#you know those round ones but then i thought 'why not fluffy?'

[gremlingottoosilly]

Moo business (monster!Konig x CowHybrid!fem!Reader)

Promotion to colonel has its perks. Having your own caretaker with fluffy cow years and a nice pair of...additions is one of them - and Konig is about to enjoy his new rank.

Content warning: Hybrids, Konig is a huge pervert, naive cow hybrid reader, slight dub-con, power imbalance, and inappropriate work behavior, lactation kink. Implied big chested!Reader

Humans have learned to live with monsters. Obviously, having dangerous, much more powerful neighbors in this tiny green planet, didn’t allow humans to actually thrive and succeed – the power dynamics were shifted ever since the first monster decided, that wearing a collar and identification badge doesn’t really go with their style. And humans would be much more suited to wear it. 

Unfortunately, monsters aren’t created equal – while most of them are killing machines with little to no regard to the danger of real life, there are some particularly fragile hybrids with no use in fights or even normal life. House cat hybrid girls, almost no claws and all purring and laying on their backs to let humans and other monsters pet their bellies. Sheep hybrids, all fluff and tiny, rounded horns that would never hurt anyone. Cow hybrids, adorable and silly, no use in the fights except for moral support. 

Which is exactly why König was fucking pissed. 

— G…good evening, sir. I will be your assistant for the day. I mean, every day. As long as you’re having me. 

You smile nervously, munching on your lips. When the only way up the social ladder was working in the army as an…assistant? Moral support? Waving your nurse training like you’d be able to safely secure a monster’s health when he is twice as big as you? 

Being a colonel in the army has its perks – better gear, better paycheck, better chunks of meat that he can bite off the enemies without higher-ups whining about war crimes and rules of war. Having a cute lil’ assistant with fluffy ears and a chest that physically can’t fit into the uniform, forcing you to wear permanent cleavage and just let a bit of chubbiness roll on the tight fabric is also a perk. For a pervert, maybe, but not for König who is already sworn to never deal with anyone who is this sensitive, this soft, and this…adorable. 

He thought he was quite certain in his wishes – if higher-ups really need for him to take a fuck toy, he wanted it to be resilient. Maybe a dog hybrid, maybe a vampire, just weak and hungry enough to overpower with little fights. Not someone like you, who has no idea what she is doing in the army and why her hands are trembling like he is going to devour you alive. Although, looking at the way your chest is swaying every time you flinch…maybe, he can do just that. Teach higher-ups a lesson on why he doesn’t need their handouts. 

— Dismissed. 

He doesn’t even look at you. Honestly, you’re a bit hurt – honestly, you almost want to yell at him or scream or tell all of your higher-ups that the colonel is a huge jerk who clearly doesn’t need a little cow darling to make him coffee and tend to his needs and be a huge moral support because they can’t take another fucked out recruit when the dangerous hybrid is in heat again. You feel like a glorified whore – the one that he doesn’t even want. 

— B…but…

You pout your lips, a billion questions raised in your mind – why is he like this, what is his deal and you should even look at him if he clearly doesn’t want you…and that look on your face, helplessness mixed with a bit of deliciously sweet anger, combined with your soft, doe features…

Colonel has a problem. 

He thought he knew what he wanted – a strong partner, someone resilient and fiery, someone who can take his cock anywhere without whining. Someone who wouldn’t require a lot of attention and softness, someone who knows their place. Now König looks at you, your floppy ears and trembling lips, and his gaze darts lower, his nose getting milk fragrances even under all of those layers of fabric. 

It doesn’t take a genius to know why they sent you. He doesn’t need a secretary, he doesn’t need an assistant and even if he needs help with something, there are always lower ranks ready to do whatever he says. You’re useless to him, on all levels he can imagine – and yet, he can’t find it in him, to truly dismiss you. To hate your trembling lips and obedient stare – no thought behind those pretty eyes of yours. He always thought he wanted someone strong, someone who is hard to break and resilient to any advances. 

He looks at you and, for the first time in forever, has this wild urge to protect. 

— Sir? Is everything alright? 

You tilt your head to the side, that naive stare you has makes his cock twitch in his pants. It was a long time since he had sex with anyone, especially that adorable. Some hybrids look like they are made to be fucked and loved and used in all of those delicious ways – he knows it’s problematic, he knows that having that view on fellow monsters isn’t right for someone as strong as him, but he wants to devour you. Wants to see that pretty eyes wide from desire – he knows you’d feel the urge too, it’s in your blood, to present your soft belly and even softer tits to a larger predator. 

Indulging on you would mean giving up on his attempts of constantly undermining the higher-ups – it would also mean that he would finally receive a partner for the extensive mating seasons that clash with his work and make his skilling rate go up – and not just for the enemies. Private Halseen, you will be missed. Your ass probably wouldn’t. 

— I thought you’d heard me the first time. 

— But I brought coffee.

— They make coffee machines in cows now? 

— Sir! I was just trying to…break the ice? I’m your new operator, or, um, assistant, I have nurse training, and I…

— What are you going to do with an injury? Lick it away? 

— M…my saliva has healing properties, so…

— They really sent me a magic cow, ja? 

— That’s a very…special way to put it, colonel.

You are surprisingly stubborn for someone who isn’t a confident killing machine. You balance the little tray with a cup of coffee – a big one, seems like you did your homework on that one – and he can’t help but imagine your hands gripping something else this tightly. Your body is trembling, your face switches between a sad and a surprised expression as he slowly emerges from his table to get a good look at you. 

You’re a cow hybrid – they are naturally adorable, naturally soft, and naturally made for someone like him to tower over. He is good over 7 foot, even in mostly human form, and his monster height would be almost twice your size – he'd love to take you like this, raw, bully his giant cock into your, no doubt, tight pussy, and make you squeal from the stretch. Maybe, he can help you with milk production – put another hybrid into you, make your belly swell from his cum. Keep you locked away in his room like a perfect little treat, using your soft body as a perfect pillow. 

He can’t help but lick his lips in anticipation – saliva collecting in his mouth as the thinks of all the ways he can use such a pretty secretary. There is no way you don’t know why they sent you here – no way you think that your self-worth is something more than being his obedient pet, beloved toy. König never thought of settling down, the bloodshed is his one and only partner – but he looks at your rounded horns, at your twitching ears and pouty lips – and he thinks about putting his earring right into your floppy ear. lick away all the blood and calm you down as you’d squirm under the pain, soothe your panicking cow brain as he would bully his cock even deeper, claiming you as…

Ah, shit. You’re still here, waiting for his answer – your eyes are shocked and afraid, anticipated a little bit because of course you’re aroused, his pheromones are too overwhelming for a thing like you – you stare at the bulge in his pants, at nis, no doubt, hard cock – and he can almost see gears in your head turning slowly. God, you’re adorable. 

— You forgot the milk. 

— Sergeant Horangi didn’t say anything about milk. 

So, Horangi was the one to set you up. Of course, tiger shifter probably got his hots on you – pretty prey, perfect for every hunter nearby, but, just as a good officer, he let you go to his colonel first. You talk back with a surprisingly fierce tone and König appreciates the way his mask covers up his whole face – you couldn’t see his smile, the way corners of his mouth jerked up at your pout. Continue like this, and the colonel will do more than just smile at your antics. 

— Probably because he knew that our milk is shitty. 

— If…if you need me to bring you something else, I will do it right away, sir. 

— No need, Kuhen. I think you have what I need right here. 

His cock twitches in his pants again – your eyes are locked on his bulge, you slowly push the tray to the table. You’re naive, you’re cute, and he knows that KorTac probably pays you triple for being this adorable and playing dumb like the good girl you are – bastards probably know that if you’d be upfront and pushy, he would just set you away from his office. 

But standing here, munching on your lower lip, your soft, pink tongue disappearing in your mouth only to reaper to lick your lips again, your face not ever betraying the emotions you, no doubt, are feeling – König can smell your arousal, can almost see the way your pussy is glittering with juices flowing right into your soaked panties. They send a lamb – a cow – to his chambers and they know that he would never resist a good hunt. You allow him to cut through the chase, to just pin you to his desk and take what’s his – but anxiety, that stupid fucking worm eating his brain over the tiniest facts, is making him question everything again. He knows he thinks too much, he knows it’s not going to do him any good – still, he wants to be sure that you’re not too dumb to understand his advances. Still, he wants to play a bit more. Delay the moment of sex because his doubt can eat him alive otherwise. 

— Take off your shirt, Schatzen. 

He doesn’t even look at your chest, bouncing from the tight shirt you were wearing – poor buttons holding on for dear life, barely containing your soft flesh – he drinks up your expressions, embarrassment, and poorly hidden curiosity. You saw the job requirements for an operator, saw his profile – high risks, high aggression, can be very, very violent – and you decided that you can take him, for the right pay. 

— You want me to…take off something else, sir?

A smart girl would run the fuck away from him – but you just lock your hands in front of you, not even bothering to cover your chest. God, he wants to be with you forever – just for that little look on your face your nervousness. You’re standing in front of him, only wearing pants and your bra – and you’re afraid that he isn’t going to like what he sees. 

Just for this expression, he might as well push a ring on your finger already. 

— Ja. Bra is next. 

You nod like you expected this. You probably did – for a prey hybrid, you’re surprisingly smart in understanding what he needs. Your bra is lacy and cute, white, with little flat roses printed – surely not something he expected from military personnel, even if your duties are laying in under him, not with your belly in trenches and your cute hands squeezing the trigger. 

Your breasts look even bigger without a bra to keep them close. You place a hand under your chest, feeling a bit awkward with your colonel just standing here, looming over your form. You lick your lips – he cocks his head closer to you. You can hear something shifting under his hood – you don’t know what his face looks like, rumors were opting for either a bunch of tentacles tucked neatly inside of his hood, the head of some mythical animal, or a normal, but disfigured and burned human face. You don’t know which option you prefer – even the files you were reading before choosing this job didn’t give you an answer. There is something stirring inside of you when you’re thinking about tentacles, though. 

— Braves Mädchen…good girl. 

You smile, feeling the knot in your tummy getting even tighter at the praise. You like him – despite his rough exterior and the obvious arousal, you like being liked, wanted, and devoured by a much stronger predator. Not having any supernatural powers, your only survival option in this world is to appease the strongest – and it looks like you just got a really juicy target. 

Suddenly, König grabs your waist and lifts you to his table – documents go flying around and you put a bit more, thinking of how long it would take to put everything back together. He doesn’t care for your concerns – the next thing you know, you are pushed ever further into his table, and the colonel lifts the end of his hood just enough to envelop his mouth on one of your nipples. 

— S…sir! Please, a little warning next time…

He laughs, his hands pressing small, sweet bruises into the curve of your waist. His mouth feels cold at first – then he flicks his tongue at your hardened nipple, and it feels like an oven. You moan you squeak, you squirm under him – all those documents and transferring and half a dozen Suits trying to tell you of how dangerous your work is going to be, how unstable and irritated the colonel is, how he is probably going to shoo you from his office the first two weeks – all of this comes flying right out the window. 

— You already think of the next time, Schatzen? 

König never tastes something as sweet, as silky, and smooth as your breasts. There is something deep, primal, wild in the way he sucks and bites at your nipple – he devours the taste of your skin and it feels like he can come to his pants just from the feeling alone. You’re squirming in his grasp, poor thing, probably aren’t used to sensation – he closes his eyes and allows his monster to take over, to take what he wants from you. 

He shifts to your other breasts, warming and cooling them at the same time. He isn’t an expert in that weird kind of massage, but you don’t need an expert in boob sucking when all of your cow instincts telling you to spread your legs and allow him to put babies in you, to breed like the prey you are, to take care of you outside of this stupid job. You’re terrified that his sharp teeth can draw blood and arouse at the way his tongue clicks at your nipples so perfectly, so naturally, like he was doing it his whole life. 

You moan, whispering little begs and praying to deaf ears. Your hands are going to hig his neck, to just kind put your fingers on his hood and just keep it here, not daring to try and direct the movements of his tongue. All of those days of constant preparing for the worst, long nights of studying the psychology of hunters, of predator hybrids, didn’t leave you much time to milk yourself in the past week – you might just be a hybrid, but it doesn’t release you from the endless burden of constant lactation. 

— S…so embarrassing…please, sir, we need to stop or I will…

— Ja, meine Kuh? Did you want to say something to your colonel? 

— Please, I’m going to…fuck, this is embarrassing…

— Language. 

He closes his teeth on your tender bud, making you moan his name – his callsign – loudly. He grunts from satisfaction, finally tasting sweet milk pouring from his body – might be the only thing that makes cow hybrids useful for someone as strong as him. 

Your milk is sweet, rich, and creamy, and your little cries only make it tastier. He pushes his tongue deeper, swirls it around your hardened bud, waits for you to moan even more – every inch of your being makes him feel weird, protective, like he already put a baby in that soft tummy of yours and made you his. It’s dumb, you aren’t even connected on the official level – but he sucks your milk ever so passionately, forgetting about every mission trouble he had.

Sucking your tits feels like therapy – giving up all of his powers just to kiss you, to bite you, to drink your milk, and softly massage the flesh until your pussy starts to grind against the round corner of his table. Poor thing, he doesn’t even touch you in any way – you’re too precious for this, and he falls too deeply into your eyes and the swell of your chest. 

— Sir! Pl…please, don’t…if you’d stop, I will…

He drinks your milk swiftly, feels the liquid dripping down his chin – always a messy eater, one of the reasons he used the mask to hide his embarrassment. He can’t look at your face, the angle is too far off for this, and it disappoints him – he wants to drink your pretty expressions, wants to know that he is one to make that pretty cow this slutty. Just a few minutes ago he was ready to get your ass off his office – and now he is changing between two of your round breasts, making sure to not waste a drop. 

Fuck, this is far better than any milk the base kitchen can provide. 

He sucks a little bit more, pressing his tongue against your swollen, abused nipples. You whine at the sensation, poor little hybrid isn’t used to his teeth and his mouth – he’d have to make sure to repeat this procedure every other day, if possible, to get you used to direct milking. He’d have to spend weeks spreading your pretty cunt for him, teaching you how to milk his cock and meowl like a good prey hybrid you are – but he didn’t become colonel because he was afraid of challenges. 

He stops sucking with a little pop, final droplets of milk falling to his lips as he licks it, groaning from pleasure. His stubble made the soft skin around your nipples irritated and you tremble when the cold air hits them – you feel fragile, used, your pussy is twitching around nothing, the pulsation forcing you to grind against the corner of his table like a bitch in heat. 

König made you like this – half-naked, trembling, so fucking horny that you can’t even look at him without dropping to your knees, and it almost made you want to run away. He squeezes your tits again, enveloping the soft mounts in his large, rough hands – you whine a little bit, still all too sensitive after this pleasurable torture he created. 

— How do you feel? 

He sounds…weaker now. Almost embarrassed at his little outburst, he picks up your bra and helps you get dressed – you both want more, to check if his table is really as sturdy as it looks, but König has a training session in 30 minutes and you have König’s training session, standing behind his shoulder and watching him yelling at the recruits. It would be hard to get scared at him again, when every time his cold gaze darts to your face, he softens. When you look at him and can only imagine milk dripping down your chin – your milk, no less. 

— I’m…empty. In a good way, I mean. Thank you, sir.

You feel weird when he gently helps you get into your clothes, his fingers are simply too big for the buttons – he presses his head against your shoulder, trying to concentrate, and you awkwardly hug him for stability. He chuckles. 

— My pleasure, Schatzen. 

You stand here, awkwardly – your neck enveloped with a collar, with his name on it, and he can’t pry his eyes away from it. God, he never knew that being a colonel would allow him such a cutie as a bonus. KorTac didn’t seem like an organization that would give away wives so easily, but König isn’t going to complain. 

He just has to make sure to keep you chained to his table, that’s all. 

#cod #yandere konig #konig x reader #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere cod #yandere x reader #konig #konig x you

[beenbaanbuun]

mean yet soft w/ wooyoung

words - don’t ask, i don’t know

genre - fluffy smut

warnings - mean!dom wooyoung, also soft!dom wooyoung, face fucking, spanking, degradation, nicknames, aftercare, hes literally jekyll and hyde

not proofread but i’ll get round to it soon :)

so wooyoung is a little shit, but he isn’t evil

like he’ll tease you until the end of the earth, but the moment you get hurt by his words he’s clung to you like a koala telling you sweet nothings

and if that’s not enough, he’ll go one step beyond sane just to apologise to you

one second you’re pouting and the next he’s buying you flowers and cooking for you as an apology

not that he doesn’t do both of those things anyway

it’s just that when he’s trying to beg for forgiveness, he always goes a little overboard

you won’t be able to move without bumping into a bouquet of flowers, and you’ll actually have to beg for him to stop cooking for you because you’re way too full to eat most of it…

but something in my sick and twisted little brain i like to think that this applies to the bedroom too…

like imagine you’ve just pissed him off a little too much

bratted too close to the sun, if you will

the glare he gives you honestly makes you want to kneel down and beg but he won’t let you

not yet, anyway

because whilst you’ll definitely be knelt down in a second, letting him pound his pretty cock into your slack jaw, he has to make sure it doesn’t hurt you first

“kneel on the pillow for me, princess… that’s it, baby! we don’t want your pretty skin getting bruised, do we?”

and sure enough, there’s a plush pink pillow waiting for you

it’s almost heartwarming, until the second your knees hit the fabric and suddenly there’s a dick in your mouth pumping in and out like there’s no tomorrow

and then when he spanks you, you can guarantee he goes fucking hard

i’m talking trouble sitting down hard

red hand prints for days hard

tears streaming down your cheeks as he makes you count for him hard

and it hurts like fucking HELL and he knows that

but that doesn’t stopping from delivering soft kisses to the sweltering hot skin in between each spank

soothing strokes along your ass to make sure you know he’s not really mad

oh, and don’t get me started on the words he tells you…

he will call you every single name under the sun

bitch, whore, slut, dumb, so on and so forth

“fucking slut,” he spits, punctuating it with an extra hard thrust, “panting for me like a bitch in heat.”

and you are, you can’tdeny that

face pressing into the pillow, tongue sitting pretty on your bottom lip as you gulp in as much air as possible in between thrusts

his beautiful cruel words swim around your dizzy head, but before they even have chance to sink in, he’s letting you know just how much he loves you

“you’re a whore, aren’t you,” he grins as he nuzzles your cheek, “but that just makes me love you all the more. my whore, baby… all mine.”

and then the aftercare?

if you lift a finger, he’s going to place a curse on your entire bloodline because how dare you do his job?

he is supposed to be taking care of you, not you…

“hey, idiot,” he stomps over to the bed where he left you whilst he got water, “i thought i told you to sit still and let me do the work! why are you taking the sheets off?”

“felt dirty, youngie…”

he just rolls his eyes

“let me carry you to the bathroom, okay? i’ll sort the sheets…”

and youd better let him carry you to the toilet and sit you down (because you should be peeing after sex… no uti’s in this household)

if you don’t let him, he’s going to do it anyway

only rather than lifting you up gently, bridal style, you’ll be hoisted over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes

and you can complain as much as you want, but you can’t out-do the doer

you complain about him taking care of you, let him bring out a 40 slide power point about everything you do that annoys him that he’s been saving for this exact moment in time

like seriously, just let him do his job

it makes him feel better about being a dick

#ateez drabbles #ateez headcanons #ateez oneshot #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #wooyoung smut #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung x reader

[shiny-jr]

☀ damnation [ the hyena chieftain ]

– Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.

– Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

– Characters: Jack Howl, Ruggie Bucchi, Leona Kingscholar.

