#this apparently takes place before all that though?

[atlasnessie]

hii i saw ur requests were open and i decided to make one :3, how the bsd men would act when they are lovesick? Like not yandere and those twisted things, but they just feel like a teenager boy in highschool with their first love, nothing else than pure fluff =w=" i honestly dont care which characters you add, but id really like to see fyodor in there ;P.

Bonus points if the reader is just so gentle, kind and pure with everyone ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა!! You can ignore this request, take your time. I hope you have a good day and thanks for reading me :DD

GOD, IM SO LOVESICK. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME ?

osamu and chuuya slowly realizing that they’re in love with you.

an: FINALLY FINISHED THIS OMG anon im so sorry it took so long also i’m … still unsure of how to write fyodor ughh ikk embarrassing !! hope this is okay nonnie :((

OSAMU DAZAI never had the chance of falling in love. everything ended one sided, a side that would benefit him and him only. he’s lived long enough to know that he was not worthy of such a delicate feeling; everything he has and wishes to have will all disintegrate as soon as he has it. dazai was not willing to risk it. not now, not ever.

at least, that’s what he wants to believe.

dazai can’t shake off this feeling when being around with you. he stands by the roadside of the sidewalk when walking with you, voluntarily giving his coat when the weather gets chilly, and surprisingly have enough money to buy you some good coffee (and not put it on a tab). he doesn’t know why he’s doing this, it’s not like he’s into you, but his thoughts wander off to wanting to feel your hands on his, to know how his first name would sound from your lips instead of his surname. and once he realizes he’s in love, he’s gone.

lovesick isn’t something dazai had ever felt. romance and osamu dazai should never be in the same sentence, they don’t belong together.

“you’ve been avoiding my texts, my calls, and now ignoring my knocks on your door ?” you stand in front of the paint chipping door, a bento in one hand and a finger pointing at his chest with the other. dazai looked terrible, his eye bags more apparent and the stench of alcohol from inside could make a lightweight drunk at the smell.

“ah, whatever do you mean —”

“you know what i mean, dazai. i’ve gotten calls from kunikida telling me that you haven’t shown up to work for a week ! he can’t even enter your apartment and he calls you every morning to check that you’re okay.”

you pushed your way inside his apartment before he could speak. this wasn’t the first time you’ve been in here, and was definitely not your second. or third. or fourth, or fifth, or however amount of times you’ve been here. dazai can’t remember.

placing the bento down on the cheap wooden table, the color of the lunch box was the only bright thing in the whole house. dazai quickly closed the door, almost tripping on your shoes before speed walking behind you. if he’d known you’d come in, in which he probably did, he would’ve cleaned and tided up a little beforehand. your eyes darted around the room before unboxing the bento.

“sit down. i made you something to eat.” your voice was quiet, but a little higher than a whisper. the aroma of fresh, real food made dazai’s mouth water.

“at your command, then.” dazai responded back, pulling a creaky chair and sitting, his eyes shining dull as he heard the sound of wooden chopsticks break.

“here, you eat. i’ll clean.”

“awh, i was hoping you’d feed me.” chocolate brown eyes met with yours, faking tears to brim out of his eyes as he lazily held the chopsticks, holding it as if he had never seen them before. an excuse. this was an excuse. not for you to feed him, though, he’d most certainly love that, but for you to not clean up the mess he had made. the cluster of sake bottles and canned crab made his apartment look less pleasing to look at.

“eat. i’ll clean.” your voice was persistent as you pushed the bento closer to him. grumbling, dazai pick up an egg roll and inspected it. how stupid, he thought. a toothpick shaped as a cat stood idle in the middle of the roll, its dark void eyes staring at his. it looks a lot like you, naive and ever so …

shit. thoughts like this shouldn’t be running in his head. you’re just a co-worker, afterall. right ? though … dazai has to admit; the food that’s on the bento tastes better than anything ever, and the soft hum of your voice lulls his worries away.

to be loved is to be known, he thinks.

CHUUYA NAKAHARA has no time for feelings outside of the port mafia, but you’re an exception. the sun sets slowly on the horizon of yokohama, and the wind is just right for a nice breeze. the picnic cloth is laid on the ground as chuuya swirls his glass of wine, watching as you talk about your day. you weren’t anything special, hell, it was total coincidence that you two even met.

a civilian and an executive of the port mafia. what a story to tell. but you weren’t aware of chuuyas profession, no, why would he break the trust that built up and took so long to gain ? he wouldn’t dare, he couldn’t.

“and then, while i was walking home today, i bumped into some guy and he was all like, ‘double suicide’ this and ‘double suicide’ that. scared the hell out of me ..!” you laugh and take a sip of your own wine and out of the corner of your eyes, you can see chuuyas shoulders tense up.

“he didn’t … he didn’t have some weirdass bandages all over … did he ?” chuuya grumbled as he pressed the wine glass to his lips, hiding his irritation.

“oh, he did. it was really weird.”

fuck ..!! chuuya though, grinding his teeth together just at the thought of that disgusting man. his thoughts of killing dazai were interrupted as you point at the sky.

“look, isn’t it pretty ?” you sigh, placing your hands behind you and leaning back. the sky was painted a radiant orange, complemented by pink and yellow. chuuya blinks and stares into the horizon, the corner of his eyes shifting back to you subtly. his chest tightens and—

oh, how he’s smitten. maybe it’s the wine, maybe it’s the gentle rays of the sun, but his face feels hot and he leans closer to you, bringing up a hand and tucking in longer strands of hair behind your ear. you turn your head as chuuya stops midway, your hair falling out of his fingers. leaning back, chuuya coughs and plays it off, pouring himself another drink.

“sorry. looked like it was bothering you.” he mumbled, biting the rim of his glass before taking a sip, his gaze avoiding yours.

it’s the little things, but to him, he wants to do more than subtle hints of love. this is a start, at least.

[codtrashsammy]

oh no i'm having more soft Ghoap thoughts

okokko this is more of a little ficlet thing but it makes my lil heart happy so enjoy <3

also y'all i do not be editing these. at all. I just be throwin shit down on paper and making my brain produce dopamine.

if you all have any requests though pls feel free to drop into my ask box <3 I will gladly write whatever. I'm sure i'll come up with rules eventually, but rn I'm pretty open-minded and can't think of much I would refuse <3

You're waltzing around your apartment, half asleep but with a tired smile on your face. Johnny comes back today, after all, and of course that means Simon will be coming too! You've been dating Johnny exclusively for a few months now. Sure, sometimes Simon will hold your hand, or pull you in for a hug. And sure, sometimes Simon sits with you in the early mornings on the balcony while you drink a warm drink, and he smokes a cigarette- looking at you with rapt attention and soft eyes, hanging onto every word you say. Okay, and maybe he calls you 'love' and 'darling' but he's British, so it's probably normal. But it's entirely platonic- you're at least 78% sure, and plus only Johnny had asked you out- so you have to stay loyal to him even if you do feel something for the bigger brute.

But! You need to get your ass into gear and make your boys- boy something to eat- knowing damn well they- he will be hungry when they- ah fuck it. You're going to cook them a good ass meal to enjoy- knowing they will enjoy it after a month of MRE's and shitty mess hall food (Johnny's words). So you do. You work away in the kitchen- though the clock reads barely past 2AM, knowing they should arrive around 3AM at this point. You've timed it perfectly, so by the time you set everything out on the kitchen island, still steaming and hot, you hear the familiar playful rapt at your door.

ba ba baba ba

With a grin you glance over the selection of food first- mashed potatoes, green beans, fried pork chops, and freshly made black tea- you make your way over to the door and open it with a grin. "'m glad you're back!" You bout out happily, sending both men a bright grin despite your slightly tired eyes along with theirs. "Missed ye, bonnie," Johnny is quick to just waltz right on in, arms wrapping around you and lifting you up slightly with one hand, his other hand occupied carrying his duffel bag.

A snort of amusement leaves your lips as you hug him back, pressing a kiss to his lips before batting at him to put you down- though he doesn't hesitate once he notices the smell in the house. "Oooh, what's this, bonnie?" Johnny hums out, dropping his bag somewhere in the living room as he makes his way to the kitchen.

A soft laugh leaves your lips at his reaction, but you don't bother to answer him as you turn your attention to Simon, whose closing the door behind him. He's wearing his usual little black medical mask- the one he wears in place of the balaclava when he's off duty.

So imagine your utter shock and dumb fuck surprise when he pulls the thing down, steps forward, places a gentle hand on your cheek and kisses you. "Missed ya, too, love," Simon quips easily, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before simply dropping his bag and just walking right into the kitchen.

Sir, I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?! It's a thought, no words leave your lips as your cheeks heat up.

Oh no, you just cheated on your boyfriend- in the same house with him- with his best friend.

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU DO NOW?!

Apparently, nothing but walk into the kitchen with your boys, watching as the two of them are already seated with stacked plates in front of them. You blink blankly at the scene.

You hesitate before taking a seat, sitting across from Johnny and resting your hands on the table, looking between the two of them as they converse casually.

"Take such good care o' us, bonnie, dunnae ken what I did to deserve ya," Johnny quips, looking at you with bright blue eyes and a genuinely content smile on his face between shoveling bites of food.

"Stopped bein' a bloody prick fer more than two seconds," Simon says, voice low and monotone yet somehow tinged with amusement.

You blink again. Huh "You kissed me?" You say it as a statement, but it comes out as a question as you look at Simon, ignoring their banter even though it makes you want to snort in amusement. You're too dumbfounded and bewildered right now to handle this situation. "Uh huh." Simon responds, flatly, like it's the most obvious thing in the world as he takes a bite of mashed potatoes. Johnny looks between the two of you, a slow smirk pulling at his lips, "LT, you sly dog," Johnny murmurs with clear amusement, elbowing the bigger man in the side playfully. You sputter for a moment, looking back over at Johnny, "A-and you're just- okay with that?!" You ask in utter confusion, bewildered but not exactly disappointed at the scene.

So you didn't cheat on your boyfriend with his best friend? Johnny looks at you and this time he blinks in confusion before turning his head and grabbing Simon's jaw, pulling him close and planting a kiss on Simon's lips, causing Simon to grunt in annoyance- only because he was still eating.

Johnny turns back to you with a shrug, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "Even?" You stare at the scene with heated cheeks before throwing your hands up in defeat, "...Even." You relent with a huff. ....can't cheat on your boyfriend with your other boyfriend who is also your boyfriends boyfriend you suppose.

[sunrizef1]

Guilty as sin?

Pairing: Max Verstappen x reader | (side) Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: Emotional cheating

Word count: 1.8k

Authors note: hate this kinda idk | Not proofread | I also do not condone cheating, this is just based on a Taylor swift song do not come for me

———————————————————

A text lights up your phone, illuminating the dark of your hotel room with the shine of a text message. You glance down at your sleeping boyfriend beside you, checking to see if he’s still deeply asleep before picking up your phone and sliding it open.

Max <3

The Downtown Lights - The Blue Nile

*Spotify link attached*

You sigh, closing your phone and setting it back onto your nightstand, eyes shutting tightly. You glance back over to Lando, asleep beside you, willing him to suddenly be a shittier person so you could feel less guilty about this.

Not that you and Max had done anything. You hadn’t. But it didn’t stop you from daydreaming about the Red Bull driver. It hadn’t stopped him either, apparently. You had heard the song, of course you had. Max sending it only confirmed that the less than platonic feelings between you were, in fact, reciprocated.

Just as you’re about to roll over and return to the sleep that had been evading you for more than a few hours, your phone lights up once again.

Max <3

I know you saw that

Come up to the roof

See you there

You roll your eyes at the texts, arrogance bleeding through every letter. Although, despite your holier than thou attitude, you do slide out of the bed, reaching down to a slide on a pair of slippers, praying the bed won’t creak as you stand up. Your feet pad quietly across the carpet of the hotel room, steps muffled by the fluff in your shoes.

You turn your phone to face the room, hoping it’s enough light to illuminate your way out. You step around your suitcase in the middle of the floor, cursing quietly as your foot catches on the zipper slightly. You catch yourself though, quickly grasping your key card and exiting the room.

Once you’re in the hallway, you let out a deep sigh, face relaxing under the fluorescent lights. You bit your lip, debating how worth it this tryst would be. You were fairly certain you were both into each other. All this meeting would be was another interaction where you both ignore your feelings and you have to lock the hints he was dropping away in a vault to never be considered again.

Even after considering the cons, you push yourself away from the wall, walking toward the stairs. You were already on the top floor so all you had between you and Max was a single set of stairs. You run a hand through your hair, hoping you don’t have a bad case of bedhead. Not that you had gotten enough sleep to mess your hair up at all anyway.

You slide the door open and set foot upon the stairs, trying not to wobble too much. Every step feels like it takes twenty minutes, every one leading to an unknown fate at the top. Your footsteps echo around the dark hall, sound bouncing off the concrete walls.

When you get to the top, you push the door open gently, cold air rushing to hit you as you step out. The door shuts closed behind you with a slam and you’re suddenly not sure if you’ll be able to get it open again. But it wasn’t really the time to care about that as your eyes lock on a familiar Dutch man sat on the edge of the roof.

Your feet patter gently against the roof, each step feeling quieter than the last. You take your time in approaching him, his head not even having turned your way since you set foot upon the place he had invited you. Not that you wanted him to turn around. You were worried that locking eyes with him would make you run away, or worse, make you more inclined to stay. So you just walk quietly to the edge, carefully swinging your legs over the side to sit a few feet away from him.

You’re not too worried about falling. There’s another edge just a few yards below you, no doubt there to stop rich drunk people from taking a nosedive off the roof during a party or after a wild night.

Cold air slides across your unusually warm face, heated with the reality of the situation. It’s not windy though, which is nice. Instead it’s just a nice chill, cold seeping through your thin sleep shirt and into your skin.

“I knew you’d come,” Max’s voice breaks the tranquility of the moment, cutting through the air with a familiar arrogant tilt.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, instead opting to hum lightly, eyes still locked onto the cityscape below you. You’d always loved Las Vegas. The city was always bursting with life and it was just so pretty to look at. Especially from above. It has shocked you when you’d walked out and the roof was empty. You’d’ve thought there’d be an abundance of people considering how little the city sleeps to begin with. You were honestly surprised Lando had chosen to stay asleep in your hotel room instead of stay out partying. Maybe when you’d told him it’d be better for him to get some sleep for once, he’d actually listened.

Maybe you should’ve listened to your own advice. You should’ve stayed asleep and completely avoided Max. Maybe then you wouldn’t feel like spewing your guts out on the many drunkards below.

“Not going to say anything, then?” Max laughs and you can feel his gaze on the side of your face. You fight the strong urge to lock eyes with him, “You don’t get to act like I’m the one coercing you here. You also chose to come up here.”

He’s right, of course. But you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

“Do you even like him?” Max questions and you can feel your stomach drop. You’d been thinking about that exact question for months now and you honestly were dreading the answer. You finally look away from the buildings in front of you to take a quick glance toward Max, his eyes already trained on yours.

You sigh, warm breath clouding in the cold night air, “I don’t know.”

Max makes a face at your words, shaking his head, “What do you mean you don’t know? How can you not know if you like your boyfriend?”

You roll your eyes, looking away from him again, arms crossing across your torso tightly, “I mean I don’t know, Max. I know the answer you want, trust me, I do. If it helps, I don’t love him. Not anymore, at least.”

“Yeah, no shit. I knew that. I’m asking if you like him,” Max scoffs, shifting closer to you. You roll your eyes again, finally giving in and turning your body toward his.

“He’s a fine person, Max. It just feels like neither of us even want this relationship anymore.”

“Then why are you still dating him?”

That makes you stop dead, letting out a shaky breath as you accept that you’d finally have to open up to the man next to you, “We’ve been together so long, I’ve tried so hard to make it work. I thought we were going to get married, honestly.”

You glance nervously over to Max, expecting to see an angry look on his face. Instead you’re met with one of understanding which shocks you back into speaking again, “I would’ve said yes if he’d asked.”

Max hums, discreetly shifting a bit closer as he turns to stare out at the city below you. You wait for his response with bated breath, praying he doesn’t hate you for basically leading him on.

“But he didn’t ask.”

“Yeah,” you nod, face filled with remorse for your relationship, “He didn’t.”

Max hums again, glancing above the two of you at the shining lights casting a soft glow upon the pair of you. Music begins to play softly from somewhere down below you. When you glance over the edge, you’re met with a street band preforming a nice ballad, swaying along to their melodies. When Max stands up, you think he’s going to leave you entirely but your eyebrows shoot up when he holds out a hand instead.

“Come on,” He says and you can feel your heart flutter as you catch the soft smile on his face. Something that hadn’t happened with Lando in a long while.

You grasp you hand in his, feeling the warmth of his larger hands spread into your chilly ones. He pulls you up gently, although maybe adding a bit too much strength as you fall flush against his chest. You laugh and stumble back a bit, hands still clutching his. He pulls you into a sway, gliding along to the melodic notes that float up from down below. You sit and take in the quiet moment for a little while, eventually moving your head to rest against his chest. The silence is broken when you glance up and see Max already looking down at you.

“I’m not gonna cheat on Lando,” you mumble, eyes softening as you stare up, “He doesn’t deserve that.”

If Max disagrees, he keeps it to himself well enough, choosing to nod instead, “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

You hum, placing your head back on his chest, “I do think about you though.”

Max tilts his head and his eyebrows furrow as the words leave your mouth. When you catch his expression, you feel the need to explain, “Just in life. Everything I do, I think about you doing it with me. I don’t know, just accept the compliment that I think about you when you’re not around, please.”

You can feel Max’ laugh rumble through his chest and you glance up to see his head titled back and his eyes closed as he chuckles softly before glancing back at you, smile still painting his face, “I can live with that. For now.”

You take a page out of his book and just hum in response, eyes falling closed as you, once again, lean against him. The two of you sway to the music for a while, only stopping when it does as well. You find yourself praying it never does so you never have to return to your reality where your boyfriend of six years has refused to put a ring on it so you went to one of his friends for emotional comfort and ended up falling in love with him. But the music does stop and you do return to that reality, feet padding softly down the hotel stairs.

You slide your keycard in the door, wincing at the sound it makes as it accepts it. You support the door as it closes, toeing off your shoes and tossing the keycard on your nightstand. You plug your phone into the charger, glancing down at the new texts on your home screen before sliding them away and rolling over to, hopefully, find sleep in a sleepless night.

Max <3

I'll wait for you btw

I knew about him

But now I know about you

If he kills me it'd be a wonderful way to die

For you

I'd wait forever, darling

————————————————————

Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

[mintmatcha]

Inevitable Things: chapter five

Aizawa x reader fic

cw: cisfem reader, no quirks, office au, miscommunications, slow burn. full tags available on AO3 (linked in masterlist)

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

Fridays are the only day you carve out time for lunch. Less than coincidentally, Fridays are also the only day lunch is catered.

“Here-” Izuku jams his bowl of take out into Katsuki’s face. “Does it smell like there’s peanuts in here?”

Bakugo Katsuki, Izuku’s fiance, is only half as ornery as he looks. A premature wrinkle has formed in between his brows, a sign of his almost constant annoyance. His straw colored hair is a sharp contrast to his deep red eyes, currently narrowed in disgust.

“Get this shit out of my fucking face,” he groans. “I’m not a fucking allergy alert dog-- I can’t smell peanuts.”

“To be fair-” Ochako interjects through a mouthful. She’s the opposite of Katsuki: dark hair, round eyes, a smile so sweet that it makes your teeth hurt. Her cheeks are always flushed, spots of broken blood vessels spattered like freckles. “Peanuts do have a smell.”

“Did you ask him to smell for penis?” Denki says, too loud to be genuine. “Kind of homophobic to ask a gay guy that.”

Both men give him identical deadpan stares.

“That’s just his fucking country-ass accent.” Katsuki brushes Denki off and turns back to the curly haired man. “Why would chicken have peanuts in it anyway?”

“The o’l.” Izuku stresses.

“The what?”

“Some places use peanut o’l.”

“Say oil.”

Izuku sneers a bit in return, smoothing out the curves of his accent. “Oy-I’ll.”

“Jesus christ, I’m marrying a hick.” Katsuki leans back in his chair and meets your eye with a jerk of his chin. “Can you believe this?”

You snap back into focus. Your own lunch is untouched, fork still in its little plastic wrapper. Hunger nips at your stomach, but nausea wins over today. The cafeteria isn’t very busy, but in the next couple minutes everyone will start pouring in. The lot of you arrived early to get the best seating-- a little couch and coffee table in the corner, a perfect place to eat and people watch.

