bowl of cinnamon toast crunch, soggy and abandoned on the counter.

this deal wasn’t going to change anything, was it?

if you enjoyed, reblogs n’ comments are always appreciated and motivating!

© delcakoo on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not rewrite, cross-post, translate, copy, etc.

perm taglist: @duolingofanaccount @strawberry-sunset-skies @scented-morker @koshinene @boowoowho @sultrybaby @yunjinlvrr

[loving-strawberry]

✶Comforting Hyunjin after coming back from the Versace Event✶

Summary: Hyunjin arrives home feeling insecured because of Versace event, and you are there to comfort him. It was a request!

A little note: Hey, anon! The request was adorable!!! I hope you like how it turned out tho!

Warning: Mention of insecurities. Maybe some writing errors.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort. Fluff

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Reader

You arrived at the airport, since a half hour ago, to wait for your boyfriend so you could drive him back to your shared house. As you're waiting, you could see the crowd of fans getting all excited and gathering in one place, screaming and shouting. That's a sign that he finally arrived.

Hyunjin was away for some time now, being invited to a Versace event in Cannes, with other celebrities. And now he's finally coming back home.

His bodyguard and manager split the crowd of crazy fans to let Hyunjin make his way out of the airport.

Taking a look at your boyfriend's face, even from distance, you could see that something is wrong. You two made eye contact as he started going straight to your car, and his eyes definitely confirmed that he's not ok.

Hyunjin gets in the car and smiles a bit in your direction. "Hello, my beauty. I missed you so much..." he says, while taking you in his arms, to embrace you tight. It almost feels like he's doing so for his own comfort this time.

"Missed you too, Jinnie." you return the embrace, without questioning anything for now. It's better to talk things later, at home.

.............................

"Did something happened?" you ask as soon as you got home. Hyunjin is trying to unpack his bags, but he's taking by surprise with your question.

"You know me that well, huh?" his eyes looking at the floor, and an unsettling feeling gets you.

"Hyun... My love... What's wrong?" taking his face in your hands, so you could make eye contact and try to find out what's bothering him.

He couldn't speak anymore, as you interrupted him by placing soft kisses on his lips and all over his face, wiping his tears away with your lips, and making him giggle a little. "Honey, I'm sure you did a great job with everything."

"I don't think I am good enough..." before you could question anything further, he continues speaking, as some tears start forming in the corner of his eyes "I felt insecured the whole time there... My English isn't the best... I was constantly afraid that I may something stupid. Or I'll forget a word. Or I'll do any kind of mistakes... And beside that... What if my outfit didn't looked good on me...? I saw all those people, celebrities knowing how to wear their outfits, everyone looked perfect... And I felt-"

"How could you know? You weren't there..." he stops giggling and another pout takes over his plump lips.

"I just know it. Your English improved so much and I couldn't be more proud of you. You are amazing already!" starting and kissing his lips a few times again, to make Hyunjin's little pout vanish, you continue "And have you ever seen yourself wearing... anything??? You look stunning in everything you wear! I saw the pictures with you wearing that Versace costume. You looked absolutely perfect in it!"

"Oh my god... Stop..." he says in embarrassed. Of course your boyfriend wouldn't want you to stop complimenting anything he does, but also he couldn't handle it.

"You are so cute." at this point, Hyunjin is burying his face into your shoulder, to hide the fact that he's blushing.

His arms circle your waist and pulls your body against his, hugging you tightly to his chest, not wanting to let go of you. "Thank you... I feel a lot better now... I love you so much"

"You don't have to thank me. I was just saying the truth, my love. And I love you more"

Finally hugging him back, you two stood in that position for a long while.

You always know how to make him feel better, and Hyunjin is forever grateful for having you. You are his source of strength after all.

.............................

✧ Masterlist ✧

✧ Tag List ✧

@bangchansbae @tattywood @nebulousbrainsoup @https-skzology @sp00ky-spr1te

[lfghughes]

Half My Fault

a/n: hahaha why am i such a simp for these kind of storylines. Also thank you to the anon who requested this. Peep that John ft though, i had to

You had met Nico years ago through a mutual friend and by that you meant you had dated one of his friends. You were all in the same friend group and over the years you had become close to Nico, he had been someone you had come to trust and he genuinely became one of your friends. When you and your boyfriend ended up splitting it rocked the friend group, many of them choosing him in the break up but Nico didn’t play that game. He continued being friends with him but also you.

Your friendship with each other had only grown after that, now you two were spending a lot of time on your own versus being in a group. Then one night things had escalated slightly to a point where you realized there were shared feelings. What you didn’t want was for Nico to lose his friendship with his friend because of this and he also was conflicted about the whole situation so you both decided it was better to remain as friends.

Even though this was decided everyone still thought there was something more there with the way you two acted. You never crossed the line with one another but you were both affectionate. His hand usually finding your lower back when he was walking through crowds with you. Snuggling on your couch or his while watching a movie. But there were never any more kisses or anything past just that.

It worked but slowly over the past few weeks you had noticed Nico distancing himself a little bit and before one of his games you came to learn why. He had stopped by your place after his practice and invited you to his game later. “By the way, I’ve been seeing someone. She’s going to be there tonight too. It’s her first time but I figured you could kind of hang out and show her around so she doesn’t get too overwhelmed.” You smiled and nodded your head at him but there was a dull pain in your heart from his words.

Nico had gotten you both seats close to the tunnel they came out of and you were trying your best in talking to the girl he had been seeing but it was hard. You knew you had no right to be upset or jealous but you were. The game came and went and you were proud of your best friend for playing a good, so much so that he won first star of the night but you saw the way he looked up at her. The way he winked at her as he walked out to the ice and you were sick to your stomach.

Yet you still held yourself together as you showed her where he would be after the game. You felt like you were out of your body, just wanting to be home so you could cry about all of it but you needed to act normal. When Nico came out, he hugged you and then moved on to her before you all walked outside to the parking lot. His arm remained around her as you watched all the little things he did so naturally. The way he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, the way he smiled down at her.

“Hey, we’re all going out for some drinks, want to come? You can ride with us.” Nico told you, turning around to look at you but you shook your head. “It’s kind of late, I’m tired so I’m going to go home.” Before he could try to convince you otherwise you started walking the opposite way back to your car. You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t even see Marino until you crashed into him. “Oh sorry..” You started and he shook off your apology. “It’s okay.” John told you and then his eyebrows furrowed a little. “Are you not going with Nico? We’re all going out.” 