– Note: Not much to say right now, just a continuation of transferring the results from the quiz onto here so people can read. Like last time, if you haven’t taken the quiz, please try it! I worked a lot on it. As for now, I’m working on the next batch of results (Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, and Diasomnia). Scarabia is a current work in progress, had to rewrite part of it because I didn’t like it. 

– Pages: 42

– Not satisfied? Try looking here for the quiz to take it yourself and see where you end up banished!

The King of Hearts   |   The Hyena Chieftain   |   The Diviner 

Wrapped. You were partially wrapped in a thin cool cloth. It was hot, and whatever you woke up on was uncomfortable but was much better than the hard cold benches of the jail. Everything came rushing back in an instant, your crimes, those scowling judges, and the portal that led to your punishment— You were here, the place where you’d live the rest of your life in exile.

Looking around, you thought to yourself, it could be a lot worse. It appeared that you were in some type of room, or a small house, or rather— a cave. The low ceilings were uneven, rocky, reflective and shiny with dew. The hard cold floor was uneven, and looking down, you could see that you lay atop a dirty old mattress with no bed frame. The mattress was just on the floor, there were even a couple of springs cutting through the corners. Thankfully there was light thanks to an old broken lamp in the corner, lit by a flame instead of electricity. The few shelves on the wall were stock full of pots and pans and silverware, and just a few feet away there was a small stone stove. Looks like you ended up in someone’s house. But who’s? And why?

As you jumped up on your feet, you realized that the cloth you were swaddled in was not a blanket for this bed, but a gray wrap that stretched from your left shoulder to the right side of your hip, the cloth held in place by a thin belt around your waist. Attached to the belt was a scabbard, and inside was a curved dagger you curiously examined in the palms of your hands, covered in long fingerless brown gloves. This knife might be useful to keep on you. You never know when things might get dangerous. Tucking the weapon back in its place, you returned your attention to the rest of your outfit. Underneath your wrap, you wore an extremely loose fitted sleeveless brown tunic that could just barely be seen, with matching cargo pants and worn boots.

“Hey, boss! Guess who got a great haul?”

Surprised by the sudden voice, you looked up only to see a short guy barreling into the room, past the curtains that served as a barrier, with an armful of goods. You weren’t too focused on whatever he was carrying, you were distracted by something else attached to his head and lower back. Ears, and a tail. The guy had fluffy but messy brown hair that faded into a sandy blonde, his semi-round ears were brown and his short tail matched his hair color. Were those the characteristics of a dog or a cat…? More important, why had he called you boss?

His downturned eyes, gray in color, peered up at you as he dropped all of his goodies on the mattress you were just asleep on moments ago. Flashing a proud grin, he rummaged through the pile as he explained, “Bunch of tourists from afar were on their way to the kingdom. Lucky for us, they took a wrong turn and ended up on our land. I mean, look at all this cheddar! Coins, jewelry, clothes, oh, and check it out–– rations! There’s a bunch more where this came from. And don’t worry, we split up all the stuff like you told us.”

As he sorted through the various objects, you pried your eyes away from his animal features and noticed his gloves were torn, old and rugged from what must’ve been countless times being worn. In the spots that were torn through, his hands looked rough and damaged from work. Curiously you stepped closer, scanning the pile, “There’s no gloves…?”

“Nah, I went through everything before we split it and sent them to the different ends with the guys to hand out.” Tossing aside some cans, he inquired, “Why? You lookin’ for some?” Actually, now that you were looking at him, you realized most if not all of his clothes were most likely stolen. The white cotton tunic was browning with age and was several sizes too big on his thin form, the large gray pants he wore were held up by a belt similar to yours that held a knife, and he had a dark brown shawl long enough to wrap around his shoulders and extend down his sides.

You still weren’t entirely sure what was going on, but as you looked down at your hands, it became evident that this guy needed these accessories more than you did. Peeling off the long brown gloves from your palms, you outstretched your hands and watched as he hesitantly, confusedly, placed his palms against your own. Removing his old gloves, you replaced them with your own. They matched his shawl. “If you don’t want to throw away your old ones, then save the material to make something else.”

“Really? For me? Seriously, you’re always giving me your things…” Eyeing the new gloves on his hands, he tugged on the material, seemingly content with the new pair. Raising an eyebrow, he eyed you suspiciously, “Spit it out, what job do you want me to do?”

Job? Right, so it seemed like this guy thought you were his boss and he was the subordinate. But it wasn’t just an ordinary gig being run here. Based on what he said before, these people stole if not for a living, then probably very often. And it was a large number of thieves that included himself, and you were their leader…? This was getting too confusing. “Look, I think you’re getting things wrong.” Clear things up now. “I’m not––”

“Is bringin’ ya the news good enough to pay you back? Because I heard a lot of it from those tourists and from locals in the pride lands. Come on, let’s walk while we talk.” Gesturing you to follow, you hesitantly did, and what you saw outside surprised you.

It was the slums. The little house you had been in, was inside of a huge cave system that housed multiple other rooms and even rooms outside in the sun. The environment was rocky, hot, and barren, but there were still countless people about. People like this guy, with fur-covered ears and tails, in rags and worn clothing. Clothes were being washed in huge bins by groups and hung to dry on lines, there was another group over fires cooking bits of food and collecting cans, and various other jobs being done. However, what caught you off guard, was that each person smiled at you and greeted you merrily, calling you boss, as if they had known you for years. Then, they also greeted the guy beside you. Ruggie, they called him.

“So here’s the deal, it’s not looking good on food for the week. We scavenged and sent some fishermen to the far end of the river, we even got some more people than usual at the markets in the kingdom making the usual food runs. But with King Falena making random rounds with his soldiers, we’re risking the chance of our guys getting caught.” Rolling his eyes at the mention of this king, Ruggie scoffed, muttering in annoyance, “Falena’s a dad now, why can’t he just go waste his time playing dear old daddy for that dumb little spoiled brat of his?! That’d make things so much easier for us, you know?”

A king and a land of hungry… Why did this seem familiar? You looked back at the guy beside you and his animal ears and tail. Almost everyone else here had similar appendages. What animal were they…?

“Oh, and before I forget, that Prince Leona was skulking around the borderlands again. Says he wants to talk to you, told me to tell you that myself. Gave a time and everything, talk about conceited.” Annoyed at the memory, he folded his arms behind his head and huffed, “You know, I kinda hate that guy. He’s always trying to boss me around, as if I work for him. Lions, am I right?”

A lion…? A lion prince, and an impoverished community… That… That sounded like the story of the Lion King. A story you used to read a lot when you were a kid. It was about a powerful and majestic lion that ruled over the savanna, and eventually his queen had a son who became heir and next in line for the throne. However, the majestic king had a prince brother who desired the throne more than anything. So, in secret the second prince met with the frowned upon hyenas that lived in the outskirts of the kingdom where there was little food and little water. The second prince befriended the hyenas and with the promise of being allowed into the land of plenty, plotted to overthrow his brother with the help of the hyenas. His plan succeeded, partially, as he murdered his elder brother but his prince nephew escaped. Only years later, after a short harsh rein under the cruel second prince, did the young prince return, now grown. The young prince took back the throne after a duel, and the second prince fell to his demise as the very hyenas he allied himself with, turned against him when the second prince attempted to blame them for the entire ordeal.

“Rightttt…” You responded quietly, not really paying that much attention to him because you were currently trying to piece together what you knew and what was going on. “... What time did he give you?”

“Who? The prince?” Ruggie stopped to look up at the sun, analyzing the angle of the light and length of the shadows with the position of the sun. Slowly he shrugged, “I’d say in ‘bout… few minutes actually. You’re not actually thinking of going, are you?”

The prince… This was a possible lead to… well, something, wasn’t it? Nodding to yourself, you answered confidently, “Yeah, I am, actually. Lead the way, will you?”

A sigh escaped past his lips as his shoulders sagged and he shoved his hands into his pockets. It seemed he was considering it, like he even wanted to say no, but finally he relented and threw up his hands. “You wanna see that stuck-up guy? Go for it. You’re the boss, you know what you’re doing.”

Yeah, you totally don’t know what you’re doing at all. Going with the gut feeling at the moment, and apparently your gut thought you should meet this prince, whoever he was. So you followed Ruggie as he obediently led the way through the dirt streets.

So wait, did that mean that this Ruggie guy and the rest of those people in the community were supposed to be the hyenas? Glancing at his animal characteristics, you could totally see it now. The fluffy ears and the short tail with brown or black colors, they were definitely the frowned upon hyenas of the story. Which meant that the majestic king was King Falena who Ruggie beside you off-handedly mentioned earlier, and his son was the kid prince that would one day rule the land after the tragedy. And finally, the villain of the story, the cruel and calculating second prince, brother of the majestic king… was this Prince Leona that wanted to meet you.

If you got all that right, then one of those outlandish rumors about where prisoners were banished to, was actually right! What a weird punishment, to be transported to the animal equivalent of Hamlet. At least they weren’t actually animals, just people with animal traits?

Now, considering all that, the rumors and information you had so far, what role did you play? It was obvious that the hyena folk didn’t see you as just some random human stranger that popped out of the sky and fell onto their land. No, they held you in high regard, like a person in power, despite not having their animal traits and you not knowing a single one of them. There was this one rumor your crazy aunt used to rave on and on about whenever a trial was broadcasted. Now it made sense as to the reason she always read you bedtime stories about good guys and bad guys, was precisely because she firmly believed that theory she always talked about. She truly believed that criminals would somehow end up in fantasy tales, and die in those tales. Maybe she wasn’t crazy after all. She actually had it right on the money. Wait—

Did that mean you were going to die here? Nervously you looked over at Ruggie, who seemed completely content with walking in silence, as he led you through dry rugged lands of cliffs and stone.

As you walked beside him, careful of where you stepped, you replayed the whole story in your mind. You were with the hyenas, they called you boss, so were you… the hyena clan leader? The clan leader was respected by the rest of the hyenas, she called the shots, and dealt directly with the second prince when negotiating. It was also her who overheard the second prince betraying them when confronted by the kid prince after he returned. Then, she and the rest of her kin, attacked and killed the royal that betrayed them. Queen shit, but what happened to her after? It never clarified, since the story revolved around the kid prince and how he restored the savanna to its former glory once he reclaimed the throne. If you had to guess, she and the rest of the hyenas were probably forced into the outskirts once again, where there were little resources to live off of.  There was no immediate death for her, no violence that ended her life, but she was surrounded by poverty, starvation, and lack of water until the day she died. That was still a horrible way to die…

The ending never sat particularly right with you as a kid. Surely all the hyenas weren’t bad, so why were they all driven away while all the lions got to live in the land of milk and honey? It didn’t make much sense, considering the main villain was a selfish lion too. You for one, did not want to settle with the destined ending already set in place.

If we’re going according to the plot, then this must be when the second prince initiates first contact with the hyenas and begins to gain their trust to use in the plotted coup against his elder brother. As you got near the top of a few cliffs, on one side were the slums you just emerged from, and on the other side was vast greenery as far as the eye could see with a large colorful vibrant city. Two completely different worlds, separated just by cliffs.

From your spot this high up, you could see various animal-like folk. Yet the most common had golden ears and a shiny mane, wearing just as shiny gold and jewels with fabulous garbs, living in huge houses no-doubt furnished entirely with fine objects and appliances. In a way, the huge gap between the rich and the poor reminded you of home, and not in a good way. You scowled at the abundance these lion-folk had, while thinking of the misery the hyena folk lived in. It really was no wonder that the hyena clan leader had willingly helped in a coup, if it meant her people would finally get a piece of the wealth. The scowl grew on your lips as you spat, “Eat the rich.”

“Hear, hear!” Ruggie threw his head back and laughed, but it was a sort of desolate laugh, not one of happiness. And it was obvious as to why it came out like that as he eyed the bountiful city down below. “If it weren’t for them, you’d be the ruler of this land, you know. Doesn’t that seem great? Getting to live life without worrying when your next meal will be or if there’s even enough water to drink?”

Resuming your trek behind Ruggie, you slowly nodded along to his words. “Yeah, that sounds like a dream to be honest…” But the hyenas eventually succeeded in becoming part of the savanna. However, it doesn’t last long before the savanna becomes a desolate wasteland. Perhaps it couldn’t support both the lions and hyenas, but stories liked to claim that the hyenas just consumed far too much due to their greed. If things did go according to the story, then you would have to find a way to prevent the land from becoming barren and lifeless.

Just as you reached the top of the cliff, you and Ruggie roamed the high grounds until you spotted something. Or rather, someone.

They were a towering figure, if you had to describe them, he looked like the most intimidating bouncer to stand at the entrance to the most exclusive club. Perfectly fitting the body-guard type, he must’ve been security for the second prince. He looked to be on the younger side but he had to be over six feet tall, and with a muscular build like that, you feared that he’d easily be able to take on both you and Ruggie if things went south.

His attire was unlike yours, it was dark brown thick fabric with colorful orange and red vibrant patterns over his torso, that were mostly concealed by bronze and gold plates over his shoulders and chest. And in his hands, he held a long sharpened spear. Yup, definitely a guard. It became obvious that he noticed you, because his golden-brown eyes became laser focused on you and your companion. His ears–– among his wild mess of white hair that contrasted against the healthy bronze glow of his skin, were white pointed wolf-like ears, standing upright in attention. That’s when you noticed his long bushy tail too.

Yeah, that’s a white wolf, but there were no white wolves in the story…? Additionally, he looked nothing like Ruggie, who was short with his brown and blonde hair and beige skin, that easily allowed him to blend in with the rocky environment. Were you wrong? Was this not a story?

The wolf guy eyed you and Ruggie with suspicion before stamping the dull end of his spear against the ground and barked, “The prince approaches! His highness wants–– er… is requesting an audience with… you.” He pointed at you with his spear.

Inexperienced. You were right, the guard was young and he doubted himself with that last line. You exchanged glances with Ruggie, who must’ve been thinking the same thing as you, because he covered his mouth and whispered,

“Newbie. Fresh meat.”

You cracked a bit at that last bit, a very short and brief laugh nearly escaping your lips, to which Ruggie only grinned at before lowering his hand. The guard did not seem to appreciate the laughter in response, because his ears flattened back a bit and his frown deepened in embarrassment as he chastised, “I heard that! You disrespectful–– If you have dignity, you would respect the prince!”

“Why should I? He’s a lion, he’s definitely not my prince.” Crossing his arms, Ruggie took amusement in the wolf’s annoyance. So he continued cockily, “Yeah, we know who he is. He’s just like all those other lions, lazy, arrogant, you name it.”

The guard looked like he wanted to retaliate, but you weren’t sure if he wanted to go about it physically or verbally as he clenched his fists and gritted his sharp canines. You sent a look over at Ruggie to which he zipped his lips and offered a half-assed apologetic shrug that was directed more to you than to the wolf.

Just before you could find out if this wolf would act on impulse, a figure you hadn’t even noticed appeared from the shadows of the cliff.

“Don’t let them get to you, Jack. They enjoy seeing you all flustered.”

Immediately you whipped your head towards the approaching figure, wondering how they were so quiet. How long had they been there? When he stepped out of the shadows, you were immediately blinded by the jewels and beads wrapped around his neck and wrists. Even his red agbada was decorated with golden and orange linings, highlighting his wealth even further, as if the rare accessories weren’t enough. A mane, a long brown mane just slightly darker than his cool umber tone, was nearly enough to hide his own animal traits. Almost. You could make out the shape of large cat-like ears and a long thin tail that hung limply. A lion. This could only be Prince Leona, the second prince.

Turning his predatory green-eyed gaze over to you and your companion, he faked mock dejection before an amused type of grin appeared on his tired face. “We lions can’t be that bad. Try not to lump me in with them.”

You stood a distance away with Ruggie, carefully eyeing the prince. Right over his left eye, was a lengthy scar. At the moment he seemed… alright, but if you were right about this world’s events following the plot of the story, then this prince was to be feared. The second prince was cunning, calculating, and cruel. Very nearly did he succeed in everything. He murdered his elder brother, he completed the coup, he won over the hyenas, he became king. The only thing that went astray in his near-perfect plan, was the escape of his nephew that allowed the cub to grow and eventually become strong enough to regain the throne. That was the second prince’s one mistake that led to his demise. Slowly, albeit unsurely, you nodded your head in acknowledgement of his presence.

“Chief.” Leona nodded back regally, his curved charming smile keeping you on your toes. “I’m surprised you accepted the invitation. I didn’t think you would come. I thought maybe you’d send your little lapdog for you.”

Glancing at Ruggie, you noted his irritated frown, but the comment didn’t appear to dig into him too much. You’d have to choose your words carefully. Afterall, this was a prince you were dealing with. These were practically diplomatic issues, one misstep could bring trouble. But, luckily, you knew how things would go, and you had a rough idea of how the second prince would react according to the story’s plot. Even if things did go astray, not everyone would jump to defend the second prince. It’s said he was disliked by nearly everyone in his home kingdom.

Turning your attention back to the said royal, you responded calmly with an even smile, “I thought maybe the prince would have better manners and better brains than to just openly offend one of my own. Do you know what we do to royalty that step out of their kingdom?”

Once those words left your mouth, Jack bared his teeth and pointed his spear at you, bending his knees and shifting into a fighting stance.

However, Leona’s amusement at your retort quickly faded as he appeared unimpressed at his guard’s action. “Easy, boy. Relax.” Once the wolf begrudgingly lowered his spear and resumed his standing position, the prince shrugged, “It’s true, it’s not much of an invitation from me since we are still on your land. Forgive my impertinence, won’t you, chief? Where are my manners? I shall practice my curtsy next time I greet the ruler of the hyenas.”

At his sarcasm and dramatic curtsey, you gave a quick chortle. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, you know.”

“I realize that, which is why I’ve come with an offering.” Leona snapped his fingers, gesturing to his bodyguard.

You hadn’t even noticed but Jack was carrying a bulky knapsack which he removed off his back at the sound of the prince’s snap. Zipping it open, he dumped all the contents of the bag onto the space between himself and the royal. Shaking it to make sure it was empty, he then tossed the bag aside, leaving a sizable pile of canned rations and packed goods. The metals and reflective packaging shone in the sun, tempting the hyena beside you.

Holding out your arm, you stopped Ruggie from jumping into the pile of food, shaking your head at his hands itching to snatch up every single object he could carry. This was it, you realized. This was how he befriended the hyenas and earned their trust. He bore gifts they desperately needed in the name of good-will, and only later did he reveal his plot that required their assistance. It wasn’t a friendship, it was something akin to a treaty. A treaty that would one day be torn to shreds the moment he betrays the hyena-folk. When you looked up, everyone was watching you, waiting to see what you would do. It felt as if the lion was patiently biding his time until you fell into his trap.

The plot was moving forward. Leona needed the hyenas, he couldn’t complete the coup all on his own. So either way, with or without your approval, he would win the majority of the hyena-folk by his false good-will. You could reveal to Ruggie and the others that you weren’t who they thought you were, but that didn’t work before. Even if it did work this time, what then? Would they turn on you? Would they accept you but lower your standing in the ranks? Or would you be banished, die stranded in a hot desert where the vultures would peck at your remains? There was that option, or… you could stay and play the role of chieftain of the clan. Then, with your knowledge of the story, you could alter the course of the future, get rid of the kid prince and keep the kingdom from declining once the hyenas arrived, and live the rest of your life in the beautiful land of plenty. To be honest, that last option sounded way better than the first.