“Oh, yeah, uh- Izuku, they have an allergen free option.”

“Well, yeah, but-” He tilts his head as he talks, watching you with those wide, green eyes, like he sees something just below the surface. “It doesn't have chicken-- are you good?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.” Katsuki fingers a piece of Izuku’s food and pops it into his mouth, much to the man’s dismay. “You’ve been making that sad little face all day.”

You pout a bit harder at that. Shit-- you thought you were being subtle. You haven’t been able to walk this whole Aizawa thing off yet, despite all of your attempts. No amount of emails, meetings, and other petty office bullshit managed to distract you from the absolute shock and humiliation of… whatever that was.

Embarrassment.

Embarrassment? You’re certainly not the prettiest girl in the office, but embarrassing? That makes your gums ache, like a punch to the nose, and it makes you feel dirty, like the fall to the ground afterwards.

“You’re doing it again.” Ochako points to your face and it’s apparently sadness. “What’s going on?”

You hem a bit, before condensing it the best you can.

“I’m having issues with a guy.” What an understatement.

A collective glance is shared between the group.

“Touya again?”

Again, Touya haunts a room he’s never been in. You debate what to say. If you admit to it being someone new, they might start sniffing around and jump to conclusions-- though Aizawa would certainly be the last assumption they would make, you still can’t risk it. Besides, you don’t need a gaggle of 23 year olds dissecting your every move. They’re going to jump to some stupid conclusion, like you’re dating Toshinori, if you aren’t careful.

“Yeah, it’s Touya,” you lie, as sheepishly as you can. “Oops.”

“Jesus Fucking Christ.” Katsuki rolls his eyes so hard that you imagine his brain must hurt. “Again?”

“Shh, just tell us what happened,” Izuku urges, elbowing his partner rather sharply.

“I don't know where I stand with him. It's so-- Ugh, I thought things were going to start going well and then it was just ice cold.” You press your palms into your eyes and sigh. The pressure feels good and helps with the remnants of your hangover. You need an electrolyte drink, stat. Maybe another fucking drink too. “And I’m not even sure why I’m surprised because it’s ice cold a lot.”

When you look up, Ochako is offering a hand, palm up and open. When you take it, she giggles a bit, squeezing gently.

“I think you need to prioritize yourself.”

Denki nods in agreement, cheeks stuffed with food. He’s finished his meal and started stabbing bits of yours. You just push the whole bowl towards him in defeat and slump down into the couch.

“Stop giving men who treat you poorly the time of day.” Ochako says. “When you let them in again and again, you’re basically, like, giving them permission to do this stuff.”

“Yeah!” Denki says through a mouthful. “Cut that fucker off! Don’t even talk to him!”

“Oh, I dunno--” You glance between them. “I think that’d be mean.”

Conflict makes your head spin. It’s so much easier to roll over and take whatever people give you, negative or otherwise. It’s what made your relationship with Touya work-- and it’s what’s allowed you to stay in this job for so long.

“Good!” Denki says. “He deserves it.”

“You deserve to be a little mean and a little angry when people treat you poorly.” She smiles again, wider this time. “Grow some balls. Stand up for yourself.”

“Yeah! Balls!” Denki agrees.

You suck on your bottom lip and turn the idea over in your head. Are you even angry at Aizawa? Or just hurt and confused? Right now, those things may as well be the same thing-- they certainly burn the same in your chest. Cruelty isn’t your usual indulgence…

But it’s someone else’s.

“What do you think?” You turn to Katsuki, who’s been scrolling through twitter for a bit now. His face doesn’t change when he speaks, locked into a general annoyance.

“I think you should kill that fucker.”

You turn to Izuku, the rational one of the couple. He shrugs, straw in mouth and completely unamused.

“Oh, I also think you should kill him,” he says, tone matching Katsuki’s.

Not helpful.

“Listen--” Katsuki leans forward, elbows on his spread knees. He uses a fork to articulate as he speaks. “I’m the expert on being a cunt-”

“-we don’t use that word!” Ochako grimaces.

“And it’s the most freeing and addictive thing you can be.” The tongs of the fork point directly towards you, as sharp as his gaze. “More people should be cunts more often. The world would be a happier place.”

Ochako gasps. “I don’t agree with that at all!”

“Oh please, miss goody-goody,” Katsuki sneers. “You wouldn't need to go to kickboxing five times a week if you let your anger out day to day like a normal motherfucker.”

The girl of the group puffs out her cheeks, but does not argue back. Izuku pats her shoulder affectionately. His food is still untouched, but his free hand guards it from Denki.

“I'm telling you. Try it out. You’ll like it.” Katsuki leans back into his seat. “Or don't. Your life.”

“Question-” The other blonde pipes up. “Did you, like, do something?”

“Kaminari!”

“I mean, like, was there a catalyst?” “A fight or a date or-?”

You know exactly what drives Touya away everytime, but Aizawa is a new beast. Did you breathe wrong or--

“Oh, I uh,” A realization hits you. “I ignored a couple texts, I guess.”

Suddenly, you’re very aware of the outline of your phone and how it presses into your pocket. If there wasn’t a chance of you flashing the group pictures of their boss, you’d check it immediately, but you can’t mentally handle the risk.

“What an overreaction,” Ochako sighs. “Dump him forever and move on-- Mr. Hizashi and his wife-”

“We aren’t like that.” Ugh. You love Hizashi, but the trio relationship isn’t your speed. “Besides, I don’t like blondes.”

The two toe-heads of the group roll their eyes in a practiced synchrony. Ochako’s smile changes a little bit, something tighter and brighter; is she excited that you aren’t interested? Interesting and a bit gross: she’s too young for that. They’re more than ten years older than her-

(How old is Aizawa? He went to school with Hizashi, so he’s at least 38-- but you could have sworn there were whispers of his fortieth last year. You’ll have to snoop.)

“We’re in agreement. Be a cunt, move on. The end.” Katsuki turns away from you, done with this topic. “Izuku, just fucking eat it already.”

The boy takes a deep breath and runs his fingers through his curly hair. “Well, alright, but if I get hives, you’re the one who has to deal with me.”

…

Be mean.

You’re written it on a sticky note and placed it under your computer monitor, like some sort of fucked up mantra. The mere idea of it feels antithetical to who you are at your core; you enjoy helping people, you love making the world better. That’s why you work like a dog for the company-- you know it’s improving the lives of its customers. If Toshinori wasn’t sick, you know he’d be doing even more too.

On the other hand, being nice has led to your own detriment many times. Touya has hurt you, your parents, and now even Aizawa. And you can’t even blame Aizawa, can you? Texting him was your mistake--

You rest your forehead against your desk. There’s still a sticky spot from when you spilled your coffee yesterday. God, yesterday feels so close and yet so far away. How does a man yoyo between yelling at you, sending you his weiner, then telling you that you’re embarrassing? The idea of ‘always wanted you’ goes flying out the window.

Just as you try and put yourself to work, you hear it. The familiar lopsided stomp. Fuck, it’s him, probably looking for his afternoon coffee. He’s been by much less than usual, a fact you’re very grateful for, so you haven’t even thought about the pot since before lunch. You glance over and see it’s empty. Crap.

As you start to get up, the sticky note catches your eye again. Be mean. That’s right. Why are you popping out of your chair for this, this, this--- total fucking cunt? Your chair squeaks with the force you sit down with. You try to embody Katsuki with your face - furrowing your brow and yet keeping your mouth unaffected-- and your worst nightmare turns the corner.

You keep typing and hope Aizawa doesn't notice that it's the same words over and over again, hit in the same rhythm. P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l. He waits a long moment, then clears his throat louder. You don't gift him your attention until he grumbles something under his breath, shifting his weight on to his other leg. Just as he begins to say something, you interject.

“I had more important things to focus on,” you lie. “You can figure out how to brew coffee, Mr.// Engineer.”

You throw in that last bit without thinking, but the bite rolls so easily off of your tongue. It’s nothing like your usual tone, but it feels so, so right. From the corner of your vision you can see his literally reel back, blinking hard,

“That’s how it’s going to be?”

You don’t respond. P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l. Your fingers shake from the adrenaline boost. Ochako was right; don't even give this man the time of day.

“It's going to be like that?” He yanks the pot from its stand. “Fine.”

You have to muster all of willpower not to grin as he starts slamming open the drawers and scrounging around for supplies. It takes a whole ten minutes before he presses brew, then another five before the pot is almost half full. The whole time he grumbles to himself, leaning his whole weight against the flimsy table.

This is good. Too good. The vindictive rush of power feels almost sexual in the way it satisfies. Teeth dig into your lip as you hold back a smile even harder.

Embarrassment? You'll show him what embarrassment really means.

Finally, he pours himself a cup. He doesn't fill his thermos nearly as much as he normally does, most likely trying to leave as quickly as possible. Just as he starts to turn, you get up out of your chair and walk over. You take one of the little disposable cups from the stack and take your time adding three sugars and two cream, each one at a time, as he lurks there. Then, you pour the coffee, thick and oddly gritty into your cup. You finally meet his eye when you take a swig.

Aizawa’s face is set hard, small eyes narrowed even tighter. His lips are screwed up with annoyance, wrinkling his low bridged nose. Pissed would be an understatement. Just as you brace for another yelling match, he turns away, marching down the hall.

“Enjoy the fucking coffee.”

Oh, Katsuki was right. Being mean tastes good.

….This coffee, however, does not.

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

is it over now? (was it over then?)

part two

part three: you search in every model's bed for something greater

Steve had been doing his best trying to go back to some semblance of normal after Eddie walked out of his life. It wasn't easy and he spent countless nights dreaming up how he could have handled it differently or made Eddie stay or call Robin immediately and beg her to let him tell Eddie (Steve knew she would have but he hadn't wanted to ask her). He knew he could have done countless things differently but the result probably would have ended up the same. At the end of the day, Eddie didn't trust him and at the most basic crux of everything nothing else really mattered.

He was happy for Nance and Robin though. That was the big secret of it all. Robin wasn't ready to come out publicly and Steve offered to let Nancy stay at his place so that if there was any press it would be tied to him and not Robin. Eddie came over at maybe the worst time before he had been able to clear everything with Robin and Nancy was still sleeping off the jet lag from whatever Eastern European country she was reporting in that month. Steve and Nancy had an on again off again thing as kids when they were both getting famous in their own fields having grown up in the same small town. Steve knew Nance was bigger than him but it still stung when they finally admitted it to each other.

Thankfully, the next project Steve was on he met Robin who was the light of his life and his soulmate. He'd been pretty convinced they'd get married at one point until Robin drunkenly admitted she was gay on the bathroom floor of some random afterparty their heads a little fizzy from the champagne. Their relationship quickly pivoted from romantic to platonic and Steve was more than happy to play arm candy to stave off any rumors Robin was sick of circulating. As the years passed and Robin and Steve's circles melded together, Robin and Nancy started gravitating together and even Steve couldn't deny they were kind of perfect together. He'd happily agreed to lend whatever subterfuge he could to keep the two out of the tabloids. Unfortunately he hadn't really thought about bringing his boyfriend in on the plot until a little too late. Fuck him for thinking Eddie would trust Steve though, right? Steve was trying to be more positive as he didn't want to burst Robin and Nancy's new relationship bubble with his grumpy attitude. Instead he was doing what he normally did after a bad breakup -- wallowing and forgetting it happened.

Tabloids followed him around and accused him of sleeping with everyone including Robin’s secret girlfriend but in reality he was mostly at home only scheduling nights out every so often to give the girls some privacy at his loft. Nancy had convinced Robin to head out to the Hudson Valley to have some alone time outside of Steve's apartment so Steve was using his night at home alone to rot on the couch flipping through channels until he spotted a familiar flash of dark curls hammering away on his guitar apparently playing some new single.

Steve was livid. He would’ve been pissed if he had found out about the song in a more low key way way like scrolling through TikTok or getting a text from Robin but he was fucking livid because he found out about the song when Eddie fucking Munson was on Jimmy Kimmel.

Apparently, Eddie had thought it would be fun to release an unexpected single ahead of his band’s rumored fourth album. Steve knew Eddie had to have seen the tabloid fodder after he started going out again making headlines about how his and Robin’s relationship was on the rocks and Steve was auditioning most of the city to take her place. However, he hadn’t expected for Eddie to believe all of the rumors about him. 

Steve's relationship with the tabloids had always been trying. From his very public breakup with Nancy (who everyone asserted won because she immediately starting seeing Jon) to his "slut era" before "settling down" with Robin and more recently to speculating on his relationship with Eddie and what happened with Robin. Steve and Robin had a pretty long discussion about how to handle Eddie and if she wanted Steve to keep Eddie quiet so they could continue playing up their relationship. Robin had given her blessing but Robin wasn't quite ready to come out to anyone outside their tight nit circle of friends even though Steve and Eddie quickly became inseparable. Eddie had understood when Steve told him about Robin's agent and how it was helpful if there were at least rumors of the two dating even though it couldn't be farther from the truth. While they hadn't been super public with their relationship fans of both Steve and Eddie speculated in comments to pictures and stories the two posted but the boys never confirmed anything other than a few cheeky hearts here and there.

Steve had learned about Eddie because one of this kids he grew up babysitting was a huge Corroded Coffin fan and begged Steve to bring him as his plus one to some award show the band was also nominated at. Steve tried to explain to Dustin that is was not common to just run into famous people while they were heading to the carpet but of course the universe proved him wrong and they were right behind Eddie Munson himself. Dustin never had any sense of social propriety so he went right up to Eddie and introduced himself. Steve had pretty quickly fallen for Eddie's quick wit and how kind Eddie was to one of Steve's kids. Steve hung back in the wings but became enamored with the man from afar. Later when they found themselves at the same 30 under 30 event Robin all but pushed Steve into Eddie to force him to finally talk to him. They pretty quickly fell into the rhythm of exclusivity and from there it was a short road to boyfriends.

Early on in their relationship, Steve had thought Eddie and him had gotten over the hump of his history with the press. When Steve and Eddie had started going out on dates without trying to be coy about anything, there was lot of rumors that Steve was cheating on Robin. It had taken a lot of long nights and talks but Eddie seemed to trust that so much of Steve's public persona was presented by reporters who were only looking for a story. Steve thought they'd moved past believing rumors about each other that the press loved to spin. Eddie's song made it pretty clear Eddie believed every shitty headline or tweet or deuxmoi that had come out about Steve fucking his way across town.

It wasn't like Steve could have even tried to set the record straight with Eddie. Steve had tried to contact Eddie shortly after reorienting a very confused and awake Nancy after Eddie slammed Steve's apartment door. Steve didn't tell Nancy exactly what happened but he did tell her that Eddie broke up with him. She held him as he sobbed and realized each way he had to contact Eddie was gone. He'd blocked his number, blocked all of his socials, turned off any messaging Steve could think of.

Steve was devastated Eddie thought Steve was the man the tabloids presented him as even thought he'd worked really hard to make sure all his found family knew he wasn't that person. Apparently Eddie had forgotten all of that. It certainly wasn't helping that Eddie's song was already a Tik Tok trend and Steve was enough of a masochist to scroll through the sound. Steve found far too many edits of him and Eddie timed to the chorus.

Steve felt like he couldn’t escape it or figure out how to at least tell his side of the story. Anything he said would just make him seem like an asshole for moving on so quickly or trying to cover up for cheating on his ex, so Steve kind of resigned himself to private wallowing.

In the end, it wasn't even really all of that that hurt Steve the most. Steve couldn't help but fixate on that one line.

at least I had the decency to keep my nights out of sight

Steve was heartbroken that Eddie had already moved on. Steve may have been going out and putting on a smile at whatever club or restaurant he was passing time in that night. As much as the magazines wanted the world to believe Steve was finding a home in a new girl's bed every night, reentering his notorious bad boy era, Steve went home alone or found himself with Nancy and Robin cuddling on his couch. In Steve’s less than proud moments late at night when he lay awake staring at the ceiling, he’d pull up Eddie’s public insta and may or may not have set up a google alert for any references to Eddie or his band. None of that prepared him for the reality of hearing Eddie croon about his new relationship with someone who wasn't Steve.

Steve had been trying to keep the specifics of their breakup from Robin and Nance. He knew they'd both feel terrible and with no real way to contact Eddie it wasn't worth dragging Robin and Nancy down with him. After going down a Tik Tok rabbit hole listening to people say all kinds of terrible shit about him and doubting his sincerity with Eddie, Steve slunk out of his room to where Nancy and Robin were finishing up their Thursday night movie.

"Steve?" Robin asked as soon as she saw Steve wrapped up in his blanket, eyes puffy and red.

"Rob, I need to talk to you about something." Steve sat across from his friends, tucked his knees into his chest and got ready to dive into the reasons Eddie actually left.

part four

@lololol-1234 (we're getting close to the happy ending i promise)

(if you saw this version earlier when i forgot how i had these two fools meet, no you didn't)

[mcuamerica]

The Shadowsinger: Five

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. Angst, implied SA, Tamlin and Amarantha are mentioned, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairings: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel’s off on a mission, so you train with Cassian. Upon returning, the Spymaster doesn’t like seeing you with his brother.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

Prologue - One - Two - Three - Four

The next morning, you were up early but no one was there for breakfast with you. And instead of Azriel, Cassian was in the training ring. “Oh… is Azriel not here today?” You asked.

“He’s got some spying to do, so I’ll keep up with your training.” He said.

Of course Azriel wouldn’t want to keep training you along with his spying. He had so many more important things to do than babysit an amateur Shadowsinger. And it was very apparent from the training session yesterday that you didn’t know nearly as much as him.

“You ready? Or do you need to stare off into the distance for a little longer?” Cassian said and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I’m ready, Commander.” You teased, getting in the position he started with the warm ups.

Cassian was more brutal than Azriel was, enough so that you were thinking Azriel was going easy on you. The prick. Cass made you sit in squats for longer, balance with your wings stretched out or tucked in more. It was all you could do by the end of it to not fall down the stairs to the House.

“Az said to give you these.” Cassian said and handed you a basket, your muscles groaning at the extra weight. “Said something about an owing you a massage when he got back.”

Your eyes widened and face flushed before you heard Cassian let out a loud chuckle. “You’re almost as bad as him.” He said and laughed. “For spies, you sure don’t hold back when you get embarrassed.” Cass said and winked at you before going to the dining room.

You set the basket in your room, opting to take a bath first before you went to the dining room to dig into the roast that was waiting for you. Then, you went to the library to start on your research into the Cauldron.

You never saw Gwyn. Though Rhys told you that the new priestesses normally took a while to adjust before being out of their dorms. What happened to her just yesterday made your stomach turn… and you couldn’t imagine how horrible it must have been for her to wake up today in a new place. You’d have to ask Clotho how she was doing when you got the chance.

You didn’t learn anything new about the Cauldron, but you brought more books up to the personal library to read more.

You still wondered how Feyre was doing with Tamlin. You remember when Rhys told you the story of what Tamlin’s family did to Rhys’s mother and sister. And how Tamlin himself had killed Rhys’s father. Hearing about the rage that Tamlin held that day… you’d hope it had changed. You’d hoped that Feyre was happy with him, and that he would treat her well. Still, the thought of Feyre with him was unsettling to you. You couldn’t figure it out, and your shadows seemed to be just as disturbed by it whenever it came to your mind.

As you read into the night, waiting to see if you heard Azriel come back, you couldn’t help as your mind wander to how lucky you were that you ended up here after Amarantha died. How you found friends that seemed to care about you, and a High Lord that didn’t just want to use you for his own bidding, but wanted you around because he trusted you. You could get used to calling Velaris, in all its beauty, your home. And these new friends your family.

Azriel didn’t come back to the House of Wind for two weeks. Cassian had taken up your training, and you were already learning how to handle a sword (with the wooden practice ones) when Azriel watched you both from the steps.

He had been searching for the other parts of the Cauldron, ordering his spies to find out anything they could about what Hybern planned to do with it. And he only figured out that Hybern had Jurian’s eye and finger bone. Someone had snuck it off of Amarantha’s body before Tamlin killed her. He still couldn’t find out how, or who.

Seeing you work with Cassian strained something in him. A desire to be around you, or the jealousy that Cass was training you and he wasn’t. Azriel couldn’t tell what it was. Either way, he was almost proud to see you doing so well. What took most young Illyrian’s years to master, you had seem to do it in two weeks. All while taking flying lessons with Cassian as well. Cass told him that you were doing great with all of it. Better than any male he’s trained, actually. And you took it in stride too. Doing everything that Cassian threw at you. He even loaded a pack on your chest two days ago and had you fly up and down the mountain for two hours. You were almost ready to throw the pack at him by the end of it. But you knew it was to build up your strength. If you were going to be carrying Illyrian blades and a bow, you would need it.