“I don’t feel good, I just need to get home.” A look of concern passed his face as he pointed back at his car. “I can drive you home real quick if you want.” You shook your head at his offer “I have my car it’s fine.” But he was clearly worried about you and wouldn’t drop it. “I can pick you up tomorrow and come get it with you but I don’t think you should drive home if you’re not feeling good. Trust me, I’ll hate if I let you go and something happens.” 

You ended up agreeing with him because you were barely thinking already and so maybe this was the safest option. He dropped you off at your place and you immediately curled up on the couch in the comfort of all your blankets. A hour had probably passed since John had dropped you off when you heard the doorbell ring. Checking your camera because it was late you saw that it was just Nico so you went and opened the door. “What are you doing here?” You asked and he looked at you like it was a ridiculous question.

“You told me you were tired but John told me at the bar he drove you home because you weren’t feeling good. He said he was really worried about you. What happened?” Of course John had expressed his concern, why wouldn’t he? “It’s nothing. I just didn’t drink a lot of water.” Nico knew these were all excuses and he showed it clearly on his face. “This is because I’m seeing someone, isn’t?” Silence was all he got from you.

“That’s not fair, you decided we shouldn’t be something more and you can’t get upset when I find someone.” You held up your hand, stopping him from going on. “We decided not me.” Last you had checked this was something he had agreed to. “I agreed with you because it’s what you wanted but I could care less about what he thinks of me because I’m in love with you.” Silence filled the air between you again, shock at his words.

You closed the space off between the two of you and pressed your lips to his, his hands going to the sides of your face and holding you there. The kiss proving everything he just said and so much more. This felt right, more right than you could have imagined. You pulled away slightly, looking at him. “What about the girl from tonight?” You asked and he scratched the back of his head. “The minute John said something was wrong I went back to her and broke things off. She’s not you.”

[johnslittlespoon]

okay listen feral bikerider gale/past catching up to him/etc etc etc anon here and can I just say. thank you. I’m not overly interested in the actual violence or gang-shit or whatever. when I first read about the bikerider au all I could think about was sons of anarchy (idk if you’ve watched it, but I watched three seasons with my dad and it’s all just. gang conflict after gang conflict after gang conflict with some romance sprinkled on top and that’s not. really my thing) and I was not into it. at all. then your yapping (affectionate) converted me. hearing that it won’t be all weapon smuggling and, idk, drugs or smth is actually so reassuring lol

and!!! obviously it’s your fic/au, I’m definitely not here to try to influence you in any way whatsoever!!! I’m super excited to read it no matter what because your writing is just. lovely. I check in pretty much every morning like I’m reading the papers lmao

doing something semi-stupid in your past feels like kind of on brand for everyone, even though it might not be illegal for most. and maybe it wasn’t illegal for Gale, either, bro I am not a very good writer, I’ll leave the plotting to someone else.

but I’ll always love the idea of Gale being a little feral. or a lot feral. like John getting hurt in a bikerider au tickles my brain the same way John punching a German guard in canon centric fics does. Nevermind the guard, I just need the fallout. the angsty fallout.

John and Gale coming back home, and Gale sitting him down in the bathroom to very, very carefully patch him up (and, listen, the other guys probably just roughed him up a little. he probably got away with minor bruises and some scrapes), and Gale being insanely worried that he has scared John. John on the other hand is worried for Gale, because what if it happens again? What if the police finds out? John being worried that he somehow messed up.

and, don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t mind reading feral gale beating the shit out of people. It’s just not something I want to read a full fic of.

finally, because I just need to add this, too: Gale’s knuckles being split and bleeding and John so very carefully cleaning them up, pressing gentle kisses to the cuts when he has to scrape the dried blood up to get it properly clean. Gale not being sure what he did to deserve John, being so sweet and gentle and caring.

okay, over and out 🫡 sorry for not being that clear in the other ask, I blame. idk, sleep deprivation. and sorry for making this so long, idk what I’m on about half the time and my meds are doing shit to my brain. I love your blog and your writing just. makes my fucking days. I’d wait forever for the next chapter of dog coded Bucky ❤️

YIPPIEE more leaving!bikeriders au >:) hii i meant to get back to this SO long ago, feels like good timing now with the bikeriders theatre day approaching! i'm assuming you're the anon from this post <3

i have THOUGHTS. aka this got lengthy oops, shocker. a bit of plotting and then like 2k words of drabble below the cut lmfaoo

the proper drabble will be further down, but first of all, very big agree!! and relieved i'm not the only one who feels this way omg. i haven't watched SOA for this reason specifically– i just don't have much interest in the conflict/violence–heavy plot stuff (which is ironic considering i'm excited for the bikeriders movie, but i think it's pretty clear that's because of the lovely cast lol since i don't care for bikes/cars in the slightest oops). HONOURED that my yapping converted you tho LOL i swear if something is character focussed, it can make 99% of topics at least somewhat appealing!

and please don't worry omg i don't feel influenced/pressured etc, i loveee bouncing ideas and brainrot back and forth for my aus, it's sm fun and i love trying to incorporate things other people like/suggest when i can!! <3 but omg i will weep thank you so much wtf?? :'))

for sure; even the most stoic/'put together' characters surely have done some not very bright things in their lives. i'm toying with a couple backstories for gale to establish what might catch up to him or cause conflict, but i'm gonna wait to decide until i see the movie because i have a feeling i'll get some good inspo from benny's story!

honestly it's the part i'll have to put the most effort into really thinking out in terms of plot to make it flow naturally, because all the relationship focussed things kinda write themselves as i brainrot. but i'm 99% sure i'm gonna write the fic from john's pov because it'll keep a lot of gale a mystery to the readers as well, and therefore save me from having to flesh out certain things until necessary lmfaoo

and yeah!! it's not always the events themselves that hit the hardest– it's the fact that the character could be feral enough for them to happen in the first place, and it's the outcome/fallout that's most fun to write/read (to me).

feral gale is so fun to explore in general because of how different it is to most of what we're shown of him in mota, so it's like a challenge to keep him feeling in character while also picking out the little parts of him that could be pushed to be that way. and of course the classic whump of the one person gale cares about and tries so hard to protect getting hurt because of him? endless angst possibilities.

i dig what you said, about john 'just' being roughed up a little, because i think with whatever backstory i end up forming, it's not like the 'bad guys' are gonna be some mastermind criminals extorting gale for something life or death lol. it's probably gonna be a bunch of rough and tumble biker men with some long lasting beef between their clubs, hitting gale where they know it'll hurt the worst: a loved one.