Clearing your throat, you began, “I see what you’re doing here, Prince Leona. Offering food with a smile, waiting for us to eat out of your hand like obedient mutts so you can save us in your backpocket for something… devious. I respect that.” Focusing your gaze on the surprised prince, you once again flashed another smile before nodding to Ruggie, to which the hyena immediately dove forward to claim the offering. “But if you want our trust, or are trying to fool us, it’s going to take a lot more than that.”

In an instant, Ruggie had shoved every single ration and good back into the sack. Once done, he threw it over his shoulder and merrily gave a salute, jogging backwards until he was right back at your side. “Pleasure doing business!”

“Distribute that when we get back.” You murmured to the hyena, then averting your attention back to the important matter at hand. The prince. Giving him a thankful nod, you began to take your leave, following after your energetic companion, but not without bidding your goodbye, “Prince Leona, and Jack, was it? I look forward to next time. And next time, try not to underestimate us.”

At your words, Leona merely scoffed, his smile gone as he warned slowly, “Oh no, perhaps you shouldn’t underestimate me. But for now… Be well, little chieftain.”

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

By the second visit, a week had passed.

In that week, you had begun to get a feel for what this role you took over required. It may have seemed like an attractive role, to be a clan leader beloved by many, but it was tiring and grueling work. It required hard labor, there wasn’t a moment you weren’t busy either with tasks directly for the clan or by solving disputes within the community. Directing the groups of expert pick-pockets and looters to areas of the prosperous kingdom where King Falena was least likely to appear on his rounds, assisting in separating and handing out the stolen goods when the group returned, collecting foraged foods to cook with a group designated to prepare meals with the little they had, that was only a small list of responsibilities you had somehow managed to successfully deal with since arriving. The meals you had were not full course ones, but it was just enough to get by on, but not enough to keep you full since you’d wake up every morning with an aching hunger.

As you climbed up the cliff to the meeting spot designated by the prince who once again sent word through Ruggie, you were followed by said hyena. The guy was really a huge help around here, it was no wonder that everyone in town loved him, even if he was conniving, he only really ever plotted against the lion-folk.

In your head, you went over the story for the umpteenth time. You couldn’t remember any other specific reason the second prince would visit again unless he was trying to further build the foundation of trust. To be honest, you had been so busy trying to complete your work and blend in the past few days, that you had forgotten about the prince for a while. Until now that is. When you arrived at the meeting spot, Jack and Prince Leona were already there waiting.

As soon as the lion’s green gaze landed on you, a smile appeared on his face. You didn’t like his smile. It was the type of smile that felt like it was hiding something, it felt like more of a grin or a smirk. But perhaps that’s just the way he smiled. “Why, if it isn’t the chieftain descending from on high to meet me? Or shall I say, ascending from down low.” His gaze flickered to the run-down abodes down below.

“Haha, uh-huh, watch it, Prince.” You raised your gaze to meet his, having to look up at him as he casually strolled past you. Getting close enough that you worried he might try something. “Let’s speak privately. You seemed to doubt my sincerity last time, so let me try again. Jack.” Turning to face his personal guard that approached when summoned, Leona gestured to the wolf and continued, “Take him. You have him for one week. Use him as you like. Through intense labor, guarding, whatever. He’ll serve you well, just try not to use him for your little thieving parties. If caught, I’d rather not have to explain to the court why my own guard was working hand-in-hand with you hyenas, stealing from citizens of the kingdom. He’s a good guard, comes from the northern continent, new and naive but he has enough strength to overpower some of my brother’s own guards. But I laid claim to him before Falena could.”

You eyed the muscular guard up and down, looking at Ruggie who appeared just as caught off guard as you were. When your companion met your gaze, he shrugged, looking uncertain. Turning your attention back to the guard, you crossed your arms and inquired, “And what’s your say on this, big guy? You’re really okay being left here for a week in this wasteland?”

Those big pointed ears of his perked up as he peered down at you, looking the tiniest bit astonished that you would even ask his opinion on this matter. Actually, you were a little offended, because you could clearly tell he was surprised.

“I’m not gonna take you if you don’t want to come. Please, I am not as savage as your royal master here.”

That slight smirk on Leona’s face and lack of denial spoke volumes.

Jack nodded, hesitantly bowing his head in respect as he answered, “I’d be honored to be part of any deal to mend relationships between the hyena-folk and the rest of the kingdom.”

Ah. Now it all made sense. That’s how Leona was painting it out to be to his loyal guard. In reality, what Jack said wasn’t that far from the truth. Hyenas would become part of the kingdom, but probably in not the manner he expected it to happen.

“Well, that settles it, doesn’t it, chieftain?”

“I guess it does.” Shifting your attention from Leona and with one more glance at Jack, you resisted the urge to laugh at the wolf’s slowly wagging tail and determined expression. Poor guy really thought he was going to make a meaningful difference, when he was all just a pawn in the prince’s plot… “Ruggie, take Jack down to the town and show him the ropes. Give him a job that won’t get us in trouble with the king.”

Your subordinate side-eyed the guest who was looking at him expectantly, before frowning and finally waving at him to follow. “C’mon, let’s get outta here and let them talk boring politics. I’ll show you around then tell you where you’ll be working the rest of the day.”

You watched the two take their leave and head back down to the town, ignoring the way Leona purposefully stepped closer. So close that his thick locks nearly brushed against your nose when he turned to walk away. “As he said, let’s talk politics.” You watched as he sat on a large rock conveniently placed under the shade of the higher cliffs, and he gestured for you to do the same. So you sat across from him on another rock, and continued with your inquiry, “Why are you so incessant on gaining our trust?”

“Hm, I wonder…” He hummed, pulling out a bag that was hidden behind the very rock he sat on. Without any explanation as to what was inside, he dropped it at your feet. You had a decent guess as to what it was. Supplies. “Here you are. Now, I’ll be taking my leave––”

Watching him get up, you remained seated and merely murmured, “If you won’t answer me, you won’t receive my trust. Trust is a two way street, you know? So if you tell me what it is you want, we might actually make progress today instead of just ending at another standstill.” When he stood still, you murmured with a confident smile, “You want the throne, don’t you?”

Those tired green eyes carefully studied you before he grinned with equal confidence and muttered, “You aren’t the real chieftain, are you?” You slipped up and froze, your expression dropping, and that’s when he knew he had you. “The real chieftain wouldn’t take the initiative to extend conversation with me, or have the confidence to tease. And yet, the hyenas appear to treat you the same. I wonder if they have realized, hm?”

A standstill once again. You felt your throat dry, uncertain how to respond. He had you, but you had him. If you revealed his secret, then he could be banished from his homeland or worse, and he’d never ever get to sit on the throne. If he revealed your secret, you may be a goner, there was still that slim chance that the hyenas would turn on you. When he didn’t sit down, you gulped and hesitantly tried, “Your brother… what would he say?”

“You would tell him? Oh, how the thought of my big brother knowing makes me quiver with fear.” He mockingly hissed, chuckling at the end. “Falena knows I wish to be king, he just cannot comprehend the things I would do to attain the crown. Even if you could reach him, why would he have any reason to believe the word of a lowly being from the hyena clan? Is it not as you said? Trust is a two-way street.” A smirk curled on his lips, revealing his unnaturally sharp canines. “Let’s establish a bit of trust between us, little chieftain. You must know, I mean no disrespect. I have a certain… respectfor those that try so hard to be on par with me.”

You watched him carefully, feeling your nerves rise until he slowly sat back down. Only then could you breathe a sigh of relief, but you didn’t, because you had to keep your guard up around him. You couldn’t allow another little thing to slip, and give him the upperhand. Meeting his tired green eyes that never once strayed away from your form, you admitted, “I just want to survive.”

For a moment, he was quiet, looking you up and down, analyzing you as he slowly leaned against the larger stone behind him where he rested one arm. “Life's not fair, is it, my deceitful friend? I’d gamble and say wherever you’ve come from, whatever your circumstances, they were not much better than they are now, are they?”

The trial and your banishment immediately came to mind once his words reached your ears. You averted your gaze downward and frowned as you thought of how cruelly you were tossed out of the community, how they did not care what would happen to you now. And then there was everything beforehand, your personal grapples and struggles with the rigid rules of that society. It left a bitter taste on your tongue. Somehow, it's as if Leona sensed your anger and hate boiling inside. It might actually be similar to himself, perhaps that’s why he one day snapped and decided that what he desired most far outweighed the lives of those few who loved him.

At your silence, he continued, “While some are born to feast, others spend their lives in the dark, begging for scraps. The way I see it… you and I, are exactly the same. We both want to find a way out, and that way is through what my brother has.”

Your eyes shifted back up to his neutral expression. You knew what was coming. But, you were curious, “Why confide in us? Why not just challenge the king in the duel? You do have that right, since you're from royal blood just like him. Ritual combat is the easy way out, isn’t it?” You already partially knew of the answer to this, but maybe now, under these changed and special circumstances, he would give up more information.

At that, he scoffed, appearing irritated as he replied, “You think facing Falena is the easy way out? Tsk. I’d call you a fool, but you clearly aren’t that. Just ignorant at times. I wouldn’t dream of challenging him again.” Leaning forward, he folded his hands together, and then his mood began to change. That vexed frown began to steadily shift into an eager grin, an ominous one that showed hunger. Not a gluttonous hunger for food or drink or anything of that sort, it was a hunger for power, and the second prince was starved of it. “Unfortunately, I don’t have the mighty strength his royal highness has. But, I do have something he does not best me in: brains.”

There it is. The proposal. This was it.

Leona turned his head to the horizon, noting the direction of the sun that was beginning to fall, day was turning to night. Gazing at the colorful sky with you silently observing as you remained in his company. “I believe I should be going.”

What? You watched incredulously as Leona stood from his seat and stretched his arms over his head, opening his jaw to let out a big old yawn. What lax behavior for a prince. And what was his deal? Cutting things off when things were just getting good! You felt like you just watched the most anticipated episode of a soap opera only for it to end on a cliffhanger at the huge climax, but also… it felt like he finally moved the knife away from your throat, metaphorically speaking. It felt like he was doing this on purpose, so his words would haunt you until the day he returned. “That’s it?”

Noting your frown, the prince gave a lazy grin as his arms swung back against his sides. “Don’t be too depressed. I’ll be back in a few days for my guard, and to continue these talks with you. And I won’t hold your little secret over your head, as long as you don’t hold mine against me. I have a very interesting proposition that you and your kin will love, one I’m sure we can all agree to without the use of our secrets. But until next time, consider to what lengths you’d go for yourself… and your clan, of course.” Nodding his head to you in acknowledgment, he turned away and began his trek back home, but not before leaving you with these thoughts weighing heavy on your head, well over an armful of supplies to carry home, and those familiar parting words, “Be well, little chieftain.”

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

Over the next few days, not only had Leona’s words truly haunted you and prevented you from getting sleep at night, but you also had to keep watch over the wolf on top of your usual duties.

But surprisingly, Jack fit in just fine. You weren’t sure what to expect from the guy in the first place, considering he was pretty out of place in this setting and you still had no idea what role he played in the original tale. Yet somehow, he seemed to fit right in, swiftly handling chores that would usually take multiple people hours long to complete, getting along with the village children running about and mischievously attempting to trip him up, and beginning to look up to the conniving Ruggie. Everyone was incredibly weary that a palace guard was among the community, some even questioned your decision, but when he showed he was useful, he was gladly accepted. Most even thought he was humble and pretty amusing for such a tough guy to be so dedicated to following your right-hand hyena.

Speaking of following… You had caught the wolf stalking you on multiple occasions, but never outright admitting he was tailing after you. Had you been had? Was Jack actually instructed to spy on you by that second prince? No, there was no way. Jack had rigid morals and stooping so low as to spy under the guise of a diplomatic deal to mend relations would definitely go against those morals. Although you did have to admit, it was pretty funny to see him try and sneak around to shadow you when he stuck out like a sore thumb.

One day, in the middle of his stay, you were startled to find him outside of your room, so alarmed that you mistook him for someone else with the lack of brown hyena appendages, that you nearly brought out your dagger to strike. Only for him to greet you good morning rather enthusiastically, confusing you with the change of attitude from him. It was different from what you were used to. Ruggie was fairly quiet in the mornings, he was much kinder, at least to you and those he cared for, so he’d greet you with a dopey smile and sparkle in those downturned eyes. Jack, however, was not like that. His greeting was reminiscent of that of a soldier at morning salute, not smiling but still full of energy. Then he’d only take his leave once you informed him where you would be throughout the day.

Then came the unexpected acts of service. Whenever you required assistance with a chore or had to send word out, the hyenas would listen to your commands obediently. But Jack took that to a whole other level. Whenever he had completed his tasks, he’d come to you, taking up the role of subordinate much to Ruggie’s annoyance. The only way you could get the wolf off your back and to stop him from taking over your own chores, was to give him a list of more tasks that was hopefully enough to keep him busy for the next few hours. Yet somehow despite all that, it never was enough to stop him.

At dinner time when most of the clan sat down to eat at the center of the village, he’d serve you and proudly explain that he helped hunt and gather food for the day! Just when you thought you could get away after eating, you’d be dead wrong. Because somehow, Jack would find you, and escort you home, despite your insistence that you didn’t need a personal guard to walk you home. It had only been one day, but the guy was already starting to get on your nerves. How did Leona even deal with him?

So when you were greeted by him on the final day of his stay, you decided to cut things off here.

“Look, Howl, answer me this. Why are you so insistent and respectful all of a sudden?” You crossed your arms, eyeing him warily as you continued your small interrogation. “Didn’t you nearly attack me and Ruggie the first time we met? You seemed like you hated us, so why the change? Huh?”

At your words, his ears flattened in shame and he averted his gaze down to the uneven ground, looking like a kicked puppy. “I misjudged you and your clan, I’m sorry… I’ve been trying to make it up to you.”

“What?”

“I’ve been watching you, and you’re a respectable leader, more than most give you credit for.” Did he not realize how weird that first line sounded? “I have to apologize. I fell for the rumors without knowing anything about you, and that was wrong. In the kingdom, they don’t exactly say the most… flattering things about you and the others. But they’re dead wrong!” At his sudden exclamation, your eyes widened and you stared at him as he continued his rave angrily, as if he were the one being whispered about. “You aren’t some mangy stupid rude crook! You’re fair, selfless, and diligent! And all the hyena-folk starving and living like this… they don’t deserve it!!”

“Are you done?” You frowned at his outburst, waiting until he pursed his lips together and silently nodded. His fluffy white tail hanging limply behind him. Well, he was sincere, even if everything he said wasn’t true, at least about you. You weren’t all those good things he said, you were just doing this to survive, to save and later improve your own life. However, if accepting his apology meant you would finally get some breathing room, then you had no choice but to accept. “It’s alright. You’re forgiven. Besides, complaining isn’t going to help us in any way. If that weren’t the case, you’d hear me complaining all the time.”

Jack remained quiet, slowly nodding, “You’re right… Which is why I’m going to help for as long as I can!” He what…?Looking even more determined than before, he gazed down at you and confided, “You’ll be striking up a deal with my boss, won’t you, chieftain? Now I know why he’s so incessant on sending rations every once in a while! And the king… he wouldn’t approve so that’s why he’s gotta do it in secret!”

Yeah, no, Leona was most definitely not sending supplies out of the pure goodwill of his heart.

“I want to stay here with you, and help out as much as I can! Until people won’t go hungry anymore!”

“Uh-huh…” You muttered, noticing his slowly wagging tail. He was getting way too worked up over this. “Don’t you know, if the king heard you say all that stuff, then you’d be a traitor? Hyenas and lions are sworn enemies. You’d lose everything. The only reason you’re currently not labeled as a traitor by the state, is because your boss has you here in secret.”

“I know… but Leona wants to help you guys out too, doesn’t he?”

The answer to that was… debatable. “Sure, let’s just say we both might help each other out. Why?”

“Then… I’m swearing my loyalty to you!”

You froze, stunned into silence. Without even needing to ask why, he answered.

“You know I’m from the north. I’m from a small village, a poor one. Not as poor at this one, but I know what it’s like to be in need. This place needs my help, more than the king and his kingdom do, even more than Prince Leona. So I’m going to do all I can until everyone has enough to eat and drink.” Stepping closer, you winced a bit at the rapid wagging of his tail that created a slight wind and you did not miss the instance his pointed ears perked up straight in attention. “Leona doesn’t need my help, he’s honestly stronger than me… but that doesn’t mean I’m weak! I can be useful!”

Yeah, you know. You witnessed a sparring match with him yesterday where he was able to take on five of your own men and women. Actually, with everything he’s saying now, it all made sense as to why as soon as he was victorious in yesterday’s match, he looked in your direction as if expecting praise. Total sense. Even if you did reject his pledge, you had a feeling he wasn’t exactly the type to take no for an answer.

“I’ll be your guard now, boss!” He was looking down at you expectantly again with those sparkling eyes.

Jack really had no clue what he was getting himself into, did he? You merely sighed, not willing to sit here and listen to his reasoning all morning. “Okay, you know what? Fine. Jack, welcome to the clan. Just don’t expect me to be the one to break the news to your now former boss.”

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

“Chief!”

You stirred, groaning as you begrudgingly opened your eyes, stretching out on the rough mattress and shivering from the cold of the windy outskirts. When you glanced to the side, there was Ruggie, crouching at your bedside and looking both wide-awake and alert. Blinking slowly, you muttered, “What is it, Ruggie?”

“There’s a spy! We’ve been had, boss, but they’re still around. We got them surrounded, so they’re not going anywhere.” The hyena watched as you immediately sat up, giving you space to place on your boots and grab some weapons.

You grabbed a few things, whatever seemed useful and small enough to carry on your person. Something like this hasn’t happened since you arrived, but you had a good idea on how to go about the situation from stories told to you by local residents. They said spies were much more common a few years ago, and the former clan leader could be much more… brutal in her resolve. A spy appearing now was throwing a wrench in your plan, especially if they noticed a certain white-tailed soldier here. “Who noticed them?”

“Jack. He’s the one keeping them at bay, but knowing him, he’s probably beaten them an inch within their life.”

“Shit.” Great! Just peachy! Just the opposite of what you needed. If that spy got word back to authorities that a guard of theirs had turned, it could ruin Leona’s plot. Which might mean that the hyenas would never get to live in the pride lands. When you heard running footsteps, you quickly removed the curtain separating your room from the outside. You stepped outside just in time to see a figure sprinting past your door–– that is until a thin rope was thrown at their feet, tripping them up by getting their legs tangled in the material.

Thump!

They fell over with a yelp before being dragged in the direction they had come from. In an instant, the person who had caught them and dragged them back, had tossed the remaining rope over a tall wooden pole that held a small lit candle to dimly illuminate the dark street. Jack heaved on the rope, pulling so the captor hung by their legs several feet off the ground, like some rare catch being displayed in the middle of the town.

“Y-You can’t do this to me! You’re part of the kingdom! This is treason!” The spy cried as Jack tied the rope to the pole so he could let go and they wouldn’t fall.

Slowly approaching, you announced your presence with your voice. “What do you have there, Jack?”

As soon as his ears detected your voice, he stood upright almost as if in salute as he answered, “Boss, I heard them sniffing about the storage. They planned to poison the only water source we have.” He turned to glare at the captured spy, nearly growling, “This would’ve made everyone sick, and people would’ve died.”

“Huh. I get it now.” According to your knowledge, this was not the first time something of this sort had happened before. Although the last time it happened was years ago. Several years ago, when a group of lion-folk attempted to cut off the biggest food source the hyena-folk had. Tilting your head at the spy, you noted their dark lion ears and tail. One of the few outcasted so called weak and sick lion-folk that came to the village as the only place they could go when their own turned them away.