Azriel knew you could do good. From the moment you agreed to train, he knew you had the motivation in you to do it. Whether it be from hate of what your family did to you, or from dedication to not let it happen again, he knew you would do it. He wanted to be the one to train you. He wanted to see that dedication every day. He hadn't seen an Illyrian learn so fast in a long time, and he knew it was a testament to an underlying power that brewed within you. That his shadows whispered to him about.

And yet, he took the first mission Rhys offered. There was something about you that pulled his attention every time you were in the room. And he couldn’t place it. His shadows wouldn’t tell him anything. And your few shadows that danced around his ankles up to his hands and neck whenever he was close to you drove him crazy. It’s like he couldn’t get enough of you but also didn’t want to get too close. He couldn’t handle getting close and you pushing him away. Or going for another male like Rhys or Cass. Like Mor had done when she chose Cassian over him. And then never acknowledged him more than a close friend. Family. Nothing like he wanted. He may have given up on her a long time ago, but sometimes it still stung.

So he took the mission to keep his distance. No matter the tug he felt when he was around you. He fought it. And kept his thoughts and emotions about you to himself.

“Azriel!” He heard your voice say, followed by a yelp when Cassian hit your stomach with the butt of the sword.

“Really, Cass?” You growled and nudged him away before jogging over to Azriel. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. Where have you been?” You asked, catching your breath.

“We’re not done!” Cassian yelled at you, but you simply stared at Azriel, waiting for an answer.

All Azriel could do was trail his eyes up the leathers you were wearing. The way they clung to your curves. The way they were already filled out much more than they were that first training day. Your hair was in a braid, but little wisps if it were out, clinging to your forehead with sweat.

“Azriel?” You asked again, not shifting under his stare like you had before. Training like this with Cassian had made you much more confident. Like you were before Amarantha came and tore your life apart. You still didn’t want to admit how much those 50 years effected you. Even if they were still recent. You wanted to put them in the past and not think about them any more that you were required. And luckily, no one had asked you much after the first day of telling them your story.

Cassian bounded over, patted Azriel on the shoulder in a way of greeting, and then picked you up over his shoulder.

“Cassian!” You yelled and clenched your fists. “Put me down,” you ground out.

“No chance, you are still training. And no pretty boy is going to distract you. Got it?” He asked and you grumbled. “Got it?” He asked again.

“Yes! Cauldron… Now put me down before I start clawing your wings.” You said firmly. He set you down back in the middle of the training ring and handed you the sword you discarded.

“What’s the number one rule I taught you about your weapon?” He asked.

“The pointy end goes away from you?” You remarked, earning a swipe of his own sword, which you blocked. “Don’t drop it in the middle of a fight without a purpose.” You said and knocked his sword back.

Azriel watched as you bantered with Cassian almost as seamlessly as you fought. At one point, you had Cassian so speechless and stunned that you were able to knock his sword from his hand. It was at that point that Cassian knocked you from your feet, your sword clattering much farther away from you than his. Cass always did want to be the one to win the battle.

It was everything Azriel could do to not go and help you out. Or coach you on how to get out from under him. Especially since Cassian was much larger than you. Not to mention better trained.

He must have been feeling generous, or you got the drop on him (probably the former) because you were able to use his weight against him and flip the two of you over so you were on top. Straddling his hips, your hands mere inches from the tips of his wings. Panting.

“Rhys wants us in the dining room for lunch.” Azriel called out, knowing that Rhys would wait. And if he really wanted you all to meet, he could speak mind-to-mind easily. But Azriel couldn’t stand to see you in that position with Cassian. And he couldn’t stop himself for imagining him under you instead. He quickly turned on his heel and vanished with his shadows back to his room.

“Just when it was getting fun.” You joked as you stood up and held out a hand for Cassian, who let out a booming laugh.

“Keep saying things like that and Az might slice me to bloody ribbons.” He joked and you shrugged.

“I doubt it. He doesn’t seem too interested in me.” You said as you grabbed a glass of water and downed it. “And if he is, he sure has a weird way of showing it. He ignored me the whole first month, trained me one day, and then disappeared on a two week mission. And he’s still ignoring me.” You muttered and downed another glass of water.

“Hmm… let’s show him what he’s missing, then,” Cass said and slung an arm around your shoulder, avoiding your wings. Your shadows curled away slightly from his touch. Not in a bad way, but in a way that didn’t happen with Azriel. They always curled around him. Even if he wasn’t touching you, but in the same room. You always tacked it up to him being a Shadowsinger himself, and maybe it was comforting for your shadows to have someone else to cling to. You still barely knew how the things worked. Even after having them around for a hundred years.

You knew how to hide in them, how to listen and talk to them, how to winnow with them. But not much else. It was still a hassle most of the time when you wanted to control them. So if a few of your shadows wanted a more experienced singer to cling to, you were more than willing to let them. For a little while. You still liked your shadows. If you ever had to go without them, you wouldn’t know what to do. Wouldn’t have the comforting feel of them whirling your ankles and wings. Throughout your hair.

“Come out with us tonight.” Cassian said once you made it down the stairs.

You looked up at his towering form and rose your eyebrows. “Where?” You asked. Even the first month of you here, you didn’t go out with them. You didn’t go into the city much either, barely even visited the town home. You didn’t want to impose on it just yet. And it was too many people who would be watching your every move. Like they did when you worked for her. So you stayed in the House. And you liked it. Plus, you started to see Gywn around the library, not speaking to anyone, but at least she was out of her dorm.

“To Rita’s. I know Mor would love it. She’s been complaining that you didn’t come last week.” He said and you smiled a bit. You quite liked the female. She was bright and full of energy. And she didn’t take shit from the boys. And barely took it from Amren, who still scared you enough to not meet her eye.

“I don’t have much to wear.” You said, Cassian cringing as you both heard a yelp from down the stairs to the dining room.

“Did I hear that we’re going shopping?” Mor said and bounded over to the bottom of the stairs, bouncing on her heels.

“I didn’t say that.” You teased as you stepped down beside her.

“Oh, please? I’ll help you pick out the perfect outfit.” She said and nudged you. You winced a bit, still sore from the training. Your braid was still a mess. But you didn’t care, you were starving and just wanted to eat. Even if you looked ridiculous.

As if reading your thoughts, your shadows swirled around your head, either covering or smoothing your hair, you couldn’t tell. Either way, you silently thanked them.

“Hmm.. fine. But I would prefer to go when it’s not too crowded…” you said and she gave you a knowing look. As if she too knew what it was like to want to hide away. You weren’t sure how she would ever feel like that. You figured she got more energy from being around people, new people, than anyone else. Where as for you… well you learned to like your solitude. Probably from the years you spent locked in your cabin while your family went to train. And then the years following that was spent in a village with no more than 50 inhabitants.

“So you’ll come out with us tonight?” Cassian asked as you entered the dining room with them.

Shrugging again, you answered, “Sure. Though if people start asking me to do party tricks with my shadows, I’m leaving.” You said and rolled your shoulders back, tucking in your wings.

“Trust us, they won’t. Not when Az is the only Shadowsinger they knew and he once stabbed someone for looking at him the wrong way.” Mor joked and you furrowed your eyebrows. Even though Azriel was a little cold to you, you could tell he was kind. Especially with the way this family acted with him.

“He was 38 and we were recovering from the war, remember?” Rhys added from his spot at the table. “And that was in Hewn. Everyone in Hewn would be stabbed if they looked at Az the way that male did.” He mentioned and then leaned back. He didn’t have his wings out today, so you figured this was a business lunch more than a formal one. They had all mainly been away, or you’d been I’m your room burying your nose in the books on the Cauldron. Or they had been meeting in the town home. Definitely not around you.

Soon you were all settled, Azriel appearing before the meal was served and sitting next to Rhys and Amren. Cassian was on your right, and Mor on your left. That left the other three across from you. It felt like someone was missing from the table, but as you counted around, you knew that was everyone.

After you had all ate a couple bites (Amren pushing her food around like always), Rhys looked up, setting his utensils down. “Cassian, I need you to go to Windhaven.” Rhys said. “See how the army is coming along. And if the females are being trained properly.” He said, then looked at you. “And I would prefer if you went along.” He said.

“Just with Cassian? Don’t you need to introduce me as emissary?” You asked and Rhys shook his head.

“Cass is the commander of my armies. If he says they’re to listen to you, they will.” Rhys said and you rose your eyebrows. You knew Illyrians. And you knew that wasn’t true. You also knew that Rhys knew it too. But you weren’t going to push, so you nodded.

“How long do you want me there?” Cassian asked.

“Two weeks, and then you can come back in time for the Solstice.” He said. “We’ll spend it in the townhome.”

“You think Devlon is ready for another Shadowsinger?” Azriel piped in.

“The question is, do you think Devlon is ready for the first female Shadowsinger?” Cassian asked.

You hummed. “I think you all need to be asking if Devlon is ready for me. I’m not just a Shadowsinger, you know.” You said, crossing your arms. “And I think the answer is no. Devlon used to be a friend of my father’s. He very might well faint when he recognizes me to be the daughter of Rechard Vash.” You stated and smirked.

“I like how you think, girl.” Amren said and leaned back in her chair, her arm draped over the arm of it. “I say Devlon has whatever is coming to him from her,” she said as she looked at Rhys.

He only chuckled as he went back to eating. “Was that it?” You asked and leaned forward. “Or should I leave so you can discuss what Azriel learned on that mission?” You asked.

None of them stiffened at your tone, or the implication that they didn’t trust you.

“I merely wanted to finish my food,” Rhys said with an easy smile. “But if you’re eager to learn about what the Spymaster learned, go ahead Az.” He said and took another bite of the roast.

“I didn’t learn anything useful,” Azriel said. “Well, other than that there are two pieces of the Cauldron missing and I still have no clue where the third one is. Though, it’s probably in a temple.” He said. “Hopefully here. If it’s in another Court… that’ll be harder to detect.” He finished.

“I never thought you’d be one to be down on yourself,” you said, taking a bite of vegetables. “Sounds like you learned quite a lot.”

Once again, he ignored you and looked at Rhys. “Any chance I can go back to Sangravagh and examine it again?” He asked and Rhys waved his hand. “Go where you need to, but I still have one more thing to ask of you when we’re done with lunch.” He said.

As much as you wanted to slump into your chair, you stayed still as you ate. You didn’t know what you did wrong to have Azriel act so indifferent towards you. Of all the Inner Circle, you thought you would bond with him the most. Being a Shadowsinger… it wasn’t easy. It was rare and the looks that you got. The burdens that you had to carry. You figured only he would understand. But he didn’t even try to speak to you.

And it continued into the night, after you went shopping with Mor. She even had Rhys’s in-house tailor fix all the clothing so your wings would fit seamlessly around them. All in time to go to Rita’s.

A/N: This is a fun little chapter with some of Az’s pov - a little longer than the rest. When the IC + our reader goes to Rita's in the next chapter... I think you'll enjoy it!!

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[lordoftime01]

(A rewrite of sorts)

Yang: Lying in bed with her head handing off the side

Yang: "Ugh! It's been soooo boring since team JNPR got sent on that mission several months ago."

Ruby: "Hey, at least there was a bright side. Since it was Miss Goodwitch that went with then, Combat Class has become a free time."

Weiss: "I still can't believe that Professor Ozpin had Miss Goodwitch go with them. Especially considering her condition."

Yang: "Oh don't worry I'm su-" Interrupted and startled by a loud yelling.

???: "OH MY BROTHERS!!! IT FEELS SO GOOD TO BE BACK!"

???: "It is nice to be back, yeah. Those Grimm just never seemed to end"

???: "Oh yeah, and if it hadn't been for fearless leader unlocking his semblance, we could have been goners"

______

Yang/Ruby/Weiss: In their heads 'Wait, Vomit Boy/Jaune/That dunce finally unlocked his semblance"

______

???: "And even better that he saved his and Miss Goodwitch's baby"

______

Yang: "Wait, not only did Jaune unlock his semblance, but he also knocked up the goodbitch our teacher?!"

______

???: "Thank you... Nora for reminding me of that... really appreciate it"

Yang/Ruby/Weiss: Huddle around their dorm room door to be able to hear much better. They heard Nora, Ren, and Pyrrha but haven't heard Juane yet.

Nora: "You know Pyrrha, you have no one to blame but yourself"

Ren: "Yeah. Nora and I told you that if you didn't tell him soon-"

Nora: "Then someone else was going to be his"

Pyrrha: "You're right. I took too long to confess my feelings. And I lost him to our teacher of all people. There has to be some sort of law against that." The pain and hurt in her voice was evident

Pyrrha: Punches the wall hard enough for it, and the surrounding area to rattle a bit.

Blake: Burst out of the bathroom wearing only a towel, pen and notebook in hand. Bowling over her teammates and slamming the door open, startling _NPR

Blake: "What's this I hear about Jaune knocking up Miss Goodwitch!? Give me the details, leave nothing out"

Nora: "Ok so apparently Jaune Jaune and Miss Goodwitch banged each other on Velentine's day." She had a shit-eating grin on her face as the sound of Pyrrha crunching JNPR's door handle was heard.

Nora: "And from what I know, the two of them had been together together for a few months before that." She proceeded to go into great detail of all that she knew.

Glynda: Carefully sits down while groaning. One hand on the chair to help stabilize, the other hand on her extended belly.

Jaune: Comes in with some tea and quickly rushes over to help her

Glynda: "Don't worry Jaune, I had it." Gives Jaune a peck on the lips

Glynda: "Thank you though. I really appreciate it"

Jaune: "You really shouldn't be moving yourself so much. We already had that close call with the Beringel." Pours Glynda some tea before giving it to her.

Jaune: "Ozpin has even told you are to take it easy." He sits beside Glynda and wraps one arm around her shoulder, pulling her close while he places his free hand over Glynda's hand and belly, intertwining his fingers with hers.

Glynda: "Oh, but I'm sure there's so much paperwork that is backed up. Paperwork that I'm 100% sure that Ozpin didn't do and so will just push the work load onto me." Her voice had a slight whine to it as she sipped her tea.

Jaune and Glynda just sat there in silence, enjoying each other's company. Their eyes widened in surprise when they felt their child moving inside Glynda's womb, a smile on their faces as they just basked in the moment.

The two of them hadn't been able to get much alone time during the mission. Now was the perfect chance for them to make up for lost time. Glynda turned her head and gently pressed her lips against Jaune when there was a loud knock on the door.

Glynda: Let's out a groan as their alone time was interrupted. She struggles a bit to get up from her position

Jaune: Gently, yet firmly, keeps her seated as he gets up to see who it was. At the door was Ozpin with a large stack of papers.

Ozpin: "Ah hello, Mr Arc. If you would be so kind as to hand Glynda these papers. I'd be ever so grateful."

[aurumacadicus]

@ifdragonscouldtalk fuckin deleted the post thinking I had saved the screenshots smh. Anyway 69 😎

--

"Spock, I need a favor," Leonard said.

Spock blinked slowly, the words taking a moment to really register. Of all the people he ever expected to ask for a favor, Leonard would have been on the bottom of the list. In fact, he'd be on a whole separate list, titled 'will die rather than ask for help.' But then, Jim might be the one who needed help, and they needed a cooler head to prevail.

Or someone with a stronger punch. But he hoped it was the former.

Spock finally turned from where he'd been examining a particularly interesting carved statue and blinked again, very hard, when he saw the flower crown on Leonard's head. It was made of what looked like Terran hedera, small pink hyacinthus, and blue myosotis. It was different from all the other flower crowns he'd seen so far, woven only with plumeria.

"So unfair that you don't have to participate in this stupid festival," Leonard grumbled, scowling up at him.

"If the Captain had listened to me, none of you would have to participate in the Florum's customs," Spock explained, for what felt like the umpteenth time. He turned his gaze on the festivities, watching as one of the green-skinned Florum plucked a flower growing from their breast and placed it in the crown of another. "As it stands, Vulcans are offensive to the Florum peoples, especially in their nuptiae rites. Flowers, as you know, are not abundant in the hot, dusty climate of Vulcan, and--"

"Listen," Leonard cut in impatiently. "Just--pretend to be my date, okay?"

Spock stared at him for a moment. Then, quite inelegantly, he said, "I'm quite certain I misheard you, Doctor."

"You didn't, the Florum are trying to get in my pants, and I have never been more uncomfortable in my life," Leonard hissed, glancing over his shoulder at the milling of peoples on the marble courting floor. "I haven't been with anyone since--Look, I just. I don't like this. I'm not Jim. I'm not--"

He really did look deeply uncomfortable, Spock realized as he watched Leonard shift nervously on his feet, trying to keep his back to any of the Florum's wandering eyes. He'd only come off the ship in an effort to learn more about the Florum's medical procedures. Apparently, the clean, clinical smell of the medical crew was like catnip to a cat. It made sense to Spock, what with Terran medicine starting in the use of plants to treat ailments.

But that didn't matter if Leonard was uncomfortable, he reminded himself. And while the Florum were known to engage in non-monogamous behavior, they were aware that more territorial species existed.

"...I know we can't hold hands," Leonard added haltingly. "I don't... know how else to show..."

Spock nodded. Of course he wouldn't know how else to show casual affection without it being too much. He and Jim were always all over each other. Vulcans were more reserved, though, and Spock even more so. Still, he thought, narrowing his eyes at an approaching Florum. He was Chief Science Officer. It would be unconscionable to leave Leonard to suffer while he was uncomfortable.

"Leonard," Spock said firmly, laying his arm over Leonard's shoulders and pivoting on one foot to turn him and lead him further away from the nuptiae floor. "I saw a particular sculpture of the Florum's deity of medicine that I think you'll find interesting. Come along."

"Oh," Leonard squeaked, and Spock couldn't tell if he sounded confused or embarrassed. That was fine, though. The Florum did not feel either of those emotions and wouldn't understand it even if they sensed it. "Okay."

Another Florum approached them. Spock paused only long enough to snarl at it wordlessly, and Leonard let out a noise he'd never heard before, so he whisked him away from the marble floor entirely. If asked, Spock would explain that since Florum didn't understand spoken language, he was just warning it off in a way that was expedient. He had to admit though, at least to himself, that he was annoyed that the Florum would clearly ignore Leonard's flower crown that basically flashed a blaring 'taken; not interested' sign at them.

[thatcrazycrowgirl]

Alright, I finally caved in and watched the new AC Mirage trailer.

It looks gorgeous, as all the cinematic trailers do. No other opinion on it as of yet, though. For now, I’m going to sit back, wait, and watch.

We’ll see if Ubisoft actually delivers this time.

[thekingofchungus]

WHY IS THE TERRYS CHOCOLATE ORANGE OUT OF STOCK

[sttoru]

‘no matter how much time the king of curses spends with you, he doesn’t think he will ever understand you or your affectionate behaviour towards him.’

☀︎｜tags. true form sukuna x female reader. heian era sukuna. fluff. bits of mentions of blood & murder. big size difference. cold-big-monster-having-a-small-soft-spot-for-a-single-human trope. reader gets called ‘little one, brat’. not proof read! let me know if you like my characterisation or not; it’s my first sukuna fic.

a kiss on the cheek is one of the most innocent - yet apparently also the most difficult - things to do. it’s a small form of intimacy; not that hard to do. it’s really as simple as planting your lips on your beloved’s cheek. then all you do is retreat — maybe get a kiss on the cheek back from him. or on the lips.

“get moving. i’m not waiting all day for you.” sukuna grumbles. you had suddenly stopped in your tracks and the king of curses was confused as to what the reason might have been. the two of you had been walking through the courtyard for a few minutes now — well, you basically had to drag him out to take a little stroll together.

and now the same you was quiet. it bothered sukuna; you were always so chatty around him when it was just the two of you. he might have called you an ‘annoying brat’ for it, but he secretly enjoyed your company and voice.

“c-coming.” you reply in a quiet mumble, eyes glancing over at the monstrous frame that stood a few steps away. his dull yet sharp gaze was focused on you — like he was sizing you up. or rather: trying to figure out what’s wrong with the change in behaviour you showed.

sukuna watches you as you hurry over to his side again. he resumes walking, hands folded over each other under the material of his kimono.

though, he couldn’t yet let go of the fact that you were acting different around him. the king of curses’ suspicion only grew once he noticed how your fingers fiddled with your obi. you were anxious about something.

sukuna shakes his head slightly. some humans sure are difficult to understand, he thinks to himself. your happy yet reserved personality when you usually interacted with him had disappeared and made place for a nervous wreck. trying to figure out why made sukuna’s head hurt.

were you finally scared of him? like all other humans and curses were?

he doesn’t know why, but it felt like he would hate for such thing to happen. sukuna usually wouldn’t care if someone resents, fears or somehow even admires him. only you could make him think and care about such difficult and maybe even trivial things.