i bet you anything (depending on how plotting goes LOL) that they don't actually even intend to mess john up to the extent they do; i bet john runs his mouth and makes some sorta escape attempt because as terrified as he is, all he can think about is how gale's gonna obviously track him down and he's more worried about what the guys are planning to do to gale when he shows up. in his naive mind, if he can get out and get to a phone or something, he can stop everything.

ofc the escape attempt is futile because it's one gangly college kid vs a couple of grown ass men, and john gets banged up in the process, seeing as being tackled to the ground with your wrists bound behind your back doesn't leave you with anything to protect your face from concrete with, and maybe then he gets a solid fist to the face to scare him out of pulling anymore shit (it sure works).

and just the act of taking john/putting him danger alone would have gale ready to wring these men out by their necks, but when he shows up and sees his baby bleeding? and he can't tell how bad he's hurt, from where he's lurking around the corner scoping out the situation? he'd see red and be pretty dang close to saying fuck it and going in there without a plan, but the fear of john getting hurt in the process would stop him, and he doesn't feel like going down for murder.

somehow he picks off the guys one by one with a generous amount of flying fists and y'know, maybe a bit of knife–work if necessary, idk, future plotting lol, and tells them they're good as dead if they pull anything like this again. that the club will be keeping an eye out for them, that they're a buncha cowards, and they can come talk to him face to face like men, next time. you get it.

and then finally, obligatory wound care ofc <3 easily top three tropes ever ugh. gale gets john the fuck out of there and to the safety of his truck, methodical and vigilant, and only then does his guarded expression drop, and his hands are shaking just as hard as john's are when he cups john's face in his hands to look him over. john gives him a shell–shocked "'m fine, gale" and hates how guilty gale looks, because there's not even the tiniest part of john that blames gale for any of it; john knew what he was getting into (to an extent) with gale.

but regardless, gale's shaken up, terrified by how much worse things could've gone and how much danger john could've been in, but also terrified of how deeply he feels for john; probably some backstory there about gale seeing someone he loved get hurt, or almost get hurt, swearing he'd never bring someone into his life again because of it, etc, and then in waltzes stubborn, loud–mouthed john egan.

but selfishly (or what he feels is selfish), gale's also terrified that this might be the final nail in the coffin for john. he knows he's not the easiest to be with (even though john thinks the exact same thing about himself lol silly boys) and he knows john's more patient than he deserves, and could find someone his own age with a normal life in a heartbeat with his sweet disposition and charming pretty boy looks. and he knows john's well within his rights to walk away from their relationship now, to be scared of the future, to decide it's too much, and part of gale would be relieved to not have to worry, even if he'd miss john like he's lost half of himself.

it's real quiet when they're back home and john's sitting on the bathroom counter, gale between his legs, patching up his face so so gently, as if each brush of a cotton swab is an apology. both of them have lots to say but neither know how to say it; john hates knowing gale's probably shouldering all the blame and he doesn't know how to reassure him in a way that'll get through to him, but he can't handle the silence. probably makes a weak joke about how "y'shoulda seen the other guy" and doesn't even get a smile out of gale.

ends up wrapping his legs around gale's hips to pull him closer but just gets a huffed out, frustrated "john" as gale swats his ankles away, and it's not that john's trying to make light of what happened, he just doesn't know how to talk about something like that, regardless of how good he and gale have gotten at communicating.

john probably gets a bit frustrated, because gale’s already so protective over him as is, which he likes, but now gale’s treating him like glass, like he’s scared to hurt him further just by touching him, and john does not like that. it feels like progress undone, like he's back at the beginning of their relationship when gale wouldn't let him in or open up to him or trust that he was capable of making his own decisions.

so when gale's done bandaging him up with practiced, meticulous hands, john doesn't give gale time to react, just slides off the counter and snatches the little first aid kit from his hands and says "okay, your turn." and it's obvious gale wants to protest, but john catches him so off guard that he stunned into silence, lets john guide him until he's leaning against the counter.

john's hands still tremble when he takes gale's hands in his, and he tries to steady them because he doesn't want gale to see how freaked out he is, but he diligently cleans away the blood around his knuckles, feeling gale's eyes on him the whole time but not looking away from his task, scared he'll shatter the moment if he does.

if he were to look up though, he'd see gale's watching him in complete awe, struck by the fiercest wave of adoration, drawing a blank while he tries to search for what he could've possibly done in this life or another to have someone like john come (crashing, stumbling, tornado–ing) into his life.

and if we wanna make it extra yowch–y and sappy and feelings heavy: as john's brushing his lips over the cuts, dusting featherlight kisses across his knuckles, john's throat goes tight and he feels his own overwhelming rush of emotions and his heart thumps and he blurts out: "i love you."

it's the first time one of them says it. and it’s a disguised i love you even so. i love you despite. i love you anyway. i love you because. months worth of reassurances wrapped into three words, and even with what john's just gone through, he's still scared when it slips out, looks up at gale with wide, searching eyes, trying to gauge whether he's overstepped or said the wrong thing.

gale's just trying to catch his breath, feeling like the wind's been knocked out of him by the admission. half of him wants to shake his head, gently push john's hands away, tell him "no you don't, hun." a tiny part of him wants to be cruel about it, to laugh the honesty off and ensure john will walk out that door far, far away from the mess that gale is, and not turn back, safe from harm.

but the other half of him, the half that holds his heart, evidently, has him cupping john's open, sincere face in his hands, looking down into bright, fearful, hopeful blue eyes, and murmuring "i love you more."

and john blushes as hard as he did the first time they'd kissed, as hard as he did the first time he was laid out in gale's bed, as if he and gale haven't said a million things much more fluster–inducing since they met. gets all shy, pouts, looks down and mumbles "that's not fair," and that finally gets the first smile out of gale all day, maybe even a breath of a laugh.

they love each other your honour </333

this got way out of hand but what else is newwww i'm so weak for these two. so so weak. i keep saying it but MAN i'm so excited to write this fic this summer omg :')

and DON'T BE SORRY!! it's so chill omg, you were perfectly clear (but i'm glad you elaborated and gave me an excuse to yap about them some more hehehe) and never apologize for long messages, i loveee reading the brainrot and hearing ur thoughts and getting to brainrot back. and thank you AGAIN sobs 😭💗 that makes MY days and ur way too kind fml. i hope the wait hasn't been too long LOL on the chapters AND a response to this ask!! tysm again mwah

[thevioletcaptain]

Hi! I don’t mean in any way to pressure you but I was wondering if you’re planning on continuing your fic “fortress”? I’d love to see it continue🥰 again no pressure I just really like your works!