Jack gazed down at you, murmuring, “It’s your call, boss.”

Their arms flung around wildly as they attempted to stop themselves from swinging in their captured state. From the shadows there were eyes, watching so intently, and you were sure that this snoop knew they were being watched by more than just you and the wolf beside you. They struggled to speak properly, but managed to choke out a desperate plea, “If you let me go, I-I’ll never come back here or to the kingdom! I won’t say a word about this wolf-man here. And–– I’ll tell you who sent me! But! You must promise that you won’t kill me.”

You ignored Jack’s gaze, focusing your attention on this back-stabber. You recognized them. They had been in the hunting group. Continuing your staring contest with them, watching their wide eyes and the way their chest went up and down with quick breaths in rapid succession, you finally had your reply. As calm as can be, you responded, “I swear I won’t kill you. Now, who sent you to stick your nose in where it doesn’t belong?”

Hesitating, they then groaned and relented, “The queen! The queen has been wanting to put a stop to the constant thieving and tricks by the hyenas. So she sent me to get rid of a few.”

“That’s all I need to know.” The queen was hardly mentioned in the original tale. All that you knew was that she was supposedly a strong and respectable woman, beloved by the whole kingdom, and deeply in love with the king. Oh, but now you are beginning to despise her. She too had no idea of the change that was to come. “I think it’s fair game now. She tried to take the lives of people here, so I’ll take everything from her.”

As you began to walk away and wordlessly gestured for Jack to follow, the captee began to squirming anxiously, not able to reach the rope around their ankles. They hung out like a piece of steak to dry, and for their crimes, that’s exactly how they will be treated. A piece of scrap to be torn apart bit by bit. “Wait, chief! Don’t leave me like this! We had a deal! Any crime seen has to be reported, wolf! You took that oath when you started working for the royals!”

Slowly nodding at his words, after a few more paces you noticed Jack froze. Sighing, you turned around, watching the enemy struggle like a miserable little fly caught in a web. Bending down, you picked up a sizable stone which you judged the weight of in your hands, inspecting it in your palm. “You’re right. I promised that I wouldn’t kill you. And as per his oath, Jack has to report what he saw. He can’t report what he doesn’t see.” Tossing the stone, you struck the candle atop the post, extinguishing the flame and the only light source for this block. It was night, and there was no way to see.

“W-Wait, what are you doing?”

The glowing eyes of the watching hyenas seemed to brighten in the sudden darkness. Multiple pairs of eyes steadily creeping closer to the defenseless traitor.

“Oh, wow, too bad. The light went out. Guess we can’t see.”

You ignored the traitorous lion’s cries and begs for mercy, a rapturous laughter breaking out from the multiple spectators. Their giggles rung in your ears, the pure multitude of them overpowering the fearful shrieks of the one criminal. You managed to get the former royal guard to look ahead instead of back behind him, escorting the wolf further down the road because from your room you were certain you would still be able to hear the carnage about to take place. As Jack went a few steps ahead before taking a turn at a block, you lingered behind, looking back to see the enemy screaming and wriggling wildly but to no avail. They continued to hang from their feet as the glowing eyes from the darkness crept closer and closer, no doubt ready to strip them for all they had and give them a punishment for their betrayal that could only make them yearn for the sweet release of death.

You followed with Jack, getting far away, enough so you could no longer hear the pained screeches and wails of misery. Once far enough, you questioned, “Did you know? About the queen?”

Jack whipped his head towards you, his white hair rising a bit. He looked as if you asked him if he poisoned the water. Betrayed. “No!! I’d never do something as low as that!”

“It’s just a question.”

He frowned deeply, ears flattening as per usual when he was somber. “Why did you do that…?”

Stopping in your tracks beside him, you looked up at him, able to see his features well on these dimly lit streets. “What, that back there? If we let them go, they would’ve reported you anyway. I know their type. Besides, I have to help out my own, don’t I? That’s my job.”

His expression went blank, but you could practically see the words being processed in his head. The more it registered, the more his ears perked up and the faster his bushy tail wagged. It was difficult for him to hide that slight curve tugging at the corner of his lips, no matter how hard he tried to remain stone-faced. “Your own…” That meant acceptance, didn’t it? “Right, I understand now… Thanks, chief.”

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

Maybe saying that to Jack was a mistake. His insistence on being your closest subordinate had only worsened, if that were even possible. He burned through chores and tasks even faster, sticking by your side like glue. As you tried to escape his presence at least for a minute, you found yourself on the outskirts of the village by the abandoned bones of giant creatures and in the dark rocky valley where most lion-folk wouldn’t dare venture.

In between two small cliffs, you were abruptly yanked up in a tiny cranny where a familiar hyena quickly motioned to keep quiet. It was a small little nook he found off the ground, a cool shaded perch nestled between the larger rocks. Holding a single finger up to his lips in a shushing motion, he grinned when he heard the wolf calling your name was getting further and further away. After a moment, he finally relaxed, sighing loudly, “Man, I thought that beefcake would never leave! Seriously, who’s he think he is? He’s practically trying to rob me of my top spot! I’ve worked my tail off for this place beside you, you know? Jack won’t ever understand, he could only dream of getting on my level with you! I kept my promise, you know.”

“Hm?” When you turned your head to look over at him, he was gazing at you with those gray eyes, watching you intently. Before a content looking smile steadily overcame his features.

“My promise, you remember, don’t ya? When you used to take care of us and the other kids, just because you were the oldest and the strongest. So you’d go out and make those dangerous rounds into the kingdom all on your own, and you’d always come back with just enough food for us to share. But you were always injured somehow.” In this small space, he had to sit curled up, bending his knees but using them as a spot to lean the side of his head against. He continued to smile at you, giggling at those mysterious memories in his head. “It worried us sick when you left, and when you came back scratched up we couldn’t stop cryin’. So one day, I promised you that I’d get stronger to help you out and… Well, I’ve kept that part of the promise. Now the only part left is the part where I swore we’d live in a huge fancy palace one day where you didn’t have to go out and do the hunting!”

So Ruggie was close to the real chief, even before they became leader of the clan… It made you feel slightly guilty for taking up this moniker. But you had no choice when you were tossed into this world with no warning. However, even if Ruggie couldn’t fulfill this childish promise, you would. It was the least you could do, not just for yourself, but for the rest of the hyena-folk. He helped you so much in that first week. Leaning your head against the wall, you responded quietly, “I’ll make sure you get to live in a palace someday soon, Ruggie. I promise.”

“Don’t say that, or I’m gonna hold you up to it! Besides, I promised first. Make up your own.” He laughed, playfully bumping his shoulder against yours as a cheeky grin spread on his lips. After a moment, he waited, gazing at you impatiently as he tilted his head and rested it back against his knees. “Well? C’mon, tell me, what’re you gonna promise to me?”

“What should I promise you…?” Tapping your finger against your chin, you pondered on the thought. What would Ruggie want? Scratch palace off the list, because he already claimed that. An abundance of food seemed like an option, but you rather not risk promising him that and watching the land run out of resources. Promising him a place in the pride lands was a bit too much on the nose. It would just make you seem suspicious when you would eventually get all the hyena-folk access to the pride lands. Finally, after a few moments of thinking with no ideas, you shrugged and inquired, “Well, what do you want, Ruggie? What can I give you?”

That cheeky grin grew wider, stretching across his face as he averted his gaze, beating around the bush and drawing out his words for further suspense. “Welllll… Actually, there is something I can think of, call me greedy.”

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed, feeling your own smile begin to form. “Okay, greedy, what is it?”

If you took a peek, you could see his short brown tail moving side-to-side rapidly as he lifted his head, “Swear you won’t laugh? Even if it is mushy and stuff?”

Amused, you gave a soft chuckle, “I swear, I won’t laugh. Even if it’s mushy.”

Shifting so he was facing you with his legs crossed, he began somewhat hesitantly, almost nervously, before gaining a bit of confidence the more he went on. “I want you to promise me that I’ll always be your number two, and you’ll always let me stay beside you.”

Raising an eyebrow, it suddenly hit you. Ruggie was jealous of Jack! At that realization, a small laugh escaped your lips as you poked him, pestering him for a response as you teased, “Aww, were you jealous of that big bad wolf~? Is that it? I should’ve known! You’ve always been sticking by me, then Jack comes and ruins your flow. Who would've guessed?”

“Shut––! I’m not jealous!” He hissed, growing embarrassed. “You promised you wouldn’t laugh, you lyin’ little––!”

Laughing and giggling reached your ears, causing you and Ruggie to both freeze. His semi-round ears perked up, both of you listening intently to the voices. It sounded like two children, but it wasn’t familiar. Leaning your ear closer to the stone wall, you listened to the voices that were getting closer and closer, almost directly below the hiding spot you were in.

“This is it. Just like my uncle said!” One of the voices whisper-yelled, as if they were worried about whatever may lurk just around the corner, or just above them. It sounded like a young boy. But none of the children you had encountered in the village sounded like him, and you met practically all of them.

The second voice piped up. It was the voice of a young girl. “It’s so creepy… People really live out here?” That implied they were children not from the outskirts.

Then you were reminded of a scene from the original story. The young prince, son of the majestic king, heard a secret from his uncle, the second prince. The second prince told him of a graveyard full of bones among the outskirts, just past the kingdom’s reach, where only the bravest of souls ventured and returned from. The young kid prince, being such an ambitious child, foolishly snuck out to the outskirts with his friend. There, they were attacked by the hyenas, for the outskirts were their territory. The only reason the two children and royal attendant who arrived late to save them, were not killed, was because the majestic king arrived just in time to fend off attacks and warn the hyenas to never attack his son again. That scene was about to happen, right now.

As the two children, the kid prince and his friend, went back and forth, you and Ruggie exchanged glances. Steadily a grin spread on the hyena’s face as he mouthed: fresh meat.

Before he could even think about moving, you held up your hand, motioning him to keep still and quiet as you detected an additional pair of steps. Steps coming quickly, heavier, meaning it was someone in a rush. Someone heavier than a child. “Wrong! The only thing we’ll be doing is going home! We’re way beyond the boundaries of the kingdom!”

The royal attendant that served the king himself, there was no mistaking it. It was happening. Silently, you and your right-hand hyena listened to the slight bickering and scolding occurring between the young royal and the attendant. As much as you wished to end the king’s royal lineage here, which would allow Leona to take the throne once Falena passed, that would take far too long. The kid prince couldn’t die here. He needed to remain alive, that way you could be sure to kill two lions with one stone later. Besides, killing the two later by staging the accident was much more preferable to killing the young prince in cold blood while the king remained alive and could wreak havoc in revenge.

Ignoring the continuous conversation down below, you looked over at Ruggie who appeared antsy. “Now?” He whispered impatiently.

You shook your head. You didn’t want to face the majestic king alone if he really was strong enough to make people fear him. So, turning your attention to Ruggie, you replied in a hushed tone, “Backup first. No wolf in this royal business. And I want them alive.” You grinned, giving him the sign to go. “Scare them good.”

The royal attendant quickly attempted to usher them away, but the two children stubbornly refused to budge. “Right now, we’re all in very real danger––!”

Interrupting him was a whistle. A slow quiet whistle in an ominous tune, carried on by the wind which seemed to make it echo throughout the entire area, bouncing off the bones and walls of the rocky terrain and carrying it beyond. Any hyena-folk or a wolfman within close distance would be able to pick up on the whistle with their ears, and those of the clan might be able to decipher its message. Backup needed. Only hyenas, no wolf or lions. Capture guests alive.

The whistling had caused the three unexpected guests to become paralyzed in fear, you could see the hairs on the back of their neck were raised in alarm. First they heard Ruggie, who’s whistling had turned to cackling at their expressions of freight.

You too couldn’t contain your laughter at their pure fear. “Heh, Ruggie, when I said give them a good scare, I didn’t mean to the point of making their souls leave their bodies.”

The hyena shrugged, giggling as he followed you when you stalked closer to the unexpected guests. “Gee, boss, what can I say? It’s not my fault it’s as easy as stealing candy from a baby.”

You ignored the other two, and honed in on the kid prince, the protagonist, the hero of the story. Too young to fight back, yet one day he’d be powerful enough to defeat even Leona. “How unexpected to be greeting the son of a king.”

The three had nowhere to run, not when the reinforcements arrived. Soon, they were surrounded by a good number of hyena-folk. One thing you learned about hyena-folk is that they were small and gaunt due to lack of nutrition, but they worked frighteningly well together in groups to defeat much bigger and stronger opponents. As you focused solely on the little prince, you examined his features as he bravely stood in front of his friend. There was a healthy glow in his bronze cheeks, and his hair was unlike his Uncle Leona’s. His short messy locks were thick strands of a bright orange that faded into yellow, and he had big brown eyes that never broke eye contact with you. “Two children and a servant of the king’s. I know exactly who you are.”

The royal attendant interjected, stepping between you and the two lion-kids. “Let them go, chief! We did not mean to step on your land. We will leave immediately!” No matter how he spoke, you could tell he was scared but his tone and the way he stepped back each second when you didn’t stop moving forward, forcing the two younglings behind him to step back as well. Had he been a hornbill bird like in the original tale, his feathers would surely be all ruffled by now. “If you do this, you will start a war with Falena!”  

“Hyenas and lions have been at war since anyone can remember.” Removing your knife from its sheath, you gripped its handle in your hand. In its reflection, you could see Ruggie and the other hyena folk appearing fidgety and ready to sink their claws at any given moment, while dread and terror crept onto the faces of the three in front of you. “But with this… I can cause the kingdom a tiny shred of grief, just as they have caused the village a world of pain.” All you wanted to do was knick them, a cut small enough to draw blood, but when you lunged forward, the royal attendant threw the long blue sleeves of his cloak at you, effectively blinding you but only for a moment.

As soon as you lunged, so did the others. Those hyenas closest to you, instantly removed the royal attendant and pinned the squirming man to the ground. When you could finally see again, it revealed you were correct on your guess. The two lions had run, with some of your own chasing behind them until they were led to the underground tunnels. Placing your knife back at your hip, you scowled at the royal attendant now restrained and unable to help those he was tasked to protect. “Keep him there, don’t let him go. The rest of you, after them!”

From where you remained, you could hear and see the hyena-folk running about, in and out of the maze of tunnels. They were small, yes, but the children were smaller, so they’d no doubt get away until they were cornered, just as they did in the original plot. But this was exactly what needed to happen for the plot progress. There was no point in changing the plot now. It was best to change the plot when you could reap the most, and that was not now. It was a loss required to win in the grand scheme of things.

It didn’t take long for the two lion-children to reemerge from a hole in the ground, leading the two to become surrounded. The two huddled together, fearfully scanning the faces of the dozens of hyena-folk that surrounded them.

Three.

The young prince bared his baby fangs, letting out a squeak of a roaring war cry. A pathetic example, probably puny compared to his father. Speaking of which, he should be here soon, judging by how the royal attendant was gone meaning he had somehow escaped the grasp of his hyena captors. That attendant would probably be sending out an alert by now.

Two.

You watched, unimpressed as the hyena-folk present broke out into laughter at the cub’s tiny yeowl, their heightened anxiety only doing more to add to the hyena’s howling cackles. Even Ruggie was doubled over in laughter, but you knew better than to lower your guard right now, especially as a few of the underlings poked and prodded for the little prince to do his war cry once again.

One.

You grabbed Ruggie’s collar and pulled him back just the young prince opened his mouth, and a much powerful louder war cry like a terrifying roar could be heard that echoed in the space all around them. Just in time, you watched as the hyena-folk stepped back in alarm at the sudden noise. Towards the back of the crowd, you could make out the scene of some of your own men and women being flung to the side like rag dolls by a mightier figure. It was clear by just that glimpse, that this was King Falena, and he was stronger than even Prince Leona and former royal guard Jack. You couldn’t watch these people get hurt anymore, so you whistled, instantly signaling your kin to back away as the lionman’s ears perked up at the noise from your direction.

When he rushed forward to stand closer to the two children, you nodded at your kin to step further away, giving him plenty of space and no one within radius to attack. Their brown and black semi-round ears were flattened as they kept their distance, none daring to attack, not that you would make them right now. You felt Ruggie’s hand on your back, he too kept low and didn’t engage.

When the king’s brown-eyed gaze turned to you, it held nothing but pure fury. Now that you were looking at the majestic king of the tales, he really did look like his son, the similarities were uncanny. But King Falena didn’t look anything like his brother, Prince Leona. Falena had bright brown eyes that must’ve been usually filled with kindness whenever his son wasn’t in danger, Leona had watchful green eyes that felt they were judging you with every move you made. Falena had a long warm-colored mane with sand-colored fur on his lion traits, while Leona had a dark mane with dark brown fur on his lion traits. Falena had a stature and was built with an incredible strength that must’ve even greatly surpassed your wolf guard, and while yes Leona had a sure strength himself he was only a few inches shorter than Jack. It really was no wonder Leona had never won the crown through ritual combat. No matter how you saw it, Leona couldn’t beat Falena through a battle of brawn. However, a battle of brains may have a different outcome…

“If you ever come near my son again––”

You stood your ground as he stood close, his face merely inches in front of yours. Behind your back you gripped the dagger in your palm, resisting the urge to plunge the weapon through his eye. Imagine that, if you could give the king a scar matching his disgraced brother. It took everything not to snap back, attack him for all he and his kingdom had done by leaving the hyena-folk to rot. But somehow, you didn’t lunge forward. You only nodded slowly, answering firmly, “No, Falena, never again.” Patient. You needed to be patient this time.

“You’ve been warned, chieftain.” Falena growled before turning around, giving his son one last firm look before silently escorting them through the crowd of hyenas that parted ways for them to take their leave.

Once they were gone, you gazed around, seeing the hyena-folk help the injured and wounded by Falena’s short rampage. Behind you, Ruggie emerged, moving in front of you to do a once over, despite knowing you had barely even touched anyone throughout that entire ordeal. “Are you good?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Perfectly fine…” Just then, your gaze traveled up to the cliffs. High on the top of the rocky terrain, was that familiar lionman, the second prince, gazing down at the scene with a slight frown. When his green eyes flitted over to you, you frowned in turn as a small smile appeared on his face before he promptly disappeared away from sight. “Ruggie, you stay and help the others. I have to have a little talk with our prince friend.”

It didn’t take very long to reach the top of the cliff where you found the second prince lounging in the shade. Leona didn’t spare you a glance, and he didn’t even open his eyes, but you knew he was awake. When his ear slowly flickered, he sighed, “Why didn’t you kill them?” When you blinked, his eyes were open, those green orbs gazing at you intently. “You had the perfect opportunity. Yet you hesitated.”

Begrudgingly, you sat down across from him, frowning at his lazy form. “Because I know you have a better plan. A plan that will get rid of both Falena and his son.”

A sly grin made itself visible on the curve of his lips, and you felt that you made a mistake before the words even left his lips. “I never once told you that, or anybody about that.” Shit. Sitting up before pushing himself up to his feet, he slowly began to circle you as he mused, “You know, you always seem to know what’s going to happen, before it happens. Somehow, you were able to get this far without any of your clan noticing you aren’t the true chief. You’re always looking at me with this wise-ass look, like you’re so proud that you can predict what comes next. When we first met, for a brief second there was a look of… disbelief on your face when you kept staring at me. After pondering on the possibilities after our last meeting, I think I figured you out. It sounds insane, but then again, I’m not completely sane if you haven’t noticed by now. But you aren’t even from this world, are you? You had this foreign scent on you when we met, it was something I couldn’t name even if I tried, but now all you smell like is hyena. Then I looked into it. I went down to the kingdom’s marketplace, I even contracted merchants to bring me sweet-smelling products from all around the world. But nothing matched that scent you had on the first day, nothing at all. At least… nothing in this world.”

