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#as in. “would rather starve for days on the hope of Food That Is Not That than eat it” levels
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|| My fellow Colonel
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Y’all asked for it and here it is. Whew, I wrote all of it today so here’s to hoping it is tolerably alright. Also, as an aside, I am just shy of 1k followers and that’s astounding to me. I had to rebuild this blog from scratch in December after two previous deactivations where I lost a similar amount collected over a far longer time. I’m truly so grateful for each of you who take an interest in sharing this little corner of the internet with me. Thank you, thank you!
Warnings: usual universe warnings apply, 18+ with additional chapter warnings for gore and violent character death, brief mention of racial discrimination and a very dark headspace for Ida at times including brief yet crassly recollected sexual assault
April 1945, escape spoilers ahead
“Bitte.” Ida kept her hands placating, outstretched and harmless by her side, the most open expression on her face that she could summon as she stared the woman down, “Bitte nicht!”
For eleven days she and Smith and Cleven had managed to scrounge their way westward, evading recapture or altercation. But eating from the dead horses on the side of the road was out of the question, agricultural fields were churned to sludge by Amtrak’s and the small amount of wheat berries they found in one abandoned supply truck had long since ceased to fuel their weakening bodies.
They had passed by a camp, one that they observed from the shelter of the woods to be abandoned or liquidated, once used for civilian labor, judging by the signs. After a careful reconnaissance it was agreed that Ida should go and act on her hope that the commandant's empty dwelling may not have been completely ransacked. That there might be some leftover provisions either there, or in the homes of the other personnel. She had had no luck at the commandant’s, it had been empty, no luck in the next idyllic little shack either, only the eerie knickknacks of some bygone person whose vocation it was to deal in pure evil.
In the third house she had found jars of spoiled milk, tubers of some sort gone to sprouts but she did not care, she grabbed a ratty towel lying on the floor and made a sling for them. She was in the process of prying a loose floorboard up, anticipating some root cellar below when the whining creak of a sneaking step sounded behind her in the still place.
She whirled around in a crouch, half expecting either one of her companions or else one of the many starving children they encountered on the road. Instead, silhouetted inside the bright doorway there was a woman, in the uniform of a guard and with a Lugar poised at the ready. Ida felt a cold spike of fear at the flashing recollection of her last encounter with such a female, at the horrid misery that was Ravensbruck, the complete and entire lack of respect shown to her or her girls by these indoctrinated tools.
Ida’s grasp of German had been sufficient enough to keep herself and her companions away from suspicion in their occasional interactions with passersby. While she wore the heavy overcoat of a military man, it had no markings, and it was just as likely for some freezing civilian to steal it off a carcass as it was for an American female officer to be on the loose. Ida knew this and she tried to play at being dumb, pointing to the food, explaining in unstudied desperation that she was starving.
The female guard observed her coldly, her impassive face showing a certain lack of curiosity or even remote interest in Ida’s narrative that made her heart quicken with a presentment of a swift and sudden execution. She has seen these guards lift a gun, squeeze the trigger, and move on boredly all in the matter of a second. What about her own features or story were so compelling to prevent it?
“Bitte nicht!” She repeated again, choosing to take a step forward, eyeing the woman’s grip and posture, professional, soldierly, the woman left little opening for Ida to capitalize on, but she would rather get a bullet in the gut while fighting than be shot hunkering over stolen potatoes.
There was a darkening in the doorway, it caught Ida’s eye right before she timed her launch. It was Cleven. His appearance made her hesitate a moment too long. He had his arm barred around the guard’s throat in an instant but the pistol was out of his reach and one stride too far away from Ida’s grasp. Unlike the hapless children in the forest that had attacked them days ago, this officer had bullets. Ida felt the searing tear of its bite smart her shoulder, blurring her vision in pain before she rushed in, clasping her own hands around the pale wrist.
Cleven had the woman’s eyes rolling back with his grip, her grapple at his forearm growing feeble as her oxygen ran low. Another shot rang out, a bullet embedding in the ceiling rafters as Ida managed to wrench it away at last. She turned it on the woman and fired, only to find her luck run out again, as well as the chamber.
There was a knife in the guard's boot, both women seemed to think of it at the same instant as the guard became possessed with a final animated struggle to reach for it, desperate to break out of Cleven’s strangle. But Ida wasn’t about to watch another friend die, or miss her chance to go home, to bear witness to what her girls, her men, her brother were yet enduring, not to spare herself a fleeting moment of misplaced mercy. She dove for the boot, wrenched the knife free from its sheath and drove the blade in under the sternum, carving it upwards as she herself rose to her feet. Her wrist was fully in the chest cavity, arm covered with warm still living blood, by the time she saw the guard’s head loll impassively against Cleven’s chest, the soul finally gone dim behind the eyes.
“Sweet Jesus.” He stepped back from the corpse, letting go. Ida felt the weight of the body in her wrist as her grip on the knife was all that kept it standing. She tore the weapon free with another sickly gush, and blearily observed it crumple to the floor.
“There are spuds.” she told Cleven as she braced her hands on her knees, nodding to her abandoned sack of potatoes. The edges of her vision were blurring from the exertion, her coat sleeve was soaked to the elbow, but she had a weapon now and a dead Nazi at her feet. Both sat well with her.
The potatoes bought them another days walk, with Smith using the ratty towel to wrap Ida’s shoulder, it was only a flesh wound. That evening they had another run in, but this time it was with the friendly faces of gum chewing yanks who were welcoming with their smokes and their K rations. Poor infantry boys, they were bamboozled by the existence of a female officer, the experiment of integration having only added to the flyboys somewhat derisive glamor. But it was mostly awe, and a healthy amount of respect, that they showed for the blood smeared lady Colonel.
“That make you one of Brady’s Banshees?” one bright corporal made conversation with Ida as he allowed her a seat beside himself on the hood of a tank, it was a hitched ride into Belgium.
“She is Brady.” Smith drawled for her, enjoying far more than Ida how gobsmacked the man was to be in the presence of feminine greatness.
They were welcomed warmly everywhere by their fellow allies, ferried like heroes on any conveyance possible. Smith was their cheery intercessor, knowing her superiors were of so torn a spirit and conflicted of conscience as to be half inclined to go back to where they came from. In truth, Ida could hardly bring herself to board the last plane -an unbelievable courtesy taking them from Paris straight to Thorpe- as all she could think on were what repercussions might have been exacted on the others for their escape. And what cruelties she had left her brother to endure without her.
Cleven was not much better; Egan, Maureen, all of them still left behind. As they took their seats on the benches, felt the old nostalgic rumble of the engines, not of a Fort but of a Gooneybird, what should have been a lightening of spirits as they soared over the channel was instead a dismal camaraderie of guilt.
That fateful night when they had all agreed to escape before crossing the Danube, the organization had been infuriatingly chaotic yet the groups were chosen with emphatic pragmatism. The guards were used to watching certain persons in company with their favorite fellows. The Bradys, the Buckys, Smith and Murph, each had some comrade the Germans expected to be their partner in any subversive endeavor. With this in mind, their agreed-upon groups were intentionally fractured to confuse their captors, each hoping to meet up somewhere on the road or in the forest.
Cleven and Ida had waited only a few hundred yards in the tree line for over an hour, hoping to be joined by their fellows. In the end only Smith came, with the word that the gig was up, Egan had been detained, John Brady never even began to saunter off before they closed the perimeter. No more were coming. It took all of Smith’s vicious logic to keep the officers from going back, she had to lean on reminders of reprisals and certain death, how they could in no way alleviate the suffering of the others by rejoining them.
What they could do was carry through, escape, go back to England, spread the word, liberate.
Despite this inner turmoil, Ida felt like kissing the ground when her feet landed on East Anglian soil. Or, rather, the cement of the old familiar runway. Instead she settled for Crosby‘s cheeks, the beaming fellow being so utterly honest in his welcome that some tiny part of her melted in momentary relief at having actually made it. That hadn’t really sunk in, not until there was an English mist pelting her face and Harry’s crinkled cheeks between her hands.
“A major?!” she repeated his rank and felt prouder than his mother in that moment while Harry blushed scarlet under the affirmation.
“A-and a father.” tumbled out of his mouth as a deflection except, that subject made a great hullabaloo too, with even Cleven growing exuberant in his congratulatory shoulder slapping. “What am I doing makin’ you stand out here, get in the jeep sirs, I’ll take you to a hut, or-or the club? Or the doctor?”
Both Ida and Cleven stiffened in their swing into the jeep at the last suggestion, a brittle defensiveness tightening their smiles, “Bed and board are all we need, thanks Crosby.” Gale gave him one of those devastatingly final little nods of his.
They kept him occupied and rambling on the ride, updates on new crews, new buildings, Jeffreys, Meatball, the improvement of rations, tales of bombing Berlin, the prospect of victory within reach. By the time he’d parked outside Cleven’s old barracks, Harry knew next to nothing about their own experiences, and he felt that somehow to have been quite calculated.
“There’s still a ladies sector, Colonel,” Harry assured Ida, much to her confusion as to why there wouldn’t be, “I’ll take you and Smith there.”
The old hut was as she remembered it, same as all the others, curved metal amplifying the patter of rain and the monotonous comfort of Air Force regulated bunking. It hit then, no more wooden combines or roadside shelters. She was really back.
“Where the hell is everyone?” Smith asked, the place eerily quiet, even for midday.
“There at- there at work.” Crosby offered haltingly.
Suspecting something dreadful, or as Bucky liked to say of her instincts -sniffing out bullshit- Ida slowly turned to Crosby and gave him a stare, one she recalled having once effectively shrank the man by a few literal inches. Perhaps because it was remarkably similar to her brother’s. Harry bore up under it better now, oak leaf cluster on his breast or a hard three years adding some spine to him, she didn’t know, but still his expression wavered guiltily.
“At work?” she repeated his phrasing, “That what the kids call war these days?”
“A few, a couple, -some,” he settled on, “are on missions. We’ve been uh, we’ve been running a lot of missions. Picking up prisoners -like you guys.”
“The rest?”
“At work.”
“Where’s this work?”
“Uh, well, various posts, you know how it is-“
“-grounded?” She supplied.
“Well, yeah. Just like Douglass and me and-“
“They badly hurt? Who’re we talking about?”
“Colonel,” Harry begged her, looking mildly close to drowning on dry land and sending a wet eyed sos at Smith, “dozens of them are posted here. Grounded yes, but, in good positions, required positions-“
“Did they get corresponding promotions?” Ida hit back, “Were they grounded because they were too valuable or were they hurt? Or did they just get squirreled away in some cupboard with a typewriter?”
“Look, uh, sir,” Harry chuckled nervously, “a lot of them are on missions, some of them are at their jobs -where I should be right now. But, it’s true, uh, the brass thought that, well they weren’t sure, Ida, when we got word you’d escaped we wanted to welcome you back right and uh, we didn’t know what to expect. We’ve had a lot of reports. Some reassuring and a lot…not. Not reassuring at all. And uh, we didn’t know what to expect, they didn’t know and uh, depending on how you were, it could affect the morale. So they thought, clear the place out a little, yeah? Make sure you were -you were…”
“Didn’t wanna scare the kids.” Ida supplied, tone softened, suspecting she probably did look half witch from all her trials.
“We didn’t know what to expect.” Harry repeated, a significant amount of relief bleeding into his voice, like he was going to get choked up on her mere continued existence.
“Well I need a change of clothes, and I need a shower.” Ida smiled at him until he gave her a fastidious look while glancing at her blood stained coat and she sent him a sour glare in return, “And a nap. And then I dare say nothing about me will be cause for alarm, not even for general LeMay.”
Harry was back to chuckling nervously as he walked his way backwards out the hut. “Of course, yeah, uh, we tried to supply uniforms, laid them out -best we could scrounge, for now.”
“Thanks Croz.” Smith offered, trying to soften the ending of this interaction.
“Before you go,” Ida stalled him, “tell me a little about the new ones? Who should I know? What should I know? Hate to wake up in here and have to start making acquaintances from scratch.”
“Colonel,” Harry answered her in the most mournful voice, “there aren’t any new ones.”
That old whiff of cold dread was back. “Crosby.”
“They uh, after you went down, colonel they, they scrapped the program.”
“You cannot be-“ Ida rubbed at her throat, trying to get it to open up, wondering what the hell it must be like to be Gale Cleven and get to come back to Thorpe Abotts and nothing be different, get to be home and get to find everything where it should be because your own higher ups aren’t fighting against you right along with the bastards with the flak and the barbed wire and the endless taunts about women being made for breeding. “Crosby what do you mean scrapped? They shut it down?” she wished she sounded angry, but she knew it was a cry, and to his credit he looked ready to cry for her.
“Colonel I’m so sorry, the reports were so alarming and the-“ he shook his head, “-they grounded all female servicemen right after. Cut the program, if it wasn’t for Kidd they might’ve sent them all back, discharged or moved to the WASPS. Well, they stayed, but, it’s not- it’s not what it was, colonel.”
Ida bit her lip, that old throbbing pain from the old injury of her cheek bloomed again, it felt like arriving at the stalag in one too many ways. “Y-you said something about, you said some were up on missions.” She wracked her brain for it and found it, that one bit of hope and she clung to it like a woman drowning.
“Yeah!” Crosby was over eager to soothe the pain with the modicum of good news he had, “They are! Rosenthal he uh, he’s over the squadrons now and uh, he’s seen to it they are allowed up. Mostly uh, mercy runs or behind allied lines, they don’t want anyone captured but, they’re up. They’re getting their thirty missions. They’ve uh, they’ve changed the number, since you were here.”
“Thirty.” she repeated numbly.
Harry’s footsteps had long ago receded along the gravel outside by the time Ida allowed herself enough movement to sink atop the pristinely made bed in her filthy clothes and just stare at the opposite bunk of equally pristine sheets and all of it so pristine and so rigorous and so proud and so pristine and so-
The echo of her own scream startled her, banging off the tin walls and circling back to her. Ida felt more than saw the implacable Tallulah Smith jump in fright beside her, but that level headed woman knew better than to soothe her officer. Not after what they’d just learned. She bit her tongue and busied herself sorting amongst the clothes and provisions for towels, combs, soap, toothbrushes. Ida watched this rich display of care on the part of their fellows with a snarl bending her lip, she could taste salt and knew she was also crying and all that she could hear amongst the cacophony in her head was a desperate wail -she didn’t want combs and towels, she wanted her squadron back.
Some aspect of this heartbroken petulance must’ve shown on her face as Smith extended both a comb and towel to her with forceful kindness, “LeMay didn’t lay these out.” was all she commented. “Think of it as Harry’s hospitality. You look a mess, and won’t get any respect for it.”
Smith had some vantage point from which to speak, Ida knew. Native American with bronzed skin just shy of being segregated twice over, getting screwed over was something Smith had made into an art form of cat and mouse. Ida had long admiringly observed it; she never thought she’d need to adopt a similar posture to this degree. Not when she felt like grabbing at the knife still in her trench coat pocket and making a charming scene and all it would get her was confirmation of the reports.
Whatever those were. Alarming reports, apparently. It was so very upper brass of them all to find the enemy’s methods unfortunate and so shoot themselves in the foot like it evened things out.
“I’ll be along in a minute.” Ida insisted to Smith from her bunk, refusing more than the towel and comb.
They’d all been through hell for daring to be combatants. But Ida, at this news of her loss, was beginning to recall particular parts of her own hell she had not dwelt on since they occurred.
Colonel -the way each had called her that, sneering at the mere concept of a colonel with a cunt, an officer so easily breached, a leader made by her Creator to be bent over and taken. She’d had a squadron then, and no amount of scorn or cruelty could take that from her; no, only her friends could take that away.
And they had.
Robert Rosenthal was giving himself a little pump up speech as he stalled outside with his hand on the door knob, knowing he needed to knock first and that knocking would buy him a little more time to ready himself, and so he really should go ahead and knock. The pattering drizzle on his hat brim should have been human incentive enough to get inside already, if duty and honor and admiration weren’t quite cutting it today. But he stalled, even went so far as to cast an indefensibly juvenile and furtive glance over his shoulder at the shrinking form of the accommodating lady who’d passed him on his march here. A Lieutenant Smith, who had told him she was glad to be back and that her famed superior was still inside-
“Angry as God after catching the Israelites worshiping cows at Mount Carmel.”
Rosenthal knew Ida Brady had every reason to be utterly furious, hell -he was furious for her, with her, about her. And he had no right to stand there and wish she wouldn’t take it out on him, to defend himself with shitty excuses like the fact a few of the girls got to see the top of clouds because he had put his shiny and promoted boot down and asked for it. He wasn’t exactly the problem, perhaps, but he was, by sheer implication of it being men like him unable to require better treatment, at fault. And so, Rosie stood in the drizzle and gave himself one last minute to think about Colonel Ida Brady as she had been the last time he’d seen her, terrifyingly formidable and utterly kind.
“It’s no worse than your dread of it, I swear.” she had told him and Nash that night before their first time up, “I was relieved to have seen it.”
What had she seen since? He stared at the little leather binder in his hand and scoffed at the administrative mission that carried him here. To hell with it. He knocked, he waited, he knocked once more, and he went in.
The stipple of rain on the roof of an empty Nissen hut was a calming background noise he himself savored whenever possible. Despite their bare aesthetic and extreme practicality, there was a serenity to them as well, and on spotting a seated figure a few bunks down from the entrance, he felt a pang of empathy for the desire to just decompress.
She looked up at the sound of his footfalls, not startled in the least. Not angry. In fact, she looked utterly dazed, like the men he’d helped out of their forts after a bad run of it. A face he’d seen in the mirror once or twice or a couple dozen. There was a docile listlessness in her gaze that he knew better than to be comforted by, despite the selfish feeling of relief at not immediately being eviscerated about her squadron. She was gaunt, understandably so, her strong jaw so pronounced he could cut his thumb on it, the pallor of her skin jarred unsettlingly with her dark brows, set off in stark relief by her tangled, jet black hair. Her overcoat was half muddy brown, half doleful rust. There was a bloody story there, a recent one, not washed away by a hard rain or bath. Rosenthal didn’t have any doubt how that struggle had ended for her assailant: she was here, wasn’t she?
He’d never seen anything more magnificent in all his life than this battered figure sat on a pristine cot with dawning recognition in her eyes.
“Welcome back, Colonel!” he ventured, keeping his tone soft as befitted the setting, yet unable to keep the creeping happiness at her return from showing in his voice.
“Mm, yes. Rosenthal.” Ida was straightening automatically, rising from her seat, shrugging off her clumsy overcoat and standing near to attention at sight of the brass on his lapel, “I remember you. A Colonel now, I see. Well done.”
Rosie felt his cheeks burn, another juvenile thing, her hand extended itself to his surprise and he clasped it warmly, maybe a little too firmly. “Well that’s kind of you, Ma’am. Very kind. Welcome back, Colonel.”
“You’ve said that already.”
“Apologies.” he stumbled, releasing her hand in hopes of regaining his thoughts. She didn’t look angry yet, she looked wary, “Just glad to have you back. There was…a lotta concern.”
“It was touch and go but -here I am.”
“Right.” There was silence after that, it was so thick that the quirk of his kind lips and the gleam of his eager eyes slowly dimmed and fell as no small talk resumed. “Uh, colonel,” he ventured, “due to those aforementioned concerns, uh, I’ve been asked-“
“Aforementioned? What kind of talk is that?”
“Ha, well, lawyerly talk I’m afraid. I need to get a report from you, colonel.”
“For God’s sake man, I just got here, maybe with a shower and a nap and a cup of joe I might have a report for you but- I just got here.”
“Yes.” he refused to wince, he refused to. He was a colonel now, he had to require unpleasant things every day from his friends. Today it was required from a hero. Small difference in a war. “And if it were up to me I’d give you weeks to do all that before asking a thing from you. But I can’t, colonel. They wanted an immediate, preliminary report. It’s -it’s the same as an integration after a mission. Less interaction beforehand, less time to confuse the details- you get my drift.”
“You’re under orders.”
“I am.”
“Why didn’t you say? God’s sake Rosenthal.” she was close to angry now.
“Sorry, ok, Colonel I-“
“Why the whole welcoming committee schtik? Just say what you mean.”
“It’s not a schtick, Ma’am,” he insited, heatedly, “it’s a genuine honor to have you back with us and a relief to see you safe. And yes, I have orders to get a preliminary report.”
“In future you can save us both precious minutes of our lives by being this forthright, please?”
“Understood.”
“Right, well. What’s wanted? What kind of report?” He didn’t fail to notice the sudden and very studied nonchalance that took over her gait, the way she leaned against the railing of her footboard, almost a slouch that made the lean line of her look entirely unperturbed. He wasn’t a good lawyer out of naïveté about such posturing. She was braced like hell for this, probably worse than he was.
“On uh, on your general treatment. Ma’am.” he decided to summarize it thusly.
“Well Colonel,” he had forgotten what a nice voice she had, it wasn’t pretty and it wasn’t gruff, it was simply nice, “if Gale Cleven’s under eyes didn’t tell you the food was meager and hardly nutritious, I’ll go on record to say so. But they did try, I think I can give them that. Looked like everyone was starving by the end.”
“Conduct of your guards?” he had his stupid little leather case open on his forearm and the not quite soggy notepad in it was being dutifully filled with scribbles.
“I’ve little to say against the Luftwaffe, they were honorable for the most part. I think you’ll get that same report from the others. There were a few incidents, but we were enemies. To be expected.”
“Right, uh,” the pencil drug a little “this is a general report so I’ll spare an inquiry into those incidents.”
“Thanks.”
“Of course.”
“Anything else?” Ida tried to smooth her face, she really did.
“Colonel -yes.” she watched him as he deliberated for a moment before seeming to recall her scathing admonition of before, and carried on resolutely in the bluntest manner he could summon, “Regarding your prolonged detention before the stalag. It’s our understanding you were not always under Luftwaffe jurisdiction?”
“That’s correct. Combatant status was not recognized for four and a half weeks.” Ida gave a clipped nod. “We were even briefly detained at a concentration camp.”
“I can’t imagine what you must’ve seen there.”
Ida stared back with some slight emotion flitting over her mask-like face at long last and Rosie felt maybe his own showed it, too, “From what I’ve heard, we may be the only ones to have left alive.” she said at last.
“Your testimony, what you saw there, it could become-“ Rosie drew in breath, “-invaluable.”
“I’d do anything to see justice done, Major.” she agreed, “Sometimes I think I dreamed such mass cruelty. Seems too large to be real, too awful to be abetted for so long by so many.”
“I saw what was left of one of the smaller camps. In Poland.”
“Mm, so you can imagine.” she retorted, but it was a kind retort.
“I don’t see much else when I close my eyes.”
“Mm.”
“Right, back to this uh, report, the question is, how were you treated before civilian status was adhered to?”
“Is this a personal report or a general one?” Ida inquired suddenly.
“The assignment was to ask about your own observations as senior officer of the female contingent of-“
“-then in that case, the treatment was barbaric, Major Rosenthal.” Ida informed him forcefully, “The Luftwaffe used plenty of rough tactics and one officer was particularly cruel to Cleven. I was informed my brother was dying and that my obstinance in denying giving them information was prolonging his torment. All of that I was prepared for, it was one soldier’s attempt to break another. The gestapo, on the other hand, were beasts. And the SS -sadists. They dealt in cruelty for the pleasure of it and my girls went through hell. Once in the stalag there was a reprove. Then the Luftwaffe were relieved of command and it began again- if you expect details, come back with a larger notepad.”
Rosie gave a curt nod of his own in understanding, his brow creased at the implication.
“No one wants to see justice done for them more than I.” Ida went on, “But they’re still out there, and I’m here. And I-I don’t know that those are my stories to tell, Colonel. What I saw is plenty enough to hang a village. And it wasn’t just toward my girls.”
“At…at a later point, you’d be willing then?” he ventured, softly, no longer professional, “To tell me what you saw?”
“Larger notebook, Rosenthal.”
“Yes ma’am.” he knew a dismissal when he heard one, he even felt a brief and heinous relief at the prospect of slipping away on a high note. The dreaded scrapping of the program still undiscussed. “I’ll uh, leave ya to that shower.”
“It’s good to be back, Colonel.” she called to him while he was still maneuvering through a somewhat meandering exit, she called out this concession as if it were meant only in regards to him, “Like what you’ve done with the place.”
Well now that was -that was kind and that was unexpected and Colonel Robert Rosenthal may have let the door hit him on the way out.
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25 notes · View notes
mantisgodsdomain · 5 months
Note
7 vi but instead of food (i get the vibes your vi just straight up doesn't refuse food) crimes or drugs whichever you prefer
(for this ask game)
7. Lots of people don’t have a favorite food drug or crime when put on the spot, but what’s a food or drink drug or crime that your OC would never turn down if someone offered it to them?
...listen the conditions under which our Vi would refuse food are extremely specific but they do exist. Depending on the variant, you might hit that faster or slower, though it varies on the person offering it to her and the circumstances surrounding it. Wereweevil Vi, specifically, will absolutely fucking not refuse food under any circumstances, but she is an outlier and most other Vis actually have a point where they'll say no.
In terms of crimes and drugs... listen, Vi has a sense of self-preservation, and people absolutely don't just hand out drugs either For Free or For No Reason. Getting her to accept doing it is the hard part, if you're not already someone she trusts - what are you, a cop? Gonna tattle on her if she takes your offer? She does, actually, have a fair amount of trust in most of the Underground Tavern regulars, and would probably take up an offer for Illegal Actions if offered, because she trusts they won't try to fuck her over and will probably be willing to back her up if worst comes to worst.
If she's being, like, offered something to try and do, and it's someone she knows, then she has pretty decent assurance that her friends won't deliberately try and kill her, but she might still want to question if it's safe for her species, whether in a "this open job offer might not actually be open to a bug where almost everyone seeing her will immediately assume she's associated with the Bee Kingdom and might report them back to the queen" way or a or "whoever made this drug has never accounted for her species in test runs and there's a solid chance of her experiencing adverse side effects from it" way.
She's not entirely naive - she knows what she's doing, she knows it might be dangerous, and she's only really willing to assume the Tavern bugs have her best interests in mind because of experience. Unless she's being paid for it, she won't take up an offer from just anyone, and she has decent confidence in not getting fucked for taking the offer.
That said... in terms of drugs, the one (1) thing that she might consider getting from Random Unlicenced Sellers She Doesn't Know would be Daydream. Chronic pain reasons, as per usual. If it's getting to autumn and times she Knows that she's gonna run into more Bad Pain Days and her usual dealer's not got enough she might go hunting for another supplier, and in that case - yeah, she'll take random handouts and shady offers, and yeah, she'll probably get fucked over for it. Probably better than lying on the floor unable to do anything due to her body swinging a fire axe into her spinal cord that makes it feel like there's a white-hot rod of metal permanently impaled into her chitin and through half of her vital organs. She might reconsider if it's particularly shady and she's with Team Snakemouth, but being in horrible pain has a way of making you abandon your previous convictions in favor of not having to endure part of your body trying to violently kill you to death by making your entire nervous system fry itself with chronic pain.
With crime if you pay her enough then she'll do basically anything but for profit-free mischief, uhh. Listen if you walk up to her in a bar and say "hey, wanna vandalize something" then she'll probably agree before asking any further questions. Some day this will bite her in the dick but she will probably only learn "plan more when vandalizing things" from it.