Hi anon! Thanks for the message :)

Despite the hellishly long gap between updates, Fortress is not abandoned, and I do intend to finish it. It's actually pretty high up on my to-do list right now, and will be the next major thing I post once As A Friend is done.

Here's the order in which I plan to post DeanCas fics/updates over the next few months -- with some vague spoiler-adjacent-but-not-really-spoilery details for anyone who wants them:

Chapters 5 & 6 - As A Friend Roughly 35k words in total, split over these final two chapters. This will see Dean & Cas return to the bunker, announce their "fake" relationship to Sam & Jack, and then [redacted because I'm not giving the whole thing away even though you already know it's gonna be a happy ending].

Chapters 8, 9, & 10 - Fortress Roughly 22k words split between these three chapters. Chapter 9 (the during chapter in which Dean is suffering) & chapter 10 (the after chapter which follows the first days of Dean living with Cas after coming home) have been ready for a while, but chapter 8 (the before chapter, which features Robin's party when they were 16 👀 a party which you might recall was mentioned by Cas during the previous before chapter) has been holding them hostage. So as soon as 8 is ready I intend to post all three at once.

Oneshot - Hearts Beating Life (Into Each Other) Roughly 25k words of canonverse fuck-or-die fic. In which Cas gets cursed on a hunt, and you'll never guess what Dean has to do to save him..... lol. It'll probably get split into two or three chapters for readability, but I plan to post it all at once. This is only one final scene away from being complete at this point, but I want to finish As A Friend & update Fortress before I share it.

Chapter 8 - Isosceles Roughly 17k words, because this fic refuses to let me be succinct. Dean & Cas discuss more almosts, the angels make contact, we find out exactly what Sam said to Dean in chapter 4, Claire [redacted] when [redacted], Mary and Dean bond over [redacted], and the search for Kelly Kline picks up steam.

Chapters 3 & 4 - Empty Heroics Roughly 20k words split between these final two chapters. In which there is bed sharing, a plan is formulated, and Nobody Dies. I realize that barely anyone even read the first two chapters of this fic, but I still really like it and want to finish it off, so it's the fifth thing on my to-do list.

Oneshot - As-Yet-Untitled Shrinking Curse Fic Roughly 10k words of canonverse established relationship PWP. In which they've been together for literally three days when Dean gets hit with a shrinking curse that won't wear off for a year, and comes up with a creative solution to ensure that they can still enjoy the physical aspects of their new relationship despite being small enough to perch on Cas' shoulder.

Chapter 1 - One More Chain Does The Maker Make Roughly 10k words, and the first of five chapters. The whole fic should come in around 50-60k words, and it's canon-divergent from 15.06. Featuring a lot of pining, and Dean working on Jesse and Cesar's ranch. I posted about it here if you want to know more!

The final 5 chapters of Fortress & final 3 chapters of Isosceles will come next -- likely to be about another 30k and 45k respectively, based on current word counts and what remains to be written.

At some point in between all of this I also plan to post some updates to The Coda Project (I've written at least half of each coda up to 1.12 Faith at this point, I just need to buckle down and finish them off in order so I can start posting them again), along with a handful of short tumblr prompt meme ficlets I've written recently -- specifically, those based on the following six trios of emojis: [🧪🧛🏻‍♀️💦], [🔮🛁🫂], [🤠🎶🌬️], [🪼👀🎨], [🥬🍅✨], and [🥶😶‍🌫️🤯], all of which ended up being significantly longer than they should have been, hence the delay in posting them.

...aaaand I realize that this is far more information than you asked for so I apologize. But thanks again for your message, and for reading. I hope you enjoy all the updates when they're posted 💚

[love-strike]

keep up ✦ boo seungkwan

title: keep up pairing: boo seungkwan x afab reader rating: explicit (18+) word count: 690 genres: pwp, smut warnings: pure smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, breeding/impreg kink!! a/n: no words just bsk breeding kink. special thanks to the anon that mentioned this - i totally took the idea and ran with it hehe~

It starts when Seungkwan comes back home after a week of being away from you. You, who he finds lounging on the sofa wearing his favorite hoodie and nothing else.

“You’re home!” you exclaim loudly as you practically sprint across the room to hug him tightly. He laughs softly and squeezes you.

“And you’re half naked,” he replies teasingly and you grumble into his chest.

“It’s hot in here,” you say back and try to wriggle out of his grip. He laughs and easily pulls you back into his arms.

“That’s what the thermostat is for, my love,” Seungkwan states matter-of-factly and plants a kiss on your head. You feel your heart skip a beat at the feeling of his lips on you. You wrap your hands around his arm and look him in his pretty eyes.

“I missed you,” you say with a pout. You’re secretly hoping to coax some attention out of him after not seeing him for so long. He hums pleasantly and you see his eyes roam over your body for just a split second. After a beat of silence, he suddenly bends down and picks you up bridal style; your excited squeal echoes throughout the room as he takes you to your bedroom.

This is how you end up with Seungkwan’s cock deep inside you, his body pushing you into the mattress. His hair is stuck to his forehead with sweat, and his eyes are so dark that his gaze causes a shiver to run down your spine. He’s already cum inside you once, your own orgasm hitting you at the same time, and you know that he doesn’t plan on stopping anytime soon. You can feel tears begin to run down your cheeks as he thrusts over, and over. Your hands shakily run up his back to thread in his hair as you whimper loudly.

“Look at you,” he says crudely, eyes grazing over your dazed expression. “You’re already so fucked out, hm?”

You nod weakly and he outright laughs. You can’t control the way your body shudders at his words, a searing heat running through your core.

“I know you want me to fuck you full of my cum and breed you,” he whispers along with one deep thrust into you. “I’ve been keeping all of it saved up for you, baby.”

You openly gasp at his words as your cunt clenches tightly around him, making Seungkwan groan loudly.

“You like the thought of me breeding you? Getting you pregnant?” he grunts out. Your eyes flutter closed at the pure feeling of overstimulation and pleasure.

“Please, yes,” you begin to beg with a sob. “Need it.”

“You can’t even talk properly,” he coos and kisses gently on your neck, his actions contrasting his lewd words. “My sweet girl. You’re gonna take my cum, right, baby?”

You try your best to moan out some sort of affirmation and you can feel his smile as he kisses you on your lips. His hands roam down your body to tightly grasp your hips, his thrusts speeding up as he chases his orgasm.