You went still as he stopped pacing, and opted to plop close down beside you. Incredibly close, so much that his arm that propped up half his upper weight was against your arm. You could feel his warmth, but his close proximity made you squirm in place. You didn’t move an inch though, because even scooting over an inch would be giving him a sign that you would bend to his will.

As he leaned against you, you glared at his amused expression. That cocky smirk was on his lips, because he knew he had you in his claws. When he spoke, he was so close that he only had to speak in a low and husky whisper. “This time, I brought a proposal instead of an offering. But I want to hear you tell me what it is I’m planning.”

You were silent.

“Well?”

Under the pressure, you finally relented. “Fine. But only if you answer one question I have.”

It only took a second of consideration until he hummed, “Of course. That’s only fair, chieftain.”

Taking a deep breath, you averted your eyes away from intense green-eyed gaze, attempting to forget the fact that his face was literally inches beside yours. There was no point in hiding it from him anymore, was there? He already knew everything. “My guess is that you’ll want to do it in the gorge. You’ll have myself and some of the other hyenas start a panic with wild wildebeest grazing on the grass. There’ll be a stampede, and you’ll have the little prince down there waiting. When his old man goes to save him, you’re hoping he and the prince get crushed by the stampede. If not, at least it’ll weaken them enough to finish off quietly and stage it as an accident.” When you glanced at him, you could see his grin had grown. “Did I get all that right?”

“Everything down to the smallest minute detail.” He chuckled, somehow finding this tense exchange amusing. His tail swished slowly side to side, and you couldn’t help but notice how pleased he looked with himself. “Now, your question.”

You paused, carefully considering how to go about wording this specific inquiry. All the while he continued to watch you, never once taking his eyes off you. Until finally, you had it. “Why’ve you kept me alive? If you knew I wasn’t who I said I was, you could’ve told the hyena-folk by now. You would’ve been a trustworthy figure then, at least in their eyes. They’d follow you, just like you want. You never needed my help. Besides, if you knew I knew stuff about the future, wouldn’t that mean I was a threat to your plan?”

“You see me for the wonder I am.” Noticing your confusion, he continued, “You don’t know what it’s like to be the second born, when your entire kingdom scorns you just because you were born a few years late. But now…” He chuckled, holding your chin between his fingers and forcing you to look him in the eye. “With meticulous planning and suffering through years of denial, I’ll become King. I’ll get everything I ever deserved and more. And should you help me achieve my vision, I promise you, you will do more than just survive. You shall thrive. But without me, you won’t get a thing… If it's agreed, shall we go then? Let’s inform your beloved little village of the coup of the century that will take place tomorrow.”

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

To say the clan rejoiced at the news felt like an understatement. They were elated, it led to partying and laughing all night, all of them eager to follow your command and the second prince’s plan if it meant that they could finally improve their way of living. Even Jack, who you thought you might have to deal with his refusal due to his strong morals and all, only silently listened to the declaration by Leona before approaching you and announcing he’d follow what you decided.

It wasn’t much of a choice anyways. You’d get to survive and live in splendor, and you’d improve the lives of so many hyena-folk that may have later died of sickness or starvation, all in exchange for the life of a king and his son. When the day arrived, you sent out the able-bodied hyena-folk to prepare. Burn the wild wall of thorns between the cliffs and the desert, have a few posted at every potential escape route, place watchouts on top of high cliffs so they could see everything, and above all was the warning from you to the clan. Do not let the young prince escape, because if he does, then hope for the lion-folk will live on and he may one day grow to be as powerful as his father.

When everything was prepared, you waited. You had assembled a small team to rile up the wildebeest, which consisted of yourself, Ruggie, Jack, and two other small groups of three hyena-folk currently positioned on other sides. You would frighten the creatures simultaneously, flanking from the back, the right, and the left, forcing the gigantic horde to go down into the gorge where they’d create a deadly stampede, trampling anything in their path.

Jack gazed at you silently, before he murmured quietly, as if to himself, “Is it alright to really be doing this…? To kill the king and the prince? I know you said it was, and I trust you, but…”

“Jack, you’re way too soft. It’s an eat or be eaten world! If you’re so worried about it, think about it this way. Those two lives will allow countless hyenas and outcasts like me and you to survive.” Ruggie scolded, watching as the white wolf slowly nodded. While waiting for the signal, he glanced at the wildebeest grazing on the grass before looking at you. “You know, I knew you were ruthless, boss, but going along with Leona’s despicable plan? I mean, not that I’m opposed to it, but it was surprising at first, is all.”

“I do whatever I have to for…” Me. “You and the others.” Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a figure on an opposing cliff. It was Leona, who was staring you down with a devious sort of smile. He must’ve already left his kid nephew down in the gorge. Quick to change the subject, you announced, “There. Let’s go. Jack, signal to the others.”

Obediently he fulfilled his command, standing upright from his spot leaning against the boulders and rocks they hid among. When he whistled, it rang in the air, immediately alerting not only your allies on the other side of the herd but also the wildebeest that shot up in alert.

It took one stone from you, a stone tossed at full speed, smacking the hind leg of one of the closer wildebeest, causing it to let out a deep pained noise and instinctively react by kicking about wildly, causing a chain reaction of confusion and alarm to those around it, which only spread further and further. Jack’s whistle was the sign to attack, and having already made the first move, you stood back as you watched Ruggie, Jack, and the two other hyena groups jump out of their hiding places and cause even more of a panic throughout the entire herd as they scared the beasts with their spears and knives.

You watched as the wildebeest began to scatter in the opposite direction of yourself and the clan members, leading them right into the gorge. They moved as a group. One thing about wildebeest, is that they traveled in herds with numbers ranging anywhere from a few hundred to a couple of thousands. They were so numerous and sizable creatures that caused the ground to shake when startled and running. It would be very very difficult to survive a stampede of such magnitude, maybe that’s why Leona chose such a demise in the first place.

When all of the wildebeest had been chased off the flat and into the gorge, you stood beside your subordinates and paced at the edge. Ruggie and the others looked excited, almost as if they were having fun, especially because they managed to catch and kill one of the straggling creatures. Jack looked down at the gorge, frowning but doing nothing else until he inquired, “What next, boss?”

You couldn’t be at ease until you knew that both King Falena and his prince son were dead. You didn’t want to imagine the prince getting away, which would lead you to years of sleepless nights as you would have to plot a way on how to track him down through the desert and send people to kill him. “Good job, everyone. Now, go out to individual posts along the desert. Make sure the entire perimeter is covered. The king and the prince cannot leave that gorge alive, got it?”

A chorus of hums and giggles responded, “Yes, chief.”

Once they all departed and you were alone, you slid down about halfway into the gorge. You weren’t on the ground floor, so you weren’t concerned, but for now to avoid being seen, you would keep behind boulders and rocks to blend into the environment. At this point in the story, the second prince would feign horror as he goes to inform the majestic king of the stampede occurring with the young prince trapped within the gorge. The two brothers would rush to the gorge to save the young prince. For now all you could do was follow the cloud of dust and stragglers the stampede left behind, keeping low and against the wall so you would not be spotted.

The gorge was massive, so you continued for a few minutes, all the while reciting the rest of the story from your childhood in a low mutter. “When Falena and Leona get there, they see the kid prince hanging onto a branch during the stampede. Falena jumps in to save his son, dodging almost every hit by the wildebeest. As he’s right next to the branch, he’s hit, knocked down and the branch breaks. Before the kid prince can fall to his death, his dear old dad jumps and catches him. When he lands, Falena is hit again, dropping his son. Falena manages to get up and pick up his kid, putting him on a ledge right before he’s swept away in the stampede. The prince watches in horror, looking for his dad, until he sees Falena jump out and cling to the steep wall of the gorge. He struggles to climb up, obviously weak from being hit before, but he reaches the top and there at the top… is Leona.”

Leona. There was Leona across the gorge standing upright and looking down at the figure beneath him as if they were nothing but a speck of dirt on his feet. Just below him, nails dug into the rocky walls and slipping, was King Falena. You couldn’t hear what they were saying over the thousands of hooves stomping against the ground, but you didn’t have to hear a word in order to know what was going on. This was the moment where the majestic king died. In an instant, Leona lunged forward slightly, digging his nails into the flesh on the back of the king’s palm, which caused him to emit a roar of pain. You knew what came next. You averted your gaze to the side as you heard his plummeting scream, and then it was silenced, drowned out by the continuous running wildebeest. Long live the king.

One down, one more to go. The cloud of dust left behind in the stampede’s destructive wake, concealed the bottom of the gorge from your sight. You need to get down there now. You needed to see Falena dead with your own two eyes, and you needed to make sure that the kid prince he left behind would not live to see tomorrow. Upon finding your way in the dust, you squint to see past the sandy clouds, and one of the first things you could make out upon searching the ground was the king’s motionless body on its side right under the broken branch. Yet neither of the princes were anywhere in sight.

Continuing forward, you felt your nerves spike. That kid prince must have ran–– and you could only hope the story would truly divert from its original course here and now. You could only pray to whatever cruel god there was that allowed you to be thrown into this world, that all your preparations worked to stop the runaway prince.

When you heard a footstep, you froze, hand hovering over the dagger at your hip as the approaching shadow in the cloud of dust got closer and closer. However, when it was revealed to be Leona from the ashes, your shoulders slumped, relieved of the tension. No breath of relief, because you could not be relieved when knowing that the job was not done yet. However, that tension immediately went straight back into your system when you noticed the red on his hands. By now he had already noticed you, he probably was aware of your presence far before you were aware of his. Hesitantly you gestured to the blood on his hands. “What’s that from…?”

“A finished job. It’s not mine.” He answered with an ominous smirk. Steadily he stepped closer, before announcing in a melodramatic tone, “My brother’s death is a terrible tragedy, but to lose my nephew who was swept away in the stampede and whose body was never found… For me, it’s a deep and personal loss.” No longer could he hold in his laughter as he stood right in front of you and concluded, “So it is with a heavy heart that I assume the throne. Yet out of the ashes of this tragedy, we shall rise!”

You frowned, prying your eyes away from his hands and to his face full of wicked mirth. “And the body?”

Sighing, he rolled his eyes but answered in a slight chuckle, “I knew you’d worry about that. So I had your clan dispose of the body, in the desert where no one will find him and his remains will be plucked by the vultures.”

At that moment you froze, eyes going wide. That… That might have been the fate that would have awaited you…

When he stepped closer, so close that you were practically up against his chest. You winced when he tapped the bottom of your chin until you looked up at him, painting the bottom half of your face red with the blood smeared on his fingers. Blood that was not his, whether it belonged to the king or his son, you weren’t entirely sure, and you’d rather not know. “That won’t happen to you, I wouldn’t let it happen.” He spoke, as if he sensed your current fears. Just then, another delighted smirk grew on his face and that familiar spark of desire reignited in his eyes. He had the throne, the kingdom, what else did he want? What else could he possibly gain? “I promised you that you’d thrive, didn’t I? Well, now that the throne belongs to me, I’ll make good on that promise. Your reward is the opportunity to be my royal consort.”

Your stomach dropped, feeling dread settle in the pits of your gut as his thumb moved to rub small circles on your cheek, covering you in more red. Only a small choked whisper could escape your throat. “What?”

“Be my consort.” He repeated casually, looking down at your stunned expression with amusement that made him chortle. “What better way to unite two, lion-folk and hyena-folk, then by matrimony between two leaders? You get a life of splendor and continue to hold power, while I reign as king with you by my side. It’s like… killing two lions with one stone, isn’t that right, my Little Chieftain?”

#twst #twisted wonderland #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst #jack howl #twst jack #yandere jack howl #ruggie bucchi #twst ruggie #yandere ruggie bucchi #leona kingscholar #twst leona #yandere leona kingscholar #Savanaclaw #damnation twst au

[eclipixels]

Roses

- short fluffy blurb on all the times Coryo gave you roses -

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The first time Coriolanus got you roses was when you were both 13.

You'd been going to the academy together and inevitably grown a bit close over the years. It was your birthday that day, and while everyone else gave extravagant gifts that their families could afford, all Coriolanus could give was a simple plain white rose. He was nervous, a bit ashamed that he couldn't give anything more to his best friend.

But, to his surprise, you were ecstatic. He still fondly remembers the way your eyes lit up and you threw your arms around his neck. With your face buried in his chest, a lasting impression was etched in Coriolanus's memory, marking the inception of deeper thoughts about your connection. That was the first day he started thinking about you.

The second time Coriolanus gave you roses was on your first unofficial date.

He showed up outside your window in the evening as the sun just set. He asked you to sneak out with him and with an anxious heart, you agreed. You didn't know where he was taking you, but that didn't matter. You trusted him.

"Coryo, where are we?" You giggled, his hands covering your eyes with the few steps you took. You could hear the chirping of crickets and a distant muttering of people.

"Just a few more seconds... now! Open your eyes," he grinned, observing the fascination on your face as the night sky burst into a kaleidoscope of colors. However, he personally found the way the hues painted your skin more beautiful than any firework display.

"By the way, I grabbed some flowers from my grandma'am's garden. I hope you like them," Coriolanus awkwardly reveals, pulling out two roses from his coat. Bandages adorned his fingers, evidence of the thorns that pricked him during the collection. You stood in silence, your hair tousled by the breeze, caught in the moment with a racing heart, appreciating the heartfelt gesture.

"Y/n?" he asked, a hint of confusion and concern in his voice, wondering why your silence lingered. Did he come off as weird? Was he overdoing it?

Following the whispers of your heart, you closed the gap between you two.

The third time he gave you roses was on your 2 year anniversary.

You woke up bright and early to bouquet of roses sitting in front of your door with a little handwritten note. You smiled, smelling the scent. It was so similar to his own. At this point, you associated the two with each other. Roses are Coriolanus Snow. And Coriolanus snow is Roses.

"Sorry I can't be there to greet you this morning, my love. I have to get back to the academy for mentoring, but I plan to take you out to dinner this evening. Wear the dress Tigris made for you.

XX Coryo"

The most recent time he gave you roses was when he asked you to marry him.

It was cliche. Petals scattered the path leading to a willow tree, and he somehow rounded up white doves to flutter around. As he knelt down on one knee, a single rose emerged from his coat, its fragrance mingling with the air. In his grasp, a stunning diamond ring glistened. With bated breath, he spoke those timeless four words that carry the weight of an eternity.

"Will you marry me?"

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the hunger games #coryo snow #coriolanus x you #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosbas #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #x reader #fluff #blurb

[y3nze1]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐉𝐀𝐙𝐙 | Alastor x Reader | 18+

- 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: the two lovelies had a certain night filled with jazz and passion.

- 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Smut! Pussy eating, Face Sitting, Slightly Fluffy (if you analyze enough), fic based on this song (All that Jazz - Chicago the Musical).

- 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: i had this fic stored in my notes app a while back and thinking of posting cause it's absolutely rotting. just a cute silly fic, plus hazbin hotel is popular again (and thriving), glad there's new people on there, plus I'm on my chicago obsession era. anyways, happy reading!

as the music along, you stood by the corner, watching over the dazzling showgirl prancing around while the beat pumped along. the background dancers on their marks, waiting for the pump to blow, holding fans and leathery ropes as they wrapped it around their arms. the lights turning on to a purply shade, lust fills the air.

'come on baby, why don't we paint the town?

and all that jazz.

I'm gonna rouge my knees and roll my stockings down

and all that jazz'

with a flick of a fan, the dazzling girl winked at the beat, hand movements. hypnotic, like a desert belly dancer. she cooed to the melody as the dancers did too, grinning. the trumpet hotfully playing as it glazes through the rhythm, another flick of the fan.

'start the car, i know a whoopie spot

where the gin is cold but the piano's hot

it's just a noisy hall where there's a nightly brawl'

flick the fan for another time, as the dancers waved around, going round table to table, their grabby hands wander through coats down to the bodies, swooping in to the load of treasures, a couple of papery beauties, to be hidden into their untouchable chests.

'and all..'

with a tap of your shoulders.

'that..'

A turn of your head.

'jazz~'

And a small peck of your lips as the red haired demon licked his lips slightly, softening his urges just for your taste. pulling you close to him as much as possible, like a pouncing tiger. his hands travelling through your back, gently caressing your porcelain skin. his grin widened, watching your eyes turn to the colorful stage, his hands wrapped around your waist, placing soft kisses onto your shoulders.

'slick you're hair and wear your buckle shoes

and all that jazz

i hear that father dip is gonna blow the blues

and all that jazz'

The tension onto you both was blazing, but your ears were perked to the melody, biting your lip at the dream. the dream of fame, you grinned at the mischief of being upfront, breakin, seducing, healing the blues of those little sobering men, their eyes trying to capture you.

'hold on hun, we're gonna bunny hug

i bought some aspirin down at united drug

incase we shake a part and want a brand new start

to do.. that’

The lights flashed inevitable, your eyes fleeing from reality onto the moment, your own stage to tame, and own attention to claim while you grab some and win some where old chums throw, wallop while couples getting frisky with every corner just from your voice. You hear alastor voice call out to you, snapping your awes back to reality turning your head back to him. "my dear, why don't we go out for a moment, it's getting too crowded. no?" reddened retinas glowed, that ones glaring at you with such rigor. you can help but nod along instead.

'Find a flask

We're playing fast and loose

And all that jazz

Right up here

Is where I store the juice

And all that jazz'

Alastor pulled your hands through the crowd of demons, securing your waist on his hand, the music slowly fainting away from your hearing, down to the entrance and onto the busy street, the two if you laughed and drank like never before, the night was certainly at its youth more than ever. his grin widening at a thought rushing in his mind. his fingers intertwined in your locks.

'Come on, babe

We're gonna brush the sky

I betcha Lucky Lindy

Never flew so high

'Cause in the stratosphere

How could he lend an ear

To all that jazz'

the bustling city was no matter, his hand grab yours, handling your wobbling body and your fazed mind, guiding you back. to the hotel he's staying in. his grin widened more, hearing your mindless giggles. unaware, you followed him. not like you had places to be that night anyway.

'Oh, you're gonna see your sheba shimmy shake

And all that jazz

Oh, she's gonna shimmy till her garters break

And all that jazz'

The two of you entered the hotel, your hands draped onto the crook of his shoulders, clinging onto him while he stood straight with composure, the troop glaring at your sunken figure wrapped around alastor. he winced at them enthusiastically, reminding them not to bother him with his current business. "don't not worry, I'm just helping out my dear friend here-good luck chums!” he greeted delightedly, guiding your influenced frame through the corridors. your voices of giggles echoing through the empty hall as you run around drunkenly.

'Show her where to park her girdle

Oh, her mother's bloodied girdle

If she'd hear her baby's queer'

He pulled your waist delicately, crashing his lips onto yours, his skin lingered onto your coat, slipping it down your arms, indulging the smell of booze through you breath. kissing your lips ever so passionately. suddenly hitting a door. opening was angel dust, staring at the two of you. "h-hello.. i-i.. umm, good evening.." you giggled under your breath. "this, my feminine fellow, dear. ks Angel Dust" you looked up st the grinning angel. out if words at the sight, entangled with the thoughts of confusion and pride for alastor. "im.. (...).. his cousin" while you chuckled, alastor pulled you away from the crime scene, leaving angel hanging with surprise. watching you two walk away, as he closes his door.