#asks#ask games#headcanons#we have one specific fic in which she winds up with one food she absolutely fucking will not eat unless she actively HAS to#as in. “would rather starve for days on the hope of Food That Is Not That than eat it” levels#with the beemerang shes less upset about “it was stolen” and more upset about “it was stolen and shades didnt tell me from who”#but being a bee means she has slightly more leeway on it than. say. a mosquito who shouldnt have been in the hive in the first place#plus depending on how he got it he might just Not Know that it was originally bee tech. equal odds of bee or termite and such#its not necessarily guaranteed and since shes not a part of the hive anymore that chance is SIGNIFICANTLY decreased#and YES shes likely to be in contact with the people that it was stolen from who thus may recognize it and get her in trouble#also necessary context for daydream it is a painkiller that is also occasionally sold as a street drug under the name daydream#known as morpatamine in like. generic medical brand form. though vi might take a few seconds to recognize it under that name#it may be a prescription drug but she has never taken out a prescription in her life and shes not about to start now#it is. VERY strong. produces a “floaty” high. vi takes it for chronic pain reasons because she enjoys not being in pain and is Used To It#we have it as a. semi-consistent vi feature? takes it pre-tsm for pain reasons and then goes cold turkey when she gets hired as an explorer#shes functional under it and could probably actually get More done under it for pain reasons but she still. no longer takes it#this Is Not Good for her. she is in pain that she absolutely does not have to be in for Not Taking Drugs Points awarded by no one.#unfortunately she also thinks that if she tells her teammates about the fact that she has done A Drug and might want to do them again#they will drop her like a hot potato and/or tell her entire family that she is a druggie#because she was still raised in the hive and still retains some of their views on drugs for Herself Specifically#because though obviously her friends are cool & doing a drug is neutral for them it is a sign of deep moral corruption for Vi Specifically#anyways this means that she will go out on a mission while being like an 8-9 on the pain scale and do like. maybe 1 ibuprofen about it#this specific dynamic means that though she trusts kabbu and leif SIGNIFICANTLY more than shades in p much every way#she would never ask one of them to help supervise her use whereas she might ask shades to keep an eye on her#generally this is a bad decision. he will absolutely fuck with her for fun. they both know this wont stop her from asking him again tho#she could probably ask doppel if she didnt want to be told that shes been given forever weed#but doppel has a job to do and she doesnt want to interrupt and plus if he knows shes been Doing A Drug he might be disappointed in her#realistically he already knows and just doesnt care but vis already a bit high strung on it with anyone whose opinion she cares about#we will retag this to put it in the main bf tag in a bit maybe. we are not sure how the fandom proper would respond to this flavor of post#chronic pain hcs tend to be localized to kabbu and undetailed on management. we deal with heavy duty painkillers
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bohemiandeer · 2 months
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You know what hits me hard? When 5 to 6 year old children, all the way in Southeast Asia, knows about what's happening in Palestine right now. That children their age is getting bombed, that they're starving to death, that they're getting shot at, and sniped in the head. Because, just this past 2 or so months, I heard some of the little ones in the Kindergarten classes I'm TAing in as an Intern talk about it. Hell, one of the little boys downright said he didn't like Israel, because Israel is bad, because they do scary things. Another was questioning whether Palestine was bad too, because, "why else would they shooting at them?". A little girl in one of my classes doesn't want to finish her food at all, because she wants to save at least half her meat and rice for kids in Palestine, because she heard that, they don't have food. And that's just the ones I remember. Namely the inciting cases before their classmates slowly follow suit. The littles are fricking SCARED. We had to sit these kids down, and tell them that the topic is too mature for them at the moment, that they shouldn't even be concerned because they're KINDERGARTNERS, they're not even old enough to properly understand. The one teacher I was TAing for had to make a class announcement saying that. What gets me is, these are 5 to 6 year olds, the youngest I've worked with in this specific age group is 4. 5 years old on average, and they've already been exposed to the worst horrors genocide has to offer through the news and snippets of conversation among adults and hell, considering how many of them say they like to play games on Mama's phone, or their IPad, even from fricking social media. And the fact that, these literal babies, from all the way in Cambodia, has more empathy in their entire body and soul, than full grown fricking adults have in the nail of their pinky finger, gets me. FFS we as adults could LEARN from them I feel sometimes. I honestly don't know what to feel about it anymore. On the one hand, this is the next generation I'm working with. And if the next generation's default response to a tragedy such as Palestine, is what I've seen come up on occasion so far? Perhaps there's some bloody hope for this world after all. At least in this country. Especially since a majority of them already come from families who survived a genocide. These are the 3rd - 4th generation descendants of those who survived the Khmer Rouge. They've got grandparents at home, who no doubt are more than intimately familiar with what Palestine is going through right now. And it shows.
But on the other, it makes my heart sink because these are CHILDREN, these are LITTLE KIDS, they should be playing with their toys and watching cartoons and talking to their friends about everything from Spiderman to Speakerman to Kuromi and her friends, and be worried about whether or not they can go to playground that day, guranteed they're well behaved, or if Mama remembered to pack in their costume for swimming lessons that week. NOT JUST MY KIDS. But the little ones in Palestine too. They deserve better. They all deserve, so much better. Hell, it's come to the point that whenever I look at my kiddos right now, whether they'd be working in class, playing, doing something as mundane as eating lunch or getting ready for their nap. I think of the children their age in Palestine that didn't even get the chance to survive. I think of the ones whose memories from this age, is nothing but absolute horror and pain, rather than what has slowly become my normal, who never got to experience what my littles do on a daily basis right now.
Children shouldn't even be concerned about "War", about a Genocide. The last thing that should be on a 5 year old's mind, is pain, and suffering, and the worst horrors imaginable ever to be inflicted on a human being. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT'S INFLICTED, ON OTHER CHILDREN THEIR AGE. And for that alone, the world has failed them. Especially the kids in Palestine who didn't ask for any of this. They just wanted to carry on with life as kids do, the same way as my littles do on a daily basis no doubt, learning, playing, chatting with friends over their favourite cartoons and characters, worrying about whether they'd get to go to the playground or not that day.
I apologize for talking about this on this blog. I know my blog tends to be lighter in feel, a lot more unhinged and light hearted typically. I mean, I'm just a fricking nerd who likes to draw and write, and lurk about her favourite fandoms to consume and support what is shared among other nerds who also like to draw and write. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. About contemplating it, especially since I'll be back on a roll tomorrow, working with my kiddos again after not seeing them for 5 days straight because of Holidays. And, I just had to talk about it. This is something I felt I couldn't keep to myself this time, I don't think my soul'd be able to carry it. I had to talk about it.
FREE PALESTINE. Our children deserve better.
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asahicore · 1 year
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cherry pits - psh (m)
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this work contains smut - minors please do not interact
pairing. dad!sunghoon x fem!reader
synopsis. Your alarmingly empty bank account forces you to find a last-minute summer job so that you can afford a trip with your friends. The extremely handsome customer that comes into the store just happens to be a young single dad who's renovating the old house next to yours. The tension that settles between the two of you as you start helping him fix up his house soon becomes unbearable, but it's all one-sided anyway, right?
(Spoiler: wrong.)
genre. DILF AUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!, neighbors au, s2l, summer au, slight age gap (reader is 21 and hoon 26), reader is so down bad over sunghoon its actually crazy but also extremely relatable cause this is sunghoon we're talking about, fluff and smut, sex gets freakyyy ngl
word count. 12.9k
a/n. hey sisters had no time to write anything this week so i am coming back (everybody boos) with a repost yayyy!!! i actually love this story idkw i just find it fun so i hope you guys will enjoy rereading / reading it !!!! as always let me know ur thoughts.. even if they're just incomprehensible screaming (bad or good).. im happy w anything ok bye!!!
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You’ve always wondered about the ratio of cherry to pit. Such a big pit for so little flesh, isn’t it? Yet that’s never stopped you from biting into the small fruit, eating what you could and spitting out the unwanted part. You actually rather enjoy this whole process. Bite, eat, spit. You could repeat this with huge bowls of cherries at a time until they upset your stomach and you had to stop for your own good.
Bite, eat, spit is exactly what you’re doing when, with a trembling finger, you finally brave to open your banking app and check your balance. It’s the beginning of summer, and after two semesters of intense studying and too-much-coffee drinking, you think you deserve three long months of doing nothing but hanging out in your childhood bedroom and eating the food your parents buy and make. You’re especially looking forward to the vacation in Mexico you have planned with your friends at the end of August.
One look at your bank account and your dreams of white beaches and seas so blue you couldn’t tell them apart from the sky shatter around you, the sad, low numbers on the screen sneering at you mockingly. You were sure you had saved enough money from part-time jobs and generous relatives, but now you regret all of those night-outs and lazy takeaways. If you had cut down on those, maybe you wouldn’t have to go through the hassle of finding a summer job at the last minute, which you would definitely have to do if you wanted to eat something on that dear beach of yours and not just starve to death under the glaring sun.
That was it - tomorrow, you’d go and get a job. Today, however, you’d enjoy your last day of respite and eat some more cherries, or maybe make some jam and a pie so your parents wouldn’t chide you for eating them all, and then go pick some more from the three trees in your backyard. You’d sit outside, enjoying the warmth of the sun while you read or, if you couldn’t be asked, while you listened to the bustle of the old and worn-down house next door being renovated. You’re surprised someone had the courage to buy it and give it a new life, but you assume that’s the kind of courage that comes with having time and money. 
Yesterday night, you’d heard a little girl playing outside until her mom called her in saying it was time to go, so you made up a story of your neighbors being newlyweds that had decided they’d had enough of the city and wanted to raise their daughter in a calmer town far from busy streets and loud honks. You could bring them some cherries, maybe in jam or pie form, as a housewarming gift.
Unfortunately, the day passed and you were too busy doing nothing to actually get around to baking, so you decided to do nothing some more and then go to bed, needing rest before your big job hunt.
You’d gravely overestimated the amount of job opportunities in your small hometown, only receiving apologetic looks from the store owners as they tell you they don’t need any help, or worse, already have someone. Damn those 16-year-olds who only get summer jobs so they can blow their whole pay in a couple weeks before school starts again. You, on the other hand, need that money for important things, like sipping on a cocktail at a bar with a seaview.
The local hardware store next to the train station is your saving grace. It looks quite small from the outside, but once you step inside, rows of lamps and mirrors in all shapes and sizes along with all kinds of household needs welcome you, followed by a section for gardening and pet caretaking. The basement is where all the paints and brushes were, as well as the more technical (technical to you, at least) products, like bolts and tools or kitchen and bathroom appliances.
A lot of people undertake renovations in their homes during their free time in the summer, so it’s important for the store to have their experts helping out customers in their dedicated aisles rather than working behind the till and restocking the shelves, which is what you will be doing for the next two months. The pay is slightly above minimum wage and with twenty-one hours of work a week, you’ll earn more than enough to enjoy your vacation. You start tomorrow.
Your co-workers are happy to welcome a new face into their team. They’re nice even if they have the tendency to drone on about different types of tools and the importance of choosing the right brush for the surface you’re painting, which you don’t particularly care about, but you think you might as well learn as much as you can during your time here; it might always come in handy later.
As you expected, it isn’t the most stimulating job ever, but you aren’t bored out of your mind either. You make small talk with customers as they explain their purchases, some more defensively than others, even if you didn’t ask. You make sure to restock the shelves correctly and sometimes ask for help when you feel your arms giving out after hours of carrying heavy stuff. When no one’s in, you like to rearrange the cute bathroom decorations so that they make a little rainbow of toothbrush and soap holders.
You were daydreaming about what you would do with your friends in Mexico and all the cherries you could eat there when a man so handsome you thought he was a part of your dream walks in. He doesn’t notice (or maybe he just ignores it, you’re not sure) your gawking and smiles at you, saying “hello” before turning his attention to the map which details where everything is stored at the entrance of the shop. You manage a small “h-hello” back that probably doesn’t even reach his ears, and you curse yourself for doing a poor job of greeting a customer just because said customer looks like he’s been pushed from the heavens above onto this unworthy earth by the other angels who were jealous of his beauty. 
You stay put behind the counter the whole time he’s there to avoid the potential embarrassment of running into him in a random aisle and making a fool of yourself. There isn’t much to do anyway, so you rearrange the organic protein bars and chewing-gum at the counter and count all the money in the cash register to distract yourself. He doesn’t spend a very long time browsing and after twenty minutes, you see him approach with a cart full of the biggest cans of paint the store offers. It’s mostly white paint, but there are some browns and grays, and one of pink as well.
You thank God for those twenty minutes because they allowed you to get a hold of yourself so that you didn’t gape at him like a dead fish instead of scanning his articles, which is what you are very professionally and expertly doing. “That’s a lot of paint,” you comment lightheartedly, partly just to prove to yourself that you can also speak in front of this man.
“I know,” he chuckles, and it seems unfair that his voice should be just as attractive as his face. “The previous owners of the house I just bought had terrible taste in wallpaper and wall colors, so I have to repaint basically the whole house. Everything has to go, really. The floors, the furniture, the lights.”
“Sounds like you’re going to have a busy summer. That’ll be $132.76, please.”
“I’ll pay by card,” he says as he brings his wallet out from his back pocket and inserts his card into the reader, which allows you to look freely at his tanned arms and the veins that protrude here and there. He can’t be older than thirty, so there’s probably not that much of an age difference between the two of you, but damn does he look more mature in the sexiest way possible than all of the male college students you’re used to seeing on a daily basis. If anything, he reminds you of the hot young Linguistics professor your whole department likes to drool over. 
The beep of the payment being accepted snaps you out of your daze. “And yeah, it’ll sure be a busy summer. I’ll need a lot of stuff from here, so you might have to get used to seeing me around,” he says with a smile that makes your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this walking Greek god of a man is actually flirting with you, but the glint in his eyes tells you it wasn’t just an off-hand comment.
“I could get used to that,” you surprise yourself by replying confidently, your smile mirroring his as pretty dimples appear on each side of his face.
You hand him the receipt and notice his eyes flickering down to your name tag before trapping yours in his gaze once again. You don’t think you ever want to look away. “I’ll see you around, Y/N,” he says and walks out with his cart and his tons of paint before you can say anything, lest ask his name, except for “see you.”
You take a deep breath in and another out when he’s out of sight, trying to calm your racing heart. You can’t wait to rave to the girls’ group chat about this, but one of your coworkers calls you for help and you have to put the handsome stranger to the back of your mind for a while.
That weekend, your parents ask you to do something about the cherries slowly starting to spoil in the fridge, so you put on your headphones and listen to an audiobook for entertainment, then get to pitting. It feels wrong to listen to The Kiss Quotient and its many smut scenes when your parents are coming and going out of the room, but what they don’t know won’t kill them; you just try to keep your reactions to a minimum during the extra spicy scenes.
Pitting cherries is an arduous task that always takes longer than you think it will, but you never complain about it. You’ve found the perfect technique of cutting them in half around the pit, turning the small fruit without squeezing it, extracting the stone and making sure it doesn’t get confused and end up in the bowl with the pitted cherries, all without tiring your wrists after ten minutes. A surprise pit in a cherry pie can add to the charm of a homemade dessert, but you’d rather not have to spit out five of them while trying to eat one slice.
You prepare a crumbly dough to make two classic American-style pies and fill four jars with cherry jam that you cook while the doughs rest. It’s almost offensive how small the cherries become as they cook, the amount that fills those four jars having filled eight before, but you decide there’s no reason to take it personally since the cherries don’t do it on purpose, and put the jars away to cool down. You roll out the first rested dough and despair for a bit when it keeps on falling apart, but it just makes it more satisfying once you have it perfectly thinly rolled out and covering the tin. The second one is a bit nicer to you and you only have to try rolling it out twice. 
Two hours later, as the sun finally starts to relent and a cooler breeze flows through the air, the pies are all baked, cooled and ready to be eaten. You leave one for you and your parents to enjoy later, then head over to the next house to greet your new neighbors with the other pie. You knock and wait for a good thirty seconds before getting any sort of response, making you think no one’s in.
“Y/N?” a semi-familiar voice calls out, and your head whips in its direction. If this were a cartoon or a 2012 teen show, you’d probably drop the pie tin, but thankfully, your hands aren’t that sweaty, and the shock of the man from the other day at the store being your neighbor isn’t that great, because of course, of course he’s your neighbor. You’re Y/N, after all; the almighty gods above would never let you have a boring, uneventful summer. Of course the hot new man in town is your neighbor.
“Oh! Hi! Guess we’re neighbors. Ha,” you say with a clumsy smile, holding the tin over your forearm as your other hand shields your eyes from the sunlight so you can look at him without squinting your eyes.
“Neighbors?” he repeats as he joins you on the front porch, taking off his gloves dirtied by the mud and using the back of his hand to wipe off some sweat from his forehead. The sweat makes his hair stick to his face and there are small beads of it falling from his hairline down onto his white t-shirt. You detect the slightest of stubbles on his chin and upper lip, probably from not having shaved for just a day or two. He’s even tanner than when you saw him a few days ago, and his thick eyebrows form a straight line as he frowns in what you guess is tiredness and perhaps confusion from seeing you in regular clothes and holding a pie tin on his porch. For a second, you’re scared he might think you’re some kind of stalker, but you nod and tilt your head towards your house. 
“Yep. That one just over there behind you.”
He turns his upper body to take a look at your house and nods slowly as he turns back around, gaze finding yours again like the other day at the store. You have no idea who this man is - hell, you don’t even know his name - but good lord are you attracted to him, especially when he gives you that unreadable smile that shows off his dimples. 
“Huh. What a coincidence,” he says, and that could mean anything in the world, but you hope he means it in a good way. “I’m Sunghoon, by the way.” he adds, extending his hand for you to take, which you do, and the simple action of shaking his hand without eye contact ever breaking is enough to send shivers down your spine. Hopefully, this goes unnoticed by this Sunghoon.
A walking wet dream. That’s what this man is. He’s walked right out of your deepest Wattpad-induced fantasies and into the house next door. Probably doesn’t help that you’d been listening to literary porn just fifteen minutes prior. 
“Is that pie?” he asks as he releases your hand.
“It is, cherry pie I made myself with cherries from our backyard. A housewarming gift, if you will. Here,” you reply, offering him the tin.
He takes it from your hands, the tips of his fingers slightly grazing yours, on purpose or not, you’re not sure. He lifts some of the aluminum covering the pie and peeks underneath, then hums appreciatively. “Thanks, it looks really good. I’ve been living off of ready-meals and casseroles from the neighbors, so this’ll be really nice.”
“Well we’ve got tons of cherries, so feel free to ask whenever you want some,” you offer, and he nods. A small silence settles between the two of you and you’re about to excuse yourself so it doesn’t get awkward when he invites you in, asking if you’d like to have a piece with him.
“If you want to, I mean. I was gonna take a break anyway,” he says somewhat coyly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. You’re surprised to see him being anything else other than confident and self-assured, but it only makes him look cuter in your eyes.
“Sure,” you accept with a smile, letting him lead you inside the house.
“Sorry, it smells like paint all over the house. That’s why I was outside, doing some gardening while I aired the house out,” he explains. “Let me just get some plates and a knife out. And something for us to drink. Do you want to drink something? I’ve got water, or some iced tea or lemonade. The grandma across the street made some for me,” he says all at once, and you suppress a giggle at his sudden nervous behavior.
“Sunghoon?”
“Yeah?” he responds almost immediately, turning to you just as you both reach the kitchen.
“Just water is fine.”
A shy smile makes his dimples appear once again as he nods. “Okay, sounds good.” You help him carry everything to the back porch and set down the glasses and a jug of water on a table with two chairs around it.
“The porches are the only parts I won’t have to fix up too much, for some reason.”
“You’re going to redo the whole house yourself?” you ask, surprised, as you pour two glasses of water and he serves you a slice of cherry pie (“there might be some stray cherry pits, so be careful,” you warn as he sets a slice on his plate).
“A lot of it, yeah, but I’ve also got some people to help out. My dad’s a carpenter so I know my way around these things, but I also know it’s better and faster to have more than one man on the job, so some guys he works with come a couple times a week.”
“Yeah, with the state this house is in, you’d need more than a summer if you did everything yourself,” you comment, and he chuckles, agreeing. “My friends and I used to make stories about how this place is haunted, you know,” you say jokingly.
“Please don’t jinx my house from the get-go,” he says, making you laugh.
“Sorry, sorry. It’ll be nice seeing it all fixed-up, actually.”
“Have you lived here long?” he asks, looking at you thoughtfully as he takes another bite of the pie. “This is really good, by the way.”
“Thanks. And yeah, my whole life. I go away when semester starts but come back for the holidays and the summer.”
“So you're a student?”
“Yeah, just at the state university a few hours away. Not too far away that it’s a hassle traveling back, but not too close that I go home every weekend. What about you, what do you do?”
You wait for his answer while he swallows his mouthful and take another bite yourself. “I teach,” he starts as he dabs the corners of his lips with a napkin. “Fifth graders, on the other side of town. I used to live in a small apartment near the school I work at but it’s nicer, having more space. I saved enough money to buy this house and fix it up, so here I am now,” he says, gesturing to the house and the garden with his arms. 
You notice his use of the first person pronoun when he talks about where he used to live and his house now, which makes you wonder if it’s just him, even though you were sure you heard a woman and a young girl’s voices the other day. Surely, if he wasn’t single, he wouldn’t have invited you in or given you flirtatious looks, right? Or were you reading totally wrong into this and he was just an exceptionally friendly person?
You put these questions to the side and continue chatting with Sunghoon, letting the subject of his marital status come up on its own during your conversation. And indeed, you get your answer when he tells you about the different parts of the house he plans on having, one of them being a bedroom for his daughter.
“Oh, so you have a daughter? How old is she?” you ask as you take a sip of water, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Considering his age, you expect that his child will be one, two years old max, so his answer makes you almost choke on your drink.
“She’s turning eight this summer.”
“Eight?” you repeat as you set your glass down, looking at him wide-eyed. So much for nonchalance. “But you’re so-”
“Young? Yeah, I know,” he interrupts with a knowing smile, probably used to this kind of reaction. “I’m 26,” he adds, then watches as you do the simple math in your head. When you turn to him with a surprised look, he answers your question before you’ve even asked it. “Yep, I had her when I was 18.”
“Wow,” is all you can say. “Can I ask what happened?”
“Sure. I mean, it’s nothing extraordinary or anything. I was in my last year of high school, and I got my girlfriend at the time pregnant. We’d only been dating four months but her parents wouldn’t let her get an abortion. They’re really religious. They took care of our baby, with the help of my parents, while I went to community college and she retook senior year since she had to drop out halfway through the year. No, we’re not together anymore, if you’re wondering,” he says, catching you off guard, as if he’d read your thoughts. 
He chuckles before sighing and continues. “If none of this had happened, we’d probably have broken up before going off to college and proceeded to forget about each other. We started out living with her parents, then got that small apartment I told you about when she found a job. We’re not on bad terms by any means, but we’ve just not been in love since Chaeryeong turned 2, probably. We’ve been more roommates than a couple for the past six years. And you know, we kept on living together for Chaer mainly, but she’s found a new boyfriend and I wanted to have my own place. Which has led me here.”
You nod slowly, letting the whole story sink in. “You’re both handling this situation really maturely, it sounds like. I’ve heard of so many teenage parents fighting all the time and not taking care of their kids properly.”
“She’s already got a weird parental situation, it’s the least we can do for her to behave like adults, you know.”
“Right, of course,” you say, nodding again. Your hot new neighbor was actually a DILF, you realized a bit inappropriately, perhaps. Cherry on top.
He tells you a bit more about his daughter and you keep talking until your dad calls you, asking you why you’re not home at dinner time, and you only notice then how long you’ve been sitting there with Sunghoon, just talking. You tell him you feel bad for taking up so much of his time but he shakes your apologies off.
“It was my pleasure, really. And thanks again for the pie, I think Chaer will love it.”
He walks you to the front door and calls out your name after you’ve waved goodbye and started walking. You didn’t know you had been expecting him to do anything until you heard the hopeful tone in your own voice. “Yeah?”
“You any good with kids?” he asks, leaning against the doorway with crossed arms and a smirk that makes your heart flutter.
Although you’ve only got one older brother, you have younger cousins as well as older ones that have babies of their own, so you’re not a complete stranger to kids, but more importantly, you like them. They have the world to learn, but they say surprisingly smart things and have really cute faces.
“I’d say that I am, yeah,” you reply, a smile growing on your face, mirroring his expression.
“Good,” he says, and pauses a second for good measure. “I’ll see you later.”
“See you later, Sunghoon,” you say as you turn back and head to your house, letting him enjoy the view of you walking away. 
On the short way home, you realize that you completely have the hots for your neighbor, although you probably knew that before. Is it twisted that you like him more now that you know he’s got a kid? Probably a little bit, but you’re not going to fight it. He’s single, after all. And not even thirty. A five-year gap isn’t unheard of. 
Your parents ask you where you’ve been as you set the table and get ready for dinner. “Just over at our new neighbor’s house to give him some pie and say hi,” you say as you toss the salad in its bowl, spreading the dressing evenly. 
“Ooh, the neighbor,” your mother echoes knowingly, wiggling her eyebrows, and steals a leaf of lettuce when it falls from the bowl because of your vigorous tossing. “We should have him over at some point, welcome him into the neighborhood. I’ve seen him a bit, you know. Out painting on his front porch or when he was in his garden the same time as me. He’s a very attractive young man,” she says, lowering her voice so your dad doesn’t hear even though he’s outside grilling the meat. “Do you know how old he is? Looks a bit young for a homeowner to me, but who knows what young people are up to these days.
“He’s twenty-six, and he’s saved a lot of money. Plus, I don’t think that house was very expensive. From what he’s told me, the renovations will basically cost as much as the house itself. He’s also got a kid.”
“Aw, must be a cute baby,” she says as your father walks in, carrying a tray of steaming barbecued steaks and potatoes.
“She’s eight,” you say bluntly, causing them both to look at you with wide eyes.
“Oh, right, then. Happens,” your mother says, bringing her glass of water to her lips and taking a sip from it. “Is he still with the mother?”
“They broke up a while ago, but they’re on good terms,” you say, and your mom nods slowly at the information.
“So, he’s single, huh?” she says, trying to hide her smile, earning herself a groan from your dad and a chuckle from you. 
“C’mon, mom!”
“What? You can’t deny that he’s attractive, and he’s single. Plus, you two must get along well if you spent a couple hours talking. Sure, he’s got a kid, but you love those, don’t you?”
“Mom, you of all people would know kids aren’t pets. Dating someone with an eight-year-old isn’t the same as dating someone with a cat.
“No one’s asking you to be that girl’s mom,” she says, dishing out some meat for the three of you. “I’d go get that man, if I were you.”
Your dad shakes his head and you eat your food as you listen to them bickering with a smile. You think about what your mother said - should you go and get Sunghoon? Your heart says yes, but your brain is a bit more reluctant. Another part of your body, lower down there, is screaming ‘yes’ at you.
He does live right by, after all.
That night, you FaceTime your roommate and best friend from college and bring her up to date about ‘the hot man from the store the other day.’ She paints her toenails but listens intently as she always does when you talk about boys, humming and chuckling here and there.
“God, Y/N, I didn’t know you had daddy issues, of all things.”
You gasp fake-dramatically. “Excuse me, I do not! I was attracted to him before I knew he was a dad, I’ll let you know.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let me know when you guys actually hook up, I’m curious whether older men are actually better,” she says, making you scoff.
“I hope he is. I’m very much tired of those boys that don’t know where the clit is and use too much tongue.”
“You know, when I complain to my mom about guys, she always tells me to wait it out a few years. She says they get more mature and, well, she didn’t say that outright, but she very heavily implied that the sex is much, much better. Kinda gross hearing it from her, but it’s good information.”
You hum. “Well, he’s not that much older… But let’s hope that it still makes a difference,” you say, and then move on to another topic. 
One thing that eating cherries has taught you is that if you want to enjoy eating the sweet flesh, you’ll need to deal with the pit as well. Ever the grand philosopher, you realized soon enough that this was applicable to real life and not just your favorite fruit. Wanna get a good grade on your test? Gotta study for it. Wanna go on holiday to Mexico? Gotta find a summer job and earn money.
Wanna make your way to Sunghoon’s bed? Gotta seduce him.
Over the following days, you stand behind the counter at the hardware store, elbow perched on the hard surface, head resting on your palm and vision fuzzy as you daydream about your next encounter with Sunghoon. More often than not, a customer will clear their throat to awkwardly let you know of their presence and you’ll have to exchange your imagined dialogue with Sunghoon for a quick apology and some pleasantries; more often than not, a coworker will call out your name for some help just as you get to the juicy part of your reverie. In those moments, you always feel like you’ve been caught red-handed watching softcore porn, even if no one knows the last thing about what goes on in your head, nor do they care. 
Much like the first time he walked into the store, when he does again on a Thursday morning, you think your daydreams have just gone too far and you’re now hallucinating. But, lo and behold, this is the true Park Sunghoon in the flesh, and he smiles and waves at you as he strides in before disappearing behind one of the many aisles.
You spend the next fifteen minutes going over witty conversation starters that will surely make him fall for you, only for you to stutter out a “h-hi, Sunghoon,” when he finally reaches the counter.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he jokes, and you laugh a bit too hard for a comment that isn’t that funny.