“Oh, fuck,” he buries his head into the crook of your neck and gasps as he rocks into you. His hips suddenly stutter, his fingers digging deep into your skin as he climaxes inside of you. You whine quietly as his cum shoots deep inside the walls of your cunt. You feel so full that it almost makes you dizzy. Seungkwan stays still as he tries to catch his breath, one of his hands moving to rest his palm on your stomach.

“My sweetie,” he whispers next to your ear. “I love you so much.”

“Love you,” you reply quietly with a raspy throat. He sighs and fully relaxes his body to rest on top of you, wrapping his arms around you.

“I’m gonna stay inside you while we sleep, okay?” he says and you swallow thickly. You feel a dull spark of arousal in your core and you know that you’re in for a long night.

[haileyywrites]

hello, how are you? ^_^ if it's okay, may i please request qiqi, klee, diona, sayu, dori, nahida and yaoyao all spending a day together with a fem!reader?

maybe with the reader being the traveler, but not being aether nor lumine, but a reader!traveler or something?

Summary: While travelling across the vast lands of Teyvat you decide to take a break and spend some time with your little friends by inviting them into your Serenitea Pot!

Pairing: Qiqi, Klee, Diona, Sayu, Nahida and Yaoyao x Gn-reader! (Platonic!)

Warnings: Paimon is included! Written with Fem-reader in mind! Reader is referred to as "you/she/her" or "Traveler" or "Honorary Knight"! It's long! Possible grammar errors as I'm lazy and this is long! (Sorry!)

Notes: Thank you so much for the request Anon! I hope I did a good job writing this; it was really fun! I couldn't find a way to include Dori - I'm sorry Anon! Feel free to request again if you specifically want her included and I'll make it happen! Also so sorry for taking so long to finish this!! <33

Adventuring throughout Teyvat was extremely rewarding, yet exhausting. Lately it hadn't even been that rewarding, both you and Paimon were quite tired of searching each and every corner of Teyvat only to end up empty handed despite your best efforts... It was high time you took a small break from adventuring and had a relaxing vacation in the comfort of your Serenitea Pot!

You arrived swiftly inside and were greeted with the familiar sight of your house and all the things you had placed outside to make the place more homely! Your eyes roamed through it all as a proud smile rested on your lips. Soon your attention was caught by a particular quest of yours that stood under the shade of a tree, she stood there with some finches happily chirping by her side - one of them even settled on her head! With a smile you approached Qiqi, careful to not startle her or her bird friends.

“Hello, Qiqi!” You greeted her with Paimon following your example and doing the same.

“Hello, Traveler and Paimon...” She slowly greeted back.

Only after looking up did you notice you weren't alone, as Sayu was laying on one of the braches deep in sleep without a care in the world - though you couldn't help, but worry that she would fall down! But hearing the front door to your mansion open your attention was brought elsewhere as you turned around to see Yaoyao along with Diona rushing out with their hands filled with snacks and drinks.

“Hi, Traveler!” Yaoyao greeted you with a big smile.

“I'm sure she didn't ignore you on purpose.” You poked her side playfully.

“Hey! Paimon's here too you know!” Paimon crossed her arms, clearly offended.

“Hey! Do you plan on just standing there or are you going to help? My hands are full you know!” Diona huffed.

You quickly acted and took half of the drinks from her into your own hands - even for a bartender it was too many drinks for one person to carry, you weren't sure how she managed to carry them this far by herself! Diona let out a sigh of relief when freed from half of the glasses before greeting you like the others had previously.

“So are you guys having a picnic or what?” Paimon asked curiously.

“Yes we are! We were planning to just have a snack together, but then the others asked for some too!” Yaoyao explained.

“Others?” You and Paimon asked in unison.

“Oh, they haven't returned yet.” Yaoyao started to look around for someone.

“Klee went to look for a picnic blanket and Nahida said she'd clean up the kitchen before joining us.” Diona explained.

“I should go help her clean up!” Yaoyao offered.

“It's okay, I'll go help her.” You interjected.

“Then I'll go help Klee!” She smiled.

“You really can't sit still.” Paimon joked.

The three of you entered the mansion, but split up as Yaoyao went to seek out Klee and you headed for the kitchen with Paimon. There you found a very puzzled looking Nahida as she stared at the dirty dishes and left over materials that Diona and Yaoyao didn't yet put away.

“Hi, Nahida! Need some help?” You broke her train of thought.

“Traveler! It's been a while, how have you been?” She excitedly approached you.

“Just fine! Paimon and I decided to take a vacation for a while and came to help you clean up!” You explained.

“Oh, I see... I'm sorry Traveler, I haven't washed dishes before and I didn't want to mess up.” She slumped her shoulders.

“It's okay Nahida, Paimon doesn't know how either!” Paimon proudly declared.

“Right! We're happy to help.” You pat her head gently in reassurance.

With a nod of understanding from the young Archon you asked her to take care of putting things away while you would do the dishes; Paimon opted to help out Nahida instead of helping you wash the dirty things Diona and Yaoyao had used to prepare the feast you would soon be joining.

Time flew by as you caught up with Nahida; telling her about your recent adventures, in turn you asked her how she and Sumeru were doing lately. Doing the dishes might not be your favourite chore to do, but with good company it was akin to relaxing. Soon enough the kitchen was as good as new and the three of you were able to finally join the others outside!

“Miss Honorary Knight and Paimon!” Klee shouted as she ran towards you full speed.

You were barely able to react and catch her when she jumped into your arms, tightly holding onto you. Despite her young age and small size she hugged you with incredible strength! You hugged her back while trying your best to not pass out due to lack of air getting into your lungs.

“Uh, Klee? Paimon thinks you're suffocating her!” Paimon stated in worry.

“Oh - sorry!” She giggled and relented her grip.

“It's okay. Hello to you too Klee!” You greeted her while gasping for air.

“Can we get to it already?” Diona sighed.

“Yeah! Paimon wants to eat already!” Paimon begged.

“Okay, okay! Let's start with the blanket.” You calmly put down Klee before picking up said blanket.

Klee, Yaoyao and Diona were quick to come to your aid, each of them picked a corner of the blacket and helped you spread it out evenly on the grass. Everyone helped place the drinks and food on the blacket before sitting down together to enjoy - well everyone except you.

“Sayu! Sayu come down for some snacks!” You shouted gently to not startle her or hurt Diona's sensitive ears.

The little ninja stirred awake and yawned loudly while stretching, she skilfully and quickly got down from the tree while still quite sleepy. She rolled over right next to you with her head soon falling against your arm, poor thing was still waking up and could barely hold her own head up. You didn't mind in the slightest and tried your best to stay as still as you could to not disturb her if she wanted to continue sleeping.