'Come on, babe

Why don't we paint the town?

And all that jazz

I'm gonna rouge my knees

And roll my stockings down

And all that jazz'

with a click of a lock, he carried you inside his quarters, setting aside staff, laying you in bed with a slightly aggressive action. he grinned widely, ravaging your lips once again, shoving your coat aside, rolling your stockings down, doing the same for his coat, frantically unbuttoning and shoving.

'Start the car

I know a whoopie spot

Where the gin is cold

But the piano's hot

It's just a noisy hall

Where there's a nightly brawl

And all that jazz'

He hungrily set aside the pair of your lacy tighty whiteys. his mouth swallowing your slit, happily lost in between your walls, flashing statics as he tasted your juices, flicking your bud with such attention. making you moan, grazing the sheets, raking the bed frame. his tongue slurped, encircling your precious aspect, munching on your presented treat. sweet nectar overflowing with each thrust of his tongue.

'No, I'm no one's wife

But, oh, I love my life

His heading lifting from his head, huffing like a predator. his sharp teeth licked from your juices. "sit on my face, my dear" without hesitation, you obliged to his request. your plumpness setting down onto his mouth like a throne. his fingers gripping onto your thighs while you smoothly grinded. moaning and panting at his mercy, his tongue fucking deep in your flesh.

'And all..'

You groaned loudly with the buck of your hips, his face pleasurably suffocating on your divinity. pulling you more, locking you down at each lick and slurp.

'that..'

With another buck you were close to climax, frantically chanting his name, his hands clutched onto yours while he devoured his meal, sucking your clit, his tongue buried inside, suckling in delight, his statics only grew more noisy and many.

'jazz..'

With one final thrust, you reach climax, letting out a loud moan, your back arching with pleasure, the surrounding filled with symbols, static haze corrupting, while sipping your juices, delight within his lips, you crashed down beside him, breathing heavily, finally turning the error of reality to normal once again., as you run your fingers through your hair. "thank you for the meal, my dear.."

'That jazz'

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n

[thottie777]

punishment.

*you and matt are secretly fwb and were hanging out with some friends in the evening, one the girls got a bit too touchy with him and you became very jealous, dragging him upstairs and punishing him.

-

“do you wanna fuck her?” you asked looking down at him. he shook his head vigorously, desperation in his eyes as he gazed up at you, you planted your fingers on his chin and lifted his face up a little, making heavy eye contact. “i don’t believe you” you continued, with a sultry tone, rubbing your thumb across the round of his chin, back and forth.

his expression was pathetic, he had panic in his eyes and held a distressed disposition as he submissively stared up at you. your jealousy overcame you as your mind raced images of him inside her, moaning her name instead of yours. you knew he would never touch her but you couldn’t shake the thoughts from your mind, the way she pushed his arm every time he made her laugh and kept her eyes on his lips when he spoke drove you crazy.

“did you see the way she was looking at you all evening matt? she wanted you to fuck her” you murmured, observing his soft features as he sat beneath you like a peasant, on his knees, desperately attempting to ignore the ache in your stomach that this jealousy had provoked into your body.

even though you would be secretly furious if he ever got with someone else, you couldn’t help but get turned on by the idea of him absolutely destroying another girl. you didn’t understand why it made you so wet but it did, the warmth between your legs became moist as he kneeled between them. he broke eye contact and started to trail kisses along the insides of your thighs, momentarily distracting you from the power you knew you had in this situation. his fluffy hair tickled your skin as he dragged his lips across it, your breath became slightly hitched so you quickly let out a quiet cough and cleared your throat, not letting him win in this moment.

“are you imagining her right now matt?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows down at him as his eyes were fluttered shut. he looked up briefly, breaking the union from his lips “no baby” he whispered, bringing his mouth back to your thighs as he peppered kisses in a gentle trail, keeping eye contact with you.

“i’ll” *kiss* “only” *kiss* “ever” *kiss* “want” *kiss* “you” *kiss*, he mumbled against your skin, making your core throb for him even harder. you knew he was telling the truth, but kind of enjoyed torturing him with your dominance and defiance.

“prove it”, you demanded, pulling his face up with your hands as they gripped into the back of his hair. he nodded, still possessing those submissive eyes that made you melt. you had to remain strong.

he placed his hands on you, tugging at the material that sat on your hips. you presumed it would be him requesting help so that he could pull your shorts down, you complied.

as the article of clothing fell down to your ankles, he quickly grabbed it and threw it to the other side of the room, knowing you wouldn’t be needing them back anytime soon.

his pretty face travelled back between your thighs, immediately pressing a kiss against your core. he closed his eyes and used the tip of his nose to make one stroke up your cunt, from entrance to clit, breathing you in. he nuzzled his face into your pussy, dotting pecks across its surface and leaving kitten licks across your lips. he then reached his tongue out, laying it flat against your soaked core, licking up and down to taste your sweet juices, your head lolled back from pleasure as you let out a soft moan from the orgasmic sensation of his mouth being exactly where you needed it to be.

after getting a good taste of you he pointed his tongue so that it was slightly sharper and flicked it against your clit repeatedly until he felt your hands quickly travel to his hair, gripping at his curls and pushing him further into your cunt. one of his hands laid on your supple thigh, the other being 3 fingers deep inside of you, pumping in and out as your groans and whimpers grew louder and your breaths became shorter.

he sped up his motions, fingers soaked in the moisture from your pussy, tongue dancing circles around your pulsing clit. you couldn’t take anymore and had screamed his name so many times it felt like it was the only word you knew. your stomach tightened and cunt began to twitch from sensitivity as you reached your climax, you squeezed your thighs around either side of his head as you began to tremble, sat on the edge of the bed with your legs spread. you let out a harsh groan and came on his pretty face, releasing quickly and laying your back against the bed from overstimulation.

matt got up from his knees and climbed on top of you, kissing down your cleavage. “you fucking wish” you said through a soft yet mocking laugh, flipping him over and straddling his waist. you started to grind on top of him, your bare pussy rubbing against his baggy jeans, you could immediately feel his hard on poke your warmth but ignored it, he didn’t deserve the satisfaction of being inside you after entertaining another girl all night.

he groaned as you continued to roll your hips back and forth “fuckkkkk” he let out, wincing from how hard his cock was getting. “stop teasing baby” matt whined, sitting up slightly, grabbing your waist and forcing your body downwards so that you would help relieve his hard on, you quickly slapped his hands away “you need to learn your lesson” you said, looking deep into his eyes with a smirk on your face. you raised a hand up and placed it against his chest, pushing him back down so that he was once again fully laid down on the bed beneath you, desperate and needy.

you lifted yourself so that you were positioned on top of his left thigh, straddling it. you pulled off your top, revealing your large bare tits that hung above his face, and rubbed them, tweaking your own nipples as matt just stared up in awe. you continued to grind and this time felt deep pleasure from it as the smaller surface area rubbed against your clit better, you moaned and began to rock faster.

“film me baby” you ordered, through a soft moan, cupping your tits with your hands, “wh-what?” he asked with a puzzled expression on his face, “i said film me” you continued, “film me so that you can remember what it feels like to learn a lesson”, he nodded heavily, instantly grabbing his phone from the bedside table and opening up his snapchat, pressing start.

you smiled back at the camera and began grinding faster and faster, eyes rolling to back of your head from pleasure, clit throbbing against the material on his thigh, you knew you were gonna leave a wet patch on his jeans the second you departed from his leg. “y/n i’m so fucking hard i have to cum”, you laughed at him and squeezed his mouth, squishing his cheeks together and shaking them between your fingers “what a shame baby” you replied, bringing one hand down to palm his dick through his clothes.

he groaned and squeezed your tits so that the camera could see, plucking at your nipples and rubbing them in circular motions. you were ready to cum for the second time, hips rolling, clit beating and within seconds you were crying out his name as he followed suit seconds later, releasing a large load in his boxers and whimpering from the pleasure.

he put his phone down to the side and looked up at you, “that’ll fucking teach you” you murmured, placing a singular soft kiss on his lips before getting up and pulling your clothes back on. he laid on the bed still shaking from his climax, “i’m sorry” he stated through heavy breaths, “apology accepted”, you laughed, knowing that’d be the last time he ever talked to that girl ever again.

#matt sturniolo #smut #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic

[thepixelelf]

Bluff and Nonsense - she/her ver.

genres: romance, angst, some fluff, university au, not a fake dating au pairing: female reader x hoshi words: 17.0k (01:08) warnings: cursing, alcohol notes (orig, 2020): "so the title is fluffy and this was a title fic, but then it ran away on me. I really like this one so... yeah. Enjoy!” update, 2023: this is the she/her version of Bluff and Nonsense. other than the pronouns, nothing else has been changed. you can find the original they/them version here, and the he/him version here

“Soonyoung? Yeah I know him, you should too. He’s on the uni’s dance crew, and ever since he joined them, their popularity’s skyrocketed. I’ve met him a few times, great guy — got a tendency to run his mouth but hey, no one’s perfect. He’s smart anyways, probably knows how to deal with the consequences, right?”

or

Soonyoung never thought one bluff could lead to so much nonsense.

Kwon Soonyoung is a man of many talents. He’s the guy who could fit a whole orange in his mouth in fourth grade, the guy who always knew how to make the social studies teacher talk about his divorce instead of the world wars, and the guy who brought a live pigeon to school with no one questioning him whatsoever. He’s also the head choreographer of the university’s dance crew — you barely knew there was a dance crew until he showed up with his hand-drawn posters — as well as a totally well-rounded fine arts major. C’mon, who takes a chemistry course in the fine arts? Kwon Soonyoung, apparently.

Of his many talents though, lying is not one of them.

Which is why, when asked if he likes anyone, Soonyoung says your name instead of simply saying “no” (a much better option in hindsight). He actually likes a girl on his dance crew. Cute, funny, has those eyes you can just get lost in — lord knows Soonyoung has. But, at this relatively quiet party, with half the guests crowded on Seungcheol’s couch and the other half on the disgusting carpeted floor of his apartment, Soonyoung can’t admit his real crush because she’s sitting just a few feet away.

It wouldn’t be such a bad lie if you weren’t also sitting a few feet away.

You’re on your phone when he says your name in his heartbeat-induced panic, but you look up at the sound of it, as does Seungkwan, who was reading something on your phone from the beanbag chair you’re both sitting in.

A chorus of low, teasing ‘ooh’s rises throughout the room, almost like it’s eighth grade again and Soonyoung just got called down to the office. Except now, he might actually be in trouble. He gets a few claps on the back from his friends close enough to reach, commending him on his bravado even though he doesn’t deserve it. Really, the whole situation only dawns on Soonyoung after 6.8 seconds, which is a bit too long considering he made the situation in the first place. Blood rushes to his cheeks, not because of the alcohol in his red cup he’s yet to drink, but because you’re looking right at him, and he has no idea what to do.

Soonyoung doesn’t know you very well. In fact, he’d almost say he doesn’t know you at all.

You’re Seungkwan’s friend from one of his classes — computing science, if Soonyoung remembers correctly, but he’s not totally confident. The only reason you came tonight is because of Seungkwan. You don’t know anyone else.

With a tilt of your head, your face scrunches with question, and you look to Seungkwan for help. You know Soonyoung said your name, but you missed hearing the context. It looks like Seungkwan missed it too, seeing as the conversation you two have only makes your brow furrow more as the room chatter picks back up. Everyone else is already over Soonyoung’s sudden confession when Jeonghan starts talking about something else.

Except Soonyoung’s friends, of course. That would be too easy.

Mingyu turns to him with a stupid smile, his cheeks red from both the free opportunity to tease his upperclassman and the light beer he’s been sipping and pretending to get buzzed on all night. He nudges Soonyoung with his shoulder where they sit on the floor, leaning in to speak under the conversations surrounding them. “You didn’t tell me you like her,” he says, the jesting tone in his voice clearer than water.

“Yeah...” Soonyoung doesn’t know why he doesn’t just retract his confession, it’s not like Mingyu is close to you or anything, he’d understand. But then again, he’s bad at lying, and the girl he likes is still sitting on the couch. He scratches the back of his neck. “It’s sort of a recent thing.”

Mingyu’s smile only widens at Soonyoung’s response, his eyes turning to slits with the rise of his cheeks. “Soonie’s in looove~!”

And Soonyoung doesn’t know what to say. Nothing like this has ever happened to him before, not exactly like this, anyways. So he just looks down, scratches the back of his neck again, looks at one of his dance crew friends when she calls his name.

He doesn’t dare glance your way for the rest of the night.

Turns out you do know someone else other than Seungkwan, because once most of the guests have cleared out, leaving only half the boys to clean up, Seokmin approaches Soonyoung as he scrubs the sink of whatever that weird green stuff is.

He asks how Soonyoung knows you and says off-handedly that he’s never even seen the two of you talk. (Which is right.) He says these things shouldn’t be joked about, that you’re a person with feelings, and Soonyoung should leave you alone if he’s just doing this for comedy’s sake.

Soonyoung thinks he’s never seen Seokmin so serious.

It’s probably fine. You haven’t said anything good or bad, and other than the occasional tease from his friends, no one has taken anything too far. Maybe you’ll forget about it tomorrow. Maybe he’ll forget about it tomorrow, and it will all be okay.

Besides, it’s not like he actually likes you. And his real secret is still safe and sound.

•

Of Soonyoung’s many talents, making people sad is also not one of them.

It’s not that he actively tries to cause misery only to fail, it’s that he can’t stand upsetting anyone. He’s a people-pleaser by nature, that’s just how it is.

So he doesn’t say no when you ask him out for coffee.

And he smiles at you when you try to make conversation, even though it’s awkward and hesitant despite having a mutual friend like Seungkwan. It’s not so bad, he thinks. You’re trying, at least, and when you ask him about his interests, you actually listen, which isn’t common when he tends to over-explain his love for dance and performance. He has a coffee in his hand too, so that’s a plus.

You ask him if what he said at the party was true, and something in your eyes makes him say yes.

•

There are a few more coffee dates after that. It’s nothing official, and Soonyoung is hesitant to call the meetups “dates” because he’s not interested in dating you. But it’s a little late for that.

You seem brighter, though, every time he sees you again; he can’t bring himself to take that away, to cut the cord, to clean this mess he made.

Something about the way you two talk is nice, at least. Soonyoung can’t quite put his finger on it, and he tells himself that’s what’s drawing him back every time, not the guilt he feels sunken in his ribcage whenever you smile his way. It’s not that deep, he repeats to himself whenever you wave to him on campus, making him feel obligated to walk you to class. It’s not that deep.

He’s in the library one day when he spots you at one of the tables, books open and spread out as you scribble down notes, a pair of earbuds dangling from your ears. You haven’t seen him, so he doesn’t try to approach, just ducks back behind the bookshelf he’s been exploring. His hand is on a book he might like when a voice stops him.

“You know you’re an idiot, right?”

Minghao leans against the opposite bookshelf, his arms crossed, locked and loaded for judgement. Soonyoung looks around, but of course he’s talking to him. They’re the only ones in the row.

“Um, how do you want me to answer that?” he asks, unsure of exactly what Minghao’s talking about. Yeah, he knows he’s a bit dense sometimes, but not all the time.

Minghao rolls his eyes. “I know you like Sehee. You haven't stopped laughing like an idiot at her bad jokes." He nods his chin outwards, gesturing over Soonyoung's shoulder and through the bookshelves towards where you're sitting. "What are you doing messing with Seungkwan's friend?"

It’s not too surprising that Minghao knows — he’s an intuitive guy, but Soonyoung is still caught off guard. He asks first, under his breath, “Does anyone else know?”

“If you mean dumb and dumber, then no.” Minghao jerks his head to swing his dark bangs out of his eyes. Everyone keeps telling him to just cut his hair shorter, but he refuses for the aesthetic, or something. “Chan is way too focused on dancing to notice your dumbassery, and Jun is about as observant as a fishcake when it comes to feelings.”

Soonyoung’s shoulders fall in relief, though he didn’t even realize they’d tensed up. 

“But that’s not the problem here. Why are you playing around with her if you’re into Sehee?”

“I’m not—” Soonyoung pauses, thoughts deliberate, “—I’m not playing around, okay? I just... I don’t know. You were all looking at me, and I couldn’t just say Sehee's name, she was right there!”

Minghao cocks an eyebrow at that. “But you could say hers?”

“It was a moment of weakness.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m aware.”

Soonyoung groans quietly — he’s still in a library after all. He covers his face with both hands, not wanting to look at Minghao nor have Minghao look at him. For a second, it’s blissful, awkward silence, which Soonyoung would take over Minghao’s scolding any day. But of course, no haven lasts forever.

“You’re gonna have to tell her,” Minghao says, and he’s probably right. No, he is right, Soonyoung just doesn’t want him to be.

“I can’t do that! I said I like her— twice!”

“Twice?”

“Twice!”

Minghao only drops his head for a second, scoffing at the whole situation. Soonyoung wishes he could do that too, just laugh it off because it’s someone else’s problem.

“Well, you’re going to have to say something sooner or later.” Meeting his eyes, Soonyoung realizes Minghao might actually be worried. About you, or him, or something else, he’s not sure, but the subtle fold of Minghao’s eyelids tells Soonyoung this is about more than just calling out idiocy. “And I think sooner will hurt less.”

Soonyoung knows he’s right. But he doesn’t like it.

Before he can come up with a rebuttal, though, Minghao’s hands are on Soonyoung’s shoulders, and he’s pushing him out of the row of bookshelves and straight towards your table.

“You can do it, Soonyoung, just rip the band-aid while you still can,” he whispers in Soonyoung’s ear right before one last push at his back.

Soonyoung stumbles a bit, but once he regains his footing, Minghao’s already gone and you’ve already noticed the ruckus. You pull one earbud out with a bright smile. It’s so jovial that Soonyoung almost forgets why he’s here.

“Hi Soonyoung, I didn’t see you come in,” you say, and there’s no way you’re this energized just from studying in a library.

“Uh... hi.”

“You’ve actually got the perfect timing.” Waving to him, you gesture for him to sit next to you, and he does. You pull out some sort of planner, opening it to a few months from now. “I wanted to ask when exactly your showcase is? Seungkwan’s no help at all because he only cares about his concerts and stuff. Honestly, there aren’t that many...”

You’re going to have to say something sooner or later.

Soonyoung picks later.

•

“So when are you gonna ask her out?”

Jihoon stands in front of the stove, watching his hot water simmer, a bag of dry ramen in one hand and long cooking chopsticks in the other. It’s Soonyoung’s turn to make dinner tonight, but since he says he isn’t hungry, Jihoon’s scrounging it out himself.

Soonyoung, on the other hand, sits at their tiny dinner table, his forehead pressed to the cool surface, arms hanging limp at his sides. He mumbles something of a response, but it’s nothing more than a questioning grunt, if anything.

“Oh, you know.” Even when Jihoon says your name, Soonyoung stays still. “Only the girl you’ve been on several “dates” with ever since you confessed to her at Seungcheol’s party. When are you gonna ask her on a real date?”

Tired, Soonyoung groans. “When the time is right, I guess.”

•

You work on campus. It’s some part-time job you don’t care about enough to even complain over, despite the fact that you have to deal with annoying university kids every day. Soonyoung finds this out when he has coffee with Minghao in one of the buildings he doesn’t normally frequent, and only goes to today since Minghao has a class nearby in the next hour.

The coffee isn’t great, and it’s too expensive, but Soonyoung drinks it anyways. He much prefers the coffee from the cafe he goes to with you. Because the coffee is better. Obviously.