“How are the renovations going?” you ask as you scan his articles - some more paint and brushes, lots of tile glue, a bunch of nails and two different sizes of turnscrews. He frowns in concentration at the snacks next to the counter until he caves in and gets a chocolate protein bar that’s more sugar than protein. 
“Pretty okay,” he starts. “I’m in a bit of a rush, cause Chaer is already coming in two weeks and I need to have finished at least the interior by that time. My dad’s friends helped me get the roof done, so that’s good, but now they’re all busy with other sites so it's just me. Right now I’m redoing the tiles in the bathrooms. You need so much damn glue,” he says with a chuckle.
You think for a second, then timidly offer, “I could help out, you know. If you needed me to.” 
He looks at you with raised eyebrows, halfway through getting his card out of his wallet. “Really?”
“I mean, I don’t have much experience with this kinda stuff, but I’ve picked up a few things here and there from working here. If it saves you time, I could do the easy things. This job isn’t particularly physically demanding so I’ve still got energy at the end of the day. That’s $78.96, please.”
A small smile appears on his face as he inserts his card into the reader. He punches in his code and then returns your gaze. “That could be nice, actually.”
And that’s how you find yourself over at Sunghoon’s house in denim shorts and your dad’s old t-shirts almost everyday for the next two weeks, helping him fix up the old two-storey home. He measures out the perfect length for wood planks or marble tiles that you assist him in fastening to the floors of different rooms and he fixes holes in walls that you paint over afterwards. Sometimes on your breaks, you share a bowl of cherries that you brought from your garden. (One morning, you tried to make cherry juice out of them, but when after almost two hours of pitting the liquid barely filled a glass, you decided that it was too much effort and that you’d keep on just eating them and baking the occasional pie.) You asked him to tell you what each of the rooms upstairs would be and you realized that the window of his room faced yours directly. The blinds were down as they had always been, so you hadn’t known what the room would be.
“I’ve been sleeping on the couch since I haven’t gotten around to fixing up this room yet. Guess I should get to it, though,” he says, giving you a look that blurs the meaning of his words so that you’re not sure what he’s implying, which happens a bit too often with Sunghoon.
And you’d think that spending the better part of two weeks with the current man of your dreams would be amazing, right? 
Wrong. It’s unbearable.
Maybe that’s exaggerating it - it’s mostly fun, and sometimes unbearable. Usually, you’re an avid fan of sexual tension, especially with attractive men like Sunghoon. Lingering gazes, eye contacts when there shouldn’t be any, remarks with a deeper meaning that they let on, barely-there touches on the back of your hand or on your waist that manage to take your breath away. These are all very fine things that keep your heart bouncing and a blush on your cheeks, but they are supposed to amount to something more in the end. Maybe you’re impatient, but after two weeks of sending sex through your eyes to Sunghoon, you get the feeling that he doesn’t reciprocate your desire. One afternoon, you’d made sure to go and sunbathe in your bikini at the exact moment he was doing some work outside, and even then, he merely gave your body a one-over and disappeared a few minutes later inside his house. When he came back about ten minutes later, he could still barely look at you.
At the same time, there’s no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he stands close behind you, letting you feel the warmth of his chest against your back, big, rough hands enveloping yours as he demonstrates how to cut a plank of wood with the machine. There’s no way the way he smirks when the action turns you into a stammering mess is innocent, either.
Yet nothing happens. The tension is thick enough to be cut with a knife, but maybe Sunghoon hasn’t bought cutlery yet. The air is already heavy from the heat and the relentlessness of the sun, but this thing between you and him makes it almost suffocating, in somehow the best yet worst way possible. You’re this close to simply throwing your naked body at him, and it doesn’t help that you see his flexing, working muscles and beads of sweat on his hairline everyday. On the days he wears shorts, which is most days, all you can think of is getting off on his thick thighs, of his hands holding you tightly by the waist, of the way he’d look at you, eyes clouded over, of the words he’d whisper in your-
Your phone buzzes, interrupting you in your horny downward spiral. It’s your dear mother telling you to come home for dinner. As you pick up your phone, a second buzz. Ask Sunghoon if he wants to eat with us. 
You find him in his bedroom, adding the last touches to the walls. “I think I’ll be able to sleep here starting tomorrow night. I just need to go buy a bed,” he says when he sees your figure standing in the doorway.
“We can go together if you want,” you blurt before you can stop yourself. Hoping it’ll make you seem less weird, you add, “I’ve got really good taste in furniture.”
“Is that so?” he questions, turning to you with a smile. “I’d appreciate the second pair of eyes, actually. There’s a lot of things I need to get.”
“Yeah, I didn’t wanna comment on it, but I think you’ll end up needing more than a couch, a plastic dining table and two chairs,” you tease, making him roll his eyes lightheartedly. “We can go to that huge second-hand store they have just outside of town. You’ll be surprised how good - and cheap - the furniture is there.”
“Sounds good,” he nods, and checks his watch. “Are you going home?”
“I am. My mom’s invited you over for dinner, if you’d like,” you say, tilting your head at him.
He raises his eyebrows in delighted surprise. “I’d love to. Just need to shower first.”
“That’s fine. I’ll go home, just come over whenever you’re ready.” You exchange quick see you laters and you head home, taking a shower yourself and making sure to use your best-smelling body lotion.
Sunghoon arrives half an hour later with a bouquet of roses in his hands and an award-winning smile on his face. You let him in and he greets your parents, offering your mother the bouquet. “Sorry I took so much time getting here, I wanted to pick these out as a thank you.”
You can tell your mother is pleased to the heavens as she waves him off, leading him inside your house. “That’s awfully nice of you, Mr Park-”
“Call me Sunghoon, please,” he says with a warm smile.
“Right, Sunghoon. And no worries, you’re just on time. Please, sit.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Oh, no, you’re working all day fixing up that house, just sit and relax. We’re very happy to have you over, aren’t we?” your mother says, sending a very obvious smile your way, which makes you furrow your eyebrows and shake your head lightly at her, silently telling her to shut up. Sunghoon chuckles at the exchange but says nothing and you want to bury yourself and your mother ten feet underground.
Sunghoon sits across from you at the dinner table, which allows you to stare unabashedly at him as he works his charm on your parents. He’s the neighbor, so technically, he’s not a boyfriend you brought home to meet them, but still, you can’t help but compare him to those few boys that you did bring home. None of them were a disaster, but none of them went as smoothly as this, either. There were always some awkward silences and dry chuckles with your past boyfriends, but Sunghoon clearly knows how to make parents happy. Maybe because he lived with his ex’s parents for so long, or maybe because he’s a parent himself. Either way, it only adds to your desire to take all of his clothes and let him rail you into next week. Too bad he clearly doesn’t feel the same way, you remind yourself with an audible sigh, which makes him look curiously at you, but you brush it off with a smile.
You watch as he accepts a beer, compliments the food and the house, talks football with your dad, accepts another beer, and shares teaching anecdotes with your mom, who herself is an elementary school teacher. You jump in every now and then when you have something witty to add or someone asks your opinion on something, but most of the time, you sit back and enjoy, happy that everything is going well. 
You bring out your infamous cherry pie that you’d baked the previous day along with some vanilla ice cream for dessert, and smile when Sunghoon tells you how much he’d been waiting to have some of it again, trying not to blush as his gaze stays focused on yours for a second too long. Thankfully, your parents don’t notice, too busy cutting themselves a slice. 
He stays for another hour or so, until the sun has set and the streetlamps and the moonlight are the only things keeping the world visible. Your mom forces him to accept tupperwares full of leftovers from the night and makes him promise to come back with his daughter. Sneakily, she tells you to help him carry the tupperwares home even though he’s more than able to do it himself, then hugs him goodbye, hurrying you out of the door.
Sunghoon hasn’t yet changed the lightbulbs to more efficient ones, so his kitchen bathes in the faint glow of the overhead lighting as you put away the leftovers in his fridge. He stands a bit to your right close behind you, closer than needed to simply hand you the tupperwares he was holding. When everything is stored, you turn around, but you’re trapped between his body and his arm that holds the fridge door open. With his free hand, he takes you by the waist and pulls you gently towards him. “Careful,” he says so quietly, it’s almost a whisper, and closes the fridge door behind you. 
He’s never been this forward with you, and even though you’ve fantasized many times about this exact moment, now that it’s really happening, you don’t know what to do except to search for an explanation in his eyes. His eyes that are looking right into yours and are a bit clouded over, from the alcohol or the proximity between the two of you or both, you don’t know, but that also have the twinkle of a smile in them. 
His lips are close enough to kiss, you think, and as if on cue, his gaze drifts down to your slightly parted lips. “You’re very pretty, Y/N,” he says, before sealing your lips with his own. You respond immediately to his kiss - you’ve thought too much about it to stand there and do nothing - but it’s all so slow and so soft that you’re not sure if it’s actually happening, so dreamlike it all feels.
You’re called back to reality when his other hand finds your waist, your own hands coming up to his shoulders before one of them snakes its way to the nape of his neck, tugging lightly at his hair. This seems to change something in Sunghoon, who all of a sudden tightens his hold on your waist, his arms wrapping around it to bring you closer to him. His kiss gets faster and deeper too, and, to your surprise but not your distaste, a bit desperate. You’re happy if you have on him half of the power he has on you. You taste sweet vanilla ice cream and tangy beer on his tongue, and it’s not at all unpleasant. It makes you want to eat cherries together so you can then taste them in his kiss. 
A lustful sigh escapes your lips and then the warmth disappears all at once. Sunghoon looks at you like you just woke him up from a deep slumber and takes a step back away from you. You call out for him worriedly and the sound of his name seems to make him think he did something terribly wrong.
“I-I’m sorry, Y/N, I don’t know what came over me. We shouldn’t do this, it’s not- I shouldn’t have done that,” he sighs, looking defeatedly at the ground.
“Why?” you ask quietly, almost inaudible.
“You should go home,” he snaps, then closes his eyes as if in pain, cringing at his harsh tone. “I’m sorry. I think you should go home, it’s getting late,” he repeats, softer this time, but the words still sting.
“O-okay,” you say to the floor, already feeling tears well up in your eyes. You feel like you just got rejected by your high school crush, and the humiliation makes you want to crawl into a hole and die. 
Sunghoon sighs again. “I’ll let you know tomorrow about the furniture shopping, yeah? Chaeryeong is coming in the morning so we can go with her.”
“O-okay,” you repeat, surprised he still wants to do that with you. “Good night, Sunghoon,” you say without looking at him and scurry out of his house.
“Good night, Y/N,” Sunghoon answers to the emptiness after you’ve left, touching his lips with the tips of his fingers and feeling the ghost of your kiss there.
Truth be told, you haven’t always loved cherries. Because of a heinous lie your older brother had made you believe when you were just six years old, you hadn’t eaten cherries for two summers in a row. It was the summer your parents had finally allowed you to eat cherries as they came from the trees in your backyard - beforehand, they’d been too scared that you’d choke on the pit or swallow it unknowingly, and had always prepared purées or other forms that cherries can take for you to eat, so to be finally handed the small fruit and told “go ahead, try it,” felt like an honor. 
A simple “don’t forget to spit out the pit” from your mother had sufficed for you to be careful, and yet, your brother had thought a fear tactic would be more effective. “If you swallow it, a tree will grow inside your belly and make you puke out cherries,” he’d lied when it was just the two of you at the outdoor table. 
“Really?” you asked him in disbelief, horror written all over your face as you looked at the seemingly harmless yet deadly fruit in your hand. You’d already eaten two and were in the middle of eating a third; your brother nodding ‘yes’ in response was all it took for you to spit out the cherry furiously and immediately start sobbing, afraid you’d swallowed one even though all three pits were right there on the table, a guarantee that no unwanted flora would grow inside of you. 
Your mother rushed outside at the sound of your wailing and quickly put two and two together when she saw your brother laughing uncontrollably while you hid your face in your hands, desolately imagining your future as a walking cherry tree. She held you tight in her arms as she told your brother off and reassured you that he was just playing a stupid prank on you. Still, the simple thought of swallowing a pit had terrified you and you were unable to eat cherries for the remainder of the summer and the one after that.
This is the story you tell Chaeryeong and her dad as the three of you sit outside together, making them laugh - although, a few minutes later, when Sunghoon is gone to the bathroom away, Chaer leans over the table and whispers, “It’s not true, is it?” so you reassure her that you’ve eaten cherries your whole life and have never had one single root take life in your tummy. 
It’s been a bit over a week after you shared that kiss in his kitchen, and the awkward atmosphere is just starting to fade. You’re glad he didn’t ignore you after that night, even if pretending nothing happened when both of you are very aware that something did happen is only the slightly better alternative. It’s a refreshing change from boys that sleep with you and then act like you don’t exist, for sure.
The kiss hasn’t done anything to burst the tension; if anything, it’s made it even more electric. You catch him looking at your lips more than once and you wonder why he still acts the same way as before when he’s made it very clear he didn’t think kissing you was a good idea. Catching him shirtless one night in his bedroom doesn’t help, and neither does him catching you staring at him - you’d quickly shut the curtains, but it was too late, and he’d seen you ogling his toned chest and abs.
At least, the fact that Chaeryeong is here forces a bubbly atmosphere upon you, and you hope you’re not crazy when you notice him fondly looking at the both of you interacting. Chaer is an outgoing little girl and seems to have liked you as soon as you complimented the toy puppy in her hand, saying you used to have the same and it was your favorite.
The day you went food shopping was practically hell to get through. One evening, you were holding onto Sunghoon for dear life, finally kissing him, and the next afternoon, you were browsing through the endless aisles of your local IKEA, holding his daughter’s hand and pretending like you hadn’t kissed her daddy.
When it got to the bedroom part of the store, you and Chaer decided to try all the mattresses and find the most comfortable one. You usually were never one for seating and laying on random beds in stores, but there was a kid with you, so you were sure it’d be fine. When you found the one you liked most, you looked up at Sunghoon from your position and said, “This one’s pretty good, Sunghoon.” His immediately reddening cheeks told you everything you needed to know and you quickly sat up, clearing your throat. He tested the mattress by pushing his palm against it and muttered a “yeah, it’s pretty good” before scribbling down the number of the mattress onto the small sheet of paper customers use to remember which products they wanted.
Of course, now that Chaer is with him and most of the work in the house is done, save for some minor things that Sunghoon can finish up on his own, you spend a lot less time together. You hate that you miss him so much. You miss the way he makes you feel, like your whole body is on fire with just one look or one touch, the way his stupid jokes make you laugh or how endeared he looks when he talks about his daughter. Seeing him with her only adds to your stupid crush - he’s doting, protective and caring, makes sure she has everything to be happy and manages to treat her at once like the kid that she is but also like a human that has opinions and feelings. He’s a really good dad, and that does nothing whatsoever to stop your DILF fantasies, although now, it’s really Sunghoon that you want, and the fact that he’s a dad isn’t a dealbreaker, it just makes him that much better.
You hate that you miss him, and yet being with him is somehow worse, because you can’t do any of the things you want to do. You fall asleep one two many nights dreaming about his lips and how nice it’d be to feel them again - on your lips, on your neck, everywhere. You want to feel him everywhere, and this longing lust is starting to drive you crazy. You’d never wanted anyone this much.
He invites you over for dinner one night, and the look he gives you when he opens the door sends a shiver right down your spine. “Hi, Y/N.” 
“Hi, Sunghoon.”
He leads you into the kitchen with a hand on your waist, even though you’ve been in his house many times before and need no assistance getting there. A small, horny voice at the back of your head tells you that tonight may be the night, but you quickly shut it down, not wanting to get your hopes up all on your own.
Sunghoon serves you a glass of red wine, and you ask him what the occasion is. “Just to celebrate the house being almost done,” he answers with a smile.
Dinner would have gone as usual if Sunghoon wasn’t practically staring you down the whole time, eyes full of something you can’t quite put your finger on and that drives you crazy. His gaze lingers on you every time you speak, and he punctuates the syllables of your name like he’s trying to get a feel for them on his tongue.
Your heart is pounding in your chest when the clock strikes nine p.m. and it’s time for Chaeryeong to go to bed - you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle being alone with Sunghoon, and you might have to make a run for it, Cinderella-style. 
Chaer goes to the bathroom to wash up and change into her pajamas, and when she comes back, she asks - no, demands - that you’re the one who tucks her in, and who are you to say no to the cutest little girl on Earth? She holds you by the pinky as she drags you up the stairs to her room then buries herself in her covers, tapping on the bed next to her body for you to sit there. “Okay, now we can talk without Dad around,” she says all business-like.
She tells you about the boys at her school and the birthday party she went to last week and the latest drama with her friends. The both of you are too busy chatting and giggling to hear footsteps coming up the stairs and stopping at her door, hiding behind the wall. After ten minutes, she yawns loudly and says, “Can you call Dad? I think he’ll be sad if he doesn’t wish me good night.”
“Of course,” you reply and kiss her on the forehead, wishing her a good night yourself. You’re only half-surprised to find Sunghoon at the doorway, waiting for his cue.
“Wait up for me, yeah? I’ll just be a minute,” he says, that smile still on his lips, that smile that keeps you hoping.
“Okay,” you whisper, and head downstairs, nervously taking a sip from your wine glass as you wait for him on the living room couch.
He is indeed back in a very short time, too short a time for your nerves to settle, so when he sits down close to you on the couch, body turned towards yours, you can feel your heart in your throat. He traces the rim of his glass with the tip of his pointer finger and you both watch the slow movement for a bit, a heavy silence hanging over both of your heads. You wait for him to talk because you’re too scared of what you might say if you start the conversation.
“Y/N, I’ve been thinking,” he starts shakily, “about um, our kiss, the other day-”
“Oh, we don’t need to talk about that,” you quickly interrupt, waving your hand in dismissal at him. “You made it clear you didn’t like it-”
“No, that’s the thing-”
“And that you thought it was a bad idea-”
“No, just listen-”
“So let’s just forget about it, and-”
“Y/N,” Sunghoon says in a stern voice, raising his tone just enough to make you stop in your rambling.
“Yeah?” you look up at him, eyes wide open. Expecting, as always.
“I haven’t once stopped thinking about that kiss,” he says, sounding out-of-breath. “I handled it awfully, and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t like it, because, God, I liked it. A lot,” he chuckles. “Maybe even too much.”
There they are, the words you’ve been dying to hear. Yet all you can say is a stupid “Oh.”
“I just… I was tipsy, and Chaeryeong was coming the next morning, and I panicked. I didn’t know what to do for the rest of the week, and you didn’t say anything, so I didn’t, either. But I can’t pretend like it isn’t there.”
“Like what isn’t there?” you echo, voice almost low as a whisper.
“You know… this,” he replies, voice as low as yours. Slowly, one of his hands comes up to trace your jawline. You release a shaky breath as you set your wine glass on the coffee table and rest your hand on his knee.
“Are you sure about this? ‘Cause if you tell me that you want me… then I’ll be all yours, Sunghoon,” you murmur, hands slowly sliding up his thigh. He takes you by the wrist and puts your hand right on top of his already growing erection, letting you know exactly how he feels about you.
“God, can’t you see what you do to me? I want you so bad, Y/N,” he almost growls, and with that, his lips are on yours, trapping you into a kiss far hungrier and more ferocious than the previous kiss, your mutual intentions finally laid out in front of you for you both to see.
Sunghoon wastes no time as he grabs you by the waist and brings you to his lap, sitting you on top of his crotch so that you can feel his hardening cock against your core. The kiss turns desperate in mere seconds, and you’re relieved to see that Sunghoon seems to have been waiting for this as long and with as much ardor as you have. Your hands are fisting his hair, tugging almost harshly, while his hands roam the expanse of your back until they settle on your ass, grabbing at it to press you closer to him. You can’t stop yourself from moaning into his mouth when his erection rubs over your core in just the right way, and he takes that opportunity to add tongue to the kiss, deepening it.
You start to grind yourself against him, which he helps you do by slightly rutting his hips into yours and bringing your ass closer at every movement. Quickly, you fall into a rhythm so perfect and that feels so good, you think you might explode right then and there. Forget riding his thigh, this is infinitely better.
Needing to catch your breath, you pull away from the kiss, but your lips find his jaw immediately and you start pressing wet, needy kisses there and down his neck, sucking in some spots so that light bruises appear. “Fuck, Y/N, that feels so nice,” he breathes, eyes shut closed. His scent drives you crazy, and his small praise makes you double down on your actions, almost biting the soft skin of his neck.
As you continue kissing him there, occasionally returning to his lips for more, his hands roam your thighs and then up your back, snaking themselves under your t-shirt and finding the clasp of your bra, quickly doing away with it. He pulls away just so he can help you out of your top and takes your bra off of you, hands caressing your sides as he admires your half-naked body in all its glory. You take his hands and bring them to your chest, resting your hands on top of his as you continue grinding onto him and let him play with your boobs. “You’re so fucking hot,” he practically moans, making you chuckle. You reach for the hem of his t-shirt, because it’s only fair that you get to see him too, and you bite back a moan when he uses the absence of your hands on his to pinch your nipples lightly, then takes one in his mouth, catching you off-guard. You forget all about your plan of undressing him as his tongue flicks at the perked bud, your hands finding his hair again as you moan unabashedly. 
“S-Sunghoon,” you breathe, the combined feelings of his now fully hard cock pressing against your clothed but soaking cunt and of his warm mouth around your nipples really getting to your head and making you see stars, so that all you can say is his name. “Please,” you beg, you’re not sure what for. Mercy, perhaps. Or release.
“Please what, baby?” he asks, and the nickname goes straight to your core.
“I don’t- just, please, Sunghoon, please,” you say incoherently, making him chuckle.
“Okay,” he says as if he can read your mind, and you think he actually does when he lays you down on the couch, fingers finding the zipper of your shorts. He unbuttons them and slides them down your legs along with your soaked panties. He makes sure they’re fully off of your body before running his palms up both of your legs, from your ankles to your hips.
“Don’t tease, please,” you plead, too desperate for him to take his time.
“As you wish, princess,” he smirks, and brings a finger to your folds, sliding it down to gather some slick before pushing it inside your hole. Your back arches as an instant response to his touch and you let out a small whine, already craving for more. “Fuck, so wet, and all for me, yeah?” he questions, his eyes not once leaving your glistening pussy.
“Yes,” you breathe out, mind too fuzzy to produce a longer sentence.
“That’s a good girl,” he coos, and adds another finger, pushing all three of his knuckles in and massaging your sweet spot as soon as he finds it. When he’s found a rhythm for his motions, he finally looks up at you and curses himself for not having watched your face earlier. Head tilted back in pleasure, mouth agape as your breathing gets more and more irregular and eyebrows scrunched together, you look like the definition of sex, and it takes everything in Sunghoon to not start touching himself.
He forces himself to look away from you only to focus back on your pussy and notices your swollen clit that is begging for attention. He licks it tentatively, and when your back arches at the feeling of his tongue on you, he dives in completely, licking a stripe up your folds before wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking at it like he did with your nipples earlier. The pace at which his fingers are pumping out of you quickens and you’re pulling so hard at his hair, you think you might rip some strands off. You feel yourself getting close, and you’re reminded of all those frustrating encounters with college boys where they stopped right before you came, so you can’t stop yourself as you desperately chant “oh my God please don’t stop please don’t stop,” not even noticing the way you’re holding his head down against your clit and bucking your hips into his face.
Your orgasm hits you like a truck - this is probably the first one you’ve received from someone other than your own hand or your vibrator in the past year and a half. It takes your breath away, and you’re left gasping for air for a good thirty seconds, your mind reeling from the intensity of such pleasure. When you calm down, you lift your head to look at Sunghoon who’s already watching you with a grin on his face, your slick coating his chin and mouth.
You plop your head back down with a groan when realization hits you. “I’m sor-”
“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Sunghoon commands, hands rubbing your still-trembling thighs. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he marvels, and you can’t help but giggle.
“Really?”
“Really.”
After another couple of seconds, you sit up on the couch and send Sunghoon a mischievous look. My turn, you think, and if his smile is any indicator then he seems to have understood. “Let me thank you,” you say, gesturing at him to sit up himself as you lower yourself to your knees on the couch in front of him.
You look up at him from between his thighs then unclasp his belt and undo his jeans. He lets out a shaky breath and says, “You don’t need to do this, you know-”
“Don’t be a gentleman, Sunghoon. I want to do this and I know you want it too. It’s pretty obvious,” you tease as you run your hand over his erection, watching in delight as his eyebrows furrow and his eyes close. “Now help me get these off of you.” He nods and raises his hips so you can take his jeans and underwear off, imitating his actions from before as you take your time to get them over his ankles and caressing his legs until they reach his crotch, watching as he takes his t-shirt off as well so that you can finally see him entirely. You’d caught glimpse of him shirtless before as he worked in his garden, but the sight still manages to take your breath away. Taut muscles and sun-tanned skin, laid bare right before you. This is what they mean by sculpted like a Greek god, you think.
You haven’t done anything, yet his head is already laid back against the top of the couch, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he gulps in expectation and chest rising visibly at every intake of breath. You must’ve saved a thousand souls in your previous life to be deserving of such an image.
You spit in your palm before taking him, starting out by slowly moving your hand up and down his shaft, then rubbing small circles against his tip, the small moan-like sighs that leave his lips letting you know you’re doing a good job. You gather some saliva in your mouth and spit on his length to add some lubricant and smirk when he lets out a low fuck. You bring your head closer and lick his balls, taking one at a time in your mouth and sucking very gently, making the volume of his moans increase. “Just like- fuck, just like that, Y/N.”
You then lick a long stripe up his cock and swirl your tongue around his tip when you reach it, humming at the taste of precum there. Sunghoon gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail so it doesn’t get in your way, and finally looks down at you, blown away by the beautiful sight of your flushed cheeks and your mouth around his cock. He groans when you take him deeper and unconsciously bucks his hips into your throat, making you gag around him. He loves that feeling but doesn’t want to hurt you so he grabs your face and makes you look up at him, lust and worry written all over his face as he apologizes, but you quickly stop him. “It’s okay, I like it. You can do it again,” you say, and smile before wrapping your lips around him once more.
“Fuck, are you sure?” he asks and you hum, sending vibrations all over his body.
“God, o-okay,” he says, in disbelief that you’re okay with him practically fucking your throat and even liking it. And you do like it - you love letting him use your mouth to get off, just like you had earlier with him. He must have amazing core strength because he’s able to buck his hips into your mouth rapidly as he holds your head tight in his hands. The way you keep coming back for more every time he lets you breathe is enough to drive him crazy, but after a couple minutes, he stops you from taking him in your mouth again.
“I can’t- I don’t wanna cum like this,” he breathes, looking just as fucked-out as you do.
“Where, then?” you ask, kissing him all over his thighs as he trails his fingers through your hair. “Inside?”
He groans at the offer but shakes his head, eyes shut as if trying to calm himself down. “I haven’t got any condoms.”
“I’m on the pill,” you tell him, still pressing kisses on his warm skin. You’re far too desperate to feel him inside you to let a lack of condom stop you, especially when you don’t even need one.
He lets out an umpteenth shaky breath and makes you look up at him. “Are you sure?”
“Sunghoon,” you say, looking him dead in the eyes, “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” You’re relieved when he smiles and nods, bending down to trap your lips in a heated kiss for good measure. Something about being in this position, kneeling in front of his spread thighs and having to look up at him, turns you on even more.
“Okay, then,” he says, still smiling as he pulls away, holding you gently by the chin. “I don’t think I’ll be able to last long, and I want to feel you cum around me. So, tell me, what’s your favorite position, princess?”
The question takes you aback but you answer it anyway, looking at the ground. “Reverse cowgirl…” you admit shyly, a small smile spreading on your lips.
“Reverse cowgirl, huh?” Sunghoon repeats, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s smirking. “Come here, then,” he says, and helps you up, making you turn around so your back faces him and seats you down on top of him, keeping your hips raised. He takes his cock inside his hands, pumps it a few more times before guiding it to your entrance, pressing kisses to your shoulders and nape to make you relax. 
You moan at the simple feeling of his tip teasing your entrance and Sunghoon whispers “I know, baby” against your skin. “Sit down for me,” he commands gently, and you oblige, lowering your hips slowly to feel all of him stretching you out, the both of you moaning in synchronization when he bottoms out.