“uhm,” you break off his train of thoughts and his eyes are instantly on yours again, “may i do something really quickly?”

sukuna’s face doesn’t show any change in expression, but a small nod tells you everything you need to know. you clear your throat, “can you please lower your head towards me?”

lowering his head? oh, you got some guts. if anyone else had said that to him, sukuna would have obliterated them; there wouldn’t have been anything but red bloody dust left of their body.

but then again: it’s you. all exceptions the king of curses makes are for you.

sukuna slightly lowers his head to your level so you could do whatever you needed to. he’d be lying if he said that his curiosity wasn’t piqued. it always was when he was around you.

you gulp. it was time to do what you’ve longed to do ever since the beginning of your stroll: give the ryomen sukuna a kiss on the cheek. you don’t think he’d be mad—at least he never seriously gets mad at you. only to get a reaction out of you since your responses are always ‘intensely amusing’—as he says.

“go on.” sukuna’s breath hits your cheeks. he was so close—too close that it made you even more nervous in a way. as if you hadn’t even had your first kiss yet.

you swallow your fears and just go for it. your lips attach to his cheek in the fraction of a second—the speed of light—before they leave. it was right under his right set of eyes.

you take a step back and clear your throat. you try to escape the embarrassment of sukuna’s possible reaction by continuing your stroll, though were stopped by a strong hand firmly grabbing your forearm.

“where’d you think you’re going?”

sukuna’s deep voice echoes through your ears. you were surprised to hear the tone of it; almost soft. a tone sukuna uses on rare occasions: in your presence.

you turn your head around and smile sheepishly at the king of curses before you. he doesn’t return the same (not that you expected him to), however he does unexpectedly ruffle your hair for a split second. or at least he attempts to.

his large and warm palm lands on top of your head and he gives it a little and subtle shake. sukuna had seen you do a similar action to someone else before, thus he concluded that he could do it to you. maybe as a form of endearment or. . whatever you used it as.

he did find the way you tried to scurry away after giving him a kiss very adorable. even if he wouldn’t say so out loud.

“now, come along. we don’t have all day.” sukuna nonchalantly mutters after retracting his hand. it left as fast as it came, though you were still stunned at the slight show of affection the king of curses returned.

you instantly catch up to sukuna again—walking next to him as fast as your legs could take you. you were a bit more at ease after you got a positive reaction to your little kiss. it was a pity that he didn’t smirk or laugh at you—maybe mocked you like he usually would. but that head pat made up for it.

even if it did leave your hair a little disheveled.

you couldn’t properly see sukuna’s face, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips was undeniably there. even if it was for just a split second.

“how very interesting.” sukuna mutters under his breath so you wouldn’t catch on. he sighs and shakes his head, unable to keep out that memory of you looking so cute—standing on the tip of your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek with your comically small hand on his jaw line. he doesn’t know why he found that to be so thrilling.

you flutter your eyelashes. you were curious about what he might have commented on, “may i ask what you had just said? i didn’t quite hear it.”

a short second of silence hangs before sukuna tilts his head to the right to look down at you again; his face expressionless, but still having a hint of a grin on his lips.

“i said you better hurry before i gobble you up right this instant.” he replies, (playfully) intimidating you with his sharp red eyes that glinted with a form of danger.

you shiver (though knew the threat was an empty one) and instantly pick up your pace. you even get ahead of him, walking as fast as your legs could. you answer with a curt ‘my apologies’ and walk like you actually have somewhere to be.

sukuna’s grin only grows as he sees you get ahead of him. if you had turned around, maybe you could have caught onto that light flicker of affection in his expression.

“i’m coming for you, little one.” sukuna adds just to ignite some more fear into you and you react as expected, “you’re not escaping me today.”

it was a funny sight; your reactions always make him enjoy his time with you even more than he already (secretly) was.

the way his body reacts in mysterious ways when you’re around, is still very much an unsolved riddle to the king of curses. and the reasons as to why you aren’t scared of him and can easily give him all your ‘love’ are also still yet to be discovered.

until then, sukuna will continue to enjoy teasing you.

[sunderwight]

AU where there's no system (or a decidedly less restrictive one) and Shen Yuan transmigrates into an OC rogue cultivator before the start of the novel, and decides he's gonna steal the protagonist before Luo Binghe even gets to Cang Qiong.

The logic is sound -- he'll keep Luo Binghe from experiencing neglect and abuse at Shen Qingqiu's hands, raise him away from the pressure of the sects and the likelihood that anyone else might find out about his heritage and try to harm him over it, keep him fully away from the Immortal Alliance Conference, and then Luo Binghe's course will change trajectory because he'll have no reason to want revenge against the world and no access to Xin Mo. Shen Yuan will be able to spare Luo Binghe some suffering and possibly survive in a world less subject to the harrowing whims of a half-mad tyrannical overlord. Win-win!

However, the tricky bit is that he's not sure exactly how far ahead of the novel he is, and also Airplane didn't specify where Luo Binghe grew up. This means that Luo Binghe could be any age younger than twelve and in any number of places along or near to the Luo river.

Shen Yuan decides he's going to approach this by pretending he is looking for the long-lost son of his sister, traveling through the likeliest areas, asking after abandoned children who might fit the protagonist's description. It's a long shot, he knows, and he's mostly relying on the existence of Narrative Destiny. But eventually he is directed by several people towards a particular city, which is not as close to the river as he'd have expected Luo Binghe to grow up, but then again he only knows that was where baby Binghe was found, not where the washerwoman who took him in ultimately lived.

It becomes clear to him, though, that he's been sent to the wrong target. But also why he's been sent astray is apparent in nearly the same breath, because among the slave children living in this area is a little boy who could be his much younger clone.

Seriously, this kid looks just like him! Or, well, close enough. He looks a lot like Shen Yuan's actual nieces and nephews from his past life. It's uncanny.

Also, because of his search, the slave kids get wind of what he's looking for (his long-lost nephew) pretty quick. The boy with the obvious resemblance to him greets Shen Yuan's own assessment with wary cynicism, but he's just a little boy. So it's not difficult to notice the way he's also practically vibrating with hopefulness, half-hiding behind a protective older kid and looking at Shen Yuan with big dark eyes like he expects to be rescued or destroyed with whatever he has to say next.

Shen Yuan has a big problem now. He just knows that if he says something like "actually no this boy is too old to be my nephew" or whatever other excuse, no one will believe him, and also this poor kid is going to be permanently scarred by it. He's going to think Shen Yuan is lying just so that he can reject him. On top of that, he's not in a good situation here. None of these children are even remotely well cared-for.

Shen Yuan's rogue cultivator self isn't rich on the level of being like a wealthy sect leader or anything, but he's made some money since transmigrating by doing random cultivator jobs and quests along the way here. He uses it all to purchase two little slave boys (Do Not Separate), then takes another job and uses that coin to acquire a somewhat rundown manor which used to belong to the local gentry. The Qiu family (rings some bells but that's not exactly an uncommon name) kept it up for a while in case a branch family sprung up in need of a residence, but they've been in decline and the place is downright decrepit, so they had been looking to sell it instead. It's too big for a wandering bachelor like SY to ever need on his own account, but that's sort of the idea. He makes more money taking on cultivator work, at first taking his boys along with him for lack of any alternative. Nerve-wrackingly dangerous! Eventually he hires workers to start restoring the manor, particularly setting up a yard to be a school area, and then starts taking on any freelance jobs he can get in order to steadily buy out the contracts on all the other kids. He gets it nice enough to house and care for as many orphans as he can acquire.

Not because he's a big old softie though!

His story of looking for his nephew is a bust now, since he's apparently "found" the kid. So he's got to change tactics! If he can't find baby Binghe and the washerwoman, the next best approach is to create an opportunity for them to come to him. So once he's got his new household established, he starts offering free lessons to all the local kids. Not just the ones he's taken in, but also any who come by and want to learn some things. It's a tempting setup for anyone who wants their child to get education but can't afford a tutor, and Luo Binghe's mother had been entirely the sort of person who would have packed up and left her situation if there had been an opportunity for it.

On that note, SY also starts hiring single mothers to help look after his new gaggle of children and do the work he doesn't know how to do in these times, like keeping house, laundry, cooking, actually raising kids, etc.

His "little school" is not universally popular. A few groups try and ruin him, because the poverty in the region provides a basis of business for them. The ringleaders of the human traffickers in the area don't want their trade to dry up, even if it means selling all of their merchandise for this round, so when they find out that their underlings let Shen Yuan buy off all the kids they try and intimidate him into returning them (it doesn't go well for them). The Qiu family also isn't thrilled after it becomes clear what he's doing, and get him investigated by the local authorities (read: use their bribed officials and local goons to try and interfere.)

When that doesn't work either the sects get involved, because the Qiu go crying to Huan Hua Palace that Shen Yuan is sketchy and is trying to establish his own sect. So Shen Yuan talks his way around the matter, and frankly the Qiu are small fish even if they're the biggest ones in the local pond, so HHP doesn't care to pursue things much further. (Read: SY could mop the floor with the disciples they sent to investigate him, and it's not worth it to piss off someone this mysterious and powerful just to bully some impoverished children.)

Shen Yuan is appalled by all this bullshit though. Trust the world of PIDW to make it so hard just for a guy to teach some poor kids how to read and do math!

It makes him dig in his heels about it, because he is at heart a stubborn bastard. The fires that once fueled a thousand angry screeds on zhongdian literature site is now aimed at the local magistrate. One of the women he's hired on has some dirt on the Qiu family, which leads SY to dig up some more until he eventually has enough to turn the tables on them. Local officials won't investigate because they've all been bought, but that in and of itself is of some interest to their superiors closer to the palace, and so SY arranges an investigation of his own that goes way further than he thought? Turns out there are some ugly skeletons in the Qiu closets, and the imperial investigator comes down on them hard.

Well, he can't say they didn't have it coming? Though he does feel bad for the children in the family, especially the oldest son, who gets hauled off to jail along with his father. At least the girl is sent to live with relatives. Maybe he should have done more to shield the minors in the situation...?

His kids tell him not to worry about it, though, that apparently young master Qiu was known to run people down in the streets and beat his servants and do other cartoonishly awful things. SY's not sure how much of it is true and how much of it is his little flock of fluffy sheep trying to ease his conscience, though they do all seem to take a lot of vindictive delight in the whole affair. Especially Nephew, who clings to his sleeves and loudly declares that the investigator should have publicly flogged the discredited nobles so that everyone could go watch, and then begs him for sweets as if that wasn't a creepy thing to hear come out of an eight-year-old's mouth. SY just sighs and tells him he can have something good when he finishes his calligraphy practice.

Of course, it's not exactly easy running what is basically an orphanage-slash-school (and maybe a budding sect...?), especially when pretty much all of the kids have been traumatized and faced stuff like rampant dehumanization, food insecurity, abuse, and neglect. Hiring single mothers soon becomes not only a plan to try and lure in Luo Binghe's mom, but an absolute godsend of an idea because SY has no clue WHAT he would do on his own about the discipline issues or emotional breakdowns or acting out that some of the kids get up to once it registers that they're in a safe enough place to unpack their baggage.

Apart from Nephew, SY's favorite kid is the one who came with him, the oldest of the flock of former slave children. He's the big brother of the group, the one who tries his best to look after the others and to not make any trouble himself. But even poor Little Yue is still just a kid who has been through too much, and he also eventually starts having some meltdowns and struggles with processing everything that has happened to him as a vulnerable child in an unkind world.

SY really didn't mean to start a trauma center for mistreated children!

Though, that's still not necessarily a bad thing for Luo Binghe to one day come across, provided he ever actually shows up...

Eventually, Shen Yuan does figure out that he must be ahead even of Luo Binghe's birth, though he still doesn't put together that he's interfered in the scum villain's backstory. Probably something even more amusingly obscure, like the creation year of some random artifact Luo Binghe used in some wife plot or other, tips him off and he mentally throws his hands up in the air. He's got to wait DECADES? Maybe he ought to try and find Luo Binghe's biological parents and just follow them around at this point!

Not that he can, now, though, because he has to make sure no negative IQ villains (who will probably just be cannon fodder for a subplot one day) decide to send goons to literally burn down his orphanage. Also if he's gone for too long his kids get upset. Probably because no one else is as weak to their puppy dog eyes and pleas for treats and toys as he is.

At least it gives him time to shore up his position, and train Nephew and Little Yue more extensively in cultivation. Despite his initial assurances to HHP that he was but a humble orphan wrangler who was only incidentally a cultivator, Shen Yuan does also teach the other kids some basic cultivation exercises. There are a few reasons for that.

One is just the principle of the thing. No, these kids don't all have the potential to become great immortals or anything, but they can still learn some of it and it's good for their health if they do. The only trouble is if they try and push too hard or attempt things beyond their range, and that's a risk with everyone who cultivates. Or even just exercises!

Another reason is that it helps stave off the jealousy that some of the kids have towards those with more cultivation potential. Teaching a lot of the basics all around makes it into just another topic at school. Some kids might not be as good at it as others, but those kids might also be better at math, or memorization, or board games, and while cultivation can open more doors to people as adults, for the children this is generally enough to satisfy their sense of fairness. Or at least reduce outbursts and fights.

Finally, the impression that any of SY's kids might be a cultivator also makes wicked people more reluctant to try and abduct or interfere with them. Cultivators are revered and nearly mythological figures in the public consciousness. It isn't difficult to see why, if even a rogue cultivator NPC like SY* can mop the floor with most random muggers (*Shen Yuan is not a normal rogue cultivator). Not many people want to risk bringing SY's ire down on them, but of those who might chance it if he wasn't around to immediately react, even fewer want to risk that the kids themselves could kick their asses.

Not knowing that only two of the orphans probably could in fact mop the floor with them helps keep all the rest safer, and is more believable when all of them can conduct themselves enough like disciples to fool anyone who doesn't know what to really look for.

Developments that surprise Shen Yuan but wouldn't surprise anyone else who is paying attention:

People start leaving unwanted babies and younger children on his doorstep. Not all the time, but more than once has he had to frantically find wet nurses and worry that he's changed things enough that some fishermen might just randomly drop the protagonist outside his gate, and he wouldn't even know because Binghe would be a literal infant??

Nephew (SJ) and Little Yue (Yue Qi -- only Shen Yuan calls him "Little", especially when he gets taller than SY by the time he's sixteen) are prodigies who get really good at cultivation, really fast, and between that and Shen Yuan's OP skills they completely warp Shen Yuan's ideas for what normal cultivation potential looks like. This would probably cause more problems if he wasn't teaching all the kids how to cultivate anyway, but means his students actually do kinda run the usual range of skills for a small sect.

SJ and YQ swiftly reach the point where they need more advanced equipment than just SY's teaching can provide, if they're going to keep building their skills. Gaining access to certain tools, aids, and materials (like spiritual swords) is a real hurdle though, and usually is for rogue cultivators (one of the major disadvantages of no sect affiliation.) Shen Yuan is hesitant to use stuff from the plot, since it's For Binghe, but he eventually caves and starts going after some things that he doesn't think the future protagonist will miss much. He also ends up buying stuff from HHP, since they're willing to sell things like spiritual tools and weapons if the price is right, whereas most other sects like Cang Qiong reserve them for members only.

They get an invitation to the Immortal Alliance Conference. Not the one where the Abyss opens up, obviously, the one where (originally) Shen Jiu reunited with Yue Qi and killed Wu Yanzi. Shen Yuan debates on going but the boys really want to, and things have calmed down enough that no one's trying to burn down the school whenever he leaves these days, so eventually he figures it'll be interesting to see some of the Cang Qiong characters and should be safe enough if he keeps his disciples close.

They don't run into young Yue Qingyuan or Shen Qingqiu on the trip, but Wu Yanzi does show up and get killed, and SY only hears about it and assumes they just missed all that action. (WYZ just got caught by some senior cultivators who recognized him and killed him to avenge some disciples he murdered.) Nephew and Little Yue do meet young Liu Qingge, Shang Qinghua, Mu Qingfang, and Su Xiyan though! Which gives Shen Yuan the opportunity to tell them all (mostly Su Xiyan) that if they're ever in trouble near his school, they can come to him for help. Hint hint.

This open invitation ends up being accepted broadly by a lot of traveling cultivators after the conference, who from then on treat Shen Yuan's school like a free motel whenever they're passing through. Plenty aren't even people SY met, but it seems his statement was taken as a general one to fellow righteous cultivators all around! Luckily, this has some advantages. Shen Yuan has no qualms running off anyone who tries to take unfair advantage of him or especially his kids or staff, and no shame in conscripting anyone who is decent enough to help teach his students, even if it's nothing to do with cultivating, and somehow word gets around and people start bringing school supplies, medicine, food, or other useful things along with them as gifts to help repay the hospitality. Young Liu Qingge comes by a lot on his way to and from various quests, or even seems to just turn up randomly sometimes (he comes to challenge YQ and SJ to fights), and SY's just like "I guess this is happening now" and teaches him to recognize the early signs of qi deviation and advises strongly against meditating in caves.

At one point a young Shang Qinghua turns up in one of the spare rooms, very obviously hiding an ice demon. Shen Yuan again is just like "I guess this is happening now" and shelters them until Mobei Jun has recovered, and sends a message to Cang Qiong that one of their An Ding caravans was attacked and their disciple is recovering under his roof but isn't well enough to travel yet. Much less stressful situation for Airplane (who is desperately trying to figure out what he did to manifest SJ's benevolent uncle from somewhere???)

Su Xiyan seems like the only person they met at the Immortal Alliance Conference who doesn't turn up at their door in a state of emergency at some point.

A few years later, there is a big scandal involving her and the demon emperor. Su Xiyan disappears, Huan Hua Palace accuses Tianlang Jun of plotting against the righteous sects, and Shen Yuan is even invited to the meeting where they try and rally everyone to go kill Binghe's dad. Naturally, he declines to participate in the witch hunt, but the major sects agree to it. By luck (or narrative fortune) Shen Yuan comes across Zhuzhi Lang on his trip back home, and mentions the ambush and his distaste for it (not knowing who ZZL is). ZZL warns Tianlang Jun and the confrontation goes very differently, especially since there's no Yue Qingyuan wielding Xuan Su.

It doesn't go well for the sects involved. Huan Hua Palace gets decimated. The Old Palace Master gets killed. Shen Yuan is like uhhhh that's... whoops? Didn't Luo Binghe need that in the future?? Fuck.

But the sect isn't wiped out completely, they just take a massive beating. Some of their younger disciples end up leaving and turning up on Shen Yuan's doorstep, for some reason. The manor house is becoming too small to account for all of these foundlings! They have to expand. Though the expansions would be a stretch to term a "palace" they end up occupying a much larger chunk of territory, and even investing in farmland and some storehouses to help support the sect. That's still not really a sect, of course. Even if a lot of the business that would have normally gone to Huan Hua Palace starts coming to them instead. Once HHP is back on its feet the stream will probably dry out. Probably?

Zhuzhi Lang starts hanging around. He's actually looking for Su Xiyan or their baby, dead or alive and per Tianlang Jun's instructions, but he uses Shen Yuan's school as base camp for his kind of hopeless efforts to find any traces of them, while also looking for ways to try and repay Shen Yuan. All the kids are just like "oh great, another weird man has fallen in love with Shizun -- someone go run interference" about it.

Some years later, an older woman and her young son turn up. Shen Yuan's off on a quest at the time, so SJ receives them. As is standard procedure he gives the woman a job and places the boy in classes, after giving him the aptitude tests. The kid is cute and precocious, so SJ uses him to distract YQ while he himself sneaks out to go join LQG on a monster hunt (and claim the valuable parts of the beast's remains for himself), and neither SY nor ZZL notice anything until SY's going over the paperwork for stuff he missed while he was gone. Since he procrastinated, it takes him like a week to find out that Luo Binghe is finally under his roof. He's going over the admission form right when SJ arrives with The New Adorable Child to try and distract SY enough that SY will let him go on a solo hunt -- as far as being distracted goes, it is way more effective than even SJ anticipated.

Then he has to figure out how to let ZZL know, so that ZZL can let Tianlang Jun know, so that Luo Binghe will have more family than just his mom and more resources than just a shabby little not-sect! But even once he figures it out and sets up the dramatic reveal, TLJ is just like "great! so can he just stay with you? he's probably fine there" which... irritates SY.