He hears your voice first, words indiscernible with distance and overshadowed by a much louder, angrier one, but still. Minghao sees you first, though, and he points past Soonyoung to the student printing center, where you’re standing behind the counter and arguing with some guy. You don’t seem too riled, but Soonyoung can tell you want to be anywhere but there, especially when the angry guy’s voice keeps getting louder and louder.

Soonyoung’s feet bring him over before his brain can register what to do. You haven’t seen him yet, he could just walk away, but he doesn’t. Your voice becomes clearer as he approaches.

“Listen, the printing center is for education, art, or business. I can’t print this for you.”

The guy goes off about personal freedoms or whatever, Soonyoung isn’t really listening.

“No, I get that this is a student printing center, but I really don’t think your big tiddie anime gf poster has anything to do with education, art, or business.”

And that’s when the guy grabs your arm. Which results in Soonyoung grabbing his arm. Which results in the accusatory question, “What are you, her boyfriend or something?”

Now, in a perfect story, this would be the first time Soonyoung meets you. Or maybe you’ve been close friends for a while. And this would be when Soonyoung says that, yes, he is your boyfriend, and he would save the day. Except you’d be all “why would you do that?” which would result in you both having to fake date to keep that guy off your back. In this perfect story, there would be no Sehee to like and no Minghao to judge, just you and Soonyoung fake dating. Eventually, you’d both catch real feelings instead of fake ones, and then boom, happily ever after.

But this isn’t a perfect story.

Soonyoung still says yes, and the guy still backs off. In reality though, because Soonyoung never thinks before he lies, you momentarily duck behind the counter and bring a hand up to your face to cover your ever-brightening smile. In reality, Sehee still exists at the forefront of his mind every dance practice, even though you’re the one he just promptly claimed to be the boyfriend of. In reality, Minghao watches from a little ways away, sipping his coffee and shaking his head in what can only be called disappointment.

Soonyoung’s never been good at lying. One would think he’d stop by now.

•

So, it’s official.

You’ve put a heart next to his contact name. He’s put one next to yours — red, because he doesn’t know your favourite colour. Seungkwan’s done the whole if you break my friend’s heart I break you spiel and Soonyoung finally realizes he’s in too deep.

It's almost too natural, how easily you bring him into your life and how easily he finds himself fitting. It's all so wrong.

Soonyoung feels like an imposter, like there's someone meant to be by your side, but it's not him.

You pluck up the courage one day to hold his hand, and he can't pull away because the lies tying him to you are too strong. The small bluffs he's spun have weaved themselves into a net he's tangled himself in.

His dance crew congratulates him when Jun spills the news. It's all mundane, really — dating in university isn't all that uncommon. Mostly, Soonyoung gets casual "you go, dude" comments or the like, but then Sehee says nothing. She smiles, and it has to be one of the most tragically beautiful things Soonyoung's ever seen. His heart fractures, just a little, and he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to fix it.

He smiles it off. Tries to, anyways.

Chan complains that Soonyoung's too harsh that day.

•

Jihoon likes you.

Not in a "Mister Steal Yo' Girl" way, but he laughed at one of your jokes the first time you came over to Soonyoung's apartment, and ever since then, he's been convinced.

"You must feel like the luckiest guy on earth with her around," Jihoon says once you leave for the night.

Soonyoung has no idea how to tell him he's felt nothing but unlucky these past few weeks, so he doesn't.

•

He polishes up on his acting. As awful as it is to think, Soonyoung has gotten really, really good.

His smile looks genuine. It has to — he shows it to Minghao, who says it's "adequate," which basically means perfect to the lowly humans beneath him.

He's gotten good at responding to you too, copying how the male leads do it in dramas and movies. It's sort of easy.

He hates how easy it is.

Soon enough, you try befriending the whole group. Being Seungkwan's friend, you've always wanted to, but apparently this is the push you needed. The boys are quick to warm up to you because, as Soonyoung's new girlfriend, you're now a new teasing target besides Chan. The youngest was always the brunt until you came along.

You say you don't mind — that his friends are amazing despite all the jokes and chaos. He believes you.

Minghao keeps his distance, saying he doesn't want to get himself involved. He's still the only one to know the truth, and his judging stare only grows worse as the days pass. Soonyoung wants so badly to make it go away, but he knows the only way to do that would be to tell you the truth, and he's just not ready.

Soonyoung's never broken a heart before. He's never planned on it.

Sometimes life makes its own plans.

"My shift got moved to tomorrow," you tell him when he picks you up from class, one hand in his and the other in your pocket. He knows it means something, but he doesn't know what. Your lips purse into a line as you stare at your shoes. “I was thinking... could I come watch your dance practice? If that’s okay?”

Now, Soonyoung loves dancing. He loves dance. He loves to dance. Performing sends an unparalleled thrill rushing through his veins like the solar system hurtling through the universe, and it’s something he’s never felt doing anything else. Dancing with others is a beautiful connection, an emission of silent truths communicated through the body. Practice, however, is the dirty version of dance. It has to be built up first — polished. Which is why Soonyoung says what he says. He doesn’t even think it over.

“No.”

It’s what he says every time someone asks. He doesn’t invite people to practices — never has. Even after his prompt refusal, he doesn’t register his mistake until the light in your eyes wavers. It doesn't disappear — just ripples. Comes back weaker than before.

"Oh," you say. The word should sound dejected but it doesn't. There's a smile at your lips, and Soonyoung can't help but think it looks kind of like his. "That's— that's okay! I was just — I don't know, I guess I just thought... I wanted to..."

Meeting his gaze, you look at him with shaking eyes, almost as if it takes great strength to keep them on his. He tries to backpedal, but you continue.

"I'll be going home then. I've got an assignment due soon anyways, so..." You pull your hand from his grip and, from where you two were walking toward the fine arts building, turn the opposite way. Your dorm is on the other side of campus. "See you tomorrow, Soonyoung. Have fun at practice."

Something about your smile haunts him.

It's hollow; feels empty when you flash it at him before going. He thinks fake smiles all look like that — insincere. His smiles at you must be the same way.

For an awful moment, he's hopeful. Maybe this will be the trigger. Maybe you'll end this tonight — whatever "this" is that Soonyoung has with you. Maybe he won't have to tell any harsh truths at all.

He turns and walks to practice.

The routine feels lighter tonight, though Soonyoung can’t pinpoint why. His body almost floats, and while that sounds good, it’s not. The rhythm is off. He’s not landing when he should be.

His crew notices, especially Chan, who complains that Soonyoung’s too much of a cocksure choreographer to be making repeated mistakes like this. They tell him maybe everyone should take a break. He agrees, but only because he’s frustrated — and he shouldn’t channel his anger into dance. Not this one, at least. 

Everyone spreads throughout the studios to the edges, where they lean their body weight on the walls and slide down, water bottles in hand. The room reeks of sweat and feet, but Soonyoung’s used to it by now. He guzzles down half of his water in one go and pulls out his phone.

[❤] Sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to react all... cold? Seungkwan told me you never invite anyone to practice, so it makes total sense why you said no

[❤] If I’m ever crossing any boundaries, let me know, okay?

Of course you’d be understanding. Soonyoung wouldn’t be that lucky.

He tosses his phone haphazardly in his bag, groaning and throwing his head back so it hits the wall with a dampened thud. The pain is dull compared to the thoughts top-spinning in his mind.

Across the studio, Minghao clears his throat, raising an eyebrow at Soonyoung when he opens his eyes to look at him. It only takes two reluctant nods for Minghao to understand the source of Soonyoung’s groans, and he does nothing to react but look away. Soonyoung thinks that’s almost worse than the judging eyes. At least at that point Minghao thought he was something other than a lost cause.

He doesn’t text you back. By the time he thinks of something a boyfriend would say, the time to say it has passed.

•

How much longer is he going to let this go on?

Soonyoung wonders that to himself as he sits, returned to Seungcheol's apartment for another one of his "getties" as people are so apt to call them. He's never understood the difference between a getty and a party, and he's always been too stubborn to ask, knowing he'd be mercilessly made fun of for not knowing something apparently all university students knew.

This one isn't so different from the last. More or less the same crowd, the same atmosphere as the night goes on. Only this time, when everyone's settled down in what can hardly be called a circle, Soonyoung's on the couch, sunken into the too-old cushions with an arm wrapped around your shoulders. You're far from your last claimed spot with Seungkwan on that ratty old beanbag chair, sitting comfortably under Soonyoung's arm with a plastic cup of whatever Jeonghan concocted for you — which you've yet to drink much of.

Sehee sits across from you both while she laughs at something Wonwoo says. You laugh too, but Soonyoung barely notices, eyes glued to the girl they've been stuck on since she joined his dance crew over a year ago. He wants to tell her how beautiful she is when she smiles, even under the light of Seungcheol's dingy apartment, but he can't. He wants to tell her how he's felt for months, but you're next to him. He wants to have a fucking drink but all he has in his cup is fucking iced green tea because he knows if he drinks he'll fuck up again.

Just like last time.

"You okay?" you whisper in his ear at one point.

He turns to see your concerned expression, and it only makes Soonyoung hate this even more. He doesn't deserve your concern.

"I'm fine."

But he's not fine.

He doesn't participate in much conversation — only speaks when spoken to, and even then with few words. You seem to become tense next to him, but he does nothing to try and fix it. Just tonight, he's going to let himself be tired.

Three times, you offer to leave, and all three he refuses. You give up eventually, though he can tell you know something's off. God, if he were drunk, he wouldn't even have to think about you for a whole night.

Somehow the topic of discussion turns to couples, and suddenly, an entire room of eyes is on you and Soonyoung. He barely catches the question before you're already pondering your answer.

What do the two lovebirds love most about each other?

You look at him. At him, at him. He feels your stare in the dip of his throat because he can't seem to swallow anymore. It's like his soul is being scanned for viruses.

"Hmm..." You let your chin fall into your palm with a smile. It's real. Too real. "I like his resolve," you finally say. "If he wants to do something, he does it." With a loud exhale through your nose, you tilt your head, still meeting his eyes with your own. Soonyoung's mouth slightly parts, slack with something he can't name. "I could learn a thing or two from him."

The room bristles with your answer, various response piping up around. Soonyoung sort of registers Chan saying, "That's cute. I wanna vomit," but he's too busy thinking about you, about how you've come to like something about him as deep as that when all he's done is pretend to even like you at all.

And even when his mind swims with that, Sehee asks again.

"Then Soonyoung, what do you like about her?"

It sort of hurts. Soonyoung's not afraid to admit to himself that hearing Sehee ask what he likes about you sends pain straight through his ears to his heart. There's an awkward pause and everyone's looking at him expectantly and, god, he wishes he stole your drink when he had the chance.

"I..." His throat goes dry. His lips part, but there aren't any words to slip past them. "I, um..." He looks to you, and your eyes speak volumes. Everyone else in this room has a sort of... hungry look. They want to know Soonyoung's answer for one reason or another, maybe to tease with or to ridicule or even wish for themselves. But you, your eyes meet his and he knows you're not expecting anything. That hurts too. He doesn't know why. But even then, he can't think of the words. Any words. He steals a glance at Sehee, whose expression is curious, doe eyes slightly giddy from alcohol. She's pretty.

"I like her laugh," he says. It's not about you. "Whenever she laughs, I think to myself, 'What I wouldn't give to see her laugh again'."

Your eyes move to the plastic cup you've got gripped between two hands in your lap, and Seungkwan points out your flustered state to the entire room despite the fact everyone can see it as long as they've got working eyes. You purse your lips together to contain a smile, but it doesn't work. Even Soonyoung can see that.

He needs a drink. 

Having to go to the bathroom is a lousy excuse, and Soonyoung knows it, but he whispers that in your ear anyways and retracts his arm from your shoulder before escaping. He does go to the bathroom, a small thing with a shower and no bath, but all he does in there is stare at himself in the mirror. And when that becomes too much, his feet.

Someone else eventually has to use the bathroom for its actual purpose, so he opens it to the banging fist outside and slides past the person back into the hallway. He pauses before walking all the way back. You're caught up in some other conversation now, laughing and dramatically waving your hands as you deny some crazy embarrassing story Seungkwan's trying to spill about you. Seems you've already integrated yourself with his friends more than he thought.

Since your attention is occupied, Soonyoung instead ducks into the half-kitchen — not necessarily out of sight, but no one's really paying attention anyways. He knows he shouldn't take any chances, but he really, really wants to let go. He's been wearing a facade ever since he said your name that night.

"I wouldn't, if I were you."

Minghao's voice has Soonyoung jerking up and banging his head on the door of the open fridge he was rummaging through. He winces in pain, kneading his fingers into his scalp as if that will do anything.

"Wouldn't what?" he snaps.

"I dunno." Minghao shrugs, and it's almost infuriating how nonchalant he is. "Do something you might regret, I guess."

He takes the yet unopened bottle from Soonyoung's hands, reaching beyond him to put it back in place. There's no point in fighting against him since he's undeniably right, but Soonyoung grumbles anyways. His eyes glance every few seconds to you on the couch. If you happen to hear anything...

Well, he doesn't know exactly. But he doesn't want to find out.

"You have to end it."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I just—" Soonyoung takes in a breath, too loud for his liking. He lowers his voice. "I can't, okay? I don't want to hurt her."

"So you're just going to date her based on false pretenses because you're too much of a coward to admit your mistakes?" Voice laced with sharpness, Minghao places his palms flat on the counter.

Soonyoung takes a deep breath through his nose, lips twisting in frustration. "Yeah, okay? Yeah," he whispers. "That's exactly what I'm gonna do."

A second passes. Minghao's brow furrows.

"And quite frankly," Soonyoung continues, "I'd rather you keep your nosy ass out of my business from now on."

He nearly storms off right then with the last word, but Minghao's fingers around his elbow stop him.

"You're going to get yourself hurt," Minghao warns through his teeth. He nods towards you. "And her in the process."

"We'll see about that."

Soonyoung has acted on impulse before. It happened with the pigeon, it happened with your name, and it's happening right now. Nothing is compelling him other than the absolute need to prove Minghao wrong, and even then, he doesn't know why.

He sits back down next to you, his spot saved by some miracle considering the surrounding company. The look on your face is happy, jovial. You must be having a right old time. His nerves strike with a feeling he's never quite experienced before.

When you study his face, no doubt not nearly as cheerful as yours, the expression you held falters to worry.

"You okay?" is once again the question on your lips, quiet, meant for his ears only.

Impulse is a scary thing. Soonyoung hates it almost as much as lying.

He leans in, crashing his lips on yours with his eyes half closed. His lips move and yours don't. Soonyoung can't even be sure you've closed your eyes, but at this very moment, he doesn't care. All he knows is he's angry and Minghao is watching.

This isn’t your first kiss — he knows because you’ve talked to him about this very topic. This is, however, to your understanding, the first “real” relationship you’ve ever been in. You told him yourself that you don’t really count that past kiss as your first, that you felt a bit... violated when it happened.

Soonyoung thinks this isn’t all too different.

He steals your second first kiss, and later, staring at the water-stained stucco ceiling of his bedroom, he kicks himself so hard it hurts.

•

You show up to movie night. Apparently Jihoon invited you — explained it like this:

“You won’t have to be so clingy with me if she’s here.”

At first, Soonyoung thinks Jihoon just wants to drop their roommate movie nights because he’s always complained about them, but Jihoon sticks around during Anastasia; sings along with you during Once Upon a December despite the fact that neither of you really know the words. He sits right in front of you two on the couch, cross-legged on the floor with a bowl of popcorn in his lap, that of which he only offers to you twice and Soonyoung once.

Whatever. You’re a better cuddler than Jihoon anyway.

Somehow it doesn’t feel forced when you lean your head on Soonyoung’s shoulder, or when he wraps his arm around your waist to get comfortable. He blames it on how tired he is, how he always gets on movie night after a week of classes and practices and too much work for one person to handle. Jihoon complains all the time that he’s too touchy when tired.

You absentmindedly play with his fingers for most of the movie. He doesn’t mind.

It’s been about a month now.

Soonyoung doesn’t kiss you again after the first time. Doesn’t stop you, either, but you’re more of an on-the-cheek kind of person. He thinks you think he wants to take this slow, even though he initiated the first big step (as convoluted as it was). He lets you think what you want.

Nasty business, it is.

Cleaning a bowl that once held popcorn. All the grease that sticks to the side because Jihoon likes to use too much butter. All the grains of salt that get underneath Soonyoung’s fingernails. He’s washing, Jihoon’s drying. It’s an arrangement of sorts.

You’ve already left for the night, gone back to your dorm since it’s only a five minute walk or so through campus. Jihoon insisted on Soonyoung escorting you, but you only smiled sweetly and refused. Maybe Soonyoung should’ve argued harder against you. He didn’t though. That’s why he’s scrubbing a bit too harshly now — he doesn’t like messing up.

Seems that’s all he’s good for lately.

“You’re unhappy.”

Soonyoung stops scrubbing. The only noise in the whole apartment is the slow gurgle of the sink because even with a plug, such an old thing just lets the hot water seep away as the seconds go by. Jihoon’s gaze is on the pan he’s drying, but Soonyoung knows his heart is in the question. It always is.

“I’m not,” he tries to deny, but it’s difficult to fool a person like Jihoon. (Especially since Soonyoung can’t even convince himself.)

The non-stick pan from yesterday’s dinner clangs against an older one when Jihoon puts it away. He looks at Soonyoung, but by then he’s turned back to washing the popcorn bowl, so their eyes don’t end up meeting.

“I’ve known you since tenth grade. You think I can’t tell when you’re upset?”

Soonyoung finds it hard to read Jihoon’s feelings most of the time. He didn’t realize he was such an open book the other way around.

Sighing, he continues to scrub the bowl, which has probably been clean for a minute already. “I’m just... stressed.”

“About?”

Minghao already knows; already thinks lowly of Soonyoung for it. If Jihoon knew... Soonyoung doesn’t know if he can take that.

So he lies. Again.

“Just the dance showcase.”

It isn’t a whole lie, not really, but he can’t call it the truth either.

Jihoon takes the bowl from Soonyoung’s grasp and rinses it under the tap. Since that’s the last dish, Soonyoung is stuck with nothing for his hands to do. They rest on the edge of the sink, but his fingers ache for a task.

Jihoon, the friend that he is, says, “That’s not for three months, though. I’m sure you’ll be perfect by then.”

“I don’t know...”

“Well I do.” Eyes meet eyes, a pair determined, a pair apprehensive. “Everything will work out.”

“...Okay.”

•

Soonyoung measures time in terms of you now.

When he last texted you. When he last saw you. When he last spoke to you.

It’s all a very elaborate calculation — how much time he’s spent on you versus how much time he should spend on you. No relationship is quite like this one, he thinks, and it’s quite the romantic notion out of context. The fact remains, every interaction he has with you only pulls him further and deeper into his lie.

Soonyoung’s time moves a bit slower now.

Faster, sometimes, but only when he doesn’t want it to.

•

You tell him you might be in love with him.

He says he might be in love with you.

He’s never hated lying more.

•

Jihoon is cleaning out the fridge when the buzzer goes off, so since he’s close by, he picks up the old corded phone attached to the wall. From his spot on the couch, Soonyoung looks up from his phone to see Jihoon cover the receiver and mouth your name. Jihoon makes some sort of gesture with his hands, and somehow Soonyoung understands that as, were you expecting her?

His eyes widen as it settles in that no, he’s not expecting you. The apartment is a mess.

Jihoon buzzes you in, hangs up, and immediately moves from the fridge to the coffee table, throwing the laundry he was planning on folding back in the plastic hamper and shoving the pile in Soonyoung’s lap.