Sunghoon wraps an arm around your middle and pulls you onto him so that your back rests against his chest and you can let your head hang back next to his. “Let me do all the work, yeah?” he murmurs into your ear, and you hum in response. He doesn’t move for a bit, roaming his large hands all over your body until he feels your walls relax around him. One of his hands finds your breasts, playing with each nipple in turn, while the other finds your clit. It’s all so much but so good that you’re already a moaning mess before he’s even started moving. “Ready?” he asks, but you’re too far gone to answer.
His pace starts out slow, but you’re impatient and whine as you try to move your hips against his to go faster, which makes him tut. “I told you I’d do the work, didn’t I?” he asks, pinching one of your nipples in reprimand. “So be good for me and stay still, Y/N. I promise I’ll make you feel good.” You whine again but stop moving, heeding his words.
“Perfect,” he whispers and kisses your neck before picking up the pace, shushing you when your moans get too loud.
“I’m sorry, just feels too good,” you manage to let out.
“I know, but you need to stay quiet, baby,” he says, yet gets rougher with his thrusts, which does not help in the slightest. His hand that was on your breasts comes up to cover your mouth, but he quickly decides to make you suck on two of his fingers instead, muffling your moans a bit.
His fingers on your clit haven’t relented this whole time and after just a few minutes, you feel that familiar knot tying itself again in your stomach and you know you’re mere moments away from it coming undone. Judging by his rapid but clumsy thrusts, Sunghoon must be close too. He pounds into you like you’ve been wanting him to ever since you first set eyes on him as he entered the hardware store, hitting your g-spot over and over again. Tears roll down your cheeks and you whimper around his fingers, biting down on them as your second orgasm hits you.
You’re practically sobbing as he helps you ride out your high, his movements sending your body into pleasant overstimulation until he reaches his high too, the feeling of your pussy clenching tightly around him pushing him over the edge. Ropes of his semen paint your walls white, and there’s enough of it for him to become a father of two. You whine as he pulls away, and feel his cum slipping out of you and onto the couch underneath you. Before you can catch your breath, he asks, “Baby, can I do something very dirty?” and you nod without thinking much. This man could do anything he wanted to you, and you’d thank him for it.
He settles you back down onto the couch, kneels on the floor, head level with your core, and sticks his tongue inside your hole, making you yelp in surprise and overstimulation. You don’t understand what he’s doing until he comes back up and makes you open your mouth with his thumb, then spits inside it, telling you to swallow. You do as he says and taste his cum, laughing in disbelief at what he just did - and at how much you liked it. “Fuck,” you giggle.
“Was that too much?” 
“God, no,” you say, and he smiles. You open your arms, gesturing for him to get back on the couch. He rests his head between your breasts, the both of you sighing in contentment as he rubs small circles on your belly and you graze your fingers through his hair. He’s so silent that you think he’s fallen asleep, but he speaks up after a while, voice soft and calm like you’ve never heard before.
“We should go get cleaned up…” he says, and you hum in agreement, “...but it’s so nice here,” he finishes, making you giggle.
“If we get cleaned up quickly now, we can cuddle in bed right afterwards,” you argue.
“You’re right. Infallible logic. You’re so smart, you know that, Y/N?” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice.
“Of course I know that,” you joke. “Let’s go,” you say, kissing the top of his head.
You take a shower together, cleaning each other and leaving kisses here and there, or touching in places you shouldn’t touch and that maybe lead to more, right there in the shower. Now that you’ve had a taste, you’re insatiable, and you warn Sunghoon that the both of you are in for a very long night, to which he answers that he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Once you do fall asleep, (which isn’t until two rounds later, and you’re surprised either of you have this much energy), however, you’re holding each other tightly, the fan on high so that you don’t feel all sticky, being so close to each other. Even if you wake up here and there because he shuffled or he snored too loudly, it’s one of the best sleeps you’ve ever had.
You wake up the next morning by small giggles and snorts that come from none other than Park Chaeryeong herself, who’s buried herself between you and her dad, shaking her body to wake the two of you. You’re glad that you listened to Sunghoon when he told you to put on a t-shirt of his as well as some underwear so neither you or Chaer would have a fright when she came and woke you up as she liked to do every morning. “You had a sleepover!” she exclaims excitedly when she sees you’ve finally opened your eyes, looking at her with a sleepy expression and a smile.
“We did!” you reply, trying to keep the same level of excitement.
“We did,” Sunghoon repeats, taking his daughter in her arms to hug her tightly and blows a raspberry in her neck to make her laugh.
“You didn’t invite me!” she shrieks when her dad’s left her alone.
“Sorry, sweetheart. It was just me and Y/N.”
“No fun,” she pouts, laying on her back and crossing over arms before turning back to her dad. “So, is Y/N my new mom?” she whispers even though you’re right there. You gasp at her question, making wide eyes at Sunghoon who just snorts, and you can’t tell if she’s genuinely asking or if she’s an eight-year-old with an advanced sense of irony.
“Of course not. Is Heeseung your new dad?” he asks, mentioning his ex’s new boyfriend. Chaer shakes her head.
“No. He’s Mommy’s boyfriend.”
“Exactly, and Y/N is Daddy’s girlfriend. Isn’t she?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you, smirking.
“She is,” you reply, and Chaer turns back to you, giggling. She snuggles close to you, wrapping an arm around your middle, and you’re taken aback by the sheer cuteness of it all. You look at Sunghoon with a fake pained expression, and he smiles endearingly at the two of you before sighing and joining you in your hug. He rests his arms around you and his daughter, kissing the top of your heads in turn. 
“My girls,” he mutters in your hair, and you smile peacefully.
There’s a lot of things you have to talk about with Sunghoon. You know your parents - especially your mom - will be okay with the two of you together, but will his parents be? And once semester starts again, what will happen? You’ll have to go back to campus and he’ll have to stay here - will a three-hour drive be a dealbreaker, or will you make it work?
The thing is, there’s no point in thinking about all of this at this moment. You’ve got the whole summer to figure things out. For now, you’ll eat cherries and spit out the pits, and everything will be perfect.
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this is a one shot, there will not be a part two!
permanent taglist: @k-ingzo @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts (ask to be removed/added!)
© asahicore on tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate or plagiarize my works. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
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empress-simps · 1 month
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For poly!marauders request (I saw you asked for some) could you do one where the reader faints out of nowhere and the boys get all panicked and worried and fret over her? 🌙
Hii! Thank you for the great request🫶🏻 It’ll be the first time I do a Poly!Marauder fic so pls do bear with me, I tweaked it a bit, hope you enjoy!
Worried Sick
Pairings: Poly!Marauders x Reader
CW: Mentions of toxic habits, Sirius being an arse, reader fainting, and language.
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To say that you were tired would be an understatement. You were exhausted- mentally, and physically as you were buried in a mountain of books, flipping through almost a hundred pages an hour as you tried to juggle three essays and review for NEWTS all at once.
You were so immersed in your studying, the sound of pages flipping and scratching of the quill against parchment made you slip into a hyper-focused mode that you don’t notice the passage of time making you effectively miss lunch and dinner.
“There’s my smart darling!”
Sirius grins, sneaking up to you and kissing your cheek. You jolted, looking up as you saw him, and your other boyfriends sit next to you in the library.
“Hey guys.” You try your best to muster up a cheery smile for them. Remus, who was seated beside you frowns as he notices your pale and tired face. “We haven’t seen you today, love.” You smiled sheepishly, “I was finishing up the essays we’re assigned this week.” Sirius shakes his head in a disapproving manner. “Darling, you know we could just copy off of Remus’s essay when he does it, right?” A protest from Remus was heard, making you chuckle.
“I don’t think our moony would appreciate that.” You cracked a small smile, “But he lets us copy off of his essays ever since we can remember!” James defended Sirius who nodded agreeingly.
“What we would appreciate though, is you not missing out on dinner.” Remus told you, pulling out an apple and two dishes that the house elves prepared, (bribed by James) placing it in front of you.
“Erm... I don’t really have an appetite right now, love.” You grimaced, seeing the stern expression of the werewolf. “You need to eat, darling.” James pleads, puppy eyes activating. You looked at the other two, they seemed to mirror James. “Please love, you’re making us worried sick.” Remus gently pushed the food in your direction.
“Alright then…” How could you possibly deny your adorable boyfriends?
This continued for a few days or so, each day got the boys increasingly worried than yesterday. Sleeping for four hours (five if you’re lucky) and studying all day became your new routine, you hardly even spend time with the boys anymore, only during breakfast at the great hall since you mostly skip lunch and dinner to study. If it weren’t for your friends and your boyfriends, you would’ve already starved.
You groaned, plopping down in between Remus and James, taking a bite of the toast in front of you, and ignoring the light headedness you were feeling since you woke up. Marlene looked up from her plate and winced as she took in the sight of you.
“Merlin, y/n. You look worse than a dementor.”
“Thanks Marls, appreciate it.” You grumbled, taking a swig of the pumpkin juice, grimacing as you felt that a huge gulp of the beverage and a small bite of toast was too much for your stomach to handle.
“I’m serious, when was the last time you had a good night’s rest?” She frowns, shaking her head as she gave a pointed look at your boyfriends. “There’s already three of you and you can’t even manage to take care of your girl?”
“Not my fault she chooses to stick her nose into books rather than spending time with us.” Sirius huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, his dramatic and petty side surfacing. “Pads.” Remus warns, the light headedness that you’ve felt suddenly worsens as you feel the urge to throw up. Lily seemed to notice, shooting a worried glance on your way as you waved it off.
“What Moony? It’s true! It’s like she forgot she even is in a committed relationship with us.” Sirius spat, getting riled up as James tried to diffuse the situation.  “Sirius, I already said I’m sorry…” She rasped out, trying to reach for his hand but he jerked it away. “Don’t be a knobhead, Pads.” Remus glares at him, irritated by how he’s acting.
Sirius rolled his eyes, it was obvious that he was hurt; You rarely spend time with them anymore, accidentally pushing them away and shutting them out just because of those stupid academics. “Whatever.” He grunts, and stands up, walking away from the table.
You felt yourself get weak; as the great hall spins around you, cold sweat started to form on your temple as spots slowly made it’s wany into your vision. Despite your body practically screaming for you to just sit and stay still, you push yourself from the benches and follow him. “Sirius, love- “He turns to you, frowning. “What now?”
 You opened your mouth, about to say a word when suddenly your legs gave out, the spots grew larger as you tried to look at Sirius before your world suddenly faded to black. You heard screams from the students, the loudest ones you recognized were from your friends, especially Marlene and Lily.
“Shit!” Sirius was thankful for his awfully fast reflexes that he managed to catch you before you hit your head on the cold floor. James and Remus rushed to the both of you. “Bloody hell, Pads!” James kneels in front of you, gently tapping your cheek as a sense of urgency surrounds them. “Darling, please open your eyes, can you hear me?” James asked you, every second that ticks makes the feeling of dread in his stomach grow larger.
“P-prongs, Moony… I promise I didn’t know she was going to faint…” Sirius whimpered as he cradles you, eyes looking frazzled and darting back and forth between his lovers. James felt his breath become faster, as you didn’t respond to any of his attempts. Other students started to gather around to take a peek on what’s happening in the middle of the great hall while Marlene and the other Gryffindor students kept them from nearing. Remus knelt next to James, trying not to freak out like what the other two are already doing. He slowly placed his trembling hand on your forehead. “No fever, but we need to take her to Madame Pomfrey.” He announces, biting his lip as Sirius lifts you up bridal style, the three of them rushing you to the hospital wing.
The bright and harsh light of the hospital wing made you wince, you slowly blink, trying to adjust to the brightness of your surroundings. “Darling! You’re awake!” James tackles you into a hug, almost squeezing out the air from your lungs.
“Prongs! Be careful!” Remus’s tone was harsh, as if scolding James. The boy slowly pulled away, pouting, which Remus had ignored. “How are you, love?” Remus’s gaze softened as he looked in your direction, taking your hand in his as he rubbed circles in the back of your hand.
 “For the most part, I’m fine.” You croaked out, James immediately gave you water. After taking a few sips, you let your eyes wander around, someone was missing- Where’s Sirius?
James seemed to catch on this, “He’s outside, beating himself up for being an arsehole.” You frowned, “Can you please tell him to come in? I want to see him…” You mumbled, James nodded and fetched Sirius outside of the hospital wing.
After a short while, Sirius emerged, darting his eyes anywhere but onto you. “Love…” You gently called out to him; Sirius bit his lip as he finally took in the sight of you. “Darling, I’m sorry. I was such an arse to you.” He sincerely apologized while you shake your head, “I’m sorry too, I was stressing out too much. I barely even managed to take care of myself and spend time with you guys.”
“Just don’t do it again, darling. We almost lost our minds when you fainted.” James told you as he tucks stray hair behind your ear.
“I won’t do that again; I’ll just copy off of Moony’s work.” She chuckled, glancing at the said boy, she saw the twinkle in his eyes as he smiled and rolled his eyes playfully.
The sun’s rays filtered out in the curtains of the hospital wing, encasing the four in a warm glow as they conversed amongst themselves, putting the events behind them; silently promising to love and care for each other, through thick and thin.
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yamujiburo · 20 days
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HANAMUSA HEADCANONS
Woo! Some fun lil headcanons~
Jessie and Delia Headcanons
Delia is a morning person and was surprised to learn that Jessie was even more of a morning person than her
Jessie's a massive romantic and is usually the one to plan all their dates
Jessie and Delia enjoy doing karaoke together
After finding out Delia wanted to be model, Jessie started making a lot of new outfits for her using her years of expertise from making disguises
Jessie enjoys giving Delia makeovers and Delia loves getting them
Delia enjoys being big spoon
Delia initiated their first kiss
Jessie cuts Delia’s hair for her
Once Jessie becomes a nurse and starts going to work, Delia starts packing lunches for her every day. It’s usually way too much food
Whenever Delia’s working in the kitchen, Jessie’s always waddling right behind her. Not really being much help but Delia doesn’t mind
Jessie's not great at cooking but makes an effort to make food for Delia when she notices Delia's tired. It's usually bad but Delia appreciates the thought
Delia is incredibly fond of Jessie’s Pokémon, Wobbuffet and Gourgeist in particular 
Delia is terrified of snake Pokémon
Delia never really drank before meeting Jessie but now they have wine nights together. They usually end with Jessie passed out in Delia’s lap
When Delia gets really drunk, she gets REALLY affectionate and grabby
Delia can't swim and it's her secret shame
Professor Oak is very cordial with Jessie but also wary of her. He mostly wants to make sure Delia is taken care of and won't get her heart broken
Pikachu comes around to Jessie rather quickly after realizing she’s not really a threat and finding out how good at head scratches she is (she has nice long nails)
Mimey takes the longest to come around to Jessie 
Jessie calls Delia “my Deerling” and Delia calls Jessie "Smoochum"
Delia loves when Jessie gives her kisses on the forehead
Delia is a huge Jessilina fan. Jessie reveals that she is Jessilina but Delia doesn’t believe her at first
Jessie and Delia do a lot of movie nights together. Jessie loves sobbing at romcoms and Delia likes really fucked up horror movies for some reason (Jessie’s terrified of them but doesn’t want Delia to think she’s a coward)
Jessie likes to randomly scoop Delia up and carry her around the house
Delia picked up a habit of talking to herself prior to Jessie moving in. It frequently catches Jessie off guard
Jessie gets irritated when people flirt with Delia. Mostly because that's her girl but also because she's mad they weren't flirting with her, herself.
Delia tends to keep a lot of her negative feelings to herself but after meeting Jessie and seeing how unapologetically expressive she is, she starts letting her guard down a bit. She rants about rude customers and Jessie could listen to her all day
Because she lived alone for so long, Delia sometimes needs her space. Jessie’s still getting used to this (as someone who hates being alone)
Delia is very particular about how chores are done as well as how things are organized in her house
Prior to getting her own job, Jessie would just do chores then sit around at the Ketchum house waiting for Delia to come home. She’s very bad at entertaining herself
Jessie puts on a healthy amount of relationship weight over time. Long gone are the days of Jessie eating snow (out of necessity) and starving
Jessie still likes snowgasboard as a treat
Delia and Jessie both have abandonment issues and require a lot of reassurance from one another
Delia's not super strong but she starts working out in order to one day carry Jessie on their wedding day
Jessie, who is used to being on the run, gets antsy from staying home more frequently. She takes up a lot of yoga and running. Delia joins sometimes.
Ash Headcanons
When Ash first found out that his mom was dating Jessie, he was, justifiably, suspicious of her.
Early on Ash would secretly prank Jessie in hopes that it'd make her leave
Jessie and Ash slowly bond through Pokémon battles as well as sharing Pokémon facts with each other
Ash never calls Jessie “mom” and she’s very okay with that. He does however call her “dad” to piss her off
Jessie calls Ash “champ” in retaliation
Jessie's been quietly invested in Ash's love life, having seen him travel with so many people and witnessing all the crushes people have had on him.
James Headcanons
James is aroace and happy not being in a relationship
Now that he's settled down in Pallet, James spends a lot of his time indulging in his many hobbies (bottle cap/Pokéball collecting, gardening, building miniature models of various things, raising and training Pokémon, etc.)
Because Jessie kept passing out at wine nights, Delia started inviting James to them and it's now become more of their thing
James started off as just a waiter at Delia's restaurant but Delia found out he was great at cooking so they exchange roles sometimes
Jessie frequently goes to him for advice on how to impress Delia and be a better person for her. He's the nicest person she knows.
Jessie is still pretty affectionate and close with James and he gets freaked out about it, thinking Delia would have a problem with it (she does not)
James and Ash really get along. Even early on when he was still getting used to Jessie being around the house, he'd confide in James (and James, like a secret helper, would help Jessie out by letting her know Ash's needs)
Meowth Headcanons
Meowth took getting fired from Team Rocket the hardest
Delia and Professor Oak filled the Giovanni shaped hole in his heart
Oak had a really hard time trusting Meowth at first and whenever he translated anything from the Pokémon, Oak wasn't sure whether to believe him or not
After some time working at Oak's lab, Oak gave Meowth a pet on the head after he did a good job and it altered his brain chemistry forever
Meowth had a hard time making friends with Ash's Pokémon at Oak's lab (obviously) but Infernape, right away was happy to have him around. He helped all the Pokémon come around and get to know Meowth
Meowth was the first one to pick up on Jessie's crush on Delia. Unlike James, he didn't get too involved, worried that Jessie dating Delia then potentially blowing it might ruin a good thing (his views on love are a bit jaded after his experiences)
Meowth is now very supportive of Jessie and Delia, and is happy that one of his best friends found love
Other Headcanons
Professor Oak is very cordial with Jessie but also wary of her. He mostly wants to make sure Delia is taken care of and won't get her heart broken
Pikachu comes around to Jessie rather quickly after realizing she’s not really a threat and finding out how good at head scratches she is (she has nice long nails)
Mimey takes the longest to come around to Jessie. Jessie's asked Meowth to help her figure out what Mimey's deal is but Meowth is also scared to talk to Mimey.
Seviper desperately longs for Delia's love and attention but she's too scared of it. She eventually gets to the point where she can pet it with no issues as long as Jessie is also in the room
Early on, Delia's customers start to pick up on the fact that Delia was happier. They assumed she'd finally found a new boyfriend but they were very surprised to find out she was dating a bombshell of a woman
The people of Pallet were initially a bit scared of Jessie. Not a lot of women there look quite like her. She has an intimidating aura but over time find that she's quite pleasant, especially when she's with Delia
General Team Rocket Heacanons!
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hughes86-43 · 27 days
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“You look really good in my clothes” | N. Hischier
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note - two anons sent in the same request so I just made it into this!
warnings - none! maybe some grammar errors!
You walked into your apartment, immediately closing the door and dropping your keys on the table nearby. You walked down the hallway and placed your several bags onto the dining table. You were so glad to be home from work, and you needed to get out of your work clothes as soon as possible.
You take a shower to get all the days work off of you, but you also just needed to get warm from how cold it was on your walk from work. You hop out of the shower and put on your robe and make your way to the walk-in closet you share with your boyfriend, Nico. However, you go to his side of the closet rather than yours.
You pick out one of your favorite hoodies of his, a cozy New Jersey devils one, and you grab a pair of sweatpants, they’re a bit loose on you but nothing a little tying up can’t fix. You place your robe back into the bathroom, finish getting ready for the night, and make your way to the kitchen to get dinner ready. Nico would be home soon enough from hanging out with some of his teammates.
Thirty minutes later, you’re standing facing the stove making some spaghetti, when you hear the front door open and close. Soon enough, you hear footsteps coming down the hallway. “Schatzi? Are you home?”
“In the kitchen, Neeks!” You call out to him.
You turn your attention back to the food on the stove and wait for him to come find you. After about two minutes, you feel a gaze on you, so you turn around. Nico is leaning against the doorway, running his eyes up and down your body. You know he has noticed that you’re wearing his clothes, even though you know he doesn’t mind, you turn a bit shy at his gaze.
“Schatzi, you look really good in my clothes,” he says, never once taking his eyes off of you.
“I know right? I might just keep taking them!” You laugh out as he comes walking closer to you.
He pulls you closer to him by the waistband of your his sweatpants, tugging them a bit since they’re too loose on you. You laugh as he pulls them up on you. He says, “I don’t mind if you do, but they may just fall down a bit!” You give him a peck on the lips and squeeze him tighter before turning around back to the stove before the food you’re making burns.
“I’m making spaghetti, we don’t have much else, so I hope that’s okay,” you say turning your head to see him already eating a piece of bread. “Hey! Dinner isn’t done, yet! No taking food!”
“I’m hungry! The guys didn’t feed me because they all seemed to eat before we went to hang out, so I starved the whole time.” He gives you puppy dog eyes so that you’ll let him get another piece of bread.
“Fine, one piece and that’s it until food is done!” When he turns around, you playfully smack his butt with the spatula. He twirls around so fast with a grin on his face.
Pointing his finger at you, he says, “Watch it, or you’ll never get to wear my clothes again!”
You put the spatula behind your back, and nod your head playfully. “Fine, fine! But we both know you wouldn’t do that, you love seeing me in your clothes so much!”
Nico laughs, “Yeah, you’re right I wouldn’t, I do love seeing you in my clothes a lot.”
356 notes · View notes
iwritefandomimagines · 6 months
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CLUMSY — SPIDERMAN!ETHAN LANDRY
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masterlist
pairing: spiderman!ethan landry x reader
description: he’s always been good at keeping the whole spidey secret from people. but you, you make him clumsy. with his words, his feelings, and his big old secret.
warnings: swearing, injury mentions, scream plot simply doesn’t exist so he has loving non-murdery parents !
author’s note: i’m such a fuckin sucker for spiderman coded characters and have been reading every spidey!ethan fic on this hellscape for the past few days to get me out of my writing rut. i hope u enjoy!
“You’re here? Like, right now?”
The panic in his expression makes you feel absolutely ridiculous, and you almost drop the pizza box in your hand from the sudden insecurity.
“I— Shit, sorry I should’ve asked,” your voice came out sort of like a squeak, only swamping you with more embarrassment, “Your mum let me in and—,”
“No, no, it’s fine,” his voice sounds like it is very much not fine, and he seems to realise this as he chokes out a cough before continuing, “Gimme like, two minutes and you can come up. I just showered so I’m like, not dressed. Ah!”
You hear a thud both through the phone and through the ceiling, and you fight the urge to run upstairs in a panic as an exasperated gasp is emitted through the phone.
“Sounds like you’re— uh, having difficulty getting dressed?” you bite your lip, and you hear a strained chuckle from him, “I’ll leave you to it. If you’re sure I’m good to be here I’ll just wait with your mum. Text when it’s, uh, safe.”
He hums in agreement and hangs up without another word.
“Is everything alright, honey?” his mum asks softly, hands on her hips as she leans into the hallway from the lounge, “You can go on up! Your pizza will get cold otherwise.”
“Oh, uh, yeah,” you tremble, “He said he’s just getting dressed from his shower, so I’m giving him a sec.”
Her face twists in confusion, but she resumes her smile almost immediately, “Right, okay. Well have fun sweetie. Not too much though!”
She had suspected something was going on between you ever since Ethan had started spontaneously disappearing and then coming back with the excuse that he was at your house.
Of course, he often was — but on the flip side of that what she didn’t know was that he would often frantically leave your house with the excuse that she wanted him home, like, immediately.
The key factor in this was that you were both completely unaware of his entire second identity as a masked fucking superhero (one who you, rather embarrassingly if you did know, had made it very clear you had a crush on).
“Of, uh, of course not Mrs Landry!”
As if to save you from the sudden awkwardness, your phone pinged with a text from Ethan to say you were safe to go upstairs now.
You waved his mum goodbye and darted upstairs — three knocks of the door later it was swung open to reveal a breathless, sweaty Ethan in a backwards sweater.
“Dude, you realise your sweater is on backwards, yeah?”
Fuck! He was an idiot!
“Sorry, that’s what I get for rushing to get ready, huh,” he turned away as he pulled his arms from the sleeves of his jumper and turned it to the right way round, trying to hide the blush that had flushed his cheeks, “You brought pizza! Amazing! I’m starving.”
He practically snatched the box from your hands, plonking himself down on his bed as he pulled the box open and groaned in delight at the food on his lap.
“You’re being weird.”
“Weird? What? I’m fine—,”
“And you’re pretty drenched in sweat for someone who just showered, Eth,” you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest, “Is there a girl in here— oh my god I’ve just interrupted you haven’t I? I should—,”
“No, no!” he cried out, tossing the pizza box aside, just a little disheartened by the fact you seemed more embarrassed than upset at the fact he might be fucking someone else, “I’m not! I wasn’t! Of course not!”
“Are you sure?” you hummed suspiciously, noticing that his wardrobe was slightly ajar, “She’s not, like, in here—,”
You yanked open his wardrobe, more than aware that there would be nobody in there but hoping to tease him a little more into being honest about why he was dripping with sweat and completely on edge right now.
He would’ve told you if he was seeing someone, you were sure of it. And you knew when he was lying. Usually.
What you didn’t expect was for a fucking Spider-man mask to fall from a high shelf into the wardrobe and land atop his curls as he darted towards you to stop you.
“You—I—,” he didn’t know what to say now as he pulled the mask from his head and gripped it hard in his hands, “Fuck!”
Your heart leapt to your throat as it sunk in what was happening right now.
Ethan — your Ethan, your best friend in the world (who you like, totally didn’t have a huge crush on or anything), the Ethan who couldn’t talk to other girls or speak above a whisper in new company — was your friendly neighbourhood Spider-man?
“Dude what the fuck?!”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you… I didn’t know how to,” he looked as thought he might cry as he discarded the mask and reached out to grab your forearms and force you to make eye contact, “And it was too dangerous— if you knew— I don’t want you to get hurt because of me, Y/N.”
You shook your head, completely flabbergasted as you took the mask from him, “I can’t believe this… And— does anyone else know?”
It was his turn to shake his head now, “Nobody. It’s safer that way. Some of these people, they—,” he paused, “if they knew who I cared about, they’d use it against me. And I can’t let you get hurt, Y/N. Especially not you.”
Your hands flew up to his face as you watched him tremble, and you suddenly felt guilty for finding out.
You rubbed at his cheekbones with your thumbs soothingly, “Eth—It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m okay.”
He bit his lip, his eyes flittering across your whole face as he tried to calm himself down, “It’s— I didn’t want you to find out. Especially not like this. I don’t want you to worry, and I’m gonna—I’m gonna worry about you.”
You shook your head, “I don’t even know what to say except that I hate the idea of you carrying this huge secret around all alone. And the danger… I can’t imagine what I’d do if you got hurt.”
His hands lifted to rest atop yours now, pulling them down and close to his chest, “It’s okay, I promise. I don’t want you having to carry my secret around either. I care about you too much.”
“Ethan…” you squeezed his hands tightly, blinking away tears.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. And I’m sorry you found out like this, and—,”
You shook your head again, eyes glimmering up at him, “Don’t apologise. I’m not mad, I’m just scared. I love you, I don’t want anything to happen to you. And you’re— you’re Spiderman. What the actual fuck.”
“Wait, wait, back up— you— love— you love me?” Ethan gulped, and you chuckled lightheartedly as you felt yourself getting lightheaded at your accidental confession.
“Looks like we’re both letting out secrets tonight, huh?”
You were crying now, unsure if it was down to the fact you’d just told your best friend that you loved him or that you were processing his whole second identity, or more likely an amalgamation of the two.
“I—,”
“You don’t have to say it back, Eth,” you shrugged as he released your hands to wipe a tear from your cheeks, “It’s okay. I promise.”