SJ fully conscripts Luo Binghe as a minion in his many cons. He never lost his street kid conman tactics, although he now uses them less as a ruthless survival tool or weapon and more to just get things to go his own way. LBH has the face and disposition of a little angel, which SJ no longer can pull off as a full grown adult, so he fills a gap. LBH also knows full well what's going, especially since a lot of SJ's tactics involve throwing LBH at SY like a smoke bomb.

Luo Binghe inevitably still develops a big fat crush on SY, so this is fine by him. Especially when he gets older, he starts bringing SY tea and making him breakfast and running his errands until even SJ is like "wait a minute, this little brat's stealing my job!" and by then it's too late. Luo Binghe is SY's personal assistant, the disciple at conman puppydog eyes has surpassed the master! While SJ was busy being like "I'm going to trick this idiot into doing my chores" LBH was going "I'm going to trick this idiot into giving me his job".

SY takes too long to officially name his school so everyone calls it the Shen Sect, much to his embarrassment.

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny used to be a vigilante, firmly on the side of good. Like, illegally, but morally good.

Danny’s 100% sure that whatever he is now, it’s not good.

Is Gotham’s influence just Like That?

He was homeless when he got to this thrice damned city (literally, because Lady Gotham was so cursed) and now he’s… here? In a mid-level penthouse with a rotation of homeless kids going in and out of his kitchen and eating out his pantry??

Danny adjusted the cuffs of his dress shirt, making the conscious decision to ditch the tie. He’s a tall 6ft 4 now, taking after his Dad. His head smarted all of the time, hitting doorframes when he was being a bit clumsier than the normal ghost-like grace he had learned to channel as The Phantom.

The Phantom instead of just Phantom. Why? Because Phantom was the name of a teenage vigilante in another dimension. The Phantom, on the other hand, is an intimidatingly tall, deceptively kind, extremely dangerous kingpin.

Honestly? Danny didn’t even want this life. Like, he had no idea it would snowball like this??

He supposed that it all started when the Penguin was trying to snatch kids off of his block on Crime Alley. Not officially his block, of course, because Danny didn’t actually enter this city to be a crime-shadow thing. But he hadn’t lost enough of Phantom the Vigilante to ignore kids getting hurt. He still hasn’t, if he’s being honest. He flew into a frantic search, tracking down the missing kids to Penguin’s bar. The Iceberg Lounge. Apparently, he wanted the kids to do some menial tasks and what not. Danny, rage flickering through his core, intangibly went in and robbed Penguin of every coin and secret the man kept.

Then? Danny blackmailed the Penguin to guarantee his kids a measure of safety from the Rogue. That began the slippery slope into whatever it is he does now. Penguin was being kept in line by Danny’s threats, the grip he had on the Rogue’s weak points, and a wonderful bit of intimidation.

——

“What, you stinking phantom? I’m stickin’ to yer rules!” Penguin snarled, forced to his knees by invisible blob ghosts.

Danny, salty and pissy from the lack of sleep he’d experienced trying to keep Penguin’s men in line as a result of Penguin trying to test where Danny’s lines were, dropped the temperature to the point where Penguin started shivering. Considering the place was already cold- the Iceberg lounge lived up to its name- it meant that Danny was standing nonchalantly in a room that was negative twenty five degree Celsius in a sweatshirt, Danny was already making good on his natural intimidation factor.

“It’s The Phantom to you, Oswald.” Danny said, in the tone of someone saying “it’s the shit, to you.”

Danny narrowed his blue eyes, letting a tiny tint of ectoplasm make his eyes glow a bit in the suddenly icing over room.

“Your people have been getting on my nerves, Oswald. Roughing up kids is so… uncultured. Are you sure you’re a Cobblepot?”

Penguin snarled, the effect of which was rendered ineffective due to his increasingly violent shivers. Plus, Danny loomed over him without even trying.

Danny, annoyed and asking himself “What Would Dan Do To Intimidate This Guy?”, gripped Penguin’s shoulder and hauled him up one handed. He dragged the mob boss over to one of the booths, avoiding the bodies he’d dropped (non-lethally) when Danny first walked in to ruin Penguin’s night. He shoved Penguin in chair he iced over, because Danny’s petty and if he saw one more bruise on his kids at Penguin’s hands, Danny was gonna go full Dan the Murderer.

He at least allowed to room to warm up before laying into Penguin, though. He stayed standing. Hey, he had the height advantage to use. He could have kept Penguin kneeling, but it was probably god the best that the mob boss got some sense of pride back.

(Danny had no idea that sitting as someone loomed over you to lecture and threaten you was even worse than kneeling. At least with kneeling, you knew where you stood. But sitting? It leaves you horribly off kilter.)

“I told you to keep your people in line. Kids are off limits, Oswald.”

“I kept them in line!”

Never let it be said that Oswald Cobblepot had a normal functioning sense of self preservation.

“Really?” Danny jabbed his pointer finger lightly on top of Penguin’s trachea and allowed his fingernails to sharpen into Phantom’s sharper digits. Penguin tried to lean away. “Then why did they start a gun fight when there were kids visible on the street? Why did I see one of my kids get hit by one of your poor excuses of a bouncer?”

“I-”

“Don’t care much for your excuses, if I’m being honest. I let you mess around with the little projects you have, without even breathing a whisper of your secrets. Sionis would love to know how you double crossed him the last deal, yeah?”

“I- I’ll keep them in line!” Penguin stuttered.

“Well, I believe in second chances,” Danny bullshitted. Ancients, how was this even working? “So I suggest you make an example of the guy that smacked Hailey around before I make an example out of you, Oswald.”

“Fine! Fine!”

——

And with that, he got access to Penguin’s resources and men and more importantly, the corrupt police officers. He made Penguin “boot out” the pedophilic ones (in a very violent way) and kept the rest.

Then? Mr. Freeze froze over the god damn pipes and Danny had to intimidate and make a deal with the Rogue so he and his increasing roster of orphans had access to warm water.

In exchange for Danny’s restorative and, more importantly, unmelting ice, Mr. Freeze was now Danny’s… on-call enforcer?? When he’s not researching cures for his frozen in a pod wife, that is.

Danny was satisfied with that. He was! But then Black Mask happened, with the man trying to engage in a battle of wits with Danny over the control of Crime Alley which, at that point, was firmly Danny’s territory.

The thing is, Danny doesn’t play nice anymore. Why bother with pointless mind games when he could just…

——

“So, you’re The Phantom.”

“And you’re Sionis.”

Black Mask twitched at the name, gloved hands pulling out his guns. Danny sat on the counter, head touching mid cabinet, and sipped out of Sionis’ favorite mug.

Because Danny broke into Black Mask’s safe house and stole his quality coffee. The man’s eyes were wary.

“How did you get in here?”

Danny shrugged. “Walked.”

Danny held the coffee out of the way as Sionis unloaded a clip into his chest and lunged forward to slap a mask onto Danny’s face. After waiting a bit, as Black Mask’s smug triumph bled into shock, Danny laughed and, using a bit of his natural strength, tossed the guy off of him. He casually took the mask off of his face.

“Jeez, I’m trying to be nice, here.”

“So, you’re a Meta.”

Danny grinned. “Eh. And you’re a cult leader with a mask fetish.”

Danny tuned out the rant about the “true face of Gotham” or whatever, already bored, and sipped at Sionis’ coffee. The ass might be a psycho, but his coffee tastes were wonderful. Danny stood up, rinsed his mug, and turned back to Black Mask.

“You’re trafficking people. Kids.” He said, cutting through Sionis’ chatter. He was sly about it too, committing violence and torture in a way that would ensure obedience and fear. Danny probably would have never caught on, Black Mask’s schemes being so ingeniously created and executed, had he not kept a hawk’s eyes on the more vulnerable members of Crime Alley’s community. And the rest of Gotham’s vulnerable communities, of course.

“My, a wonderfully obvious conclusion. Now, Phantom, I have a proposition for you.”

Sionis seemed to have gotten his bearings back. Danny tilted his head at him, looking down.

“You can work for me,” Sionis said, before opening a laptop with video feed to one of his masked men or whatever holding a knife to one of Danny’s more fearless kids. Danny snarled.

“Or, refuse, and your kid will lose a finger for every instance of your defiance.”

“I told you not to touch the kids, Sionis. I don’t allow trafficking either.”

Black Mask chuckled. “Cut off a finger, Sadness.”

“Yes, bos- ARGHHHH!”

Danny watched as Mr. Freeze froze the goon’s arms before breaking them.

“I’ve got her, Phantom.”

Danny nodded at Freeze, keeping an eye on Sionis in case the fool bolts.

“So, what are your cards now, Sionis? You’ve sure pissed me off with nothing to show for it.”

And that was the last night anyone heard from the one that was supposed to be the King of Crime.

But Gotham knew the head mounted on a pike at one of Black Mask’s hastily abandoned bases was a warning, that The Phantom was watching.

——

Then he somehow got a gaggle of more orphans that were undead zombie “Talons?”

From there, he just obtained influence over the crime bosses of Gotham. Because his Talons kept bringing him heads and blackmail and his crime alley kids and Gotham orphans kept bringing him information for food and safety?

But like, Danny never wanted anything in exchange for the safety he provided. His core could give less of a shit whether he got anything in return. But he couldn’t convince his kids of that! They’re putting themselves in danger and ugh-!

Danny checked himself once more in the mirror. Ready, he stepped out into the night to wait for the Bats at his new favorite VIP spots.

On the way, he passed Ivy and Harley, who he waved to. Pamela worked under him because he controlled Gotham’s criminal underground (which also mean the official parts of the city considering the sheer amount of corruption) and influenced them into more plant friendly methods. His dominion over Undergrowth also helped immensely.

Harley? They’re friends. He beat up and crippled her abusive ex. She gave him therapy and stopped torturing people for fun.

Danny stepped into the back door of the Iceberg Lounge. No one stopped him. No one dared to.

He settled onto a velvet couch, nodding respectfully at the server that had immediately and nervously set down his mai tai. He glanced around for cameras and wire taps, before giving up and upping his ectoplasmic output to short any recording devices out.

He sipped his drink as he waited.

“Batman.”

“Phantom.”

“Oh, good. You didn’t bring Robin,” Danny said, watching Batman tense. “Kids shouldn’t be in places like these.”

Batman stayed silent.

“Come on, sit.” Danny gestured to the couch across from him.

“This isn’t a social call. I’ll stop whatever you’re scheming-” Batman growled.

“Oh my god, you’re so dramatic. Is this where Nightwing gets it from?”

Batman snarled.

“Sit, sit.” Danny rolled his eyes.

Batman stayed stubbornly looming. Danny sighed, allowing his voice to slip into velvet danger.

“I told you to sit, Bruce Wayne.”

“You-”

“I won’t repeat myself again, Bruce. You’re testing my patience.”

Bruce sat, wary and hyper vigilant. Danny sighed, settling back in his chair.

“You’ve heard of Red Hood, yes? Don’t answer that, it was hypothetical. I know you’ve heard of him.” Danny waved a hand impatiently. “I don’t really care why he’s setting up shop in my Alley, but he’s upsetting the other crime lords. They’re asking me to interfere.”

“I don’t work for you.”

“No,” Danny acknowledged with a nod. “But I could make you, if you push it. Politeness would serve you much better right now, Bruce, seeing as I am doing you a… favor. And since I’m not shouting to the world who you are under the cowl.”

Danny gave Batman a pointed, patented, mom glare.

“… Apologies.”

“Now, you might be wondering what that favor is.” Danny watched Batman’s cowled face carefully. “I thought you should know that the Red Hood is your “Jason Todd.’”

Batman was still. And then Batman leapt at him, snarling, “How dare you-!”

Danny caught the vigilante by the throat and squeezed.

Batman’s flurry of punches- which, mildly ow, those gauntlets kind of hurt- quickly changed to clawing and maneuvers to get out of the choke hold. Danny held steady, cutting off the vigilante’s air supply until he began to go limp. He’s not Superman. Danny will bruise and kill, if he had to.

“Are you going to listen to me now?” Danny asked mildly, emulating both Black Mask’s drawl and Dan’s effortless psychosis.

Batman gave a weak nod. Danny plopped him unceremoniously back onto his couch. He sipped on his drink once more as he waited for Batman to cough some sweet air back into his lungs.

“I’m telling you to get your little birds in line before I have to go hunting, yeah? Keep your kids out of danger, Bruce, and I won’t have to step in.”

“He- how do you know..?” The growl isn’t there anymore, and Danny felt a smug sense of vindication of having smothered it out of the guy. Woah, no, that thought was too Dan and too little Danny. Danny handed him a cup of water, which Batman didn’t drink.

Danny rolled his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Drink. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it by now. And as for how I know…”

Danny held up a beat up copy of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility, filled with Jason’s writing. He tossed it to Batman, who caught it with blank eyes.

“Water,” Danny reminded him firmly, feeling like a mother hen. Batman gulped down his water, eyes flicking between the pages of Jason’s annotated book. Ancients, Danny couldn’t believe he annotated his book. A crime lord, like that? Well, it’s not like Danny could say anything.

Batman looked up at him, a silent demand- no, plea, because he’s not in a position to make demands- for an answer.

“Broke into his safe house. You should contact your fling, Talia. Seems like she dunked him into these “Lazarus pits” and told him you replaced him with the current Robin.”

Danny could see Batman’s emotional gears hard at work and honestly, he doesn’t have time for that.

“Now, we’re done here. You owe me one for the information. I’ll collect later.” Danny grabbed the Dark Knight, who stayed oddly unresisting (shock, maybe?) , and hauled him up.

“Tell Tim Drake to eat more. He looks too skinny.” With that, Danny dragged the Dark Knight to the window and punted him out. His kids were waiting on hot chocolate night and Danny had to go shopping for quality ingredients.

——

“YOU COULDN’T HAVE TOLD ME THE BIGGEST CRIME LORD OF YOUR CITY WAS THE FUCKING HIGH KING OF THE INFINITE REALMS?!”

“Hn.”

“BLOODY HELL, DON’T YOU GRUNT AT ME, YOU BROODY BASTARD!”

Constantine let out a scream. Shite, the king who held his soul contract was a crime lord. Great.

——

The reason intelligence and convoluted schemes and genius doesn’t work against Danny is because he’s got weird standards of what he’ll tolerate and the fact is that his normal dumbassery and mother hen tendencies cancels out and coherent thoughts or plans he might have had.

[cosmosis]

MOVED TO @seratopia

miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - jealousy

miguel gets jealous possessive after a new intern flirts with you this is part of the same universe as my call oneshot!

Being 2nd in charge of the multiverse is... honestly not that hard for you. It’s mostly just co-leading, and being a secretary. Lyla helps out a bunch, but sometimes, a sassy AI can only do so much. 

Jess informed you of a new intern she recruited. Apparently, he’s having his first day today, which means you’ll probably have to do a quick run-through of things with him later. 

For now, it’s your fated duty to sit with Miguel at his desk so he doesn’t get all pouty later. He starts huffing and puffing when you aren’t near, takes it out on the kids sometimes. 

Thanks to your suggestion, Miguel invested in a nice desk and swivel chair for the office, so now it looks more like an actual workspace instead of a maniac’s plot room. (either way, he his one lmao)

Since Lyla’s gone for the time being, you’re standing up on the office platform, tapping away at a multitude of screens. Miguel lays lazily in the office chair, swiveled up behind you to rub his face into your upper back, as well as run his hands along your tummy. 

“Hun, you gotta let go. I needa tour the intern.” You mutter, closing in on an ID photo of the recruit.

“No.“

“Well, if I don’t do it, then who will?“ You ask. 

“Jess.“

“She’s busy on her break. Pregnant women need breaks, you know.“

“Ugh. I don’t want you to leave.“ He whines. squeezing you tighter. 

You start squirming out of his grip, pulling his pinky off of your stomach. Inching away, you push Miguel away by his head. Reluctantly, he starts letting you go, lazily running his hands onto the skin of your hips and lower thighs before letting go. 

“I’ll see you in a bit, baby.��� You say, scuffing up his hair with your palm. Gracefully, you leap down from the platform, somersaulting onto the floor and skating out the exit. You hop over a few stray cardboard boxes. 

Miguel watches you stroll away, and fixes his hair back into place. 

Lyla magically appears, phasing in and out with a different sly look each time. She snickers, flickering all around Miguel’s head. 

“Whipped.“

“Shut the fuck up.“

. . .

Miguel’s blood starts to boil as soon as you roll in with that stupid, bastard of an intern. He’s too close to you for comfort, so close to his arm nudging yours... Miguel’s teeth start to clench, his fangs close to drawing blood from his mouth. He’s paying too much attention to you, there’s a vibe he gets that he hates to his core. 

Everything about him is aggravating; the blonde hair, the snarky smirk, all of it.  

“...and this is Miguel’s office!“ You say, gesturing your hand to the majority of the area. 

“Sweet, nice to meet the bossman.“

Bossman, his ass. Miguel would only ever let you call him bossman. 

“Miguel! Come down!“ You yell, and his heart warms in his chest. He turns around from his standing form on the office platform, eyeing the intern in order to scare him a bit. 

“Hey, what’s up man! Glad to finally meet the man behind the slaughter!“ The intern exclaims, his hands rested on his hips. 

Miguel fights every urge to both roll his eyes and tackle the recruit, keeping a somewhat straight face on. He chuckles a little, not a single trace of a smile on his face. 

“Heh, yeah? Excited to meet the bossman?“ Miguel taunts, but it looks like the intern can’t tell he is. 

“Heck yeah dude! Where do I start?“

Miguel starts nodding a little, plastering on a face smile, chuckling a bit...

Before he throws the entire office chair at the recruit. Not to hit you, though. He’d never, ever hit you. 

Instantly, the intern turns away, shielding his body with his hands. In the nick of time, though, you latch your webbing onto the chair, slinging it away to side before it could harm anyone. You cross your arms. 

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry about tha- MIGUEL!“ You scream. 

And he throws a literal file cabinet at the man. Again, you latch it out of way without problem. 

“What th'heck, man?! What’s your fuckin’ problem?!“ The intern yells, spreading his arms out. 

“My fuckin’ problem is you nagging my wife!“ He roars. 

“Wait a sec- she’s your wife?“

Miguel then  leaps down from the platform, chin held up high in a sinister glare. Slowly, he steps over towards the both of you, fixing his eyes on the intern the entire time. 

Miguel’s tall, really tall compared to the newbie. He pokes his finger to the recruit, leaning in real close. 

“Stay at least 5 feet away from my wife at all times.“ Miguel utters, and you kinda feel bad for the new guy. 

You cross your arms. “C’mon, Miguel. He’s literally new, take it easy on him!” You say back, and Miguel pouts, whines. Possessively, he reaches over to you, pulling in you in by the hip to try to soothe you. It doesn’t work, and you present yourself from giving into his needy touches.  

And then, you turn around back to the newbie. “Gosh, I’m so sorry about that! He’s usually not like this-”

“Man, fuck this.“ The intern exclaims, taking a few steps back in agitation. “Take me back home, I ain’t dealin’ with this shit!“

He storms off, kicking a stray cardboard box on the way out. 

“Aw, crap.“

“Finally.“

You swerve back around, hands on your hips. “Miguel, that was uncalled for.”

“Yes it was! He was smothering all over you!“ He yells, throwing his hands up in the air like it was the most obvious thing ever. 

“Well, now thanks to you, we lost a recruit.“

“One of literally thousands!“

“And now, there’s papers everywhere on the floor!“

“Shhh, honey, I’ll clean it up later.“

Ignoring your frown, Miguel finally pulls you into him, pressing your lower back into his own with a nose into your hair.

“I saw the way he put his arm around you. He was flirting with you too. Hated it.“ Miguel utters. 

“When?“ You ask.

“On the surveillance.“ He says, and you sigh. He’s right, the guy was flirting with you for a bit, but you chose to ignore it so you could get over with the tour faster. 

“Eh, he gave me the heebie jeebies from the beginning.“ You say, and Miguel automatically squeezes you tighter into him, a deep grumble bellowing from his inner throat.

“I’m never letting you tour anyone ever again.“ Miguel admits.

“After that? Go ahead.“ You scoff, and finally, he sighs in relief. 

He tries drags you back to the office platform again, but then forgets that he threw the chair, grumbling in regret. Instead, he just hovers behind you for the rest of the day, occasionally pressing a smooch to your head. 