After eating you all decided to play some hide and seek to release all the energy the little one's got from the sugary drinks and food! Paimon opted not to join the game and istead stayed to eat any left overs she could, she truly had an abnormal appetite... Some activity like this wouldn't be bad for her at all, but you didn't wish to force her to join against her will.

You were chosen to be the first seeker while everyone else hid, you were looking forward to their hiding spots! You had designed the teapot yourself which gave you an advantage over them, but you were certain that some like Sayu would make it quite a challenge for you. Soon you reached the count of thirty and the hunt began!

You only had to turn around to see Nahida peeking at you from behind a tree not too far away... You wanted to leave her be so she wouldn't lose so quickly on the first round, but it wouldn't be fair to the others to do so. With a heavy heart you approached her and told her to come out from hiding.

“I've never played this game before.” She laughed awkwardly.

“Don't worry, I'm sure you'll do better bext time!” You encouraged her.

She nodded and ran back to the picnic blanket to wait for the game to end. Your next target wasn't even hiding as Qiqi stood on the porch right next to Tubby looking starstruck. You probably should have expected that she might get distracted or even forget about the game all together, but like before you approached her and told her to go join Nahida.

This time it took you a bit longer to find someone, though you couldn't help but chuckle when you spotted a pair of cat ears peeking ever so slightly from a bush. Diona was disappointed from not winning, but she cheered up a bit after hearing she wasn't the first one to be found.

Once again it took you some time before you were able to find Klee, she was hiding behind a large structure and thus you were unable to see her before you went behind it - which you didn't think to do before since you wanted to check the obvious spots first; just in case!

Now the only one left was unsurprisingly, Sayu. You were expecting this of course, she is a ninja after all! It felt like you were looking for her forever... You had looked everywhere twice, every stone and tree - you just couldn't find her! You were ready to give up until you heard something, the sound of soft snoring that was coming from above - from the roof!

After an arduous clim you were able to safely retrieve the sleeping Sayu and bring her down from the roof to join the others... Seeing how exhausted everyone were after eating and playing you decided to take a nap power together.

Sayu was sleeping next to you already and despite how much energy Klee had, she was able to calm down enough to crawl next to you as well. Diona was happy enough near your feet where she could have her own space and Nahida was on the other side looking the most exited about the idea of dreaming. Yaoyao and Qiqi were on your left together and Paimon was on your right, next to Sayu.

You closed your eyes as the sun began setting in the distance making everything glow warm yellow, the air was warm with a gentle and cool wind brushing over you occasionally. The soft snores didn't bother you in the slightest with how relaxed and at peace you felt... You wished moments like these would last forever.

Feel free to like, comment and or reblog! Any interaction with this post is greatly appreciated <3

[streakyglasses]

Just got my period, so prompt #49 on your intimacy prompts seems fitting! Would love to see #stris with this prompt, too. Currently rotting away and needing something to read lol

Hello!! Unsure if you’re the same as the last anon, but thank you if you are! I’m missing writing, too, there’s just a ton going on at the moment making it hard to actually finish anything. (lots of half-written angst/hc in the drafts rn + being absolutely stuck on aost) I’m hoping maybe rewatching the show will help cheer me up and turn the gears. Definitely missing Chris and Street a lot :(

2. so insanely real about rotting—same (and for the same reason). that said, idk if you were looking for street taking care of Chris on her period, but that’s what my brain assumed and I was too far into it to change when I realized maybe you meant a general illness 😅 (shameless plug of the two stris sickfics I do have on my ao3 if you were). anywho, i did lean in and manage to whip up a lil’ something that I hope fills the void/makes rotting slightly more enjoyable. untitled atm 🩵 below the cut!

For as independent as Chris is, being in a healthy, loving relationship with Jim Street means she can no longer hide one of her biggest desires behind walls of steel and fiery eyes. 

To be held. 

She’s always been liberal with physical touch, having no problem hanging off any of her former 20-Squad members when they hang out, or slinging an arm around her family after dinner. Street caught on early and took full advantage. It was easy in Black Betty’s close quarters, their legs and shoulders often brushing, and he wedged himself into her space around the table in Command during important debriefs. Her effort had to split between paying attention and not showing him how calm his warmth made her. 

He only gets clingier after they get together and he has full freedom to. His arms snake around her as she stands at the stove or the fridge, and their hands fit like puzzle pieces whenever they’re out together. She indulges him, tucking away how happy it makes her, and their shared smiles tell the other that they both know what’s going on, but neither are going to call it out. 

But the old habit of independence is one that still flares whenever Chris doesn’t feel well. Be it a sniffle or a hospital stay, the last thing she wants is anyone to see her weak, beyond her own sensibilities. So when one of the worst periods she’s had in recent memory falls upon her, all her instincts scream at her to hole up alone in her room and ride out the waves in isolation. 

She wakes with a groan on the second morning of it. Her cramps are already attacking her muscles, making it hard to sleep even though there’s another half hour before her alarm goes off. Hot water provides some relief, though not enough to squeeze herself into jeans when her leggings are clean. Despite not having Street stay over, secretly glad he drew the short stick on babysitting a minor drug runner in interrogation, his hoodie is still there from a few nights ago, and she tugs it on like it’s hers. 

Have a good day, love you. She shoots off the text, downs two painkillers, and holds back a groan when her body protests the weight of her backpack on her shoulder. Sighing, she grabs her keys from the hook and heads to her truck, hoping it’s an easy day at the safe house. 

Between her physical discomfort, the stress of 20-Squad’s mission as it played out on the news, and Marcos deciding it’s the perfect day to test her patience with the ridiculous claim that she can’t defend the safe house by herself if need be, it is not an easy day. Chris’s last hope clings on changing into sweats and curling up in bed with her lavender candle lit and some of her secret chocolate stash. Maybe, if she’s still feeling this shitty by the time she gets home, a good cry and a comfort movie. 

Her plan crumbles when she spies Street’s bike in the parking garage. Suddenly, her anxiety spikes as her head starts spinning with ways to not show him how bad she’s feeling. 

Not that he doesn’t know—her mortification at having to ask him to get her extra box of tampons from the guest bathroom still enough to make her cheeks burn red and not—but it’s never been this bad. Under mounting exhaustion, she doesn’t have the energy to grant it too much thought, and settles for muddling through the night of her hormones wreaking havoc on her, with elbows and knees if she has to, quietly. 

“Hey, Babe!” Street calls from the kitchen as soon as he hears the door open. “Lasagna’s almost done.”