It was his turn to shake his head at you now, “No! I’m just scared to say it because if I do, then it’s real. And if it’s real, then you’re more in danger than I ever imagined.”
You bit your lip — unable to argue with his reasoning.
“I love you, Y/N, I do,” his eyes were welling up now too, “That’s why I’m so terrified, ‘cause if anyone finds out about you then you’re in more danger. Some of these guys would go to any lengths to hurt the people I love.”
You grabbed his hands again, “But that’s not your burden to hold by yourself, Eth. I won’t tell anyone, I won’t make it obvious I know, I’ll just pretend things are normal. Besides, nobody knows your identity anyway, do they?”
“No, but it’s a risk,” he sighed.
You shrugged, “But I’d still be a potential target whether you love me or not. We’re best friends, obviously you care about me.”
He pulled you into a hug now, kissing the top of your head and holding you tightly to his chest, “I—I guess you’re right.”
“And you shouldn’t have to carry this secret on your own, without being able to talk to anyone,” you whispered against his chest.
He let out a sigh that almost sounded relieved, “Thank you, Y/N. I really don’t deserve you. As a best friend or-or that you love me.”
You laughed lightly, kissing the space below his collarbone where your face was rested.
He hummed in response, pulling back to really look at you now as you responded, “Don’t be silly, Eth. You deserve the world, alright?”
He leaned down so that your noses were practically touching, his eyes twinkling as you leaned in to him.
You felt his tongue swipe over his bottom lip for a brief moment before his lips met yours gently.
You leaned further into the kiss, hands lifting up to tangle in his curls as he smiled at your reciprocation.
Despite you having confessed to him first, he still couldn’t believe what was happening.
“Can I tell you another secret?” you giggled, giddy as you pulled back from the kiss and saw Ethan’s brows furrowed in confusion, “Uh… Yeah?”
“I’ve always had a crush on Spiderman anyway,” you sing-songed.
He rolled his eyes, but the crimson blush on his cheeks was clearly visible, “You did, huh?”
“Mhm,” you hummed, “The suit, the saving people, the idea of patching up his—your— injuries and like— I don’t know, it’s weird.”
“No, no,” Ethan smiled, “As long as you don’t like him more than you like me.”
“Are you forgetting that he is you?” you laughed, fingers still caressing his curls.
His hands rested on your waist as he smiled amusedly, the pad of his thumbs rubbing over your hipbones, “You didn’t know that though!”
“I obviously still like you more, don’t worry,” you teased, “My dream man would be, like, you in a Spidey suit, so I suppose I’m in luck.”
“I guess you kinda are,” he kissed the corner of your lip quickly, and you smiled so sweetly that he could almost anticipate your next question.
“Can—,”
“I’m not putting the suit on on for you until you’ve let me take you on a date,” he smirked, pleased with himself and his newfound confidence.
You kissed him quickly again now too, still dizzy with excitement at being this close to him, “You drive a hard bargain, Landry. Besides, the pizza’s probably cold by now. Let’s go get something to eat?”
He laughed heartily at your eagerness, briefly releasing your waist to pick up the discarded mask and toss it back into the wardrobe and beginning to dig through his clothes.
“Can I just change? The panic outfit doesn’t exactly scream romantic date.”
You laughed, and now it was your turn to blush crimson as you looked down at your own outfit.
You fumbled with the zip of your hoodie, pulling it down to reveal an oversized Spiderman shirt you’d bought as a joke from an NYC market stall.
“I didn’t—, oh my god this is so embarrassing.”
“Oh wow, I have merch now?”
“Mhm, 15 dollars,” you giggled, “Maybe let’s just stay in and eat the cold pizza? We can go on a proper date another night.”
He nodded, fingers tracing over the badly sketched drawing of himself on your chest as you bit your lip.
“Can I borrow one of your shirts? This is literally so embarrassing now.”
“Of course,” he replied, but smirked as he pulled you close, “But to be honest, seeing you in that shirt is kinda hot.”
“Suddenly he loves me being a Spidey fan, huh?” you teased, kissing him as you discarded your hoodie entirely.
He smirked wider again, before holding you in a kiss for a few moments until he pulled back and stared at you in absolute awe.
“Maybe it has its perks.”
———
thank you so much for reading !!! this has been almost finished for soooo long & i finally got it done. i hope you enjoyed <3
here is my masterlist, feel free to request if there’s anything you’d like to read from me x
411 notes · View notes
multific · 2 months
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My Darling Dark
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Astarion x Vampire!Reader
Warnings: Torture, blood, sad themes (with happy end)
Summary: Being born as a vampire was completely different from becoming one. You, a born trueblood vampire, fall in love with a man your father kept torturing.
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When you first saw him, he was only an elf. Your father took him in with the false promise and hope of a new life. 
A better life.
But your father was a liar.
Soon, the charming man you knew was turned into a tool. A tool to gather more and more men and women.
Much like you, his life was never truly his.
Astarion Ancunin. 
You heard his name the day after the poem was scratched into his back.
A poem so cruel.
Then you heard the news that he tried to run.
He tried and failed.
He was thrown into a cell, the darkest chamber in the entire dungeon.
This is when you first spoke with him.
"We are not so different," you said as you knelt in front of him. Your heart broke seeing him like this. 
He laughed.
"Not so different? I don't see you chained to a wall! Tortured and starved."
"You might not see it, but I do have chains." your tone was even, calm.
"You are Cazador's little daughter. I highly doubt you have any chains. If anything he sent you to further torture me." his eyes were filled with anger.
"I'm simply a product of his cruelty. My mother died giving birth to me, and he took me. I'm simply one of his... poems if you will. Another proof of his cruelty." the story of your birth... filled with blood, screams and death. You doubt your mother died the way Cazarod claimed.
"Is that why you are walking around in fancy dresses? Dripped in gold and jewels?" 
"It is but the surface. He keeps me locked away at night, bound by a curse so I wouldn't leave. So that I can't leave. You must be mistaken, he doesn't love me nor does he care for me. I'm what you might call his backup plan in case he was attacked. I'm nothing but a walking immunity potion to him." 
This is when he noticed, his eyes held anger, while yours held nothing but pain.
"Why are you here?" he asked, not much calmer.
"I came in hopes of freedom, in hopes of escape from this Hell. You are the only one who dared defy him and yet you are still alive."
"What do you want from me?"
"I want you to kill me when the time comes. Promise me, Astarion, please. Please you must kill me and then kill him."
"How could I kill you?"
"A knife to the heart." your answer was simple, yet you failed to realise he didn't ask for the how, no, he rather refused to kill something so beautiful and kind.
The exact opposite of Cazador. 
He didn't promise, he didn't swear. But he did make a promise that night, if he was to ever escape, he would take you with him.
---
You tried to visit him often, behind your father's back you two met and talked.
Astarion was an interesting man.
You tried to visit him as often as you could.
Your father didn't exactly keep a close eye on you when he knew you couldn't leave his palace.
And he truly didn't care what you were doing.
"Today, I brought you a gift." you said as you pulled out a vile from under your dress. 
The glass, filled with blood, immediately caught his attention.
"Thank you, Darling." he said, eyes glued to the liquid.
You spend countless days trying to figure out if his kindness was simply to charm you into bringing him food and keeping him company.
You would have thought he was kind because he liked you.
But you were often reminded of the opposite every moment your father mentioned him.
Yet your heart was not easy to discourage.  
You have grown to love him during the months of conversations and stolen moments.
It finally gave you a purpose.
Something you truly didn't have before.
---
The day Astarion escaped was the day the light went out in your life. 
"You thought he loved you?" Cazador asked as he laughed at you. His dark laughter bounced off the stone walls. "Child, he is but a charmer, a tool, and a coward." you wanted to argue, you wanted to yell and scream, but instead you just turned, walked away and locked yourself into your room.
You blamed yourself.
You were a fool.
You believed his smiles and gentle touches.
You cursed yourself for it.
Yet, you still loved him. You hoped he was safe and happy.
---
Years have passed. 
A decade even and yet, you never stopped hoping he would return for you.
A fruitless dream it was.
Yet it was the only last remaining light in your otherwise dark life.
Locked away in the dark for years. Astarion is your only hope for escape, whether it is death or not.
It was when Cazador found you in the bath, bathing in blood when he smiled.
"With each passing day, you become more and more like me." he said.
And you couldn't doubt it.
You craved blood like never before, it got to a point where your father had locked you into your room because you were killing too many of his slaves.
But soon, he let you out, not even for a full day did he lock you away.
He got you new gowns, dark ones.
"For my daughter." he said. He never said that before, he called you Child, but he never looked this happy when saying it. 
Dark gowns, more and more blood.
A decade of blood had turned you into something you never wanted to be.
And yet, there you were, his daughter.
Even if you looked nothing like him.
You could recall the day you changed. The day you realized Astarion was not coming for you. The day you realized he just used you and escaped.
Was the day people started to call you the Scarlet Lady.
The brutal vampire who loved to bathe in blood and watch people suffer.
Yet, none of them knew the truth. No one knew your pain and suffering.
---
The day he came back, you could smell the blood. You heard the cries of death and then, his own cries.
Relief, freedom.
And yet, he found you locked in your room.
"My Darling Dark, what has happened to you?" you turned to the man, your face held no emotion, and yet your heart was just about ready to burst out of your chest.
"Astarion." you looked into his eyes. "Why are you here?"
You knew exactly why, he came to kill your father... possibly even you.
"I came to fulfil my promise to you, My Love."
"You do not have to fool me with your sweet words anymore. You killed my father already."
"I'm not fooling you, Darling. I came to kill him and set you free."
"You left me here. You left me to rot here alone."
"Darling, please." he sounded desperate. "I came to save you."
"I don't know if there is anything to save."
"Don't speak nonsense! You know exactly how afraid I was of Kazador. You know exactly the things he was capable of."
"I know! It is why it pains me that you left me with him!" now you raised your voice, tears began to run down your face. "I know exactly what he is capable of! He punished me for your escape! He threw me into a chamber and left me there for two whole years! He drained my blood and fed it to the spawn... And then, when he got me out of that hole, he said, 'I hope it was worth it.'" 
"I'm so sorry. I am a coward, I ran and I was too afraid to return to save you. Then I heard the news of you, people fear you, bathing in blood, murdering many."
"I was hungry." 
"I know how that feels, My Darling. I'm so sorry."
"I missed you." he took a step closer to you, as if he was testing the water to see if you would flee or not. 
You didn't. You didn't run away, instead, you moved towards him and hugged him as he hugged you back.
"I am so sorry for leaving you, but I was so scared."
"I understand although it will take some time for me to forgive you."
"Will you come with me?"
"Yes." you pulled back and looked into his eyes.
"And for now, that is more than enough for me." he placed a kiss on your forehead before he grabbed your hand and walked out of the palace with you, leaving behind all the bad memories, blood and pain.
From now on, it was only you and Astarion.
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Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
316 notes · View notes
abbyromanoff · 6 months
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FOOLISH ONE
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PAIRINGS: Carol Danvers x reader
WORD COUNT: 1,879
WARNINGS: smut, dark!Carol, kidnapping, mentions of insanity, use of Daddy (sexual/non-sexual use), pet play (sexual/non-sexual), drugging, alien!R, collars, piercings, think that’s all :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
It’s been days now and nothing but silence has greeted you. You were locked away in a secluded room, it was meant for your safety, as the unknown voice would say. The person, who you guessed was an older woman, would occasionally stop by to drop off food. You never got a good look at her, only spending your time pleading to be freed, insisting people would look for you. But when you really got to thinking, you realized your statement was most likely wrong. Who were you kidding, nobody cared about you, nobody had even spared a glance in your direction.
It was a horrid thought, but throughout the days, you started feeling more content with where you were. The thought of death scared you, but if the woman wanted to kill you, she would’ve already. You heard her murmur the reasons why she took you on the first day when she went over the rules, but sadly your eyes were covered by a blindfold, forcing you to make up an imaginary woman behind the voice.
She stated how she had been watching you for a while now and just couldn’t hold back anymore. Someone noticed you, was all that ran through your head. She noticed you and she wanted you, who could think such a thing. You weren’t…normal. You had green skin and pointy ears, any human, you guessed she was human, would throw you away and call you a freak. You were rather innocent compared to your peers, you grew up lacking the knowledge of most and being forced into shelter by your parents. So once you stepped into the real world, there was no hope for you. People would chuckle at your cluelessness, and you’d be left embarrassed and ashamed of yourself. You just wanted to be like everyone else, was that so much to ask for?
“Here’s your breakfast, honey. Make sure you eat this time, alright?” You started off refusing her meals and drinks in hopes it would get you out of this mess, but you gave up once the hunger started settling in. You should’ve seen the smile on her face when watching you through the cameras.
“T-thank you, ma’am.” You stood up on shaky legs and took the plate through the small window at your stomachline. You didn’t know how long this would continue, but you just wanted something to do. Your days were filled with your eyes staring at a blank void, dreaming of the sun that you never thought you’d miss so much. Maybe she’d let you go out someday, maybe she’d finally set you free.
“Wait!” You called when noticing that she was about to shut the small window. It was your only source of light and it was the most peaceful thing you’ve seen in what felt like years.
“Uhm, can you leave that open? I- I like the light, I’ve been starting to feel a little weak.” She didn’t speak a word, only doing as you asked and leaving you to let out a grateful sigh. She grinned to herself before walking towards the bathroom, grabbing two sets of pills and a glass of water.
She returned moments later as you ate the plate of eggs hungrily, nearly leaving you coughing from the dryness. She wasn’t the best cook, but at least you got to eat. You’ve heard thousands of horror stories from your parents in which kidnappers would starve their victims until they were skin and bone, you couldn’t be ungrateful here.
“Here you go, love, this will help you feel better.” She slipped through the small antibiotics and bottled water, already being able to sense your hesitance through the door.
“You’re not forced to take them, but I suggest if you’d like to feel better, that you do.” You nodded slowly and placed them next to your food, planning to let your full stomach rest before taking them. But, soon enough, you swallowed the pills with a large gulp, almost instantly feeling a wave of anxiety doing so. In horror movies, you never trust the killer, she was the killer in this case. God, you were so stupid. No wonder why everyone repeated those words in your face your whole life.
Only a few minutes later you were feeling woozy, your head starting to spin as your eyes fluttered shut constantly. You were breaking the barrier of pure exhaustion when you heard a door creak open. You tried opening your eyes, wanting to finally catch a glance at the woman who’d been holding you captive, but you were unable to as you fell into a deep state of unconsciousness.
“There you go, baby.”
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You woke to a collar tightening around your neck, the sound of a small chain being heard in the background. You fluttered your eyes open before they went wide as you saw the beauty standing in front of you. She smiled down at you when noticing your now awakened figure.
“Well, good morning, sleepyhead!” She ruffled your hair lightly and, if you weren’t currently held bound by your hands and legs, then you would’ve sunk into the feeling. She took recognition of your nervousness, stroking your cheek gently in a silent reassurance.
“Awh, don’t be scared, Daddy’s here.” You took in all of her, glancing up and down at her features. Your line of sight stopped below her belt as you spotted a small bulge hidden beneath her pants. She was packing.
“Such a naughty pup, didn’t you ever get taught some manners, huh?” You gulped fearfully and she chuckled darkly, pressing a kiss to your forehead before tugging you forward.
“Hm, I guess not. Don’t worry, Daddy will teach you everything you need to know.” You were forced to follow her without hope, desperately reaching for something to hold onto as you tripped.
“God, you can’t do anything.” She groaned out tiredly. She knew she had lots of work to do in order to teach you, but she was willing to do anything.
“Where are we going?” You asked timidly, being cautious of every word you spoke and every move you made.
“Outside. I know I’ve been neglecting you of the sun for some time now, and I’m so very sorry, but you had to learn. Now, if you’re a good girl, this could be an often occurrence. But if not…” She trailed off, and you took it as an opportunity for you to fill her words.
“I go back to the darkroom?” You hoped that’s what she wanted to hear. But the smile forming on her face convinced you that you were right and calmed your nerves slightly.
“That’s right! See, you’re already doing so well, puppy.” You had a short time to register the praise before the harsh beams of light hit your now-lightened skin. You were normally a considerably darker shade of green, now you were a sea green with purplish bags under your eyes.
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“Uhm, Miss?” You called, trying to catch her attention without being forced to use the humiliating nickname.
“That’s not how you direct me.” She sternly retorted, refusing to take her eyes away from her book. You were starting to form goosebumps from the chilly weather, your body lacking a normal amount of clothing as you were forced to wear a small bra and panties. You wanted to ask, but you wanted to save your sanity at the same time. What would be better, you didn’t know.
“Sorry…Daddy,” It was a low mumble, but it was enough for her to hear you. She suddenly gazed into your eyes with a glance that told you to continue. She would work on your voice level another time, for now, she wanted to see what you so desperately needed.
“I-I’m getting really cold, is there any chance we could go inside? Please?” She hummed before standing abruptly, stalking towards your coward-down form.
“Learning your manners already, I see.” She leaned down, her knees folding as she groaned in slight pain. Her fingers came to your cheek before dragging a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Her eyes bored into yours, normally you’d look away in embarrassment, but with her, it was as if you were searching for something more.
“I can already tell you’re going to be the best, most obedient little puppy I could ever ask for. I knew I picked right with you.” You leaned into her touch as she stroked your skin, her features gleaming as she admired the green. Your ears perked up at the attention and she chuckled, kissing your forehead softly before grasping your hand and pulling you up. She lifted you into her arms as if you weighed nothing and you quickly wrapped your legs around her waist.
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Inside you were placed gently onto the warm bed she had been sleeping in. You were almost jealous that she got to lay in this while you suffered in the dark, cold room for days at a time.
“Alright, your bath is all set, pup.” She guided you with her, letting you step in after she removed your few clothing. You were given small toy ducks and a tiny boat to play with, all while the bubbles filled the tub.
You played with the small toys, giggling to yourself as you made the boat sink and return back to the surface. Carol would occasionally splash you with a few droplets of water before you did the same, causing her shirt to adorn wet stains. She had a small cup where she’d pour the same water onto your head to wash out any soap until you were finally done.
Suddenly, you felt a small tug on your nipples. You looked up quickly, a gasp escaping your lips while she stared at the perky skin.
“You’d look so cute with nipple piercings, ya’ think?” You gulped nervously, already imagining the amount of pain you’d have to go through just to satisfy her curiosity.
“Maybe you can have little bells on ‘em so Daddy knows where you are at all times.” She pinched the hardened nerves, running her tongue against them and bringing shivers to your spine.
“D-do I have a choice?” She threw her head back humorously, laughing to herself as you bit your lip. You stared up at her with pleading eyes, hoping you’d be left off for just this once.
“Oh, puppy, of course, you do! You can comply to everything I say like a good little mutt, or you can endorse a punishment like a bad, bad pup.” You eyed the cage in the corner of the room, already feeling the harsh metal aching on your skin. You imagined the pain it would cause to your sensitive bones.
“So, you choose: would you like to be Daddy’s good girl and listen, or would you like to be a naughty baby, hm?” You shook your head with a sniffle, blinking away the tears that she helped to wipe away. She grinned when noticing your sadness, it seemed to thrill her to a great extent.
“I’ll be good, Daddy, I will. Please don’t put me back in the room, I want to stay with you!” She hummed in response, stroking your cheek before smacking it lightly.
“That’s what I thought, puppy.”
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383 notes · View notes
0cta9on · 3 months
Text
Unlikely Duet - 5
length: +5k words
Genre: Fluff
NewJeans Minji x Male Reader (OC)
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【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★
Yuno’s POV
The light patter of the rain was a reminder of how this all started. A chance encounter, a gut feeling, a gesture of kindness, all of these different choices were woven into the fabric of fate and led me here - eating dinner with Minji and her rich (and terrifying) parents. No matter how I twisted it, this is not at all how I thought I would spend my friday. 
“The rain is getting bad out there. I’m so glad we caught you before you went out in the rain, we would hate for a friend of Minji’s to get sick,” Minji’s mom remarked, her warm, motherly smile concealing something that set off alarms in my head. I kept my guard up, no matter what.
Minji sat next to me, a worried expression painted on her face. She hasn’t said anything since discovering the blood stain on my sleeve from my altercation with Tyler. I wanted to say something to her, anything, but it was impossible in this tense atmosphere. The guilt of not being able to tell her the truth was eating me up inside.
“Dinner is served. Eat as much as you like, dear,” Ms. Kim says, gesturing to the food she had set on the table. An array of different side dishes I had never seen before surrounded a large roasted fish adorned with sauce and vegetables. My stomach grumbled at the sight. It was more food than I had ever seen in my entire life, and it didn’t help that I was also starving from not eating anything the entire day. Without thinking, I quickly grabbed a little bit of everything and piled it onto my plate. Right as I was about to dig in, I noticed the shocked expressions of Minji’s parents.
“S-sorry… I-I’m hungry,” I stuttered sheepishly, earning a small chuckle from Minji. I felt the heat cover my face as her parents got their food, taking much smaller portions than I had. Right as I pick up the spoon to my lips, Mr. Kim clears his throat.
“So, Yuno,” he begins, focusing his gaze on me. “How long have you been friends with our daughter? Minji never mentioned you before.” 
Regretfully, I place down my spoon as I think of an appropriate response. “Uhh, we’ve been friends for…” I turn to look at Minji, hoping to find an answer, but her eyes are glued to her plate as if she’s lost in thought. “Three days. We’ve been friends for three days.”
Mr. Kim’s eyebrow rises slightly in surprise. “Really? And how did you two end up meeting?”
I gulped, my mind going back to the circumstances of our first meeting. Sure, I’ll tell one of my only friend’s parents that I met her in the detention room after beating someone up to the point of hospitalization. They’ll totally love me after that, right? Thankfully, I have an easy out due to Minji’s lie from earlier.
“We got partnered together for science class,” I state, trying my best to sound confident. Mr. Kim narrows his eyes as he studies my expression. I stare back, not wanting to show weakness in front of him. 
“What do your parents do for work?” he asks. The questions were starting to feel a bit too personal, but I would rather not risk going against him.
“My dad works the night shift as a security guard,” I responded. Despite seeing him passed out drunk everyday, he somehow managed to maintain his job all these years. Either that or he never bothered to tell me he got fired.
“And your mom?”
“She’s, uhh…” I glance at Minji for a brief moment, hesitating to answer. “She’s dead.” The room falls silent as each member of the Kim family looks back at me with a mix of shock and sympathy on their faces.
“I-I’m sorry to hear that, dear,” Ms. Kim says, her intimidating demeanor replaced with genuine compassion.
I shrug in response. “It’s fine, it was a couple years ago. I’m okay now.” I stare down at my plate, unable to look any of them in the eye. Truthfully, I was never completely okay with my mother’s death, but what was I supposed to do? Cry in front of them?
Mr. Kim opens his mouth to say something, but his wife stops him. “Honey, you should let him eat,” she says in a stern tone. Mr. Kim relented, and a sense of relief washed over me as I was silently grateful for her intervention. Not only was the onslaught of questions exhausting to face, but I was also still hungry. The rest of the dinner was spent in silence, aside from the clinking of silverware against porcelain and the rhythmic downpour outside.
______________________________________________________________
I lean back in my chair, completely stuffed. Every single bite of food had more flavor than I’ve ever had in my entire lifetime. As intimidating as Minji’s parents were, they were also amazing cooks. I peer outside and notice that the rain had stopped. Taking my chance, I stand up and excuse myself from the table.
“Thank you for the meal, but I should really get going now.” Before they had a chance to respond, I swiftly exit the room, grabbing my backpack. Right as I reach the front door, Minji’s voice calls out to me.
“Wait!” she exclaims, trailing after me. “I’ll walk you home.” I give her a confused look as she turns to her parents. “It’ll give us a chance to talk about the project some more. Just like you say, every second counts.”
Mr. Kim contemplates for a moment before nodding. “Alright then. Be careful, and don’t be out too late. Your mother and I want to talk to you once you get back.”
Minji follows me outside and shuts the door behind us, releasing a long sigh as she leans against the wall. “That was soooooooooo stressful. I’m sorry you had to go through all that, Yuno.”
I chuckle lightly, joining her on the wall. “It’s alright. I’ve survived worse.” We stood together in silence for a while, the chilly evening air gracing our faces, infused with the lingering scent of rain. Minji is the first to break the silence as she turns to me, a look of sadness in her eyes.
“I’m sorry about your mom. I had no idea she was…” Her voice trailed off as she avoided saying “the word”.
“It’s okay, Minji. Really.” I give her a reassuring look as we both head start walking towards my house, the gentle moonlight guiding our path. 
“She died in a hospital fire three years ago,” I began, my voice carrying the weight of the past. Minji looks up at me, listening intently. “She was a nurse. Very caring and loved helping people. Even as the building was burning all around her, she spent the last moments of her life helping people.” I fall quiet as my gaze falls to the ground in contemplation.
“Yuno…” Minji reaches out and pats my shoulder reassuringly. “I’m so sorry.”
My legs freeze in place as I turn to look at her. The chorus of chirping crickets and the subtle howl of the evening wind created a backdrop as I met Minji's saddened eyes. What was she apologizing for? The fire wasn’t her fault. It was an act of fate, a cruel twist beyond anyone’s control. Some higher power up there decided that my mother’s life would be cut short, whether I liked it or not. There was nothing I could do about it.
“Minji…” I call out her name as I unravel my sleeve, revealing the blood stain. “I got into another fight. Tyler McGraw.” I did my best to keep a straight face, but my heart was thumping with anxiety. “He was beating up a freshm… He was beating up my friend. I couldn’t control myself. I’m sorry.”
Fate has a sick and twisted way of working. It brings people together, and tears people apart. Any single one of us could drop dead without a single warning if it willed it. Our entire lives we spend making decisions that we think will matter in the end, but at the snap of a finger, all those efforts could be in vain. Yet, here I stood, disclosing my vulnerabilities to the person I expected the least. Whether this is a blessing or a curse is yet to be seen, and I’ll be damned if I don’t see this until the end.
Minji’s expression shifted from sadness to disappointment to confusion as her mind processed the information. I could do nothing but stand there, vulnerable and exposed as I awaited her response. 
She lets out a heavy sigh. “How is your friend?” she asks, her gaze fixated on the ground. Her disappointed tone felt like a knife stabbing through my heart.
“He’s okay, I think. Your friend with the glasses helped us out.”
“Danielle?” she says, looking up at me with a surprised look before clearing her throat. “Well, that’s good. What about Tyler?”
I scratched my head, averting my gaze as I searched for the right words. “He’s uhhh… He’ll be out for a few days. Maybe a week. Or two,” I admitted sheepishly. Minji pinched the bridge of her nose as I stood there like a child who was caught red handed. 
“You were just… protecting your friend. I’m not gonna fault you for that,” she says, pushing past me. I was left in shock at her unexpected understanding. “What are you standing around for? I said I’d walk you home. Come on.”
I pick my jaw up off the ground and catch up to her, leading the way to my house. We spend the rest of the walk in silence, tension hanging in the air. I stole a couple glances at her, but I couldn’t read her expression at all. Is she mad? Disappointed? All of the above? Before I knew it, we were face to face with my front door.
“This is my house,” I say bluntly.
“Okay. Bye,” Minji says with an unusual coldness, turning to leave. 
“W-wait,” I stammer, calling out to her.
She turns around, her expression blank and unreadable. “What?”
“Are we… still friends?” I cringed, feeling a pang of embarrassment at the vulnerability of the question. Minji chuckles in response, a genuine smile gracing her face for the first time in a while.
“Yes, we’re still friends, silly.” The tension in the air dissipated and my heart felt as light as a feather as a sigh of relief escapes my lips. “You’re a good person, Yuno. I just wish you would stop getting into trouble.”
“Cool. Um, good night, Minji.” I wave awkwardly at her as she leaves. “U-uh, get home safe!”
Minji giggles, the sweet sound  of her voice echoing through the air. “Good night, Yuno!” Her smile imprinted itself into my brain as I watched her silhouette fade into the night. 
I’m greeted by the dark and desolate state of my living room as I enter my house, but all of it fades away as an unfamiliar feeling of elation stirs in my chest. I trudged to my bedroom and collapsed onto my bed, the events of the evening taking their toll on me. Meeting Minji’s parents was exhausting, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t happy that she considered me as a friend. As my eyelids slowly flutter shut, visions of Minji flashed through my head, invading my dreams.