[runa-falls]

FREE USE WITH MIGUEL? LIKE ANYWHERE ANYTIME?

a/n: YES NONNIE, ANY--FUCKING--TIME. AND HERES ONE OF THOSE TIMES :^) idk if this is free-use or feral!reader or both. anyway, just enjoy it lol. like every time, this got away from me

special thanks to mona (@whatthefishh) for letting me scream this shit to her over discord + for helping me figure out exactly what 'free use' is lol

cw: smut (18+), free use kink, small very small bit of somnophilia (CAN'T ESCAPE IT), non-explicit oral (m-receiving), afab!reader, mentions of ovulation (+ period) horniness, fingering, cockwarming, fucking w/ multiple orgasms, the same Spanish pet name used over and over, reader is basically a bothersome cat, writer is so all over the place it's confusing.

wc: 2.4k (this was supposed to be a quick thot but wtvr)

---

miguel is a gracious boyfriend, he practically lives to please you. so when you approach him in the middle of the day with nothing but his shirt draped over your figure, he has a hard time rejecting your advances.

sure, he tries, but every time he gives you what he wants.

you're spoiled, really.

miguel works at home as much as possible. he hates having to leave you before the sun rises, walking away from a perfectly cozy bed and wet cunt (😳).

miguel convinces himself that Spider HQ can survive a day or two without him on site. he has several capable Spiders that do most of the heavy lifting for him and LYLA isn't afraid to take charge, sitting her holographic ass in the boss' chair.

he can set up mission plans and keep track of everything from his laptop, and he's always on call if he is needed for anything. the only issue is that working remotely doesn't work when he can't get anything done.

he's trying to go over notes from a meeting that was held earlier this morning.

he was supposed to be there, but you physically wouldn't let him out of bed. he swears you're a Spider yourself with the strength you have when you're especially needy and sleepy.

he smelled it when he woke up in the middle of the night to you mouthing over his boxers, that decadent sweetness that indicates you're ovulating.

you were desperate to get a taste of him, to fill that unbearable emptiness inside of you, whimpering with relief when you finally feel his fingers bury themselves in your hair to push your further against his bulge.

he learned early in your relationship that your insatiable appetite for him increases tenfold during your window of fertility (don't even mention your period). and so does your need for sleep. so he caters to your needs accordingly.

you passed out after convincing him to fuck the heat out of you, to snuff out the fire until your neediness recedes. apparently, the only time you aren't horny is when you're sleeping (though that isn't true... you wake up horny all the time??).

you've been sleeping soundly ever since, utterly exhausted by his thorough support, but he knows that once you wake up, you'll be crying for him again.

he crawled back into bed with you after telling LYLA to take over for the day, but after a few hours of almost suffocating because of the way you curl up on his chest like a cat, he got up to get some coffee and finish some computer work.

as soon as his warmth left you, you fussed. eyes still closed as you whined and moaned for his body. he shushed you, gently smoothing down your bedhead until you settled.

it didn't last for long.

you padded out of bed with bleary eyes, clearly looking for him when you walked into the living room. he offered you a quick "morning, cariño." before focusing back on his computer. he had to limit as much contact with you as possible if he wanted to finish his work.

just a few more pages and a couple of emails, and then he can give you all the attention you need.

his shirt brushes against your thigh like a summer dress as you make your way through the room.

he looked adorable with his loose white long sleeve on and black dad-glasses. his hair is still curly and fluffed, telling you he wasn't planning on leaving you anytime soon.

you shuffle over to the couch, sitting next to him with a sigh.

he doesn't react.

somehow, the minimal recognition that you're there, his adamant refusal to look at you, turns you on as much as it irritates you.

he's really trying his best to be a good boss, hm? trying to resist a temptation that's barely a foot away from him.

it makes you feel dirty and deprived. you blatantly rub your legs together, urging him to look. your gaze washes over his sharp jawline watching as it clenches at your soft coos.

"...baby."

"'m working, amor." his voice is still soft, despite the efforts he's taking to ignore you.

you huff.

"but--"

"not right now."

you scoot closer to him, strategically allowing the hem of his shirt to ride up on your thighs. so he's really going to make you do it...

you tug at his sleeve, taking his arm away from his work (though it doesn't look like he was working on much at all, he's been sitting on that exact page for 5 minutes now).

"not right now, mi vida..." he protests lightly, but he doesn't move away. he's not even trying, you think.

you smirk at his empty words. you can see the way he's looking at you: your messy hair, bare legs, the shadow of his shirt hiding away your most sensitive spot. his breathing grows heavier and so does his stare.

"i have work--" miguel is always so soft and sweet to you, melting in your hand though he has all the power to stop it.

"please, miguel? just one, for me?" his lips part as you place his hand against your bare thigh, slowly dragging it upwards until it meets your center.

he doesn't take his hand away, doesn't even pull back a single inch, instead, he instantly complies, cupping his warm hand over its entirety. he chokes out a low groan. you're not wearing anything underneath.

"ok, i guess if it's only once..." he whispers, already breathy. he's leaning over you, almost on top of you, forcing your legs to spread impossibly wide.

he watches as his finger rubs against your slick center, spreading your wetness until you're glistening for him under the late morning light. he pushes in slowly, so slowly, eyes flicking up to your face to witness the small o your mouth makes as he presses in deeper.

his mouth waters as he fingers you, he wishes he had enough time to go down on you, and taste your slick straight from the source. he knows how much you love it when he fucks you with his tongue and suckles on your clit. but no, he has work to do. he needs to get you off so he can finally focus.

"this what you needed, cariño?" it's all but growled into your space, his voice low and taunting. all you can do is nod with bleary eyes as your hands grip onto his thick bicep for support.

he adds another finger and thrusts them into you quicker, angling them just so his palm can gently nudge at your clit. he can feel you tightening around him already, fluttering with each pass that he makes against your g spot. he presses harder, drinking in your choked gasp and shaking thighs.

you're so wet, spilling over his fingers and dripping against his hand. the noises between you are deafening. a mixture of sopping thrusts, heavy breathing, and quiet mewls fill the still silence of the living room.

he's so good at this, too good at this.

how can he make you fall apart with just his hands, caress every sensitive nerve with a single stroke?

you're at the cusp of euphoria. your body, filled to the brim with pleasure, urges you to let go, to take what you want. but you don't want to. you want to stay at the edge forever with his hands on you, to be at the center of his affections, always just one breath away from transcendence.

you're not ready for him to stop touching you anytime soon, you realize. you still need it and after you'll need it again. you need him.

his glasses start sliding as he looks down at you, dropping until they're barely at the tip of his nose. he's focused, eyes locked on how he fills you again and again.

his fingers speed up, expertly aiming against that special spot inside of you. your hips rise from the couch, needing him as deep as possible. then it all falls apart.

you cry out, back arching and eyes rolling. your body is barely touching the couch under you and it feels like you're being lifted up by unknown forces as you reach your climax. white fills your vision and heat thrums through your limbs. you can't hide your one orgasm from him, it's too intense.

before you could recover, he slips his fingers out of you.

"alright, honey, we're done." he casually sucks your essence off of his fingers before propping his glasses back to the arch of his nose.

"ok, ok, i get it. you're busy." you pant, still pulsing from your high. and...he's already back to work. he wasn't kidding when he said he had stuff to do. "i'll just...be sitting here."

so you watch him get back to work, or you try to. the incessant scrolling, typing, reading, and muttering thoughts that accompany his work is usually enough to put you to sleep. it's an unusual lullaby that's attached to him. one that brings you the comfort of knowing he's near.

but he's hard.

he seems so relaxed, so content to work, but his erection presses so desperately against his sweats, outlined perfectly by the grey fabric.

so how could you not touch him? he clearly needs your help... and if he doesn't, then you need it.

you want to be good, you do, but when he types so effortlessly like that with the fingers that were just stuffed in your cunt, or when he looks over his dad-glasses to look at something like a hot fucking nerd, you can't help it.

it's been, what, 12 minutes? that's enough work for the day in your opinion.

you start slow, hesitantly, watching to make sure he's not looking at you (though he can clearly see you from his peripheral vision). you stand up on the couch right next to him. you're a bit unstable on the squishy cushions so you use his shoulder for support.

he looks over at you, confused as to why you decided to walk all over the furniture like a toddler.

you carefully maneuver over his arms to settle yourself on his lap. you're a koala around him, holding your torso to his, looping your arms around his neck and sharing your shimmering lustful body heat. he grunts when you scoot even closer to him, your bare pussy pressing entirely against his covered cock.

but he ignores it.

he doesn't say anything, barely even moves, and just continues to work. you pout a bit, but let him. you convince yourself that you're content with just sitting here and enjoying his company (despite the large distraction that pulses against your pussy, pressing so sweetly under your needy clit).

you listen to his steady heartbeat and slow breaths, the occasional sound of tapping keys. you nuzzle against the soft shirt that stretches over his chest. you're fine.

it's not like you're leaking all over his sweatpants, leaving a puddle at the apex of the fabric. you're not crying on the inside, so empty and fluttering around nothing. you're fine.

until you arent.

you lazily lift your hips above his, nearly head-butting his chin in the process. his arms lift to help you get settled, hands resting on your waist, as patient as ever.

you reach below you and he stiffens. he wasn't expecting you to--

your hand buries itself under his sweats, delicate fingers brushing over his erection. he breathes out your name when you squeeze him teasingly before pulling him out.

"what did i say?" he grunts, hand swiftly wrapping around your wrist. the words are lost on your ears as you caress the silky steel in your fist. it pulses at your touch. he needs this.

he says your name once more.

"you're working."

"then why are you trying to fuck me?!"

"i'm only going to sit on it." you give him an innocent look. you slowly lower yourself so your dripping center meets his before sliding your glistening lips over his hardness. "won't move or say a thing, promise!"

"cariño..."

"just wanna warm you, baby." you position him right against your entrance. "is that so wrong?" you lower yourself before he can say anything else.

you take him easily with how wet you are, and he fills you perfectly. he sucks in a breath at the feeling then growls out, "don't move."

well, you do move (is anyone surprised). you move a lot. but he moves too. harsher and more competitive. who the hell fucks competitively?

you moan over him, bouncing on his cock eagerly. his hands hold your waist, guiding your movements just how he likes it: fast and hard. his laptop, somewhere on the other side of the couch, is forgotten and probably long dead by now. so much for working at home.

you've cum at least four times already, but who's keeping count (you're not. you're so fucked out, you have to manually breathe now.)

he won't let up anymore. you asked for it and you're getting it.

"do i gotta fuck you to sleep, hm? is that the only way you'll leave me the fuck alone and let me work?"

you only admit now that you're eyes were definitely bigger than your stomach. you're practically drooling as he takes control once again, snapping his hips from under you, harsh and punishing. as if this is a punishment.

he has to carry you back to bed that afternoon. he couldn't just leave you on the couch, naked and shivering. plus you'd be a distraction with your bruised hips and fucked out cunt.

you murmur adorably in your sleep as your body unconsciously nuzzles further into his arms. he places you lovingly on the bed and you immediately curl up. he sighs, brushing your hair out of your face because he knows how much you hate it when it gets in your eyes or tickles at your nose during the night.

you look so cozy and comfortable. but so alone in this huge bed.

he debates laying down with you, only until you're in a deeper sleep.

maybe just a few minutes?

LYLA had a few choice words when he woke up in the morning....

[hazyhae]

indica dreams | ldh

plug!hyuck x fem!reader ft. bestie jeno and cousin johnny

summary: when you finally decide to do something about your sleeping problem, your best friend suggests weed as a solution. he introduces you to donghyuck — a plug who makes it his personal mission to teach you everything there is to know about it. 

wc: 11.7k 18+ mdni

cw: fluff, mild angst, smut, weed/marijuana use in multiple forms, unprotected penetrative sex (wrap it up!), creampie, oral (receiving), flirty down bad soft dom!hyuck who's highkey a simp, dirty talk + voice/praise kink, reader has sleep problems and is a chronic overthinker, reader has a bad trip on weed, tender loving and reassurance, baby/sunshine/my girl as petnames

you turn over in your bed for what feels like the hundredth time, eyes shut tight as you groan in frustration. you open your eyes and feel around for your phone, blinding yourself once the screen faces you. 4:23 a.m. great.

when your alarm set for work blares just a few hours later, you feel as though you shut your eyes for only a few minutes, reluctantly getting up to start your day.

this has been happening for a while now — maybe 1 or 2 months? you’re not sure when exactly it started, but you know the stress from work has been affecting your sleep schedule terribly.

you’ve tried melatonin — huge headache the morning after. other methods you tried led to something similar or didn’t work at all, and it frustrates you to no end. after another day of fighting to stay awake at work passes by painfully slow, you sit on your bed brainstorming with your best friend over the phone.

“i think we’ve gotta do something about the stress, then maybe the sleep will come with it?” jeno’s voice rings through the speaker. you can tell he’s just waking up, evident in his low voice and delayed responses.

“like what? quit my job?” you ask sarcastically. “you know i can’t do that.”

“i know, not that.” you can almost hear him shrug. jeno never has any problems sleeping, being able to sleep through the night and even take a nap or two throughout the day with his work from home job.

a lightbulb seems to flash in his head as he lets out a small gasp. “wait,” his voice sounds closer to the phone speaker, and a few seconds later, your phone buzzes with a new message.

6:06pm jenjen: dongfuck 010-xxxx-xxxx

“dongfuck?? who the hell is that?” you ask, confused and almost slightly irritated.

“oh shit, i forgot it sends the contact name and everything,” jeno laughs. “anyways, i think the answer to your problems is some good old weed.”

you pause. it’s not as if that never crossed your mind, in fact it has even before your sleep problem came about.

you never entertained the interest as no one in your friend circle knew enough about weed for you to feel comfortable trying it for the first time and you haven’t had the energy to go out as much, giving you no chance to meet someone who does.

“i could be down? but what do you know about weed, lee jeno?” you ask your friend suspiciously.

“no, not me,” you hear him tap on the phone for emphasis. “that’s where my buddy dongfuck comes in.”

you don’t know why, but your gut feeling tells you that you might be in for more than just a good night’s sleep.

lee donghyuck

the new contact in your phone apparently belonged to the resident stoner of his friend group who hustles as a local plug, and while jeno had his thoughts about the guy, quoting pain in the ass and corny flirt, he couldn’t deny that he knows more about weed than anyone he’s ever met. and as much as jeno talks shit, you know how he’d be if he actually hated the guy.

you had texted the new number nervously, asking if he could give you the basics on getting high, and he had responded with “it’s too much to text” and an address. jeno trusted the guy, so you did your best to brush aside your nerves.

it’s your saturday off when you arrive at the address he sent, triple checking that you are at the right place. your gps leads you to a building that looks like a 2-story house. it’s so lowkey that you probably would have walked right past it if you weren’t looking for it, but upon closer inspection it has a very minimal but aesthetic exterior, with vines running alongside the house’s entrance.

“NCTeaHouse” a sign reads right above the door, and you peek inside the small window in the door to see the interior. your mouth forms an o as you realize the house is in fact a store.

the front door opens suddenly, almost hitting you in the face as you step back in surprise. a dark haired man with rounded glasses peeks his head out from behind the door.

“oops, my bad. __ right?” he asks, a little unsure.

“yeah, and you’re donghyuck?” you ask, taking in the man who looks to be around the same age as you.

“just hyuck is okay, come on in!” he says cheerfully, opening the door fully. “i was wondering when you were gonna come in, saw you wandering around the entrance for a good 5 minutes,” he chuckles.

your face gets hot at the knowledge that he saw you like that. “i was making sure it was the right place, okay?”

he hums and leads you in, and you take in the view of the shop around you. it’s tiny, but warmly decorated, browns and earth tones dominating the space with boxes lined along the shelves and few displays in the middle of the shop. he goes behind the front counter, bent down as he rummages through a box.

you take a look at products at the register, finding that they are different tea bags. glancing back at the displays, you recognize the other boxes to also be different tea brands, and some other products you don’t recognize.

“is this where you sell?” you ask, seeing that he’s still looking for something.

“oh no, not here, this is my side job. we sell tea, coffee, and some other stuff.” he gets up with a smaller box in hand, leaving the register as he beckons you to a back room. “but it’s my cousin’s shop, i just help here when i can.”

the back room is also warmly decorated, simple with 2 couch chairs, a table with a coffee maker, and a tiny fridge with a small burner on top.

“you can sit in one of those chairs, do you want some tea?” he asks. you decline politely and sit as he places a kettle on the small burner, turning it on before sitting on the other chair.

“aren’t you working right now? i don’t want to take up too much of your time,” you ask worriedly, not expecting the address he sent to be his workplace. he shakes his head.

“nah, trust me, we barely get any customers, and if they do they’ll ring the bell out front,” he says, waving his hand. “anyways, jen told me you wanted to learn about weed? what do you want to know?”

you feel your face get hot again. you know quite literally nothing about weed, and to admit that to a friend of a friend is a little embarrassing. but again, if jeno trusts him, so do you.

“to be completely honest.. i know nothing about it. i just know i have trouble sleeping at night and jeno suggested it might help,” you tell him.

“so just for sleep?” he asks.

“well, yes.. and no,” you start. you finally have the opportunity to learn the ropes from someone who actually knows what they were doing, but would he be down knowing you were starting from ground zero? he peers at you, noting that your expression looks a little conflicted.

“hey, no need to feel shy about it. everyone has to start somewhere,” he assures.

his words have more of an effect on you than you would expect, feeling touched at the reassurance of someone you barely know. it’s crazy how one sentence can have you feeling like you can trust him with whatever, but you nod in response.

“i think.. i’d like to learn at least the basics about weed, or even more if you’re willing? i’ve always been interested but never had the chance to explore it, but something tells me that’s what you’re all about,” you let your inner thoughts spill. he noticeably lights up at your words.

“and you’re absolutely right! trust me, as long as you’re willing to learn, i’m more than willing to teach,” he chimes, excited for someone who could potentially be as into weed as he is.

like you, none of his close friends really indulge in the substance, and it’s not like he can smoke on the regular with his customers, so he feels genuine excitement at the prospect of a weed buddy.

the sight of his lit up face at your curiosity really reassures your decision to trust jeno’s recommendation. as if on cue, his kettle starts whistling and he gets up to turn off the burner.

you watch as he pours the water into a mug he had set to the side. your eyes trail over his outfit: a comfortable looking brown hoodie paired with some ripped jeans that hug his long legs just right.

your eyes move back up to his face, only to see him staring back at you with an eyebrow raised.

“like what you see?” he asks with a teasing grin. you groan to hide your embarrassment, now seeing what jeno meant when he called him a corny flirt. but you really were checking him out, so you quickly try to come up with an excuse.

“i’m just thinking you don’t really look like you’d be a plug,” you redirect. he shakes his head.

“and what do you think a plug should look like?” he asks, face the tiniest bit more serious. the question surprises you.

“i guess, a little scarier?” you say quietly. you do imagine a plug being that way — quiet, intimidating, maybe a few tattoos. definitely not the man in front of you with his big brown eyes behind a pair of silver framed glasses, fluffy hair and even fluffier hoodie. he laughs at your answer.

“and that is where you are wrong,” he tuts at you, waving a finger. “stoners come in all shapes and sizes, and this plug of yours just happens to be incredibly charming and handsome.” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, and you can’t hold back your laughter.

aside from the last part, his words ring true, and you feel a little silly at your preconceived notion. one of the main things that has stuck out from him so far is his lack of judgement, and it’s something you admire. maybe this really is a good thing for you.

“anyways, when are we gonna start these lessons?” you ask, returning to your original goal.

“we can start now if you’ve got time,” he smiles, taking a sip of his tea. you check your phone, noting that not too long has passed since you arrived. you don’t have any plans besides trying to catch up on sleep, but you know that will probably be futile. why not?

“i’ve got time,” you let him know, and he meets you with a bright smile. he gets you some water, telling you to get comfy for his “weed 101” course.

“so let’s start with sativa vs. indica.” he types something in his phone, pulling up a slideshow. “all weed will fall into one of these two, or a combination of some sort.”

“you didn’t have to make an entire presentation??” you gasp. he must really be that eager to teach you.

“just let it happen, trust the process,” he insists. “anyways, you’ve got that sleeping problem, so anything indica would be your best friend,” he explains, showing you different examples on his phone.

“and what about sativa?” you ask, and he grins.

“that, my friend, is what you smoke when you want to have fun.”

you quickly realize that there is so much more to weed than you initially thought.

he jumps from topic to topic on different strains, smoking vs. edibles, joints vs. blunts, pipes vs. bongs — it was a lot. your head spins as you try to recall all the information he’s given you, and he takes notice at the shift in your demeanor, even if you try to feign the same eagerness you had coming into it.