Glancing over his shoulder, he notices the tight set of her smile and the slight flush on her cheeks. He narrows his eyes but she’s down the hallway too fast for him to notice much else. His worry grows when she hasn’t returned five minutes after the oven dings, and the dish is abandoned on the stove while he quietly closes one of the cabinets, slipping something into his pocket, and knocks lightly on her door. 

As hard as she tries, her walls tumble down the moment she’s in the comfort of her bedroom. She doubles over, gripping the vanity for strength, when a new wave of cramps crashes over her in the bathroom, and she can’t lie to herself enough to think anything sounds appetizing. Her intentions are still to change and go meet Street at the table, but she sits on the edge of her bed for a second to gather herself, and winds up under the covers before she can stop herself.

“Chris? Baby?” He says through the door. “Can I come in?” 

The groan-whimper that escapes as she curls into an even tinier ball is all the answer he’ll accept, pushing the door open. His face softens at the sight of her, laughing at how she tries to bury herself under the covers like that will keep her from seeing her. 

A big part of him wishes she could just let herself accept the comfort she gives everyone else, but he respects and loves the fighter in her too much to ever make an issue of it. Instead, he parks himself on the edge of her bed and pulls a small piece of chocolate out of his pocket, the crinkle catching her attention. 

“Think this’ll help?” He teases, smile growing at the furrow of her brows. “I may’ve hid in the hallway after the last grocery trip until I saw your hiding spot.” 

“You’re the worst,” she says gruffly, but rips open the wrapper and savors the sweetness all the same. It’s a salve on her heart. Nerves calming at his correct read on the situation, he drops a kiss to her forehead and stands. 

“I’ll be right back.” 

He keeps his promise, and brings a laundry list of items with him. A tub of chocolate covered almonds is set next to a mug of peppermint tea on her nightstand. Fishing around the drawer, he exclaims victory when his hand curls around the familiar plastic of a lighter that he uses to light the candle on her dresser so a light layer of lavender fills the space, enough to soothe but not make eyes water. Finally, he plugs in the heating pad and hands it to her to adjust it to where she wants, and then pulls back her comforter to drape the lush green quilt, something Helena knit before she was born that’s long been her favorite blanket, in its place. The comforter does cover that, but she fists the knit up to her neck, settling into it. 

Satisfied that she’s taken care of and sure she wants a few moments, he leaves her again, just long enough to eat. The lasagna is as delicious as he expected, and he’s glad she’ll have something hearty whenever she does feel like eating. With a bottle of water tucked under his arm, he heads back to her room, not even bothering with a knock this time since he heard the familiar dun dun come down the hallway. 

She’s half-propped on the pillows, the cord of the heating pad making it clear she’s situated it over her stomach. The empty bowl and mug are a relief, and he wastes no time sliding in next to her. Relishing the feeling of being in bed next to Chris, a feeling that will never get old no matter the circumstance, he lets the weight of his own day fall off into nothing. 

“Do you need anything else?” He murmurs, and kisses her head. 

“No, thank you.” Chris’s voice is small, an edge of shame to her tone, and he just pulls her from the pillows to lean against him, and meets their lips again. 

“Let me know if you do. Law and Order, really?” 

Nudging him, she gives up quickly in favor of crossing her legs over his. His arm around her is the nicest thing she’s felt all day, she realizes, and the only thing she wants to feel for the foreseeable future. 

“Don’t make fun of me.” She mumbles into his shoulder, eyes fixed on the screen. He finds one of her hands and intertwines their fingers, squeezing.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” When he tries to part them so he can draw tender circles on her stomach, she lets out a noise of protest and tightens her grip. He switches to grazing his thumb over her knuckles, a motion as constant as the waves. 

They make it halfway through the episode until a new knot forms inside her lower abdomen and she curls forward, struggling to breathe deep and slow. Street follows her body with his, as if he can form a wall of protection around her. 

“I’m sorry, Baby,” he whispers in her ear. “It’ll pass.”

She focuses on his voice and nods. Gritting her teeth, it takes a moment, but it does pass, and she straightens up with a low breath. His fingers rake through her hair while her bones creak back into place.

“Thanks.” She whispers, hating the tears in her voice but not enough to try to fight them. And then she adds, “for being here.” 

Cradling her face, heart swelling at how she leans into his touch, he finds her gaze and pours as much love as he can through his own. 

“I’ll always be here. I love you.” 

Their limbs tangle until she’s swathed in his embrace, his presence around her as soft a cloud that fills all her cracks and turns them to gold. She cracks a small smile as old habits start to thaw. 

“I love you, too.” 

[boasamishipper]

Night Court anon here again - oh wow, all your Dan/Harry WIPs sound amazing, and I especially can't wait for Code of Conduct, I was *hoping* for Harry's POV of Judicial Impropriety and I'm very excited!! 💜

hello again! i'm so glad you're excited for Code of Conduct - i'm about 3200 words in right now, with the expected word count to be a little under 10k (just because of who i am as a person lmao).

snippet below the cut:

“Answer this for me, Harry. True or false.”

Harry takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes with the heel of his hand, half-hoping that Dan’s sudden appearance is a stress-and-slight-stomachache-induced hallucination. No dice. “Okay.”

“True or false. If you decide to get back together with your boyfriend, it’s polite to inform the handsome attorney from whom you accepted an offer of a night on the town,” even Dan’s eyebrow waggle looks put out, “not six hours prior that your situation has changed, so said handsome attorney can avoid driving all the way to Queens and looking like an idiot in front of you, your three insipid roommates, and your stupid doctor boyfriend.”

“I’m sensing this isn’t a hypothetical.”

“True or false, Harry.”

“True,” Harry says, and Dan throws his arms into the air triumphantly.

“Thank you. My God, Harry, I bought Veuve Clicquot for this woman! Okay, I paid Phil to do the buying, but it was still my money! What the hell am I supposed to do with eighty-eight dollars worth of champagne now?”

“Return it to the store?” Harry suggests.

“Non-refundable.”

“Donate it to charity?”

“The whole point of the less fortunate is that they remain less fortunate, Harry. I’m not upending that hierarchy by giving them luxury champagne.”

“Keep talking like that and you’ll get a Cabinet position,” Harry says, and Dan’s eyes light up.

“You think so?”

“Sure. You’d be the most human of the bunch.”

“Gosh, sir, you say the sweetest things,” Dan deadpans, somehow simultaneously rolling his eyes and batting his eyelashes. “Got any more ideas?”

“You could save the champagne for my next New Year’s Eve luau.”