______________________________________________________________
Minji’s POV
As I walk through the door, I see my parents sitting on the couch waiting for me. I gulp as a steady tension fills the air.
“Minji. Have a seat dear, your father and I want to talk to you,” my mom says in a serious tone. A thousand thoughts fill my mind as I wonder what they could possibly want to talk about.
My dad clears his throat, his eyes meeting mine. “This Yuno boy… We don’t want you hanging around him.”
I felt my heart drop in my chest. “W-what? Why?”
“He seems… sweet, but we don’t think he’ll be of any benefit to you in the future,” my mom explains. “Once you two are done with your science project, we want you to cut all contact with him.”
A mix of anger, confusion, and sorrow welled within me. “B-but-”
“No buts, Minji. You should be grateful that we still let you talk to Hanni,” my dad interrupts. “If you want to be successful in life, you must surround yourself with those that are like minded. Frankly, I don’t see that boy amounting to anything.”
I tried to argue, but my voice got caught in my throat. It would have been pointless anyways since they never listened. Without another word, I stormed upstairs to my room.
“Minji!” I ignored my father’s calls as I slammed my bedroom door behind me before collapsing onto my bed. Why were they always like this? Why couldn’t I just be friends with anyone? Tears welled in my eyes as I pulled out my phone, calling Hanni. After just one ring, she picks up.
“Hey girl, looks like you got your phone back, I wonder who gave it to you,” she answered, giggling.
“Hi Hanni…”
“Oh no, what happened?” she asked, her tone shifting as she noticed the sadness in mine.
“I’m just so… frustrated with my parents. It hasn’t even been a full day since they’ve been back, yet I’m already so exhausted.” I snuggled with my bear plush, hoping it would make all my problems go away.
“I’m so sorry, Minj. Do you wanna talk about it?”
I let out a heavy sigh. “Not really. I’d rather forget all about it.”
“Hey, I have an idea! Why don’t we go to the fair tomorrow with the girls? You’ve been stressed enough with all the prom junk, you deserve to have a break.” she suggested.
“Ehhh, I’m not sure, Hanni. I would love to, but I’m not sure if my parents would let me go.” 
“Girl, just tell them you’re going to the library with Dani to study. They’ll have to say yes!”
I hesitated for a moment, contemplating the pros and cons. On one hand, my parents would absolutely kill me if they found out, but on the other hand, a break does sound nice. For the past couple months, my life has been nothing but school work, studying, student council meetings, and prom preparations. I’ve rarely had any time to just have fun. Steeling my nerves, I made up my mind.
“Okay. Let’s do it then,” I say, my heartbeat quickening with excitement and anxiety.
“WOOOOOO!!!” Hanni cheered through the phone. “We’ll pick you up at three, you better be ready by then.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at her elation. “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow then. Good night, Hanni.”
“Good night, girllllll.”
I hang up the phone, placing it on my night stand before falling onto my pillow with a sigh. Tomorrow would be fun for sure, but what about after that? What if my parents found out that I lied to them and went to the fair? Would I be able to live with the consequences? I shake my head, trying to dispel the worries from my mind. Regardless of what will happen afterwards, I was determined to have fun and mess around for one day. 
______________________________________________________________
Yuno’s POV
I jolt awake from an aching pain shooting down my back. My body had gotten so used to sleeping at Minji’s house that I forgot how shitty my own mattress was. Heading downstairs, I’m surprised to see my father not only completely conscious, but he was also cooking breakfast. And it smelled amazing.
“Uh, hey dad,” I grumbled, half-convinced I was in a dream.
He startles, almost as if he was surprised to see me. “Yuno. M-morning,” he stuttered nervously. “U-uh, why don’t you have a seat? I cooked up some breakfast.”
My hunger trumps my confusion as my legs carry me to the table, adorned with a traditional breakfast of eggs, bacon, and pancakes. I quickly dug into the feast, almost choking on a piece of bacon in the process.
“Slow down there,” my dad chuckles lightly. “I guess I haven’t been doing a great job of feeding you, huh.” The gloom and regret in his tone were palpable while his eyes were fixated to the floor, avoiding mine. 
I pause mid-bite to look up at him. “It’s fine. I managed.”
“It’s not fine.” Anger tinges his voice, directed more at himself than anyone else. “S-sorry, I just… I should’ve been taking care of you. Your mother’s death was hard on both of us, but that’s not an excuse for me to neglect you. I want- No, I need to make things right, Yuno. Will you ever forgive me for being a terrible father?”
A flood of emotions overwhelms me, freezing my body in its wake. After my mom died three years ago, my father turned to alcohol to numb the pain. I never blamed him for it; she was a bright light in both of our lives and her absence left us completely shattered. 
I gulped, suppressing the swirl of emotions bubbling within me. “Y-yeah, dad. I forgive you.”
A smile grows on his face - the first time I’ve seen him smile in years. “Thank you, son. I promise I’ll be here for you from now on.” A strange choking feeling constricts my throat as tears begin to well within my eyes. I rise from the table, turning my head away. 
“Where are you going?” my dad asks. “You should eat some more if you're hungry.”
“U-uh, I just remembered, I uh have plans with some friends today,” I lied impulsively. I’m not sure why I lied, but all I knew is that I needed to get out of the house.
“Friends? That’s great, Yuno. Go out and have fun, don’t worry about me.” The smile that grew on his face only made me feel worse about lying. I quickly grab a hoodie and $20 from my room, not bothering to change out of my sweatpants. Right before I leave through the front door, I turn to my dad, who’s washing the dishes.
“Bye, dad,” I called out to him, a memory of my five year old self doing the same thing flickering in my mind.
“Bye, Yuno. I’ll see you later,” he waves as I close the front door behind me.
My dad sobering up after all these years is a great thing. I should be happy for him. Yet, I couldn’t knock this strange feeling in the back of my head. I took a deep breath in, hoping the cool morning air would help clear my mind. The sun casts its warmth on my face as I begin walking aimlessly. With no plan in mind, I decided to head to the convenience store.
The familiar jingle of the convenience store door chimes as I step inside, the pungent scent of cooking hotdogs assaulting my senses.
“Good morning, welcome to- Yuno!” Winter greets me with a mop in her hand, her demeanor much more upbeat than what I’m used to seeing from her.
“Oh, hey. Didn’t know you were working today.”
“I’m just filling in for one of my coworkers who’s out sick. Are you looking for anything in particular? We just restocked on the ramen you got last time,” she offered.
I hesitated, contemplating the answer myself. “No thanks. I just needed to get out of the house.”
“Are you alright, Yuno? Did something happen?”
“No? I don’t know, I’m all conf-”
“YUNO!!”
A short figure appears out of nowhere and attempts to tackle me from the side. My instincts kick in, allowing me to dodge the attack and grab the back of the assailant’s collar.
“Who the fuck-” My eyes widen in shock as I see that my attacker is none other than Yujin. A white medical eyepatch covers his black eye, but the rest of the wounds on his face seemed to have healed overnight. “Yujin? What are you doing here?”
“He came to visit me at work,” Winter answers, mopping the floor. “It’s been a bit slow this morning, so he offered to come hang out until my shift ends.”
“Yeah, I even told her all about your epic battle with Tyler!” Yujin says, beaming up at me. I release my grip on the back of his shirt as my cheeks burn slightly from embarrassment.
“It wasn’t epic, it was… Whatever. Where the hell is the ramen?” I groan as I drag my feet towards the ramen aisle. 
______________________________________________________________
The three of us sit at a table in front of the store, enjoying the gentle breeze. Warm, spicy ramen broth slides down my throat as I finish the bowl.
“It’s such a nice day outside,” Winter comments. Her eyes are shut with contentment as she leans against the table.
“We should all do something fun since the weather is so nice!” Yujin suggests, his eyes beaming with excitement. 
With no actual plans for the day, I had no choice but to agree. “Sure. Why the hell not.”
Winter nodded in agreement. “Where do you guys wanna go?”
My mind went blank. I have no idea what people do for fun, let alone these two. When was the last time I had fun anyways? 
Yujin hopped out of his seat, a twinkle of elation in his smile. “We can go to the fair! It’s been forever since I last went. What do you guys think?”
I scratched my head in contemplation. It’s not how I imagined spending my weekend, but my life hasn’t exactly been predictable as of late. The fair did sound… intriguing. “Okay. I’m down.”
“M-me too,” Winter added. “I haven’t been to the fair since I was seven. I wonder if they still sell those chocolate chip cookies I used to love.” As if on cue, her stomach loudly grumbled. I couldn’t help but chuckle as her cheeks grew pink with embarrassment. A group of students walked past us, entering the store.
“I-I should get back to work now. I’ll text you guys when I’m done,” Winter said before disappearing into the store. 
“We’ll see you later, Winter!” Yujin called out to her before turning back to me. “Hey Yuno, what’s your number? I’ll make a groupchat with the three of us.”
“Don’t bother. I don’t have a phone,” I said before walking off. Yujin followed closely behind me, bewilderment painted on his face.
“What?! What do you mean you don’t have a phone?! How do you even live?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Never needed one,” I answered simply. It was the truth - up until now I had no one to text or call. Social media seemed like a waste of time and my dad was always too drunk to wonder where I was when I went out. 
“That’s crazy. Let’s stop by my house real quick, I can lend you my old phone,” Yujin says.
“You don’t need to do tha-”
“You helped me out twice, alright? This is the only way I can repay you, so just take it.” There was an adamance in his voice that made it difficult for me to refuse.
I relented with a sigh. “Fine. Lead the way.” Yujin grinned at me before pulling me in the opposite direction towards his house. The bright rays of the sun washed over us, filling me with a sense of calm. With how weird the last couple of days have been, it felt nice to be outside.
“By the way, my grandma doesn’t speak much English, but I can translate for you. I don’t bring friends over often, so she’ll probably want to talk your ear off,” Yujin says, chuckling to himself.
“That’s fine. What about your parents? I ask rather bluntly. His expression darkens, sending a pang of guilt into my chest. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
“It’s okay, Yuno,” Yujin reassures me. “I lived with my parents back when I was still attending my old school. I wanted to stay with them, but they thought it was best for me to live with my grandma after they found out how bad I was being bullied. They would freak out if they ever found out I was being bullied here too…” His gaze fell to the floor and his shoulders slouched, his usual vibrant energy dissipating in front of my eyes. Feeling guilty, I place a hand on his shoulder supportively.
“Don’t worry about it. No one’s gonna mess with you anymore.” I awkwardly patted Yujin on the back, hoping it would cheer him up even a little bit. Thankfully, it ended up working as his frown was replaced with a small yet hopeful grin.
“Thanks, Yuno. I think my parents would like you.” I kept my mouth shut, grappling with the uncertainty of whether Yujin’s parents would like their son hanging around with someone who kicks the shit out of bullies just because he can. We soon arrived in front of Yujin’s house, which was similar to all the houses in the neighborhood, save for the pair of rocking chairs decorating the front porch. 
“Before my grandpa died, my grandma and him would sit in those chairs to watch the sunrise together. That’s kinda cute, don’t you think?” Yujin’s words hung in the air as he unlocked the door. I could only offer a nod as my understanding of romance and the like was nonexistent. 
Upon stepping into his home, we were immediately greeted by Yujin’s grandmother, resting in a large reclining chair. The two of them exchange words in a language I can’t recognize, and Yujin says something makes his grandma smile.
“Grandma said that you’re very tall and handsome,” he says, chuckling. A rush of warmth tinges my cheeks, caught off guard by the unexpected compliment.
“O-oh, uh, tell her I said thanks. I guess.” Yujin relays my message, triggering a bout of laughter from his grandma that eventually transforms into a coughing fit.
“Yujin, are you back alre- Oh jeez.” Danielle suddenly rounds the corner, carrying a saucer with a cup of tea balancing on top of it. Her casual attire of a simple yellow t-shirt and jeans was a far cry from the cold aura she normally exuded in her school uniform. She places the cup of tea on the table next to Yujin’s grandma before turning her attention back to me. 
“Yuno. Hello,” she greets, glaring at me through her glasses. I nod back, bewildered by her presence in Yujin’s home.
“Danielle and her mom are helping me take care of grandma. They’ve been really helpful ever since yesterday.” A genuine smile illuminated Yujin’s face, inadvertently softening Danielle’s expression. It immediately hardened as her gaze went back to me. “I just stopped by to give Yuno my old phone to borrow since he doesn’t have one of his own. Isn’t that crazy?” he explains to Danielle.
She scrutinized my expression with steely eyes, sending chills down my spine. Minji’s parents may have been scary, but Danielle was a completely different beast. “You’re just giving it to him? He’s not, I don’t know, threatening you to give it to him?” she interrogates. I instinctively rolled my eyes at her words while Yujin simply laughed it off.
“It’s the least I could do to repay him for…” He gestures to his eyepatch, cautiously glancing at his grandma, who drifted off to sleep without anyone of us noticing. Yujin’s phone suddenly buzzes in his pocket, revealing a text from Winter. “We should hurry, Winter’s shift is ending soon. Come on, Yuno!” he says before running up the stairs. I quickly follow behind him, not wanting to be left alone with Danielle.
Yujin’s room is the epitome of a stereotypical geek’s paradise. The walls are lined with a colorful variety of superhero posters, accompanied by some drawings he had done himself. On the far side of the room, a shelf is filled to the brim with action figures, fake weapons, and a single first place trophy for a “Junior Art Competition”. His desk is the complete opposite of Minji’s, half-finished drawings, eraser shavings, and colored pencils scattered along its surface.
“Sorry about the mess, I would’ve cleaned up if I knew you would be coming over,” Yujin says as he rummages through a drawer on his desk, pulling out a phone. “Here. It’s not much, but you’ll be able to call and text people, and you can download some games on there if you want.”
 It was smaller and less impressive than most phones I’ve seen people carry, but I couldn’t complain. It was better than anything I’ve had before (which was nothing).  “Thanks,” I utter as I take the phone from his hands. “I’ll, uh, keep it safe.”
Yujin chuckles as he leaves his room. As we reach the bottom of the stairs, he suddenly stops. “Oh shoot, I should probably give you the charger too,” he says before darting back to his room. I turn around to wait for him in the living room, only to find Yujin’s grandma beckoning me with a wrinkly hand. As if I was in a trance, I suddenly started inching towards her, like a snake being hypnotized by a flute. She muttered in my ear in perfect english: “Please take care of Yujin.” Her message was plain and simple, yet I was still filled with questions. Before I could ask any, however, she was already fast asleep. I was starting to wonder whether or not I imagined the whole interaction.
“What are you doing?” Danielle asks from across the room. Somehow, I failed to notice her presence this entire time.
“N-nothing, she just… Sorry,” I stutter awkwardly. With impeccable timing, Yujin appears from the stairs with a phone charger in hand, saving me from this awkward situation.
“Here you go, Yuno. We should head out now, Winter oughta be done with her shift by now,’ he says. “Bye, Danielle!”
Danielle waves at Yujin as we leave, shooting one final glare directed at me right as the door closes. I inspected his old phone, turning it around in my hand. Aside from a couple essential apps, it was completely bare bones, and even the lock screen was nothing but a plain blue rectangle.
“I should probably add your number to the group chat now, huh,” Yujin says, pulling out his phone. After a brief moment, I feel the phone vibrate in my hand with an audible buzz. A notification on the phone reads, “You have been added to a group chat!” 
“There you go! If you ever need to talk to either of us, just send a message and one of us is bound to answer!” He flashes me a wide toothy grin that I silently snicker at. A vivid memory of my childhood suddenly plays in my mind - a timid only child playing with his imaginary siblings. I never brought it up with my mother when she was alive, but I always wanted a younger sibling to play with and take care of. That want manifested itself into an imaginary younger brother that played with me when no other kid would. Of course I’ve long outgrown that phase by now, but something about Yujin is eerily similar to the imaginary younger brother I had before. Or maybe I’ve finally gone insane.
“So.. the fair. What’s it like?” I ask him.
“What?! You’ve never been to the fair before either?! How on earth are you even alive right now?!” Yujin exclaims, his eyes growing wide with disbelief. “As your friend, it’s my job to ensure that you have a fun day at the fair. Now let’s hurry up, Winter is probably waiting for us.” He grabs my arm and pulls me forward, running to the convenience store. A small grin grows on my face as the wind blows past my ears.
______________________________________________________________
“Are you two ready?” Winter asks us as she steps out of the convenience store. She’s dressed in a flowery sundress with a forest green cardigan layered over the top, a contrast to her plain work uniform.
“Yup, we’re all ready! I got some extra cash for the subway,’ Yujin says.
“Subway?” I ask. My hand shoots into my pocket, fingering the $15 I have left and regretting my decision to buy ramen that morning. 
“Don’t worry about the subway, we can just use my metrocard,” Winter says, pulling out a shiny plastic card from her purse. I let out a sigh of relief, although I can’t help but feel bad for not being able to pay for myself.
“Alright, let’s hurry before the lines get too long!” Yujin skips ahead of us with the excitement of a child bringing home a new toy, eliciting a giggle from Winter. 
The sun flashes its light into my eyes, casting its warm glow on my skin. A light fluttering fills my heart with each step, and for the first time in years, I felt hopeful for what the day would bring.
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Note
helloo! I just saw your Valentine's Day event and was wondering if I can request for a milk chocolate no.17 with sanji? thank you in advance and hope you're having a nice day!! 💖
... I went over 1000 words again...
I decided to make this one vanilla, I hope you like it!
Sanji x GN!Reader
1.3k words
Prompt:
I don’t deserve you, but I want you. Is that so wrong?
Sanji being doting was hardly unheard of, it was seemingly in his blood. Lately, however, it had been borderline excessive. It was normal for you to receive an extra treat or drink when Sanji was serving meals and snacks, but now you were on the receiving end of some special treatment. Rather than getting a share of what everyone else was having, he was making food specifically, and only, for you. 
Admittedly, it had taken you a while to notice the behavior, with Luffy being the one to call attention to it when he realized that you had gotten extra food. Naturally, he’d wrapped himself around Sanji while loudly demanding some, too. 
Sanji had yelled at him that he literally just ate and not every single thing that comes out of the kitchen needs to go to him, but it was a losing battle. Resulting in Sanji having to abandon the conversation you two had been having to make your bottomless pit of a captain something to eat lest he “starve to death”. The bickering had been funny, but you couldn’t help but dwell on the fact that Sanji had gone out of his way to make something just for you.
It made you feel special, though you couldn’t be sure why he suddenly started doing this. Before he began acting this way, he’d been borderline avoidant of you for a while. What had changed?
The doting had only ramped up from there. Every time the ship docked at a populated island he would come back to the ship with a gift for you, and that was excluding the instances where he’d talked you into exploring the town with him. On those occasions, he’d bought you numerous gifts if you so much as looked at something for too long. Any attempt to dissuade him would be shot down with him insisting that you deserved it and he wouldn’t be discouraged. 
On top of that, he’d been awfully touchy. If you were walking together, he’d insist that you hold his arm so that “you don’t get separated”. Whenever you were in close quarters, he’d take any opportunity to brush up against you. When he would pass behind you, he would place his hand on your lower back. Again, not abnormal in and of itself, but the frequency of his touches was noticeably higher than it usually would be.
If this was anyone else, you would easily come to the conclusion that this person was crushing on you hard. But, with Sanji, it was harder to determine that. He was a chronic flirt, at what point could his actions truly be considered unusual? Was this a serious interest he was taking in you, or was simply being extra nice to you because you were all crewmates? Without a full on confession, you felt stuck in a will-he-won’t-he limbo. What you wouldn’t give to guarantee that this would end on the ‘will he’ side.
All of this led you to tonight. Sanji had invited you to come taste test some new dishes. You aren’t sure why he insisted on doing this in the middle of the night, but who were you to question a culinary genius?
But the most likely answer was that he was praying Luffy would be asleep and wouldn’t disturb you two this time.
Dim lights are shining under the door as you make your way to the kitchen. The sound of dishes clanking against the table could be heard from the hallway. Before the door was even open, several delicious aromas flooded your senses. Oh, you were definitely going to enjoy this taste test.
You quietly slip into the kitchen and are a little surprised at what you see. You’ve been present for Sanji’s food experimentation before, and never before did it come with a beautifully set table and candles. Rather than a collection of miscellaneous dishes, there were only two plates on the table sitting opposite from each other.
Sanji was standing at the kitchen counter adding the finishing touches to a decadent looking cake, and he was so focused on icing it perfectly that he had yet to notice that you were here already.
For the most part, barring a couple of fashion atrocities, Sanji liked to dress well, but he looked especially refined right now. He’d ditched his typical three piece suit, instead settling for some black dress pants and a silk shirt that was only buttoned up half way. The rolled up sleeves accentuated his defined forearms, making them downright difficult to tear your eyes away from.
Needless to say, you were feeling painfully underdressed in your pajamas. What can you say? You thought this was about to be a glorified midnight snack session, not a candlelit dinner.
Before you could attempt to sneak out and put on literally anything else, Sanji finally saw you. He tensed, likely surprised that you got the drop on him, but quickly recovered and turned to face you properly. He smiled so warmly that it distracted you from your previous embarrassment.
“You’re here! I’m glad, I was worried you might change your mind,” he averted his eyes, and there was a noticeable red tint to his face. 
“I would never pass up on an opportunity to try some more of your food.” Doing so would be simply insane. You scratched the back of your neck as you glanced down at your pajamas again, “So, uh… Should I go change? This looks like it might be a bit more than a taste test.”
“No!” Sanji all but shouted, only to backpedal into a softer tone, “No, you don’t have to do that. I think you look breathtaking.”
You decided to internally agree to disagree on that point. Though you couldn’t help but notice how he neglected to confirm or deny that this invitation was for something more than what he initially said it was.
Sanji took the cigarette he’d been smoking and snuffed it out in an ashtray before approaching you directly. Once he was in front of you, he hesitated for only a moment before taking your hands in his. Your heart rate increases as you begin to think you know where this is going. Was this actually happening? Is he going to confess?
“I don’t deserve you, but I want you. Is that so wrong?” The words were spoken so softly that you wondered if you heard him right. He continued, “I know that I’ve said things to this affect countless times before, but I’m not saying this just for the sake of flattering you. I mean it. Even if it is wrong and selfish, I can’t go on denying the truth. I love you.”
The gray-blue eye that had been locked onto your intertwined hands drifted up to your own eyes. Many emotions hung onto his every micro-expression. Fear. Adoration. Distress. Relief. Trepidation. Excitement. A dominant emotion ebbed into all of them. Love.
There wasn’t a doubt in your mind as to whether or not he meant it. You felt like he’d all but bared his soul to you, and he probably would do just that if he could. Every word of that was true, you knew it.
This was an intensely romantic moment. Ideally, you should maintain the atmosphere by responding in kind with your own touching confession.
Unfortunately, the excitement from him admitting his feelings may have fried your brain. Instead of carefully chosen words, you launched yourself at Sanji, wrapping your arms around him and pressing an almost frantic kiss against his lips.
The force of the action made both of you lose your footing and collapse into a heap on the ground. You pull away, worried that you may have hurt him. For a moment he just stares ahead with a blank, shocked look on his face. Then it morphs into a grin and- literal hearts appear in his eyes?
And then it’s his turn to all but attack you with a kiss of his own. You’re pretty sure he’s completely forgotten about the dinner.
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therightrighthand · 6 months
Text
Delgoth - Psyker of the Imperium
𝐈 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮…
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...𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐦
A Psyker born into a life of toxicity and pollution, who's ambition and power brought her too close to the sun, and caused her to fall far from grace and into the claws of darker powers.
---
Darktide Arc.
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0-7 Child: Born on the factory planet Arkwright, Delgoth was put to work at a filtration plant, helping move grime and pollution.
8-18 Worker: It took 12 long years of hand-scrubbing toxic pollution out of industrial equipment before her Psyker powers started to show. As soon as they did, she was ratted out and quickly shipped away. Unlike many others, Delgoth was fortunate to be found by an Inquisitor who saw potential in personal training rather than sending her to a Black Ship to try and outlast her kin.
19-30 Inquisition: Showing natural promise and Psyker talent, Delgoth was taken to the Inquisition to undergo intense training under the watchful of the Inquisition and to one day join them as a weapon against heresy.
31-33 Prisoner: After a mission turned sour, leading to most of her team being slaughtered by a Demonhost, Delgoth was spared and left to run, going AWOL from her duty in an act of survival. In the end, she outed herself and returned to the Inquisition to face her guilt, only to spend three years under intense interrogation and 'purification' before being sentenced to death on the golden throne of the Emperor.
34 Reject: After her transport ship was attacked by Nurgle cultists, a set of unusual circumstances led her to The Morningstar. After her valiant aid, she was offered a choice: face her execution with honour or live in shame on the Morningstar, cleaning up Atoma Prime's underbelly. She chooses shame.
35 Reinstated: After earning the trust of the ship's inquisitor, it was revealed to her that her imprisonment and time on the Morningstar had all been planned. It was a deception to push her abilities and skills further, 'tough her up', and earn her Inquisitive position on the ship—a new role ripe with fresh seeds of anger...
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Chaos Arc.
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35 Betrayal: Anger and frustration began to fester. She felt like a fool being played and toyed with by the Inquisition, but what fueled her anger most was the insight she got from her time on Atoma Prime.
She saw how citizens were demonised and threatened for simply wanting to survive in a cruel world. Her anger allowed the taint of chaos to seep into the back of her mind. This led to a sudden outburst of violence and the unprovoked murder of an inquisitor during a private meeting as it all came to a head. All Delogth could do was flee to the Underhive of Atoma Prime and hope she would not be found.
36 Metamorphosis: After her fall from grace Delogth struggled in the Underhive. Without food, shelter or safety, she withered, but it was only at her lowest that she was granted a gift... Approached in a catatonic hallucination by a mysterious figure, Delgoth was offered the opportunity to play host to a new god, The Fathomless, The Son of Nurgle and the parasite god of decay, pollution and new life. How could she refuse?
By the chaos gods' graces, Delgoth awoke the following night in the generous care of the Benevolent Hand, a cult of chaos worshipers who'd found her starving to death in the filtration tunnels. Discovered by Jeremechy, a cultist whom she'd helped not long ago Delgoth was offered a sanctuary and home out of the kindness of their hearts, asking nothing in return, the truest nobility she'd once believed to be something the Imperium once stood for.
Over time, as her Psyker powers became more apparent, Delgoth was worshipped as a religious figure due to her connections to the Warp. Esepcially as her body began to physically change and mutate beyond her control, as the parasite started to grow ... and rebuild her her body, like a moth evolving in a cacoon.
37 Rebirth: After a year of incubation and growth, the parasite infecting Delgoth's body had completed its work and rebuilt what was broken; she and it were now one, and the power of the warp flowed through it, and her, like water through a stream. Her body wasn't just physically stronger, but her Pysker abilities had become fearsome to behold.
Among cultist groups, she had begun to embrace the role of a messiah, protecting the weak, spreading the good word of Nurgle, and tainting the lower levels with a toxic substance known as 'Blight'. Those who embraced Chaos and the Fathomless learned to live with Blight by growing immune, whilst non-believers suffered toxic poisoning or starvation of what little organic material wasn't tainted.
41-45 The Fathomless Blight: While becoming a religious figure appeased Nurgle and their offspring, voices from distant futures beckoned Delgoth to widen her ambition and share her gifts with the stars. During this period, Delgoth's body began to produce more parasites and use them to connect the minds of willing participants in a hive mind level of control. This became the beginning of her new army, The Fathomless Blight.
Piecing together fragments of the Imperium's tech and a few rotting corpses from fallen Astartes, Delgoth used her vast power to lead an army off of Atoma, and into the wider galaxy. They did not travel through ships but rather through oceans and seas, wading into the water on one side of the galaxy and out into another where chaos was most prominent. They were small, but they were formidable.
46 Eldritch Lord: The gods had truly smiled upon Delgoth, as each victor in her crusade brought her more power and allies to her hive-mind army. They infected oceans, corrupted landscapes, and attacked from the murky depths where the Imperium could not defend itself quick enough. For every planet that drowned in blight, millions would fall under her sway and become part of her infested trawl as the Fathomless Blight rose to power. With it, so did she as her body became to the Parasite's changes, as an Alpha level Psyker and an equivalent to some sort of Edlrtich Demon Prince.