“is it too much? we can take it slower, break it into sessions maybe,” he offers. you’re really wowed at how down he actually is to do this, and if you’re being completely honest, hanging out with an attractive guy while learning about and potentially indulging in some weed plus hopefully getting a good night’s sleep out of it? it sounds too good to be true.

“won’t that be taking too much of your time?” you ask worriedly.

“i’m true to my word, as long as you’re willing to learn, sunshine, i’m all yours,” he says, mouth pulled into his same grin as he downs the last bit of his tea, probably cold now after hours of talking. “plus the next few times you come, i’ll bring my stuff so you can try it out.”

you know you aren’t immune to his charms, and your face warms at the affectionate words. despite the corniness jeno complained about, hyuck had a way of keeping you on your toes while giving you an odd feeling of ease.

“i think i’d like that a lot, thank you hyuck,” you beam. an alarm on his phone rings, and his eyes widen.

“it’s already time to close? time flies,” he says getting up from the seat to start closing up shop. you get up too, ready to head home. “wait,” his voice halts you.

“are you hungry?” he asks a little timidly, a stark contrast for how casual he’s been this entire time.

you’ve been there for a while, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t starving at that point. “yeah definitely, my last meal was breakfast,” you recall.

“okay sit tight, then. dinner’s on me, let me close up really quick,” he smiles, and before you can protest, he’s rushing through the break room door. a smile rests on your own face. you pull out your phone to check the time, seeing messages from jeno.

4:29pm jenjen: u ok? he didn’t eat you did he

5:50pm jenjen: dude wait are u ok neither of you are responding to me 5:50pm jenjen: don’t replace me ):

7:15pm you: stop you big baby we were just having a good conversation 7:16pm you: ngl i’m glad you introduced us, i have a good feeling about this jen (:

even after you insist you pay for your own and treat him as thanks for his lessons, hyuck stubbornly refuses and pays for the entire dinner bill. as he pulls up to your apartment to drop you off at home, he places a box in your lap before you exit his car.

“tea?” you ask, eyeing the box. reaching over to your lap again he taps on the box, punctuating his words.

“this right here is something i mixed up a while ago. i’m not the biggest edible person, so when i don’t feel like smoking, i’ll drink some of this. there’s barely any weed in it, but steep it for like a minute and try some an hour or two before you sleep.”

he looks incredibly proud of his own creation, but you’re a bit conflicted. it’s difficult to meet his energy when you’re nervous at the thought of trying weed for the first time on your own.

you don’t voice your nerves, not wanting to dampen his excitement. he’s already given you a lot and you just met the guy.

“thank you hyuck, i appreciate it.” you open his car door, getting down with the box in hand. “see you next week?”

“no problem at all, try that and let me know how it goes okay? i’m kinda not the biggest texter, so call for anything,” he says softly. “i’ll see you next week, sunshine.”

with the nickname sending a buzz through you, you close his car door, padding up to the front of your apartment complex before turning to wave. he waves back, flashing his headlights, and he doesn’t leave until you’re completely inside.

you go into your kitchen, placing the box on your counter. you open it, pulling out a paper accompanied by little tied sachets containing an assortment of dried leaves.

steep for two minutes with boiling water, can steep longer if you want a stronger tea.

-h

you smile to yourself. lifting a sachet to your nose, you note that it smells like a regular bag of tea. he did say there was barely any weed in there, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try?

you double back on that thought. you really don’t know how you’re gonna react to it, and the anxieties crawl back up your throat. what if it doesn’t turn out well, and you’re all by yourself with no way of getting the substance out of you?

you don’t want to risk it. you put the contents back in the box and place it in one of your cabinets. maybe you’ll invite jeno over to try it with you so at least you’d have someone with you if it all goes wrong.

you get ready for bed, hoping that the night brings you even a little sleep.

your hopes are unfounded when you wake up to a call from your manager, begging you to come into work to help fix an urgent problem. she promises you double pay and breakfast, and reluctantly, you accept.

you head to work with only the idea of some extra money in your pocket keeping you going, but you know already the second you step foot into your work building that you will be fighting for your life for the next few hours.

by the time the sun has set, you’re dragging yourself through your apartment door, wanting nothing more than to sleep for the next 24 hours. you change out of your work clothes, hopping straight into bed and closing your eyes in hopes that sleep will take you.

when your eyes open an hour later, frustration bubbling at your throat from an hour of tossing and turning despite your utter exhaustion, you rip your sheets off, heading to your kitchen.

you open a cabinet, taking out a familiar little box. you’re willing to give this a try — anything to get some good sleep. but anxieties still run through you as you take out your phone to text your best friend.

8:35pm you: jen wyd?

you wait for a few minutes staring tiredly at your phone until a message pops up.

8:41pm jenjen: out with jaem what’s up?

you sigh, letting your friend know to forget it, and open the box. there sits a familiar note, and you trace over the neat handwritng.

call for anything. hyuck’s words ring in your ears. before you know it, you’re moving on autopilot and repeated ringing sounds through your speaker, his name displayed on the screen.

rrrring. rrrring. with every ring you feel more anxious, debating on just hanging up and resorting to melatonin, and when it reaches his voicemail, your heart sinks.

you end the call, placing your phone in your pocket and deciding to look for your forgotten sleep supplements. you don’t even take more than a couple of steps when your phone starts buzzing. you answer without even checking the id.

“__? what’s up?” his voice rings through the speakers and relief floods your system.

“hyuck, sorry to bother, but are you busy right now?” you ask.

“free for you, and not a bother, don’t apologize,” he says, and you can hear the smile on his voice. your cheeks twitch into a slight smile at his sweet words, but the tiredness seeps into your words.

“i’m gonna try your tea.. i’m so exhausted and i can’t sleep but i’m just so nervous about trying this by myself — oh and i called jeno but he’s busy — i’m sorry i ju-” your sleepy spiel is interrupted by his voice.

“woah, woah, sunshine, let’s slow it down a bit. no need to apologize for anything, really,” he assures.

you feel as though you could cry from the combination of relief and sheer exhaustion, now a little calmer explaining your circumstances and nerves at your first time having any sort of weed.

“hey, go ahead and try it, and i’ll stay on the phone until you fall asleep, okay? you can tell me if you’re feeling bad or weird or anything and i’ll be right here.”

“promise?” you ask hopefully. it’s not ideal to be asking someone you’ve known for literally a day to stay on the phone with you, but your tired mind and body scream sleep over shame.

he laughs. “you’re so cute, yes i promise.” you try not to show how much of an effect his words have on you, masking your stirring feelings by warming some water.

in the next 20 minutes, you’re sitting in bed with a cup of hot tea, taking small sips and letting the aroma waft as you chat over the phone. he’s right, the tea tastes nothing like the pungent scent of weed you are familiar with. his tea is calming and herbal.

“tell me about your day,” he requests, and you start from the call from your manager in the morning, explaining how some intern almost cost your company a client under your project, and you had to save their ass.

“you’re too good for them,” he says smugly.

“you’re just saying that, but thank you,” you reply, and he denies it, whining slightly.

“i would never say anything i don’t mean,” he asserts. he acts offended that you would even insinuate he was only flattering you, and you try not to read too much into his words, now halfway through your cup of tea.

“how about you tell me about your day, hyuck?” you ask, changing the subject.

he’s happy to talk about his day, lamenting spending his entire weekend at the shop, but explains how there were a group of unique customers today.

“this guy came in with a few friends, asking us if we have anything that could calm animals?? i honestly don’t know shit about pets but i don’t think tea and coffee are safe.” you chuckle at his animated telling of the story. “he had reeaaally nice eyebrows, though.”

your cup now sits empty on your nightstand, your head resting heavily on your pillow as you listen to him. he’s so expressive, and you hum in response to his ramblings. you have no thoughts besides how pleasing his voice is to your ears.

your eyes feel heavier and heavier as his voice sounds more and more distant.

when you wake up to your alarm set for work chiming the next morning, you feel the most rested you have in months. checking your phone, you see a missed message notification.

10:48pm hyuck =) : sleep tight, sunshine

a while has passed since your first go at the tea, and it’s three weeks until you are able to see hyuck again. at the beginning of those three weeks, you found that every couple of days hyuck would call, checking in on you. the first few calls never lasted as long as your first did, but soon you found yourself wanting to hear more of his voice.

you started to ask him how his day was before he could hang up, and after a few times of sharing back and forth, nightly calls to talk about your days became a routine.

in all honesty, you wanted to see him sooner, but the work days kicked your ass and different friends made plans on your days off. despite the chaos in other parts of your life, it felt like your nightly calls were what got you through the tiring days.

you were almost out of tea, and resorted to having the tea every other day to save. something must have shifted when you met hyuck, as even without the tea, sleep came much easier with the exception of a few days.

when you call hyuck on a friday night after work, hoping to restock and spend some time with him over the weekend, he meets your request with enthusiasm.

“didn’t realize you missed my lessons so much, my #1 student,” his teasing rings over the speakers.

“actually, youtube is sounding really good right about now,” you reply, putting up a flat tone at his remarks.

“i’m kiddinggggg jeez, come to the shop around 6 tomorrow? dress warm, we’ll try something new,” he instructs, and you agree.

sitting in your living room, you take a sip of the usual tea, noting that you’re down to your last bag. you drift off to sleep that night, and instead of the anxieties you had felt the night before the first time you met him, excitement floods your system at the thought of seeing him.

the next day’s lesson brings you to a new location, still NCTeaHouse, but the cozy back patio behind the store. strung up hanging lights are already lit, given how the sun has started to set, and the lounge couch makes it look like an ideal hangout spot.

“if you see me napping back here one of these days, you better not say anything,” you joke with hyuck.

“you’re always free to, as long as i’m invited,” he winks and you’re shaking your head at his unabashed self. you’ve gotten a lot more used to his flirty words, coming to expect at least a line or two during your nightly conversations.

“anyways, you’re probably wondering why we came out here tonight.” you nod, and he lays the contents of his pockets on the small table in front of the two of you.

“i thought we could try smoking today, if you’re comfortable,” he grins, arranging everything on the table, and you’re impressed by the assortment.

he’s got different bags of weed, wrapping papers, lighters, and little tins. he gets right into explaining, pulling out the contents of the tins. he holds up two rolls, one a little thicker than the other.

“this right here is a joint, it’s just weed. this thicker one is a blunt. it’s got nicotine in the paper so the high is a little different.” he hands them to you to look at and continues. “i prefer blunts, but depending on what you put in them, a regular joint would probably be better for someone who hasn’t smoked before.”

you never doubted jeno’s words, but hyuck really is living up to your friend’s praise of his weed knowledge. you nod in understanding at his clear explanations, handing them both back to him. he sets aside the joint and starts to put away the blunt until you stop him.

“let’s do the blunt,” you quickly interject. despite wanting to go with the more beginner-friendly option, something in you wanted to do what he liked. maybe that way you could get a little taste of his world.

“wait, are you sure? it might be a bit harsh,” he warns.

“trust me, i can take it,” you say stubbornly. he pauses almost unnoticeably with an unreadable expression at your words before it shifts into a dubious look.

“if you say soooo,” he teases. you slap his arm lightly, huffing as he laughs before getting up to grab some water before you begin. he settles back into the couch once he’s back. he picks out a blunt and his lighter, turning to you with a more serious expression.

“this high will probably feel a bit more intense than anything the tea could do, so just take it easy okay? if you start feeling bad, please tell me,” he emphasizes. “promise?” he holds out his pinky.

you nod, linking your own pinky around his. he tightens the hold and you feel your heart tighten a bit in turn. the emotions whirling in you are too complex to decipher, ranging from slight anxiety at the thought of actually being high to gratitude for hyuck’s reassurance.

“just watch, okay?” he places the blunt between his lips, lighter flicking at its edge as he inhales for a few seconds. he holds the smoke in, rotating the blunt a few times before straining his neck up to exhale a hefty cloud of smoke.

the sight leaves you breathless. hyuck is attractive, and of that you have been sure since the day you met.

but this hyuck, sitting next to you in his black leather jacket and dark jeans on the baggier side stirs something inside of you. it’s just one hit, but you’re outright entranced by his movements. he brings the blunt back to his mouth for another hit, and flicks it on an ash tray sitting on the table as he holds in the smoke.

your eyes don’t leave his hands, adorned in a few simple rings as he moves as if it’s just muscle memory, smooth and rehearsed. he again lifts his head to release the smoke, and this time you can see a vein that trails down his thick neck as it comes into full view.

what is likely not even half a minute feels like an eternity to you, and it takes a couple calls of your name to snap you out of your trance.

“earth to __? wanna try now?” hyuck waves his hand in front of you, offering the freshly ashed blunt.

“just a couple seconds, and not too strong of a pull. hold it in for a few seconds before releasing the smoke,” he instructs as you pick it out of his grasp. you nod, bringing it to your mouth.

you do as he says, pulling only for a few seconds before passing it back to him, intending to hold the smoke in. you don’t get to that point though, for as soon as the two second mark hits, your throat constricts as you involuntarily cough up the smoke you pulled from the blunt.

curses leave hyuck’s mouth as he quickly puts out the blunt, scrambling to hand you the water he brought earlier. you take it quickly, letting the water soothe your throat as you continue coughing between sips.

“are you okay?” he asks, worried expression on his face.

“i-i’m good, i thought i was gonna do better than that for my first one though,” you admit sheepishly.

“hey, we’ve got a lot of time to practice,” he reassures.

you’re not sure if the weed is already hitting you, but the warm hanging lights seem to illuminate his face even more. his fingers play with a silver chain laying on his white shirt.

“do you want to try another? or are you good?” he asks, peering into your face to check for any signs of dicomfort.

“i’ll try one more time,” you resolve, and he grins, firing the lighter back up. he holds the blunt up in front of you, and your hand moves to grab it, but he doesn’t let go, keeping it steady in front of your mouth.

“go for it, sunshine,” he gives you the go ahead, still holding it for you as your mind screams at the intimacy. you lean forward a bit to take a small hit of the blunt, trying to ignore his eyes burning into you. you make sure to inhale a little less than the first time.

“goood, just like that, now hold it in for a bit.”

you lean back into the chair as hyuck brings the blunt to his own lips, taking a drag out of it as he watches you carefully. this time, your throat doesn’t constrict, and you blow the smoke upwards emulating his earlier movements.

“that’s my girl,” he praises, smile stretched wide. you were doing so well, but his praise catches you at the very last bit of smoke leaving your throat, causing a hitch in your throat as you lightly cough.

he hands you the water again, patting your back as you curse under your breath.

“don’t worry, it’s still your first time, and i’ve heard coughing after smoking gets you even higher,” he coos, pats turning into gentle circles on your back.

you feel hyperaware of his touch, but when his hand separates from your form a piece of you longs to have it back. you glance at him as he takes another hit. you might not necessarily know what feeling high feels like yet, but whatever you’re feeling right now might just be it.

the anxiety and gratitude you felt coming into the smoke session has melted into something else — a desire of some sort that you can’t put your finger on. you know that’s not from the substance now in your system.

all you know is that the fuzzy feeling in your body and mind along with the dark-haired man next to you is something you could get used to.

after that day, something definitely shifted. you see hyuck a lot more, and every time he comes more than excited to teach you something new.

the next time you see him it’s pipes. he came prepared with two — one for you and him, and sent you home with the one you were using once you got the hang of it, insisting it liked you better.

another time is bongs. this one was pretty hard for you to get a hang of, and his hands guided yours on how to hold the bong and when to take out the bowl. it was hard to stay focused on the steps with his casual physical contact, so you’d have to revisit that.

one of the days, he even brings his dab rig set up to show you. you were completely lost with this one, and he didn’t force it, just assuring you that you could always come to him and he’d have it all ready and set for you.

he takes pride in showing you his creations, and is always quick to affirm you as you learn. while he never explicitly said he was doing it, you could tell after the first time you smoked that he wanted to find ways to make smoking a little easier on you.

you recall a specific day you came over to the shop, promised the “hyuckie special” by its namesake over the phone the night before. you were surprised to see someone other than hyuck in the shop once you arrived, especially since it was after hours.

“are you the one donghyuck’s been bringing around here?” a tall man with ashy brown hair tucked behind his ears stood behind the counter. he was really handsome, but also slightly intimidating. the tattoos on his exposed arms reminded you of your initial idea of what a plug looked like.

you muttered a timid yes as you approached the man. he definitely looked a little older than you and hyuck.

“johnny, i’m the owner of your little love nest,” he joked, hand reached out to shake yours.

you shook his hand, introducing yourself as you tried to tell him you’re just friends. before you could, hyuck busted through the front door, eyes going to your joined hands.

he stomped up to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder as you stepped back from the counter.

“what are we talking about?” he asked, pointed look at johnny. johnny just laughed loudly, clutching his stomach as you stood there, confused.

“relax lover boy,” he regained composure, turning to you. “thanks for keeping him busy, i should’ve known something was up when he stopped texting me every week whining about the shop.”

hyuck’s hand tightened around your shoulder, and he started tugging you around the back.

“don’t listen to him, bye,” he called not even looking back. johnny just waved, trying to keep down another laugh at his cousin’s erratic behavior.

“bye, __, see you around!” he waved, you returning it as best you could as hyuck pushed you through the door. as soon as you reached the back patio, a sulky hyuck started grumbling.

“you won’t be seeing him, he’s barely at his own shop anyways.” he plopped down on the couch, emptying his pockets as usual.

a lilac colored tin stuck out among his materials, and you picked it up to see what it was. his familiar neat handwriting spelled out your name.

“made that one for you, think you’d really like it,” he noticed you observing it, sulkiness gone.

a floral, herbal scent wafted to your senses once you opened it, and inside you saw a few joints.

“that’s the hyuckie special — or should i say the __ special?” he pondered, taking them from you to show them off. “i know you secretly prefer joints so don’t argue with me, but this one is a custom blend of a hybrid strain and dried lavender, you know, for your sleeping problem.”

you didn’t know what to say besides thank you over and over, touched at his consideration and the fact that he made a blend just for you. only for you.

from then on, that special blend quickly became your favorite as it really did help you relax a bit more. he would have his blunts of choice while you settled on the special formula made just for you.

your time with hyuck definitely shifted, but it wasn’t the only thing — something in you shifted as well.

that desire you felt that first night you smoked only burns brighter and hotter — the phone calls aren’t ever enough anymore, you need to see him, to be with him. even with a busy schedule with work and other friends, you make time, because being with him feels like nothing you have ever felt before.

somewhere along the routine of monotony in your life, maybe you subconsciously pushed yourself to the back of your priorities. but with hyuck, the way he takes care of you just makes you feel so prioritized, so seen.

he remembers your favorites and preferences even if mentioned only in passing, teases you with inside jokes only he could know, follows up on any gossip or worries you share, picks you up and drops you off at home, and never lets you pay for anything — food or weed alike.

you’ve never had an easier time falling asleep, with or without weed, and you can only assume that this connection with hyuck gave you a way of navigating the anxieties and negative feelings that plagued you. he felt like your person.

you could swear jeno’s eyes could fall out of his head from how wide-eyed he stares at you as you tell him all of this, from the generous lessons to the custom blend to your complex feelings growing by the day.

“you better not tell him any of this,” you warn, but jeno’s expression is still in shock. “what is it?”

“are you sure we’re talking about the same guy? hyuck? like lee donghyuck??” jeno asks in disbelief.

“yes?? who else would i be talking about?” you’re confused by your best friend’s reaction.

“no fucking way, because the hyuck i know would never do any of that. i don’t even think he knows when my birthday is,” he says.

“to be fair, i don’t think he knows when mine is either?” you offer. jeno looks straight into your eyes, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“no i mean to say — he doesn’t pay anyone that much attention, even his friends, and i know he’d never willingly shell out his weed money, let alone every single time you’re together,” he explains. “i thought the weed lesson was gonna be a one- or two-time thing, not a whole series.”

you didn’t think so either. the time you spend together isn’t even lesson-like anymore, with it just being smoke or tea sessions with endless conversation. there’s no clear definitions, but you know you need to ask jeno’s opinion.

“do you think he likes me? like likes me?” you ask your best friend. it feels silly to ask like that, to have feelings that makes you unable to think of anyone else.

but you ask even though you think you know. you’d be blind to not notice his actions, the look in his eyes, and johnny’s insinuations. jeno’s surprise at his special treatment of you is just further confirmation.