Dan’s whole face scrunches up. “I’d rather donate it to charity. None of your usual guests have the class to fully appreciate such a gift. Well, you do, I suppose,” he says thoughtfully. “But Bull? Absolutely not.”

“Thanks,” Harry says. For the sake of his fluttering heart, he wishes Dan flirting and Dan trying to suck up didn’t look and sound so similar. “I think.”

“Don’t mention it. What’re you doing here so late, anyhow?”

“Said the kettle to the pot.”

“The kettle forgot his keys and saw the light under your door. And the Honorable Judge Pot?”

“Bail reports,” Harry says, gesturing at the files. The stack on the floor is midway to his knees. The five remaining stacks on the desk are approximately the length of his arm. 

Dan sucks a sympathetic breath through his teeth. He stands up, and Harry figures that he’s going to go home. He’s surprised when Dan says instead, “Well, such an occasion ought to be celebrated.” A smirk tugs at his mouth. “If only we had a bottle of champagne lying around.”

“Dan, we’re off the clock,” Harry says. “You don’t have to suck up.”

Dan looks a little hurt. “Who’s sucking up?”

“You—well, I-I thought you were offering me your bottle of champagne—”

“I was offering to split my champagne with you,” Dan says archly. “No ulterior motive, nothing up my sleeve—unless you count wanting some champagne for myself.” He winks. “So, you game or what?”

Harry bites his lip. He has to get these bail reports signed, sealed, and delivered, otherwise they’ll just be waiting for him on Monday. On the other hand, being alone with Dan and a bottle of good champagne is the basis of at least three of his favorite fantasies. Which is exactly why he should say no. But naturally, his traitorous mouth says, “I’m game.”

Dan grins. “Back in five.”

[sailorshadzter]

Before parentage reveal and during S8, Jon and Sansa realize they love each other romantically. They have a heartbreaking conversation about duty and love which is vaguely about them confessing their feelings. Then Jon's parentage is revealed, and they give in their feelings.

thanks anon!!!

send me prompts

He finds her there beneath the heart tree, the first morning of his arrival home. 

“Have you come to pray?” He asks as he approaches, her head looking up as a smile spreads slowly across her rosy lips. As he figures, she shakes her head, though she pats the space beside him, as if she’d been waiting for him there all along. He does, sinking into the place at her side, their shoulders brushing as he shifts to face her. There, he finds her blue eyes are already staring back at him, poised as if they mean to speak, but thinks better of it. “I’ve missed this place,” he says instead of what he means and she softens, as if she knows, as if she understands, her hands twisting in the folds of her black wool gown. 

“It’s not felt like home without you here,” she replies with a tilt of her head, red hair falling across her shoulder, the honesty falling free before she can stop it. Then again, perhaps she doesn’t want to. “Ghost and I have missed you.” She thinks of the many nights she’s slept tucked against the wolf, wishing it to be his master. There’s a part of her that knows the truth- that this could never be, even if Jon wanted it too, but somehow that doesn’t make it any less painful. 

“Has he missed me? I’ve not seen him once since my return,” he laughs, thinking of the wolf he’d found snoozing in her bed the night before, when he had peeked into her rooms hoping for a moment with her, but instead watched her sleep for a moment before he was gone, returning to his own lonely rooms. “From what I’ve heard, he’s as good as yours.” It’s her turn to laugh, though she’s shaking her head, as if it’s not true. “But I’m glad for that.” He recalls the last moment he shared with the wolf, when he’d asked him to look after her for him, to keep her safe when he could not. It certainly seemed as if the wolf had been good on his word, if not better than good. 

For a long moment, they shared nothing but a smile and silence, eyes staring into one another’s, and for that split second it was almost enough. “Sansa…” Her name is on his lips, familiar and warm, as his hand reaches out to take hold of hers. Jon doesn’t know what he means to say, what he means to do, but the feel of her skin against his brings him a sense of peace he’s not felt since the last time he held her in his arms. “I’ve missed you,” he finally says, the truth, or half of it at least. Her cheeks are pink but not from the cold and she slides her other hand into place over his, a tangle of fingers. 

The truth was, he loves her, and he loves her well. 

He loves her in a way a brother should never love his sister- but try as he might, he cannot escape the feelings that live within his heart. It was she that brought meaning back into his life, it was she that renewed the warmth in his heart, in his soul. It was for her that he went to war for and he knows that he would do it again, without a single doubt. Sansa was the light in his life, the warmth in his soul, but she could never be his… Not truly. Perhaps in another life, in another world. 

There is just something utterly tragic about the moment and Sansa closes her eyes against the tears welling up within. But then, it’s his hand against the curve of her cheek, guiding her back into the moment, and so she opens her eyes simply so she might gaze into his perfect face. “Jon…” She speaks his name, soft and slow, in a way only she ever can, and Jon feels the chills race the length of his spine at the sound of it. “I was afraid you might not return to me,” she says softly, daring to speak of the fear that kept her up late into the night while he was away. 

“I promised I would, didn’t I?” He asks and she chuckles softly, nodding her head. His hand slips from her cheek but she catches hold, giving it a tender squeeze. “I always want to be at your side, Sansa,” he admits without fear, without hesitation, though he longs to say more. To do more. Her smile wanes, her blue eyes glistening with the unshed tears she’s tried so hard to keep at bay. 

“I know,” she says, knowing the truth as well as he does.

But it could never be, would never be. 

[ x x x ]

It’s the evening after the reveal.

He stands at her doorway, torn between knocking and walking away, as he’s been many times before. But then, before he has a chance to do anything at all, the door opens, and she’s standing there in the doorway, looking bemused at the sight of him. “Jon,” she greets, stepping back to instead allow him entry. “I was just coming to find you,” she admits as the door swings closed behind him. “But here you are.” It was as if he was attuned to her every move, her every thought.

Now that he’s here, he doesn’t know what to say, nor what to do.

This was a moment he never could have dreamed could happen, not in all of his life. The only thing he once wanted was to be a true born Stark, but now, he’s jubilant with the knowledge that he was not. He thinks back to every moment that had led them to this one, the ones with one another, and those without. He thinks back to how every moment without her, he’d only been wishing to be with her. “Sansa…” Her name is soft on his lips and she’s smiling as she takes a single step closer, so close now he can smell her familiar scent of rosewater and Ghost. Everything led to this one moment. 

This one that would change everything. 

“Just say it,” she whispers as his arms come around her, head tilted back so she can look up into his face. His lips are so close, she can feel the curve of them when he laughs, can feel the heat of his every exhale. “Say it…” 

Jon leans in and just before he captures her mouth, he whispers the words he’s held onto all these long days… “I love you…”