Some tell tales that her reach is endless, that she can appear behind you in the death of night, silently lurching out of the water and taking you away in your sleep.
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Whilst others tell tales of a small pollution scrubber, who fell from grace.
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Now Delgoth lurks on the fridge of Imperium space doing Nurgles bidding, but occasionally, she turns her sights past the walls of reality and the echoes of other worlds, other universes.
... other 'Del's...
-- Find my discord and other sites: linktr.ee/The_red_right_hand Do not use, repost or claim (rp) my art/character  Art © The-Red-Right-Hand
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kpopnstarwars · 6 days
Text
Stray: Lee Dokyeom x Cat Hybrid!Reader
A/N: so there are a lot of hybrid AUs out there where the members are the hybrids but it got me thinking about dk with cat hybrid reader (i heard dk was allergic but dw i got it covered)
tw: 18+ because of eventual smut, swearing, hybrids are not treated well by society, a bit of trauma from reader being treated badly, reader doesn't have a home or food at the beginning, reader is extremely emotionally repressed whoops, mentions of death + starving, not really slow burn it's just long and has weird pacing because i refuse to cut out some bits, dk is a huge ball of sunshine, it starts off waffly but gets sm better i promise, cheating and breakup (not dk and reader),
wc: 11.7k (oops)
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you'd had your dealings with humans, and most weren't pleasant
as a hybrid, you didn't fully belong with cats or humans
the latter often thought you were inferior, and treated you as much
you find your fully cat form is much more agreeable to your human form with ears - it feels less obvious that way, even though normal cats can smell that you're a hybrid
still, the world isn't kind, and you don't have a home
you'd stood up for yourself at your last job - a secretary in a huge office block - pointing out that you got a much lower salary than the comparable human employees, and had been promptly fired
briefly, a human couple had taken you in, but once they realised you were a hybrid, they kicked you out
which leaves you where you are now, wishing that you were just one or the other and not both
the winter is especially harsh this year, and your soft coat, matted from too many days on the streets, doesn't do much to keep out the cold
the wind is cutting, and you find yourself slinking through the back gardens of some low rise flats, wondering if anyone will spot you and think you're just a stray cat
you can't believe you're stooping this low, but you'd rather this than death by frostbite
like hell you're just going to give up now
it's not like you'd stay permanently without the home owners knowing you're a hybrid, anyway - you know how that ended last time
the muffled sound of laughter floats towards you, and you scale a fence, following the noises until you make your way into a rather overgrown garden
warm light spills through the glass doors, and you curl up on the patio, at the edge of the beam cast by the full kitchen
by full, you mean full
there must be over ten guys in there, all crammed shoulder to shoulder around the dining table, laughing raucously
they're all human, from what you can tell
you can feel a bit of the warmth seeping out from the miniature crack under the door, but before you dare inch forward, further into the light, one of them turns around
he's got a sweet face, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he laughs at one of his friend's jokes
the hackles on your back rise as you feel his gaze on you
you've learnt that when humans smile it doesn't always mean they're good people
retreating quickly, you find yourself thankful for the crowded garden, slinking behind a bush to get out of sight
you immediately feel the lack of warmth, the laughter more muffled from here
for some reason, an empty feeling wells up inside you, like you lost something
like you strayed from the path of your destiny
but deep inside you, the survival instincts tug you away from the warm kitchen and the warm smiles
those instincts haven't failed you yet, so why would they fail you now?
however, despite your so called survival instincts, you find yourself in the same garden a week later
again
you'd visited a few times, but they didn't really count, because all you did was peer furtively over the fence, ears swivelling vigilantly
you'd caught sight of the guy who spotted you before, peering outside and frowning
you assume he's the one who owns the bottom floor flat
you hope he was wondering if he should get his garden in order, because if he was, you whole heartedly agree - you almost poked yourself on the brambles a few times
right now, the Guy is washing up, his sleeves rolled up and his hair a bit of a mess, elbow deep in the soapy sink water
his glasses keep falling down his nose
the kitchen lights are on - it's almost dark, and the night's chill is creeping further into your bones
it's been so long since you've been inside that you find indoor lights kind of... mesmerising
it might seem strange, but you almost crave the fake yellow light the light bulbs give off
the Guy suddenly stops washing up and you almost fall off the back fence that you're perched on, thinking he's seen you
then he bobs his head in time to a beat you can't hear while busting out some quite respectable dance moves, and you realise he's just listening to music
it must be some pretty good music - now he's singing, and you can hear it faintly
wow, he's good
he also looks pretty engrossed
that's your queue; you jump down from the back fence, your paws pattering against the frosty patio as you approach
there's something that always draws you back here
and it's not just because of the warm air radiating from his badly insulated flat
still, you're wary - he might seem friendly, and you might feel a certain pull towards him, but that doesn't mean anything
lots of things have felt right that weren't
you're not making any mistakes this time
you're tired of being mistreated because you're a hybrid, and tired of being seen as a pet and not a person
never mind if this ends with the Guy feeding you caviar some cats could only dream of, if he looks at you funny, you're not going to even set foot in his mess of a garden again
with that thought, you curl up beside the glass door, happy to bask in the lingering warmth from the kitchen and enjoy the artificial light
turning your head, you peer at the Guy over the lip of the door
his shoulders are turned in your general direction, but he's looking studiously at the dishes in the sink, shimmying his shoulders and tapping his foot along to the rhythm of the music, so you decide to stay a little longer
that's when the grey clouds coalescing above you decide to start snowing
you feel the fur on your sides fluff up in response, and you wrap your tail around your paws, edging an inch closer to the door
the air is bitingly cold, and you wonder if you'll make it through the night if the snow settles
you haven't eaten a real meal in ages, and you're suddenly aware that it means your poor little cat body has even less insulation
you're certain that if you don't find shelter soon, tonight will be your last
but do you really want to seek help from some random human?
it's ended badly before, but you know it could have ended worse
you won't let that happen again
abruptly, you stand up, tail lashing in irritation at yourself - like hell you're going to come crawling into some human's home, ears pinned back like you need their help
it's not your fault you were born a fucking hybrid
you're halfway down the patio when a warm gust of air blasts down your spine
you wonder if hallucinating heat is an early symptom of hypothermia but continue resolutely making your way towards the back fence
'hey,'
you whip around, a snarl half forming on your face in shock, but it's just the Guy
he leans in the doorway, a smile on his face and his eyes sparkling
'you can come in, if you want.'
the warmth coming from inside his flat is absolute bliss
you're a metre away from the open door, but you can feel your bones defrosting, and you know however hard you try, you can't leave now
not now that he's offered
not when his kind smile triggers not zero, but minus one alarm bells in your head
you approach but hesitate, knowing you're being too quick to give in - he doesn't know you're a hybrid, and you don't know if he's secretly evil and plans to skin you as soon as you step through the door
just to be safe, you stop just out of kicking distance, staring up at him quizzically
surely, he wouldn't voluntarily let a hybrid into his house - you're much more expensive to look after than pets, because you'd basically be another human in the house who can't earn enough to pay bills
you're considering backing out, even with that delicious heat emnating from his kitchen, when he moves to the side so you have a clear path in
your eyes widen a little
you feel like he's being too nice
he laughs a little at your indecision, squatting down so he looks smaller and less intimidating
'come on. i know it must be way too cold out there. i'll let you out whenever you want to leave, if that's what you want.'
that's the final straw
you step over the threshold and bolt
you're not even sure where you're going, but you swerve away from a room where there are clothes strewn over a chair and the desk filled with clutter - that's definitely his bedroom
the only other room that isn't the bathroom or the kitchen is a dusty room full of cardboard boxes and a bed with no sheets on it
a guest room, you assume
flattening yourself against the floor, you crawl under the bed
quickly, you tuck yourself behind one of the boxes which had been artfully stuffed underneath the bed
once you're settled, it occurs to you that that was frankly rude of you
the Guy let you into his flat, and the first thing you do is sprint past him and invade his guest room
but then again, he probably thinks you're just some feral cat who he saved from becoming a feline icicle, so your behaviour would make sense
you tense when you hear footsteps pass the door, but he doesn't come in, just walks into what you assume is the bathroom
a few minutes later, you hear the shower turn on, and you relax a little more
maybe he'll let you be for now
curling your tail over your nose to stop yourself from snorting in the ridiculous amounts of dust under the bed, you wedge yourself further behind the box and close your eyes
it's amazingly warm in the Guy's flat, you'll give him that
warm enough that despite the hunger that's been gnawing at your stomach for the past week, you find yourself falling into a sleep deeper than you've been able to reach for ages
you'll get to sorting out the details of your little invasion of his flat in the morning
for now, you're happy to sleep
when you wake up, he's gone
understandably, though - he must work pretty hard to afford a nice-ish flat like this, and it is also twelve noon
unfortunately, he doesn't appear to have any cat flaps, so that means you'll have to momentarily shift into your very naked human form to let yourself out the back door
you wonder if you should check in his fridge if he's got anything to eat, but then you decide against it - he's already given you a place to stay for the night, no need to eat his food as well
ignoring the call of the fridge and the shower, you pad over to the back door, pausing when you see something propped against the glass
it's a little whiteboard, and as you approach, you make out the writing
it's got 'hi, i'm dokyeom, dk for short :D' written across the top, with a little flow chart beneath
it starts with two options: 'are you a hybrid' with a box for ticking under 'yes' and 'no'
under the option for 'no', it says 'i'll buy cat food' and under 'yes', it says 'there are spare clothes in the guest room and towels in the bathroom (both clean, don't worry), help yourself to anything in the fridge'
you sit down on your haunches, shocked
so he did consider that you could be a hybrid?
and he's alright with it?
plus, he managed to leave clothes in the room you were sleeping in, and you didn't wake up?
maybe your instincts aren't as good as you thought
or maybe your body thought you were safe last night - safe enough to not wake you up when the Guy (dokyeom, you've learnt from the mini whiteboard) came in
you cock your head, staring at the whiteboard for a few moments longer before making your decision
honestly, it's not hard to choose
you make your way to the bathroom, already eagerly anticipating a shower
sure enough, he's left a towel on the rail, and you're quick to hop into the shower, shifting into your human form and turning up the heat high
it's strange to be out of your cat form, your body suddenly seeming too large and ungainly, your senses immediately dulled
but in a way, it's also freeing - you haven't been able to be like this in ages, as clothes unfortunately don't shift with you from cat to human form
you feel more real this way
that's the problem: you can't exist as just one or another, both animal and human are part of your soul, your essence - you can't just pretend that one half of you doesn't exist
eventually, you drag yourself out of the shower
you're aware that he might have limited hot water, and what kind of guest would you be if you used it up before he even got a chance to get home?
wrapping the towel around you, you slip into the guest room to put on the clothes he'd left there
it's a pair of black tracksuit bottoms, a large white t-shirt and a grey hoodie, all obviously his
even in your human form, you can smell the mixed scents on his clothes
there's the fresh smell of clean laundry, a hint of aftershave, and his own unique scent: you can't quite put your finger on it, but it feels... cosy
it's a smell that's all over his house, actually
barefoot, you enter the kitchen again, scooping the whiteboard off the floor so you can write on it
you tick the box under 'yes'
underneath that, you write a quick note:
'thanks for letting me stay. i'll be out of your hair in no time, i just needed somewhere for the night. you're very kind, dk. thank you so much :))'
signing your name and setting the whiteboard down on the counter on the way to the fridge, you rummage around, wondering what you can cook
you're pleasantly surprised - the contents of his fridge aren't awful, and although they could be organised a little better, it's thankfully not full of expired ready meals or anything like that
feeling better than you've felt in ages, you wander around his kitchen until you find his rice cooker, and then you get cooking
you're absolutely ravenous, but you make sure to make enough for him too - he's been unnecessarily kind to you, this is the best you can do for him
you're just finished washing up your dishes when your instincts prickle
it's a sensation that happens a lot when you're in your human form - it means that your cat form would be picking up something that your human senses are too dull to detect
rushing back to the bedroom, you slip out of the clothes he laid out for you, hastily folding them before shifting back to your cat form
logically, you have no reason to fear
he's been nothing but kind to you, but he's still a human
and humans aren't always as nice as they seem
you feel so much more secure in your cat form - smaller, faster, better at avoiding sticky situations, better at surviving
your ears twitch as you hear a key scrape in the lock
that must be him - dk
you stand indecisively in the middle of the guest room, your claws sinking unconsciously into the carpet before you hastily retract them
by then, he's toed his shoes off and is in the kitchen
you hear a soft 'oh'
he's probably found the whiteboard on the counter, moved from where he left it, and the dinner you cooked for him
he calls your name then, and you almost jump out of your skin before you remember you wrote it on the whiteboard
feeling far too nervous, you trot out into the corridor, nudging the kitchen door open before entering
he's right there, leaning against the counter, his smiling eyes bright as he looks down at you
this is the first time you've really seen him, really realised you let your guard down and allowed some random guy to let you into his house
he looks absolutely huge
like, he could crush your cat form in his bare hands if he wanted to you, although you realise that's not that great of a feat considering your small stature
he would also tower over your human form, but then again, that's not much of an achievment
still, it makes you take a small step back
humans have unquestioned power over hybrids - you're pretty sure if he killed you right here and now, no one would know or care
and if someone did know, the case would be as likely to make it to court as you are likely to become a billionare next week
your hackles begin to rise, and you mentally run through your escape options
unfortunately, none avoid you shifting into your naked human form, even if it's just for a few seconds
you're beginning to panic
a lot
but then, he crouches down, just like last night
slowly, keeping his movements predictable, he reaches his hand out towards you
'i won't hurt you,'
you relax just a tiny bit, ears twitching, waiting to see what he'll say next
'promise.'
of their own accord, your hackles lower, and you find yourself inching towards his outstretched hand
'you don't have to leave, you know. it would be nice to have some company. plus, i don't want to make assumptions, but i'd rather not let you go if you have nowhere else to stay.'
part of your brain wonders why he's being so nice
the other part, the part that you've shoved down for so long, surfaces like a long lost ache, reminding you how lonely you are, reminding you how much you miss simple human interaction
dipping your head forward, you sniff at his broad palm, before lightly licking his fingertips
he chuckles, albeit a little nervously, as if he's scared you're going to bolt at any second (to be fair, if you were him, you wouldn't write off that option either)
his other hand comes up to rub behind your ears, and your eyes close at the feeling
the beginnings of a purr start to form in your chest, and you know that's when your fate is sealed
the permanence of that thought unsettles you
pulling away, you head towards the radiator, settling close to it, glad that your cat form means that you don't have to talk to him
he grins brightly at you, picking up the plate you left on the counter and putting it in the microwave for warming up
'thanks for the dinner, but you know you don't owe me anything, right?'
you blink up at him from your spot on the floor
he's literally the kindest human you've ever met
then again, you haven't met very many kind humans
that night you sleep curled up on the sofa - it's much more comfortable than wedged underneath a bed, and his cushions smell nice
in the morning, you hear dk get up, but he tip toes around quietly
cracking an eye open, you yawn, eyes blinking into focus as you watch him quickly scribble on the whiteboard, his brow furrowed in concentration
he glances your way, and for some reason, it shoots a bolt of panic through you, and you duck your head back down, closing your eyes
it's not that he's threatening - quite the opposite
it's just that you're not used to this; not used to being in such close proximity with another being for prolonged periods of time, not used to interaction with humans after avoiding them for your own sake for so long
you hear some shuffling, the sound of the fridge door, and then his footsteps approach
as he walks past, he brushes a hand lightly down the soft fur of your back, as if in greeting
you almost twitch at the feeling
you wonder how long it's been since you've let anyone come that close
not daring to move a hair, you wait until you hear him ease the front door shut
the second he's gone, you jump up, eager to see what he wrote on the whiteboard
it's on the counter, so you shift into your human form and put on some clothes - you're not sure what his rules about paws on tables are
there's a fresh t-shirt on the guest room bed, but you opt to wear the one you wore yesterday
a smile plays on your lips as you read what he wrote
it's a short but sweet message extolling the virtues of your cooking and telling you to help yourself to the fridge again, followed by a question asking if what food you would like and whether you prefer cat food
still grinning, you write your reply, explaining how you can eat both human and cat food and how you love tuna in either form, adding a short shopping list of ingredients and asking how his day was
once you're done, you decide to explore his flat properly
it consists of two bathrooms, two bedrooms, a tiny room with a washing machine and various bits and bobs crammed inside, and the kitchen which sort of melds with the living room (if you could call the couch and TV in one corner a living room)
you spend most of your time snooping around his bedroom, just to sate your curiosity
it's not neat, but it's not messy either, and the smell of him is strongest in there
you're sure his desk should be buckling under the combined weight of his pc and the impressive amount of paraphanalia that's collected upon it
it's not that it's dirty - it's actually pretty orderly, there's just... a lot of stuff
there's a mug full of pens which says 'dude kisser' on it (you're not going to question that one), a haphazard stack of books - the top one of which has a fuzzy bookmark sticking out, a pile of mismatching keycaps, a group photo of dk and twelve other guys with moustaches and other flattering things lovingly drawn on, and tons more stuff you couldn't explain even if you tried
the chair has a lot of clothes draped over it: nice, comfy clothes, like the ones he's lended you
you're tempted to explore further into his room, but you feel kind of rude so you scuttle back to the kitchen/living room to make the happy discovery that he owns a nintendo switch
that means he probably has some more complicated games lurking around but you're happy to settle with mario kart for now
it's not something you've played before, although you've heard some of your human ex-colleagues talking about it
by the time dk returns, though, you're a pro
well, maybe not a pro, but not inept, either
by then you've made dinner and left it out for him like yesterday - you feel kind of weird doing nothing but playing video games while he goes to work, and at least cooking for him makes you feel a little useful and not like some awful parasite taking advantage of him
he tells you about his day as he eats at the dinner table while you sit in cat form on the chair next to him
he smiles the whole time, and you find yourself relaxed and content, infected by his happy virus
once he's done with his debrief, he unthinkingly asks how your day was
you look at him and give him your best deadpan meow
he laughs and you find it a bit dazzling - he hands away smiles as if they're free, and honestly it kind of restores your faith in humanity
'what if you blink twice for yes and once for no? how about that?'
you blink twice at him
dk grins, his eyes lighting up; he's so excited you can almost imagine him clapping his hands and kicking his legs like an enthusiastic little kid
'do you like pineapple on pizza? is it wrong to wear socks and sandals? how about socks in bed? are tomatoes a fruit? is it right to have toilet paper over? or do you like it under?'
he bombards you with random yes or no questions, each one getting weirder than the last, but you find his delight in your answers is more than enough to let him continue
after about half an hour, he either runs out of questions or decides to spare you, asking instead whether you want to watch a movie
that's how you end up curled up on the sofa beside him
he'd insisted on a horror movie, even though you'd said no, very clearly blinking only once
you would leave but you think it's kind of entertaining how bad the makeup and plot are and how violent his reactions are (they consist of a lot of flailing and terrified squeaks)
despite your reluctance to watch a horror movie, he's actually more scared than you are
the poor thing is tense as anything, his mouth hanging half open as he stares wide eyed at the tv, transfixed
you're actually too busy watching him that when the jump scare pops up on screen, you jump about a foot high, landing hissing on his lap with your tail all fluffed up
your claws accidentally come out and prick him through his jeans and he yelps
'ouch - shit - ow - '
you hop off his lap and watch him dramatically curse and pretend to be wounded, both of you distracted from the movie now
eventually he calms down and goes back to watching, but not before he picks you up and plops you back on his lap, one hand anxiously smoothing down your back as you both wait for the next jump scare
after a while he goes so far as to pick you up and hold you to his chest, hiding his face in your fur every time the music warningly crescendos, whispering to you how utterly terrified he is
even still, his grip stays loose enough for you to move away at any time if you want
you'd think that after your previous experiences with humans, you'd hate him anywhere near you, but you don't
you don't mind it at all
it's kind of ridiculous actually, the way you feel safer than you have in months when he clutches you to him while watching a literal horror movie
you don't think much of it though
he's just a guy who's letting you stay for a bit
you don't plan to stick around
a week later, you find yourself writing an apology on the whiteboard that you'd been putting off since watching the movie
dk is welcoming and warm and friendly but you're sure he must be wondering why you haven't shifted into your human form yet
sometimes, you wonder that yourself - there's something in his eyes that instantly puts you at ease
the day before yesterday, you'd planned it, changing into your clothes - his clothes, and sitting on the sofa, ready to greet him, but the moment you heard his footsteps up to the front door, you just couldn't
your cat form still feels so much safer, even though you have nothing to fear
well, apart from all the explaining you'd have to do once you shift into a form with a tongue that can talk
you don't want to see the pity that would spring into his eyes, or worse, disgust
you're scared of the change it will bring
you're scared to let your walls down
you're scared to bare the soft, vulnerable part of your heart
clenching your teeth, you force yourself to relax, the marker in your hand shaking from how hard your fingers had been clenching around it
you lean against the counter for a while, writing messages then rubbing them out, needing to tell him why but also terrified of what he'll say
solitude has been your only companion for so long, you find that you don't have the words to express what you feel
you don't know how to tell him how you hadn't realised how lonely you were until he let you in
you don't know how to articulate the warm feeling inside you when he smiles at you, as if he doesn't care whether you're a human or a hybrid - because he doesn't
you don't know how to say how eternally grateful you are to him for finding something soft and gentle and innocent within you that you thought you lost years ago
in the end, you decide to keep it short, an apology that feels more like an excuse, but it's the best you can give him
sure, you don't plan to stay here with him forever, but you owe it to him anyway
your restless for the remainder of the day, pacing around the flat and the garden for a little too, tail lashing agitatedly
you've almost convinced yourself to go and rub out your message completely when you hear the front door open and dk comes in, calling out that he's home
peeking around the corner, you see him down the hallway but he doesn't spot you
he's got a strange look on his face, one you can't decipher yet, and there's a flowery scent on him that you've smelled only one time before
you wait just out of sight, not wanting to see his face as he reads
slowly, you venture out, feeling far more nervous than you should be
he sits down on the floor opposite you as soon as he spots you, signalling for you to do the same by patting the spot in front of him
you sink down on your haunches and curl your tail over your feet, nerves a tight ball in your chest
'you don't have to shift if you don't want to.'
the words immediately give you space to breathe, and you feel kind of silly for being so worked up about it all day
'i know hybrids aren't treated well at all, and i'm okay with whatever form you feel most comfortable in, you know? you can shift when you're ready, and whether that's tomorrow or in a decade or never, that's fine. you don't owe me anything.'
your chest feels tight at the earnesty of his words, and you know that if you were in your human form right now, tears would be welling up in your eyes
getting up, you close the gap between the two of you and rest your shoulder against his knee, needing to show your gratitude, needing to be closer to him
he rests his wide palm on your back, a silent assurance
'it's nice to have you here. i used to share with a bunch of my friends - the ones coming over tonight that i told you about this morning, actually - and sometimes it gets lonely in a flat all by myself. i like talking with you.'
you meow, nuzzling against his other hand as he lifts it to stroke the silky spot between your ears
it's amazing, how simple his words are but how he can use them so well, articulating how he feels so boldly
he smiles down at you and you look back up at him, leaning against his hand before he gets up, groaning and cracking his back
his friends will be here soon
he'd warned you this morning, informing you they were noisy but harmless and that if you didn't want to see them, you could hole up in the guest room
they're the first people he's had over since your first night in his flat, and you feel kind of nervous about so many humans, but dk will be there, and you're determined to at least attempt to meet them
anyways, if they're all anywhere close to him, you'll have no problems
still, you stay in the guest room, ears twitching with each arrival
they laugh and chat, their voices carrying through the flat as they jokingly rib each other
occasionally, they have a little karaoke break where they all stop talking to sing along to the song playing on dk's speaker
then there'll be peals of laughter that follow, usually after an exaggerated falsetto note or a scuffling noise which you assume is dancing
it's after their laughter dies down a little when you finally whip up the courage to approach
poking your head into the kitchen, you peer in
there's twelve of them, not including dk, all sitting around the dining table, an array of soju bottles and mainly empty takeaway boxes arranged around them
you're pretty sure they're the same group that you saw the first time you found yourself in dk's garden
one of them spots you in the doorway, and he grins, leaning with his elbows on his knees and opening his palms to you
cautiously, you trot over to him, and he scoops you up, tickling your chin
one of dk's friends across the table gapes at you - he's a bit more drunk than the others (or he holds his liquor less well), and the guy you're sitting on chuckles at his expression
'dk, you got a cat?'
that's the drunk one speaking, his speech a little slurred as his eyes well up with tears
he's a sad drunk, it seems
'dk, you're a dad - '
dk scratches the back of his neck, watching his friend sniffle
'well, hoshi, not a dad, but - '
the guy still holding you adjusts you in his grasp, letting you catch the thoughtful frown on his face
'why didn't you tell us? i thought you were al - '
he's cut off by a sassy looking guy
'jun, just because you want to have a baby shower for a cat doesn't mean all the rest of us do.'
this causes absolute chaos, and the one holding you - jun - lets you down on the floor so he can stand up in order to argue with the sassy guy about the benefits of cat baby shower
navigating your way through the mess of legs under the table, you make your way over to dk
he grins and rubs the spot behind your ears, and you lick his palm before someone grabs you around the middle and cuddles you
you hear dk telling the boys to be careful and it warms your heart a little that he's still looking out for you
he doesn't need to be worried, though
dk's friends are as sweet as he is
you sit with the boys for the rest of the evening
they all leave eventually, trickling out in ones and twos
the last one left is the one they call cheol - he seems to be the protector of the group, and he makes sure dk is alright and helps him clear up a little before he leaves too
once he's out of the door, dk crouches down in front of you
'you okay?'
you blink twice and he grins
'they can be pretty overwhelming and noisy at first, but they're my best friends.'
there's pride shining in his eyes, and you can't help but agree with him - despite their banter, you could tell that they care so much for each other, and for him
'i didn't know whether you wanted them to know you were a hybrid or not, i hope you don't mind that,'
you blink twice again, meowing and padding forward to rub against his shins
you're not quite sure what makes you do that, what primal part of you tells you to put your scent on him, but he chuckles, smile as bright as the sun as always
he scratches at the spot behind your ear and you purr, leaning your head into his touch
'oh - '
you look up, the wonder on his face making it seem like he just made you sprout wings and flash neon
it's cute that he's so proud that he's made you purr
it's been a few months since you first started staying with dk, long enough for the two of you to have a little routine
you cook and clean and generally try to make yourself as helpful as you can around his house while he's at work
he'll write a message for you on the whiteboard every morning, and you'll write your reply during the day
you always come out to greet him at the front door, no matter what
then he'll eat the dinner you made and answer your whiteboard message
from then on, you'll watch a movie with him or just chat
your communication has become easier - sometimes, he'll get his laptop out and you'll type what you're saying, but recently he's gotten scarily good at reading your body language
and no, you still have not worked up the courage to shift into human form yet
you're studiously ignoring the fact that the longer you leave it, the harder it gets
you're also ignoring your previously stated intentions of not staying
you know that this can't go on forever, and even if dk can understand you to an extent, that's not enough and you cost him extra water bills and food
you know he's too kind to bring it up but it eats away at you inside
you're happy to remain blind to the fact that you can't have a proper conversation with him until you shift into human form for now
you tell yourself that you'll deal with it later, whenever later is
another thing that you refuse to acknowledge is your feelings
your fear that you won't be good enough if or when you show him your human form, your fear that you're a dead weight, and worst of all, the growing realisation that he's stupidly fucking handsome
you'd realised but you hadn't realised until one day, after he got back from the gym
his skin had been covered in a light sheen of sweat, and he told you he was going to shower before eating
you'd kind of just blinked at him, too entranced by the amount of skin his tank top was showing
like, what does this guy not have?