“honestly, in my eyes he’s down bad, but do you like him?” jeno asks, unsure if he’s liking where your conversation is going.

you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t. somewhere along the course of this whole thing, that desire that planted the first time you ever met him grew every time afterward and bloomed into something you could no longer contain.

you never tried to deny it, but you’re realizing this is your first time actually admitting it. you look down, suddenly shy under the focused gaze of your best friend.

“jen, i do. i really do like him,” you confess, entire body warming at the quiet declaration.

jeno’s quiet for a second before letting out a groan in response. you look up to see him with a hand over his face.

“what’s wrong?” you’re slightly offended at that response, but jeno just shakes his head.

“nothing, just always knew he was a corny flirt, just never thought you’d eat that up,” he muses. “he’s annoying, but he’s not a bad guy.”

“should i tell him?” you ask, hoping for advice. jeno shrugs.

“that’s up to you, i don’t know what your relationship with him looks like besides what you’ve told me,” he replies, not giving you an answer you so desperately want. “what i do know is i’ll kick his ass if he ever hurts you, and you can never replace me. got it?”

you lunge at your best friend, squeezing him affectionately and barraging him with promises of unchanging friendship.

you sit at your dining table reading the label of a little bag.

“a friend left this at mine the other day and told me to keep it, but i don’t fuck with weed so you can have it, little miss stoner,” jeno had said, giving you a bag of gummy edibles before dropping you off at home after dinner.

you thanked him for it at the time, taking it with you inside. edibles are the form of weed you are least experienced with. hyuck had explained them briefly, but you’ve never done them with him since he doesn’t really like them too much. he reasoned that smoking helps him control his intake better.

you’re feeling a little daring tonight, however. you have a lot more experience with weed now, and your tolerance has definitely risen.

though you’re a little nervous about trying them without hyuck, it’s too late to call and you feel a bit more confident at your weed capabilities. the you from the beginning of this weed journey would be surprised at how much you’ve changed.

it’s just a little gummy, how bad could it be? plus you have the next day off, kicking that worry. you pull out a single pineapple gummy, splitting it into halves before eating one. you settle into your couch, turning on your tv to let the edible kick in.

when an hour passes and you still don’t feel anything, you’re confused. you look up how long it takes for an edible to hit and check the package for an expiration date, but everything seems fine. has your tolerance risen that much?

you pick up the other half of the gummy, looking at it carefully before deciding it wouldn’t hurt to have a little more. the dosage per piece is not anything concerning, so you eat the other half without thinking too much.

when your eyes start to blur in the next 5 minutes, you know you’ve made a mistake.

you’re glued to your couch, staring at the ceiling as the high runs through your body, feeling a slight tingle from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, coming and going in intense waves. your thoughts race, and 99% of your thoughts are consumed by hyuck, hyuck, and hyuck.

an uncertain amount of time has passed, your phone forgotten somewhere in your apartment, but you feel like you’re in an endless cycle of a million thoughts turning into no thoughts at all, all while your body is experiencing such a new, yet heavy feeling.

the smoking high is definitely different from this edible high, and you start to understand why hyuck prefers the former.

you don’t feel like you’re in control of yourself at all, and the feeling is entirely too overwhelming. the second half of that edible hits, with the high intensifying and your thoughts jumping yet again.

a feeling of dread runs through you.

you had been doing well keeping a general positive/neutral train of thought on that first half of the edible, but the second a single negative thought hits you, you find yourself unable to stop the spiral.

why did you do this to yourself? don’t you need to focus on other things? are you going to let this be another thing that drags you down? what does hyuck really think of you? do you really think he feels the same way as you?

you fight back against your own thoughts, wrestling to tell yourself that everything with him has been nothing but good, but the intensity of this high brings an entirely new side to all of this — paranoia.

hyuck had explained before that paranoia could come with being high, but you had overtime forgotten the possibility. being high has given nothing but good times and relaxation, but all of that could probably be attributed to the company you had getting there.

you don’t even realize you have tears streaming out of your eyes until your hand comes back wet after rubbing your face.

it’s all too much, and more than anything your mind screams that you need hyuck.

you force yourself to get up, hazy eyes looking for your phone, spotting it on the dining table.

12:27am. hyuck should still be awake gaming, and you can only hope that he is. you crumple to the floor as you quickly find his contact and call him.

only one ring passes when he picks up.

“what’s up, sunshine?” his voice rings through the speaker and you can hear the click of his mouse and keyboard in the background. immediately a sense of relief washes through your body, slightly breaking through the high and has the tears flowing harder than before.

“h-hyuck,” you sob, and immediately the sound of clicking stops.

“are you crying? what’s wrong? are you okay?” his concern makes you want to cry even more, but more than that you want him here with you.

“hyuck, i-i took an edible and i think i took too much and i’m so overwhelmed right now — i can’t stop thinking and crying and i’m just so scared,” you weep, and you hear rustling coming from the phone and the clinking of keys before you’re even done with your sentence.

“stay on the phone with me, baby, i’ll be right there, what’s your apartment number?”

he really knows you like the back of his hand. somehow, he knows that what you need most is him. even if he didn’t know that, the fact that he’s rushing over without you even having to ask helps you shut down the voices that tell you he doesn’t care.

10 minutes of affirmations and sweet words come as you cry, trying so desperately to hold back from telling him everything you’ve been feeling, including what you feel about him.

when his call cuts off with a knock at your front door, you stumble over to let him in, legs having fallen asleep from your position on the floor as you called him.

as soon as you open the door and see him, hair freshly washed and in a hoodie and sweats, the anxiety leaves you like a spell. his glasses are slightly fogged, and he’s catching his breath from rushing up here.

the second he gets a glimpse of your puffy eyes and tear streaked face, he comes in, enveloping you in the warmest, tightest hug.

you immediately melt into him, wrapping your arms around him as he leans back against the front door. you stay there for a few minutes, emptying your eyes out as he comforts you.

“hey, why is my pretty girl crying? what are you so scared of? i’m right here,” he coos as one arm remains securely around you as the other hand alternates between patting your head and massaging the back of your neck.

when the tears seem to have subsided, he waddles over with you still in his arms to your living room couch, and you remain firmly attached to him. he checks your face for anymore tears, and when he finds none, sits you on the couch to get you some water.

“where are your cups?” he asks, checking the cabinets, and you tell him there’s bottles in the fridge. you look at him from your spot on the couch, and immediately feel your heart pang.

this is the first time he’s actually been inside your apartment, but you can’t help but think that he looks so perfect here — that your living space somehow feels more complete than it ever has.

when he sits down with you, handing you tissues and water, he has a hand on your arm, rubbing up and down as you gulp down some water, only now realizing how dry your mouth is.

“so you wanna tell me what’s going through that pretty head of yours? and who you got these edibles from? because i know it wasn’t fucking me.” some agitation peeks through his otherwise neutral tone, but his eyes are serious as he waits for your answer.

you tell him about how jeno gave it to you, and hand him the package as he reads the label.

“you had one piece right? that should be fine, but it looks like you might be a bit more sensitive to this since it’s your first time with edibles.” he scolds you lightly, tapping your forehead. “still, i wish you would have called me to at least be on the phone with you when you tried it.”

“i-i wanted to, trust me. but it was late and i thought i could handle it,” you explain.

“that’s why i hate those things, only take them when i really want to feel high as shit, but look what they’ve done to you, baby,” he frowns, going back to rubbing your arms up and down. “any weed needs, you come to me, okay? don’t need my girl going to others for that when i’ve got more than enough.”

my girl.

you realize in your hazy state that his usual “sunshine” has been replaced with other, more endearing, names — my girl, my pretty girl, baby. the sound of his voice has always been addicting to you, but the affectionate names leaving his mouth take it a step further.

you want to hear more. with a boldness that could only be fueled by the weed still running its course through your system, you lean into him, laying your head on his shoulder.

“can you call me that again?” you murmur into his shoulder.

“what?” his voice right next to your ear sends chills all over your body.

“you know.. your girl.. i really like how that sounds.” immediately he’s separated from you, hands holding you at the upper arms as he looks at you with wide eyes.

“what?” he repeats again, and you could almost laugh at how shocked he looks at you mentioning a name he called you.

“your girl.. or baby too..” you say, dazed. you are definitely coming down from your high, but the ensuing sleepiness is making you even more honest. but more than anything, you want to be honest with him right now.

“wanna be your baby, hyuck.”

he lets out a pained groan at your words, running a hand over his face.

“__, you’re high as fuck. you don’t know what you’re saying,” he says, bottom lip between his teeth.

“i know what i’m saying,” you hook your finger around his chain, tugging him a little closer. “i want you to be my baby, too.”

you lean in, closing the distance between you as your faces hover just centimeters from each other. hyuck holds his breath, eyes darting from your glossy eyes down to your lips. he can’t help it, eyes getting hazy as you close the distance, kissing him.

he returns your energy, pressing closer to you with his hands grasping your waist. he moves to deepen the kiss, but after a few seconds the pressure on your waist increases, shutting his eyes tighter before pushing you back slightly.

“i hope you still mean this in the morning, because i want to be yours too,” he has a slightly pained smile. “but you’re so high right now, i don’t want to do anything you’d regret once you’re sober.” you whine at him trying to kiss him again while he stops you, holding your shoulders.

“don’t tempt me, you don’t know how hard you’re making this for me, baby.” he gets up, tugging you up along with him. “let’s get you to bed, sunshine.” he lets you lead him to your bedroom, his hands set on your shoulders, and you plop down on your bed, eyes already heavy.

you hold out your arms to him.

“sleep here tonight?” you ask, and he groans after slapping a hand over his eyes.

“you’re testing me,” he chokes out. you jut out your lower lip, but your eyes threaten to shut any moment.

“i’m not testing you, i just want to wake up to you, is that too much to ask?” in his eyes, you look so cute cuddled up in your bed, eyes begging him to stay. his heart soars as he realizes the sight he’s seen in his dreams could be a reality, starting now.

“i really can’t win against you, just give me a second.” he leaves for a little while, turning off the lights throughout your apartment and making sure the front door is locked before sliding into bed with you.

he immediately pulls you by the waist closer to him, and you, drifting to sleep, cuddle into his chest.

“i won’t do anything okay? don’t worry about anything,” he promises sincerely.

“thank you hyuck.. thank you..” you mumble a bit, nuzzling into him further, sleep taking over. he just holds you tighter.

“sleep tight, sunshine.”

that’s the last thing you hear before you enter into a deep, deep sleep, feeling secure and warm wrapped up in hyuck’s arms.

you wake up to soft snoring and long arms wrapped around you, and as you rub the sleep from your eyes his face comes into full view.

hyuck is sleeping so peacefully in front of you, and if one thing remains from your raging high last night, it’s that hyuck just fits perfectly in your space, it feels overwhelmingly good in his arms, and you want him here always.

“i like you,” the words come out as a whisper as you brush some hair from his forehead. he pops one eye open, elliciting a gasp from you.

“all good, sunshine?” he asks, and you nod. in a second he’s closing the distance between you two, laying a tender kiss on your lips. his arms tighten around you as you lean into him, letting yourself indulge in his warm kisses.

“this isn’t a dream right?” you ask sleepily, and he chuckles at the way you open and close your eyes to see if he’s still there.

“you dream about me?” he grins, and you hide your face back in his chest, nodding slowly. “good, because i dream about you too.”

any sleepiness you had has dissipated completely, and you feel like your heart would explode if you met his eyes right now. his hand, however, meets your chin to tilt your head back up.

“i like you too, by the way, if it wasn’t already obvious,” and with his own confession he meets your lips once more.

it takes a while for the two of you to get out of bed, with both of you dozing off and on, sharing lazy kisses and cuddles until hyuck’s stomach starts rumbling.

“maybe we should get something to eat?” you suggest, starting to slip off the blanket. he’s quick to try and stop you, but before he can catch you you’ve stood up, tugging hyuck by the arm.

“5 more minutes, pleaaaase,” he whines, arm going limp at your efforts to get him up.

“it’s already almost dinnertime, hyuck,” you check your phone, surprised at how much time has passed. his glasses sit next to your phone on the nightstand. while you’re distracted, he sits up at the edge of the bed, looking at you with a darker expression.

his hands trail down your waist, squeezing lightly once he reaches your hips. you drop your phone to be met with his hooded eyes trained on your lips. his eyes meet yours, and your breath hitches as he tightens his grip on your hips.

“i think i’d like to eat something else,” he whispers, leaning into your neck, peppering kisses from the bottom of your chin down your throat. you let out a surprised whimper at the sensation, chills running down your arms.

you move your head down, wanting to kiss him, and as if he reads your mind, his lips meet yours with a passion mirroring the one from the night before.

“lay down, let me get my fill, sunshine,” he urges, feeling himself already incredibly hard at the thought of himself between your legs.

“we’ve been in bed all day, we should take showers and eat first or something,” you start, but you’re cut off with a sharp tug, hyuck pulling you beside him. he sinks to his knees by your legs hanging off the bed.

“later, i need you so bad, you have no idea.” his hands move under your shirt as he loops his hands in the waistband of your sleep shorts.

“do you want this, baby?” he asks as you lean back on your arms, meeting his pleading eyes from his spot between your legs. you gnaw on your lip, already feeling the dampness on your panties. you do want this. so bad.

“i want you, hyuck,” you give him the go ahead. he’s more than willing to give you everything you want and more. he pulls your shorts down your legs, groaning at the sight of the wet patch on your underwear.

he pulls that off as well, spreading your lips with his pointer and middle fingers as he admires your core.

“stop staring, it’s embarrassing,” you look away, hips shifting as you feel yourself getting more and more turned on by the second.

“just admiring, baby,” he states warmly, glancing up at your embarrassed expression as he wraps his arms around your legs, hands digging in as he grabs at the flesh of your thighs.

he leans in, licking a stripe from your entrance up to your clit, ending his trail with a swirl of your bud. you moan out at the sensation, clutching at your sheets as he really gets his fill.

he’s messy, tongue going from prodding at your entrance to his face moving side to side over your clit. a growl leaves his throat as he feels your hands move to grip his hair.

“you don’t even know what you were doing to me last night, baby,” he groans into your cunt. “had me going fucking crazy.”

one of his arms unwraps from your thigh, hand pushing at your legs to keep them spread as his long fingers prod at your entrance, one entering you slowly as you grip his hair even tighter. he drags it in and out of you in time with the circles he licks around your clit.

“you’re my baby, right?” he asks, voice sending vibrations through you. he inserts another finger into your entrance and curls them into you, feeling around for a spot that will get you moving just right. he’s stretching you out so well, getting you prepared, wanting you to feel good.

you can’t even respond, already feeling your mind start to wander off, feeling a high so different from every other one he’s shown you. he finds a spot that makes you squeal just a bit higher, and he pistons his fingers in and out to hit that spot just right.

“where’s my sunshine from last night? the one hanging on to me, cute as fuck,” he recalls your high state, how you just melted into him in a different way from how he had you now.

“come on, one more time, don’t you remember? wanna be your baby, hyuck,” raising his voice to a teasing tone in a half-hearted imitation of you. his fingers don’t falter in the slightest.

“please sunshine, let me hear that again?” your mouth, open from the cries leaving you, can’t form any words. he leans down to lay a hard suck on your clit, sending you over the edge as you cry out, legs clamping down on his head as he rides out your orgasm.

he detaches from you as your legs drop, and he stands up between them to get a full view of you fucked out for him.

“fuck, baby, you look so fucking good right now. straight out of my dreams.” he palms himself over his sweats, feeling like he could burst any second, before ripping off his hoodie.

the sight of him standing over you, silver chain lying on his bare chest, is also something out your own dreams. you can feel yourself clench seeing his cock straining through his sweats. you catch your breath, mustering the energy squeeze him between your thighs.

in a second he’s pulling his sweats down, hard member slapping his stomach as he lays it on top of your core, admiring how it looks on your body.

“does my pretty girl need to be filled up?” he teases, pushing your legs up as he starts to tease at your entrance with his tip. you want it so bad, need it.

“then let me hear it, you’re my baby, right?” he lets his tip catch onto your entrance as you gasp.

“f-fuck, hyuck, i’m your baby! i’m your ba-” the second half of the word comes out as a shriek at the feeling of him entering you, bottoming out right away thanks to his prep. the feeling of being so full winds you, stealing the air from your lungs.

he hisses as your pussy grips him, throwing his head up. you can see the vein on his neck protruding, thick neck strained as he tries to get himself in check.

“relax for me, please baby,” he pleads through gritted teeth, circling your clit. “can’t move like this, i’ll cum too soon.”

you breathe in and out as the two of you try to reel it in, and his hips start to move slowly as he feels you adjust to him.

“you’ve been my baby since the day we met,” he breathes out. “since the time you told me you could take it.”

his voice has always been addicting, over the phone, in person, sober or high, but the way he talks to you in this moment just stirs something in your gut. you can’t stop yourself from clenching at his words.

“oh, you like when i talk to you like that?” he pulls out to push you up so your legs are no longer hanging off the bed, making his way to hover above you as he re-enters you.

“you’ve always been so good for me, always so eager to learn, always so willing to take everything i give you,” he lowers himself as he says this straight into your ear. his hips pick up the pace again, hissing at the clench from his words.

“can you, f-fuck, can you take it now?” he breathes out as he feels himself reaching you deeper and deeper.

“i-i can take it, hyuck, i can take it,” you moan out, tears pricking at your eyes as you shut them tight. he’s fucking you so well, and you can only moan as you do just that — take everything he’s giving you.

“you know ’d never do any of this for anyone else, o-only you baby, just wanna make my girl happy,” your heart clenches at his words along with your pussy.

“thought m-my heart was gonna stop when, shit, w-when you called me crying,” his words come out more choked as his hips rut against yours more desperately, starting to feel his own high coming.

“need to be with you a-always, be the only reason you’re crying.” you can only chant his name and yes as you feel the band in your stomach start to get tighter and tighter.

“i’d fucking do anything for you, i’m yours,” he chokes out, and your nails dig into his back.

“i’m your baby, i’m yours, i’m yours,” you repeat, brain unable to form anything else. his kisses your neck before moving his head back above you, his chain swinging against your face as his pelvic bone slaps against your clit harshly.

he moves his head up to kiss you deeply, messy remnants of your own arousal still on his toungue. the bed is creaking under the harsh movements as you get closer and closer.

tears stream down the sides of your face as the band snaps, sending you hurling over the edge as your back arches, gripping onto him tightly.

he curses under his breath repeatedly, hips stuttering to push through the tightness as he cums inside with a loud groan, pushing his head into your neck as he fills you up completely.

he goes limp on top of you, lying there for a bit as you both catch your breath. his softening cock is still inside of you, and you can feel yourself getting drowzy until his stomach rumbles.

he hisses as he pulls out, rolling over to lie down next to you. you turn your head to look at him, entire body spent. your eyes meet his, so soft and full of awe. he looks just as worn, but little do you know, he’s just getting started.

“round 2 after dinner?”

the next morning, a half-asleep hyuck nuzzles you to wake you up, having set an alarm for your work shift.

“sleep okay, sunshine?” his morning voice is deep and groggy, and it’s taking everything in you to not call out for the day.

you feel pretty well rested until you realize how sore your entire body is as soon as you try to wiggle out of his bear hug. his arms wrapped around you are unmoving as he tries unsuccessfully to fully wake himself up as well.

forcing yourself to sit up, you rub your sore back. his hands are still stubbornly attached to your form.

“like a baby,” you reply. you grab your phone, checking your schedule for today, concluding that it’s flexible enough to take a sick day. you text your manager, settling back into hyuck’s arms as you tell him you’re staying home. eyes still half-closed, he presses kisses into every part of your face his lips can find.

“good.” his response is simple as he speaks with his actions, pulling you in closer as the two of you drift back into sleep.

you’re content knowing that your mission to get rid of your sleeping problem was a 100% success, in more ways than just through weed, and that it’s ending with you having more than you could have asked for.

end.

a/n: if you got to the end, thank you so much for reading!!! i know i say this about every fic i've written, but this one was truly truly self-indulgent. it's my first full fic for my ult, longest fic yet, and a birthday present to myself :')

i really appreciate all the support for everything even though i have long gaps between releases. i have had sm fun, and i hope you all enjoy!! this one's more plot than porn but it's def getting a pt2 that's the opposite (it's already planned). thank you again, feedback always loved and appreciated!!

disclaimer: know your limits when consuming weed of any kind. also not all edibles are bad and can be so chill, just for my personal experience my own tolerance of edibles is low compared to smoking 😭 reactions/tolerances vary among people (edibles work better than smoking for many!) but pls be in safe place or with trusted people if you are trying weed for the first time !!!

-coco ♡