he took a little longer than normal in the shower - you heard him absolutely belting out the lyrics to some ballad you'd never heard before, so you trotted down the hallway to listen more closely
and then the door to the bathroom popped open, along with a billow of steam and a delicious lee dokyeom
there was a towel around his hips, low enough to make your stomach twist, and the water rolled down the planes of his chest in a way that made you want to shift into your human form right then and there, just to wrestle that towel off him and kiss him until you ran out of breath
instead, you yowled and jumped about a foot in the air
he just laughed, running a hand through his wet hair to push it out of his eyes before crouching down, telling you he didn't mean to scare you
you meowed and kept your eyes on his face, not on the gap that had opened in the towel due to his bent knees, and definitely not on the wonderful sliver of tanned thigh that showed
the image of dk, damp and glorious under the tinny light of his bathroom, cloaked in steam, often circles around your mind to this day
and it's not just that either - he's also funny and kind and sweet and you feel yourself drowning in his eyes when you look at him too long
just as a reminder: cats do not like water
let alone drowning
the sound of footsteps on the pavement outside dk's front door shake you from your thoughts
there's clearly two people, and you hear dk's voice as the key scrapes in the lock
he's speaking in a tone you've never heard before, low and emotionally charged, like he's angry
you peek into the hallway as the front door opens
dk steps in, followed by a girl you've never seen before, but her scent matches that flowery scent you've smelt on dk a few times before
something sinks inside you
you didn't think he had a girlfriend, which now, in hindsight, seems like a really, really stupid assumption
he's handsome and kind and considerate with a smile brighter than the sun
but then you notice something else - the obvious frown on dk's face
there's a sort of tension in the air, crackling and heavy, like a storm's brewing and there are dark clouds swarming above
she ignores it, instead spotting you and immediately crouching and patting her thighs to try and entice you over as dk shucks off his shoes, face like thunder
she says something to him in an airy voice about him not telling her he had a cat
he shrugs, not mentioning that you're a hybrid and staying silent, which kind of alarms you, because the dk you know is friendly, warm - even when he's angry, it's always firey, nothing like the frigid detachedness in his eyes right now
cautiously, you approach, not really sure what to expect - you're sure she's his girlfriend; now you think about it, you did hear dk's friends discuss it briefly, you just didn't understand at the time
she reaches out to stroke your back, but it brings the cuff of her oversized leather coat near your face
you get a smothering whiff of heavy, masculine cologne that you know is not hers and is definitely not dk's
there's no hint of aftershave, no smell of fresh laundry, and not even a trace of that scent on him that makes you feel warm and comfy
and if this isn't her coat, and it's not dk's, then who's is it?
cheater
hissing, you recoil, your hackles up as you swipe at her hand with your claws out before she can lay a finger on you
you're kind of taken aback by the violence of your own reaction - the tension in the air must be getting to you, too
'oh. it doesn't like me much, you're sure it's not one of those hybrids, right?'
dk's frown deepens into a scowl you've never even seen a hint of on his face, his eyes flashing, filled with something absolutely livid
'let's talk in the kitchen.'
he doesn't even look at her when he says it, and as he turns to go, you can see how hard he's clenching his jaw
you head to the guest room to give them privacy while dk's girlfriend slinks after him
even across the apartment, you can hear too well
it's partly your enhanced cat hearing and partly that new timbre in dk's voice - he's not yelling, nowhere close, but his words carry through the walls
it's the angriest you've ever heard him
you've seen him angry before; frustrated, annoyed, down right incensed, but it always passes quickly, the sun breaking through the clouds with ease - dk doesn't hold grudges
you catch 'cheating' from his sentence, and then suddenly, his girlfriend raises her voice, like she's the one who should be angry, screaming that she doesn't get why he's so worked up over this
that's the exact moment where you want to march into the kitchen and fucking injure her, somehow
punching her in human form would be preferable but you'd be down to claw her eyes out in cat form too
who is she, to cheat on dk, the kindest man alive, then tell him it's nothing? tell him she doesn't know why he's worried?
she doesn't know what she's taking for granted, and she's a fool for that
plus, from what you can hear, he's being half as angry as he really deserves to be, anyway
you sit there in a tense, seething ball of rage, protective and furious on dk's behalf until he puts his foot down
his voice is quieter, more subdued, but he's moved to the kitchen door and you hear him clearly
'get out.'
mentally, you pump your fist in triumph - he should have kicked her out the moment she had the audacity to tell him he shouldn't be getting so worked up about her cheating
in fact, he should have never have let her in in the first place
you hear her screech something over her shoulder about breaking up, as if that wasn't already obvious
honestly, you're kind of embarrassed on her behalf
she should be winning awards for how far her head is up her own ass
dk shuts the door behind her
he doesn't even slam it, just eases it closed like he always does and plods to his room
you hear the rustle of the blankets as he slumps down on the bed, hear the shaky sigh he lets out, and then the heavy silence
you get up and go to his room - the door is ajar, so you peek in
you don't go in; he has every reason to want to be alone, so you hover in the doorway
he lifts his head up and gives you a valiant smile
he looks exhausted
you hop up onto the bed and wait, not wanting to crowd him if he doesn't want contact, but he picks you up and sets you on his chest
you can tell he's fighting with his words as he formulates something to say to you
he stares up at the ceiling, avoiding your eyes until he covers his own with his arm, hiding the upper half of his face in the crook of his elbow
'i found out she was cheating this morning, but i'd suspected it for a while before. i wanted to talk it through with her, give her a chance, you know?'
he squirms and you realise your claws are coming out and poking his chest so you withdraw them and attempt to relax
'she told me i was overreacting, and... yeah. i guess i should have listened to my mum. she's always right.'
he laughs, but it's a loose, raw sound that echoes weakly around the room, and he still won't look at you or uncover his eyes
there's a moment of silence, thick and suffocating with heartache
a sob wrenches from his chest
it's a sharp, painful sound, like he's been holding it in for hours
the floodgates open
dk covers his face with trembling hands, tears leaking out from under his palms
you never thought seeing someone else cry would hurt this much
nudging his hand with your nose, you let him hold you close, rubbing your cheek against his and gently lapping the tears off his face, even as they soak your fur
you feel helpless, like the pieces of his heart are in your hands and you don't know how to fit them back together
he just clings to you, eyes tight shut as his sobs begin to subside
you stay there with him, wishing you could do more as he hides his face in your fur and hugs you close to him
you don't know what that girl was thinking when she decided to cheat on dk
actually, she probably wasn't thinking at all
you kind of want to tell him he's too kind and trusting for his own good, but you know that even if dk was capable of not being like that, he would choose to be the way he is
his hand strokes down your back, and you watch him from where you rest your head on his collarbone
he's staring at the ceiling, and although his eyes are red and a bit puffy and he's sniffling, his crying has subsided a little
dk props himself up on his elbows and gives you a sad smile
'sorry about that. and thanks, too, i - i needed that.'
you huff, tail flicking and smacking against his abdomen - as if he needs to be sorry
nuzzling into the hand he brings up to rub your head, you lick his palm, nudging it with your nose
then you hop off the bed and wait for him to follow you into the kitchen so he eats his dinner
you don't take your eyes off him, not even when he goes to sleep
you curl up in the corner, happy to sleep on the carpet, but he pats the mattress next to him and you can't refuse
it's nice, to sleep beside dk, his body warm and near as he reaches across the bed to run his hand down the fur of your spine and beckon you closer
over the next months, you watch dk heal
you help him heal, too
at least, you hope you do
you make sure to stick close to him
you've slept curled up at the foot of his bed every night since the day of the break up
he calls his mum the day after, and a few of his friends too
he stays strong and determinedly brave in front of the boys, not shedding a tear, but he cries on the phone to his mum
he also cries over a few emotionally fraught kdramas during the first week before you sit on the remote and refuse to move until he chooses another genre
truth be told, you were getting kind of sick of the same plot with different characters, and the pile of tissues on the coffee table in front of the sofa was growing frighteningly large
exactly a month has passed since the break up when, over his dinner, dk announces to you that he's finally installing cat flaps for you
he also mentions that he wants to introduce you to his friends properly, as who you are
the latter comment kind of makes you nervous
his friends are some of the most welcoming, commendable men you've ever interacted with, but a niggling part of your brain wonders if they'll be more sceptical than dk
what if they tell him you're taking advantage of him?
or that you're just a hybrid and don't deserve the kindness he's giving you?
because after all these months with dk, you realised you're not just staying for the roof over your head or the warm meals
you're staying because of dk
you care about him
a lot
not just because you're sort of a little bit hopelessly in love with him, but also because he's kind of... your best friend
he's so sweet and silly and and considerate and funny it makes you want to punch a wall sometimes
you'd protect him with your life
you don't really know how to say it to him, though
there's nothing more you can do in the house, and the words don't seem right on the whiteboard
you wait out the hours until he gets back from work, doing chores around the house or out exploring the neighbourhood through the newly installed cat flap in the back door
or singing in the shower, like you are now
dk's bathroom has very good acoustics
it means you can belt your heart out, happily knowing that dk won't be home for another few hours
you're singing one of the songs dk's friends had been singing the other night
it's kind of sad but also kind of a hoe anthem and the chorus has something about not understanding something - you don't remember the rest of the lyrics
it has a good tune, though, and your own singing combined with the splashing of the shower seals you off from the outside world
which means that when dk gets home early, you don't hear
originally, the only explanation for a female voice coming from his bathroom that he can think of is his ex, but that's dumb because she never had a key in the first place
also, her voice can't even compare to yours
because it is you, he realises
it's you in the shower right now, oblivious to the fact he's home early and is hearing your voice for the first time ever
a little bolt of nervous energy shoots through him, and he panics
what's he supposed to do? should he shout that he's home?
he decides he doesn't want to scare you just in case you panic, so he approaches slowly, hoping to knock on the door and let you know
he soaks up the sound of your voice, a smile playing on his lips, because of course you sound amazing
he's about to knock on the door when the handle turns
wait is all he gets out before suddenly, there you are, right in front of him, wrapped in a towel, cat ears peaking out from your hair that's dripping onto the tiled floor
his brain freezes
shit, you're pretty
you gape at dk
you didn't even hear him come in, let alone him walking down the hallway
this is probably karma from that one time you saw him fresh out of the shower
you'd known that it was inevitable for him to see you in human form at some point, whether it was intentional or not
you just didn't expect it to be so soon, and definitely not like this
oh no
he didn't hear your singing, did he?
instinctively, your hand comes up to make sure the towel around your chest is secure
you're seconds away from shifting and running, but you're rooted to the spot, paralysed by his eyes on you
he blinks a little, as if he's coming to his senses
'...hey,'
that's all he says, his voice soft and wondrous, his eyes sparkling the way they always do, sweet and inviting as the smile pulling at his lips
'hi,'
unfortunately for you, it comes out half strangled and breathy, but a grin immediately appears on his face, his eyes scrunching with happiness
he hasn't looked away once, gaze roving over your face as if he's committing you to memory, and you feel a hot blush begin to creep over you
'i, uh, let me go change.'
you scurry back into the bathroom, almost tripping over the bathmat as you shuck on a shirt and trousers, small tremors going through your hands
you tell yourself it's fine
because it is fine - you're not scared of dk, you trust him, it' just... you should have shifted for him ages ago
placing your hand on the door handle, you take a deep breath
turning back to the mirror, you hastily fix your hair before biting the bullet and opening the door
dk waits outside, leaning against the wall, still smiling
when you peek out, half hiding behind the door, his grin widens, and he opens his arms
you barely need to think, your body just moves, and then he's got you tight in his embrace, your nose pressed into his chest: just like that, any semblance of unease or self consciousness you were feeling evaporates like the space between you
slowly, you breathe in, then out
he smells like he always does - laundry, aftershave, and the scent that you've begun to associate with home
you sigh, resting your forehead on his chest so you don't have to look at him when you speak
'well, that wasn't so hard for me, was it?'
he laughs, eyes dancing, and with that, everything is back to normal
it doesn't matter which form you're in, it's still dk, and it's still you
you talk to him for ages - first over dinner, and then the two of you move to the couch, losing track of time as you fill him in, answering every question he fires your way
his sincerity makes your heart flutter: he clings onto your every word as if it's precious
in the end, you wind up telling him how you got to the situation you were in before
you lay yourself bare, letting your walls down for him to see the scars on your soul
you're not sure when the tears pricking at your eyes spill over, but dk wipes them away gently, spreading his arms for the second time tonight, letting you soak the front of his hoodie with your tears
he tucks your head against his shoulder, his hand rubbing up and down your back the way he always does
his heartbeat is comforting under your ear
you fall asleep like that, held safely in dk's embrace
things continue as normal, even with your human form revealed
you realise how stupid you were for worrying so much about things changing when you shifted into your human form
you talked to dk about how you feel like a burden, how although he doesn't mind, you don't like relying on him to pay the bills, and how you want to get a job
he reassured you that it was fine but after seeing the look of determination on your face, he realised there was no point in opposing you
so he pulls some strings (more like cheol pulls some strings) to get you a part time job in the local library
it's just three days a week, but the important thing is that you get paid and treated the same as any human would
your boss is a little old lady with very thick reading glasses
she bakes you cakes sometimes, and once she's fed you a slice or two, she forces you to take the rest home
it's not anything like your old job, but neither would you want it to be
it doesn't pay your bills either, but it's a happy compromise
dk claims that coming home every day to a meal that you cooked is worth the money of those bills a hundred times over, anyway
you also officially meet his friends
they're sweet, a bit noisy and chaotic at first, but they make sure to keep you included in the conversation despite all the private jokes that they seem to have
they act a bit like a huge family unit (they bicker like brothers)
despite their closeness with each other, it doesn't push you away
they didn't even care that you were a hybrid
you caught a knowing look pass between the one called joshua and the one called jeonghan when dk introduced you, but you're not really sure what it could have been about
you were probably just imagining it, to be honest
anyways, aside from occasionally attending their boys nights (on demand, they always clamour for you to join them), the little routine you and dk made is still very much the same
you still cook for him, except now you wait and eat dinner with him
there's never a dull moment with dk, and he makes you laugh until you can't breathe
he's made it his personal goal over dinner to make you laugh so hard you snort food up your nose again
you talk about everything and anything to him
he'll tell you about a funny thing at work and you'll tell him about a customer at the library and somehow that will bring you to a debate on hogwarts houses
today he sits across from you, the food on his plate already all long gone and eaten while you're just finishing up with yours
'you know, i'm allergic to cats.'
you gape
because he's what now?
'you're what now?'
'well, not to you, i guess. maybe you're hypoallergenic?'
now you think of it, you do remember one of his friends almost saying something about that the first time you ever saw them
it might have been jun, you can't quite remember
'you know, when you first sat next to me on the sofa, i was panicking because i didn't know what to do with cats.'
you snort
you address him as you get up, dumping your plate in the sink before proceeding to dive onto the sofa
'you didn't know what to do with cats? you just stroke us, dk.'
he follows suit, and you're propelled upwards due to the force that he lands on the sofa cushions with
'yeah, but it's different from how you stroke dogs. it doesn't matter, anyways, because i still got you to purr.'
he crosses his arms and smiles smugly
you throw back your head and laugh, realising why he looked so proud when he found the spot behind your ear
actually, you laugh so hard your stomach hurts, and it's only egged on by the small indignant noise that leaves him at your reaction
eventually, you need to catch your breath, and as you wipe the tears from your eyes, you glance over at dk
your heart lurches
he's staring
there's this look on his face, in his eyes, that burns
his lips are slightly parted, and suddenly the air between the two of you is charged in a way that makes your heartbeat pound loud in your ears
his gaze flicks down from your eyes, down to your mouth, then back up, and all of a sudden, you can't breathe
you can't even think as he leans closer, his breath ghosting over your lips
your head spins, fear and elation fighting for control
is he... is he going to kiss you?
his hand comes up to cup your cheek, his slender fingers warm and so undoubtedly right
like it's meant to be
'can i kiss you?'
his words come out so softly that you could almost believe you imagined them, if not for that look in his eyes
it's deep and immense, full of want, full of longing
it sweeps you up in its arms, promising you the love you only dare to dream of
it's beautiful
it's everything
also, it's fucking terrifying
panic grips your swelling heart and crushes it
he can't want you, he shouldn't - you're a hybrid, he's a human, it will never work, you'll just get hurt when he realises you're not good enough, when he realises how much harder it is to be associated with your kind, you can't disappoint him -
leaping off the sofa, you shift into cat form and sprint for the back door
you shoot right through the cat flap and run, legging it to the end of the garden and launching yourself over the fence
despite your speed, you still spare dk a backward glance
he sits, frozen on the sofa, his head turned towards you, eyes wide and bewildered
they're brimming with regret and what you'd like to imagine is sorrow
you never thought the ache of yearning in your chest would be returned, so you let it carve out a space for him in your heart
you didn't think he'd try to fill it, you didn't think he'd be dumb enough to want a hybrid like you
that night, you try to leave
you try to walk down the road, away from dk's house, away from dk and his comforting scent and warm hands
you can't
your soul seems tethered to his, and you can't bring yourself to cut the strings
you spend the night sitting in the garden next to his, tail curled around your paws, bathed in the glow of his kitchen lights that don't turn off until around three am in the morning
you shiver in the dark, fighting with yourself until you decide to go back, to talk it out with him because that's what he deserves
you hate to slink back to him after being such a coward, but you need him to know that you do want him, that if you were a human, if you were good enough for him, you would have kissed him in a heartbeat
quietly, you slip through the cat flap make your way into the guest room
it's changed so much since the first night you spent in it - dk moved most of the boxes out of it, making it your room, even though you sleep in his most of the time
there's a selfie of you and dk, wrapped up in blankets for movie night, and a group photo of you and the boys halfway through the most chaotic game of cards you've ever participated in
you're determined not to lose this, lose them
you're determined not to fuck this up more than you already have
quickly, you shift and change into your clothes, just to stand in the middle of the room, not entirely sure what to do with yourself
you remain there, silently fretting, until there's a soft tap on the door
your breath catches in your throat but you manage to wheeze out a somewhat convincing 'come in'
dk peeks in and leaves the door open - you're aware that he's left it that way to give you a clear escape route
he chews on his lip, running a hand through his hair, and you notice that he looks tired, as if he hasn't slept all night
'i heard you come in, and i just wanted to say that i... i'm sorry. i didn't mean to overstep the boundaries. i just - you're... i'm sorry i messed up. asking to, um, you know, wasn't a good idea on my part, i don't - i didn't know what i was doing, i kind of just...'
he sighs, looking at you sheepishly once he realises he was rambling
'please don't go?'
that's the moment you give in
you let go of it, of everything, and let yourself fly into freefall
stepping forward, you hook an arm around his neck, sinking your other hand into his hair, bringing his face down to yours to fit your lips to his
he makes a soft, awed noise, his fingers curling around your waist to press you closer to him
he tastes divine, like heaven, like the best kind of destiny
the feel of his lips against yours becomes everything you'll ever need
hesitantly, you begin to pull away, words already forming on your tongue, but then he darts forward to steal another sweet, sweet kiss from you, and then you're drowning in him again
he tangles his hands in your hair, his fingertips brushing over your ears, tracing their shape as if to show you that he doesn't care what you are
when he eventually breaks the kiss off, he presses a finger to your lips before you can draw a breath
'don't tell me i don't know what i'm getting into. i thought i lost you, i thought you were leaving, and i couldn't... please, just let me love you.'
he immediately cringes at his own words, and you let your head fall forward until your forehead rests against his chest, huffing out a laugh
'i'm sorry i freaked out before, i - i got scared. then i didn't know what to do so i just kind of ran. i didn't mean to scare you.'
he pouts cutely, in a way that makes you want to poke his cheeks
'well, you did. i - '
you cut him off with a kiss, just to taste him again if not to shut him up
his hands find your hips, drawing you closer to him
'i think i love you.'
the confession slips out of you, mumbled onto his lips before you can stop it, but all he does is smile into the kiss
'i think i love you too.'
when the boys find out, they tease dk mercilessly while somehow also hyping him up
seungcheol, jeonghan and hoshi all claim to have known about it from the start, although everyone knows hoshi is just saying that
jeonghan purposefully sits next to you just to quietly tell you about how he managed to get dk drunk enough one time for him to confess that he was in love with a cat
dk gets pouty about it later, so you kiss his face all over until he smiles again
in fact, he pretends to sulk a lot to get kisses from you
sometimes, you'll catch him just staring at you with a huge grin on his face
he makes a point to hold your hand in public, telling you that he's proud of having you
his sweet words make it easy for you to brush off the stares of the people on the bus, easy for you to ignore the way they whisper
sometimes dk kisses you and loudly calls you disgustingly sappy pet names in front of them, just out of spite
you realise now that they don't really bother you, not when dk doesn't care about them and not when he loves you the way he does - unconditionally
he shows it in the way he hangs onto your every word, in the way he cooks your favourite dishes for you, in the way he holds you, in the way he kisses you as if you're the most precious thing in the universe
you take every opportunity to show him how much you love him, too
hence why you're up early, cooking breakfast for dk
it's a saturday, and the sun leaking through the curtains woke you, even though it didn't even affect dk - he remained snoring beside you, his legs tangled with yours and his arms locked around your waist
you'd eased your way out of his grip and replaced yourself with a pillow, pressing a light kiss onto his forehead before shifting into your human form and pulling one of his t-shirts over your head
most nights, you sleep in your human form, but he'd been hogging the blankets so you'd shifted into your cat form in a desperate effort to make it easier for you to squirm into his blanket burrito
'what're you smiling about, huh?'
you almost drop the pancake you were transferring to a plate already heaped high and steaming with others
his arms wrap around your waist, and you sigh as he kisses your neck
'actually, i was thinking about how rude it was of you to steal the blankets last night, you sneaky little bastard.'
'hmm, my bad.'
he nips at your neck before his tongue flicks out to brush over the same spot
his hands wrap around your hips, and you sigh noncommittally as he sneaks his fingers under the hem of your - his - t-shirt
'babe, the pancakes will get cold - '
'don't care.'
you don't even try to shake him off as he continues to kiss at your neck from behind, nudging the collar of your shirt to the side so he can suck a hickey onto your shoulder
the air of the kitchen is cold on your bare legs, but he's nice and warm and solid, and you lean back into him, eyes closing as he laves his tongue over your skin
a low purr emnates from deep in your chest, and you feel him pause at your back
'that's never happened before,'
'and?'
'it was kind of hot.'
you huff out a laugh, but it's cut off as he spins you around, gripping your chin so he can kiss you
dk kisses you passionately, like he woke up with the one desire to taste every inch of your mouth, his teeth grazing dizzyingly over your lower lip
he grins against you when you moan at the feel of his tongue against yours
hooking your arms over his shoulders, you draw him closer
picking you up, he deposits you on the island, not breaking the kiss
he slots himself between your legs, his fingers skimming over the tops of your thighs, pushing the hem of your shirt a little higher
hooking an ankle around his hip, you nestle your heel in the small of his back, nudging him closer
something in your stomach pulls wonderfully tight when you feel the grind of his hardening cock against your clothed cunt
he chuckles at the involuntary noise that leaves you, one of his hands coming up to cup your breasts as he leans down, palms dragging down the length of your thighs as he hooks them over his shoulders
he helps you shimmy out of your underwear, chucking them carelessly over his shoulder
and then, just like that, he's got his mouth between your legs, spreading your pussy with his fingers, his eyes disarmingly guileless
his tongue is divinely velvet as he sweeps it through your folds
he tastes you as if your essence is the nectar of the gods, teasing the pleasure out of your body, holding your trembling thighs up with his big hands
as you come, convulsing around his tongue, he looks up at you with stars in his eyes, as if you're a goddess
it's ridiculous, the way he can make your heart flutter while fucking eating you out like a man starved
he straightens, kisses you with honey drenched lips that bear a virtuous smile, and lifts you up in his arms so he can make love to you on the sofa
he makes your eyes roll, makes your toes curl, makes you cry his name, sets you alight with his touch
and when he sends you over the edge, coming with you, when he scoops you up in his arms, sets you on the bathroom sink to clean you up, when he kisses you in the shower, you know one thing
you are willingly trapped in his gravity; you orbit him as if he is the star at the centre of the universe, yet somehow he looks at you with a light in his eyes, like you are the sun, the warmth on his skin, the reason for life
you love this man, irrevocably so, and somehow, miraculously, he loves you back
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gabessquishytum · 3 months
Note
Dream has a favorite restaurant. That's not because the food is sooo good, Dream has food issues and prefers restaurants (one restaurant) that has a static menu, where he's assured that things will taste as he expects.
His sisters (& and even Desire) forced him to find a place where he could get at least 2 meals a week, that he didn’t have to cook for himself,,,,, since he can't cook and they were all worried he would die of malnutrition! 😝 They went around to all the eateries in his neighborhood and found this small diner that had the most things on their menu Dream could eat.
Dream didn’t know his diner hired a new chef. The only way he learned of it was that his standing Tuesday order, tasted different?!? The texture was the same, so Dream could still eat it, but the flavor in his first bite was different, unexpected, good enough to try a 2nd bite..... Dream has never eaten a meal as quickly, chasing the new flavor. It was really good. Dream had never.......it had to be a fluke. The same thing happened with his standing Thursday order and when he ordered something on Saturday. It was the most extraordinary thing. "Flavor," interesting, delicious, flavor had never been something Dream thought he would get to have. The new chef is amazing.
Hob loves his new job! He's finally cooking for a restaurant, not just prepping pieces; it's a small diner, but Hob gets to cook and zhuzh up some of the plainer offerings -- not too much, because he knows that diners have regulars who like what they like,,,,but he's gotten some good feedback on the spicing up of things.
And one of the other best things about the job is the tall, goth, eye candy that seems to frequent the diner every few days. Hob isn't sure what exactly he orders (and Hob hopes he likes Hob's cooking) but lately he seems to be coming in more ?!? ☺️ He's soo pretty Hob wants to offer to cook for him forever!
Cute cute cute!!!!
Hob takes great joy in cooking for everyone, but there's something rather special about Dream. Perhaps it's the fact that he always looks at the food in a critical, suspicious sort of way before he eats. Its incredibly endearing and Hob loves watching him through the glass door of the kitchen. Dream does seem to enjoy the food, but he never quite trusts it. Hob respects that about him. Especially when the recipe is one of Hob’s jazzed up classics.
They happen to meet while Hob is taking a delivery of local fruits and veggies. Dream summons up the courage to approach and talk to him about some of the ingredients - they spend about 10 minutes chatting while Hob enthuses about asparagus and Dream nods along, smiling the whole time. Dream reveals that he is a completely incompetent cook and that he's basically living off Hob’s food at this point, both at the diner and the leftovers that he brings home. Hob is thrilled - although slightly panicked because what if he can't come into work and Dream starves?!
Obviously he needs to drag Dream into the kitchen after hours, and at LEAST show him how to boil an egg. He's convinced that Dream is going to look adorable in an apron... maybe also covered in ingredients... that Hob can lick off him 👀
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streaminn · 8 months
Text
Enid is in rut
People expect someone possessive, an aggression that leads her to lashing out
Instead, Enid is dying
She has always loved touch, loved the feeling of a skin against hers. It can be the tiniest brush of shoulders or a hand clasped around her fingers but what Enid truly wants?
Is a hug.
And oh, does she want one. She craves it like one craves food after days of starving. She wishes and wants with a feverence of an addict not getting their fix, shaking and trembling in bed.
Enid thinks that if someone were to wrap their arms around her right now, she could ctrl alt 4f from this life peacefully.
But there was a catch.
It couldn't be from just anyone.
Enid has tried with others. Hooked her chin along Yoko's shoulder, giving a small squeeze to Divina, a side hug to Eugene.
But it isn't enough.
There's an ache in her chest, the one that sobs and cries like a child of before. Enid hasn't heard it be this loud and she's left glassy eyed for the whole day, her mind blank and her body on auto pilot.
It's back in her dorm does Enid realizes what she's missing.
Wednesday.
It's a relief, the way her body immediately relaxes at the familiar smell of lavender but with it comes this acceptance. It is not of joy, but rather a resignation. Like knowing that refreshing the page for tickets won't do a thing but she does it anyways In hopes that it can change anything.
Insanity maybe?
Wednesday would like that, knowing she drove her roommate insane.
As the wolf lies in bed, her mind begin to run and run. She has hugged Wednesday once, hugged her like her life depended on it.
She's going to die like this, Enid thinks as she curls up in her bed. She's going to die a wilted miserable flower, missing the sunshine it so desperately needs.
Because even before this, Enid had wanted so bad to do it again. To wrap her arms around the roommate that makes her heart still, to lay her head onto the shoulder of someone she loves and wishes for.
So yes, Enid is dying.
Because there's no way Wednesday Addams will give her a hug.
Or, I want to explore the non sexual things that happens during ruts! Aka give Enid a lil hormonal push to want to cross the boundary, to reach over and just maybe hold Wednesday's hands
Except, Enid can't and she won't
Because wednesday doesn't like touch and Enid will have to accept it
(or does she?)
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