“Take care of this,” he says. “I’ll clear up the kitchen.”

Right. Can’t have you thinking your boyfriend and his roommate are slobs.

Soonyoung reacts quickly, standing from his spot on the couch with the laundry basket in hand. He dashes to his room, where he plans to stuff the laundry in his closet and save that problem for later, but once he gets there, he realizes his room is even worse. There are dirty clothes dispersed all over his bed and old coffee cups littering his desk. Scrambling to shove the new laundry in his closet, the dirty clothes in the now empty hamper, and gather all the paper cups in his arms, Soonyoung’s breath starts to catch.

When he emerges from his room with two armfuls of garbage, he finds you at the door with Jihoon, your face hidden in his shoulder and your arms wrapped tight around his waist. Jihoon’s arms are up, almost like he’s being held at gunpoint, and his eyes widen even further when he catches sight of Soonyoung.

“Uhh... it’s for you.”

Soonyoung can hear your quiet hiccups even though they’re muffled in Jihoon’s shirt. He can’t bear it when people cry.

Yeah, maybe he’s been pretending to like you for a long time now, but he’s not a monster.

Right?

He likes you as a person. As a friend. And there’s no way he’s letting his friend go through pain like this.

Soonyoung swiftly discards his trash into the garbage bin and approaches you and Jihoon. At the commotion, you lift your head from Jihoon’s shoulder, eyes all red and puffy. Your lips press together, emotions nearly bursting at the seams, but they finally break out when Soonyoung opens his arms wide.

“C’mere.”

You practically flail into his embrace, arms wrapping around his torso in a vice grip as you hide your face again. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay — he knows you’re not.

Jihoon stands in the doorway for a few seconds, just looking at you and Soonyoung clutching at each other in the middle of the apartment before he shuts the front door and clears his throat.

“I’ll just, uh, I’ll be — um. Mhm. Yup.”

He escapes to his room.

Soonyoung squishes his cheek to your temple as you both stay there. You’re shaking, and his arms squeeze tighter. If only he could make it stop. He doesn’t know what to say or do to make you feel better.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, though quiet and hesitant.

You shake your head, mumbling something he can’t quite make out. He pulls back a bit, just enough to see your face and gently cup your cheeks in his palms. His thumbs rub at your cheeks, smoothing any stray tears across your skin.

“What’s that?”

“Just...” Your eyes glisten. His heart beats. “Could you please just hold me?”

And he does.

Decidedly, his bed is much more comfortable than standing in the living room, so he sways, rocking side to side with small steps that force you to walk backwards. His smile, though, is reassuring, and you follow his guidance without much complaint. He sits you down on his bed, thankful that he cleaned up beforehand, and slowly leans you down so you’re both on your sides, facing each other. Pulling you closer, he lets you rest your head on his chest. Your hand lies flat on top of him, but eventually your fingers curl, clutching a bit of Soonyoung’s shirt between them. Silent tears fall from your eyes to his chest, but he doesn’t care.

His arm underneath you wraps around, hand landing on your back so his thumb can rub soothing circles.

It’s quiet.

Funny. Soonyoung used to dislike silence with you — always felt the need to fill it with conversation or jokes or laughter. He wonders when it was last since he felt that way.

Soonyoung doesn’t know how much time passes. His eyes stick to his bedroom ceiling as he holds you close, thoughts on everything and nothing all at once. Are you asleep? Your tears stopped some time ago.

His question is answered when your voice, small and unsure, breaks the long-standing silence.

“Soonyoung?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I tell you about it?”

He cranes his neck to look at you, but it doesn’t really work. “Of course,” he says. “Why wouldn’t you be able to?”

You sigh. “I don’t know. I just... I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not.”

“I know, but—”

“You’re not.”

You look up at him finally, and seeing your smile sends warmth through his blood. Your face is still looks wrecked from tears gone by, but your smile pushes all that out of the way.

“Thank you,” comes past your lips in a whisper. Then, after a moment of waiting, you say, “It’s just that... I... this — ugh.” You hide your face in his shirt again. “This is so embarrassing. I don’t even know why I got so worked up.”

Soonyoung doesn’t respond to that, just pats your back a few times and encourages you to keep going. You toy with the fabric of his shirt.

“This guy I used to know — I thought I’d never see him again, but he showed up today. Ran into him when I was walking back from the convenience store.” You bite the inside of your lip. “I haven’t thought about him in a long time, but, I don’t know, I guess seeing him just brought all these memories back all at once.”

“Bad ones?”

A breathy laugh escapes you. “Sure, you could say that.”

The silence comes back, and your brows furrow, almost like you’re trying to solve the problem all on your own. But you don’t have to. Soonyoung is here.

“Do you remember when I told you about my first kiss? Like, my real first kiss?”

Soonyoung hums. Of course he remembers.

“Back in high school, I used to have this friend. Sammy. She was — god, she was beautiful. And kind, and smart, and just... amazing. I miss her a lot. She’s abroad now, travelling the world with her sister. I think she’s in Peru now.” You chuckle at the mention of your old friend, but soon your smile twists into a frown. “This guy... I don’t like saying his name, but he liked Sammy. Everyone did, I don’t blame him for that, honestly. He was pretty popular back then — one of those sports boys, you know? Thinking about it now, he could’ve easily gotten with Sammy if he hadn’t been so conniving.”

“Conniving?”

“Yeah, he was... I don’t know how he got the idea in his head, but he came to me first. He kept hanging out with me, taking me on these... dates? But they weren’t really dates, all we did was talk about Sammy — what she liked, what she didn’t like. I knew he was using me, but I just... let him, I guess. Maybe back then I was just so caught up in being needed that I didn’t really mind being used.”

Soonyoung hugs you tighter.

“I guess he felt sorry, maybe? Right before he went to go ask Sammy out, he just... laid one on me. It was stupid. Like a pity kiss for my service or whatever. I wasn’t in love with the guy or anything, but it felt so... degrading. Like all I deserved was some action from a conventionally good-looking guy."

Your tears come back, brimming at the edge of your eyelids.

“I don’t know, it just — it just made me feel so...”

You take a breath. Exhale.

“...worthless.”

Soonyoung doesn’t fail to see the irony here, at least, but he feels slightly lifted. Whoever this guy is, Soonyoung’s a million times better.

“You’re not worthless,” he says — because he knows it’s true.

“I know.” You readjust yourself curled around him, wiping away the tears which haven’t fallen. “I mean, I know now.” Sighing, you wrap your arm around his waist, somehow pulling him closer than he already was. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being here. For being you. For letting me be me.”

“It is my absolute pleasure to serve you, your majesty.”

You wack him with the sleeve of your sweater. “You’re such a dork!”

Your laugh is nice. Soonyoung hopes to hear it again soon.

“You know,” you say, eyes closed as you lie there with him on his bed. “Normally I would’ve gone to Seungkwan with my problems, but tonight...”

“Tonight?”

“You make me feel safe, Soonyoung. Thank you.”

His eyes close. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “That, and if I told Seungkwan, he would’ve found the guy and beat him to a pulp.”

“Why can I see that?”

“Because it’s true.”

You stay the night.

•

With a group of friends as big as Soonyoung’s, it’s about once every blue moon that the boys find a time that works for everyone, especially coming up on finals season. They all have their own worries around this time: the dance showcase, the big play, last-minute assessments, and — of course — finals.

So when they’re all free for barbecue one night, everyone’s ecstatic. Reservations are made, gratuities are calculated, and the group chat blows up every few hours with various changes to plans. (Mostly from Mingyu, who’s eager to show off his grilling skills.)

But of course, university is university, and it’s inevitable that someone has to bail out. That someone being Soonyoung.

The dance showcase creeps up a bit faster than anyone likes, and now Soonyoung’s professor is forcing him to choreograph an entire song for some freshmen only a month before the whole thing goes onstage.

First of all, who signs up for a showcase only four weeks before the performance? Who lets them sign up?

And second of all, doesn’t his professor realize Soonyoung has a life? He’s got other dances to work on, other classes to study for, friends to have barbecue with. How is he supposed to cram an entire choreography — not the mention the time it’ll take to teach the freshmen — into his already hectic lifestyle?

But Soonyoung is a people-pleaser. He doesn’t say no.

Instead, he regretfully messages the group chat, saying he can’t hang out tonight in favour of attempting to choreograph at least a quarter of the song in one sitting. He gets the usual whining, but they all know they can’t change his mind, so it fades out fast.

What he doesn’t expect is for them to invite you instead.

“It’s a thirteen person reservation,” Seungcheol reasons. “Besides, she’s basically one of us by now.”

Soonyoung can’t exactly argue with that.

So, you go to the restaurant with them while Soonyoung heads to the studio. Minghao picks you up along with Vernon and Chan, which sends an anxious bit of worry down Soonyoung’s spine, but he does nothing about it. If Minghao wanted to tell you, he would’ve by now.

You send him a good luck text.

[🍥] Don’t let those kids work you into the ground!

He stares at your words for a bit, distracted from finding the song he’s supposed to use. Your contact name is different now — one of those naruto fishcakes because of that time you took him out for ramen. That night had been full of laughter and loud, borderline obnoxious slurping, ending with the beautiful finale of Soonyoung throwing a fishcake straight into your open mouth.

You were the one that sweet-talked you both out of getting banned.

Soonyoung finally opens his music app and finds the song the freshmen requested (a rather boring one, if you ask him) which he sets to max volume. He doesn’t bother plugging his phone into the speaker system, not when he’s the only one in the studio.

Maybe he can do this.

•

“The trick is to add eggs and use less water,” you say as you scoop more batter onto the waffle iron.

Jihoon snorts from where he sits at the table, still shoveling more whipped cream and strawberry-smothered waffle in his mouth. “Are you sure the trick isn’t to just not be Soonyoung?”

“Hey!” Soonyoung pauses his own eating just to pout. “My waffles are good!”

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that.”

Both you and Jihoon laugh at Soonyoung’s expense, only further accentuating the pout on his face. You and Jihoon are too alike in that aspect. Well, actually, Soonyoung knows you’d never laugh at him, but he still can’t be sure about Jihoon. One time, back in high school, Soonyoung tripped over (what he thought was) a dead bird, and Jihoon laughed for hours — though Soonyoung always exaggerates the story into him laughing for days.

You sit down next to him with your own plate of waffles. There’s flour dusted on your arms, but you don’t seem to mind.

“You’ve got a little...” You point a finger at the corner of your mouth.

He knows. Soonyoung can feel the cool whipped cream right where you say it is.

He smiles wide. “I’m saving it for later.”

“Hmm...”

You say nothing, just smile as you lean in, kissing the corner of his lips. It’s quick, chaste, and barely a real kiss, but Soonyoung’s heart bounces in his chest. He’s never been kissed like that before.

He wonders if this is what it’s like to be loved.

That thought, though, he pushes back for another time.

“Gross. You guys made me lose my appetite,” Jihoon says. He keeps eating.

•

With eyes drooping shut every few seconds, Soonyoung decides it’s time to call it quits on the chemistry homework. It’s nearly one in the morning, anyways. He flips his textbooks shut and gathers up all his notes, putting them all in a haphazard pile that he’ll worry about in the morning. Swivelling in his chair, his eyes land on you.

Oh. He forgot you’re here.

You’re snuggled up on top of his covers, one arm wrapped around the pillow your head should be on, eyes closed as even, slow breaths come past your slightly parted lips. One of his hoodies is draped over your legs like a blanket. He wonders why you didn’t just get under the covers.

Well, he has been walking you home ever since he hadn’t some time ago. Maybe you were waiting.

He feels a bit guilty as he brushes his teeth and washes his face, but not too bad since you only have afternoon classes tomorrow. Maybe he can treat you to something in the morning to make up for it.

After he tucks you under a fluffy throw blanket, he crawls into bed and lies on his side, facing you.

Your other hand is lax, palm up and fingers curled, almost like you’re holding something invisible.

His hand would fit perfectly.

The tips of his fingers graze over the lines on your palm. Slow. Trepidatious.

You shift, fingers unconsciously curling around Soonyoung’s hand.

He closes his eyes.

•

The moves aren’t working.

The moves aren’t working and the music isn’t working and the dance isn’t working and nothing is working.

Soonyoung groans in frustration, almost screaming with his fingers threaded through his damp hair as he messes up yet another landing. He’s drenched in sweat, and it’s only been so many hours since the rest of the crew left for the night, not that he’s kept track.

It’s less than a week until the showcase. Six days, as Chan is apt to remind everyone with his stupid holiday countdown app.

That freshmen choreography is already over and done with — Soonyoung’s made it, he’s taught it to those over-eager nuisances, and if they need anything more, that’s on them. They’re no longer his responsibility.

That’s not what has him in such a state right now.

His solo — the one he’s been planning for the entire semester — it just doesn’t... feel right. He’s been slaving over it for days now, reworking the steps, figuring out what to take out and what to replace. But the more he fixes it, the more it feels wrong.

He can’t get the steps right. He can’t get anything right.

What is wrong with him?

He starts the music again at exactly one minute, thirty-eight seconds. The moves are clear in his mind. One step. Two steps. Sweep. Spin. Jump—

He falls.

The music goes on.

Soonyoung slams his fist onto the softwood floor, cursing at his ineptitude. He stays like that for a moment, eyes screwed shut and fists clenched so tight his nails dig into his palms. The song ends, only to restart again, but Soonyoung barely notices.

Screw the music. He stands; positions himself; tries again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

He falls.

He yells out at the floor, at his feet, at whatever is holding him back.

His reflection in the mirror stares back at him.

Mind blank, he sits there, legs stretched out in front of him as he hunches over, eyes closed to the world around. His breaths come out shaky and uneven, but even though every moment sitting still feels like eternity, his lungs fail to calm.

Someone knocks on the door, and for a second, Soonyoung thinks it’s Jun coming to tell him to go home for the night. He doesn’t want to, so he doesn’t look up.

The door opens, he can hear the quiet shuffling of hesitant feet that have removed their shoes just because the sign on the door told them to.

“Soonyoung?”

Your voice is clear — like a single drop of water coalescing into a whole — and it cuts through the sound of blood rushing past Soonyoung’s ears.

He looks up to see you standing a good length away, almost like you’re scared to approach. You’re wearing pyjamas, a thick sweater pulled over your shoulders and fuzzy socks donning your feet. Something bulges from the pocket of your sweater.

“What are you...”

“Minghao called me.”

In the back of his mind, a small part of Soonyoung wonders exactly when you and Minghao have gotten close enough to call each other, but the thought doesn’t stay for long. It can’t, really, not when you’re in front of him.

When Soonyoung says nothing more, you take another step forward. “What’s wrong?”

To anyone else, he might say nothing. Absolutely nothing is wrong.

His voice breaks when he tries to laugh.

“Everything.”

Your eyes soften, a small smile tugging at your lips. It’s not one of those pitiful smiles, he can tell, but it’s not fake, either. You bring your hands together in front of you, fiddling with the tips of your fingers as your eyes move from them to his gaze again. “I’m coming over. Is that okay?”

He nods.

First, you find his phone and turn down the music until it’s gone. You sit right behind him, legs spread on either side of his body, and you wrap your arms around his waist, pressing flush to his back and resting your cheek between his shoulder blades. He squirms a bit.

“I’m all sweaty,” he tries to argue, but you only squeeze him tighter.

“Yeah, you are.”

He stops resisting. It’s much too hot, what with his hours of constant exercise and your thick layers, but he can’t complain.

“Do you want to talk about it?” This time it’s your turn to ask.

“...Just hold me?”

And you do.

You press a kiss to the back of his neck. Slow, soft, and when your lips leave his searing skin, your forehead replaces them.

That’s when the dam breaks.

Hot, fat tears roll from Soonyoung’s eyes down his cheeks as sobs rack through his chest. The vibrations shake him and you all at once, but your hold never falters. He can’t see anything, only a blur of what should be his legs and your arms wrapped around his stomach. His hands go to clutch at your arms, desperate to hold onto something; to not let him sink.

It’s ugly, the way he cries, but you let it happen. You hold him.

This is what it’s like.

Eventually, his desperate hands find yours, his arms crossed so his right is over your right, his left over your left. His fingers roam over the smooth backs of your hands until they reach your fingers and interlock. The palms of your hands are warm compared to his fingertips.

You’ve locked onto his body language by now — you’re fluent, so you know to continue pressing reassuring, slow kisses into his skin. You know to whisper little words that should mean nothing, but coming from your lips, mean everything.

He’s going to be okay.

For some reason, coming from you, he believes it.

You hold him until the hiccuping stops, until the tears are just dry streaks on his face, until his breath comes out in long streams instead of bursts.

His eyes stay shut as he feels you shift. One of your hands slips out of his grasp, your arm reaching back, and Soonyoung almost whines until he feels its return.

“Look,” you whisper.

It itches to open his eyes, but when he does, he sees what’s in your hand, right in front of him. A small stuffed tiger sits in your palm, positioned anatomically incorrect like a teddy bear, a velvet heart between its paws. Stitched white letters read:

Go get ‘em, tiger!

You chuckle lightly, repositioning yourself so your chin hooks over his shoulder. “Cheesy, I know. I was going to give this to you the day of the showcase, but I think you could use it right about now.”

Gingerly, Soonyoung lifts his hands together, and you place the plush in his awaiting palms.

His voice is slow to restart, but he manages to say, “Thank you.”

Hands now free, you wrap yourself around his waist again. “Anything for you.”

Such a simple sentence, that, and yet the confession sends blood to Soonyoung’s ears in the form of an awfully embarrassing blush. He runs his thumbs over the fuzzy fabric of the tiger plush.

“Soonyoung?”

“Hm?”

You press your lips to the crook of his shoulder, voice muffled in the fabric of his shirt. “I won’t force you to stop practicing. I know this is important to you.” Soonyoung feels your breath fan over his skin. “But I also want you to rest — you shouldn’t overwork yourself.”

One of your hands rises to his chin, guiding it up so he looks forward at the studio mirror and meets your gaze in the reflection.

“Whaddya say we do, hm?” You tilt your head, and Soonyoung thinks his pupils may be heart-shaped. “Do you want to practice more? Or can I take you home?”

“Just...” He swallows what’s left in his dry mouth. “Just once more.”

You smile. “Okay.”

As you get up, you run your hands up to Soonyoung’s shoulder and down to his hand, where you playfully pretend to pull him up with you. He laughs, hiding his face behind the tiger plush for a second before he stands, tugging your hands as he does so you fall into him when he rights himself. Both your hands are squeezed between him and you, while his unoccupied arm finds its way to your side.

Another smile tugs at your lips at the proximity. You shift your hands up so they wrap over his shoulders, linking behind his head. Leaning closer, your eyes gleam under the fluorescent lights. To the sound of silence, you sway together, waltzing in the dead of night.

“I’ll be outside, okay?”

Soonyoung’s expression tightens, eyebrows shifting in confusion. “Why?”

“Well,” you say. “I know how you feel about audiences during practice.”

Something about your smile right now makes Soonyoung feel so undeniably safe. You understand him. Never once have you questioned him over why he doesn’t invite you to practices, never once did you pressure him to change that.

“Do you know how I feel about you?”

“Hmm, do I?”

Do you?

“Stay.”

And you do.

•

Here’s the thing about dance showcases:

They’re big, they’re flashy, they take the entire year to plan, and they’re over in one night.

Soonyoung stands in the wings, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, hopefully not loud enough for anyone to hear. He watches as the group performing before his solo finishes up their dance, though he knows there is at least a minute before he’ll have to go on.

A tap on his shoulder makes him turn his head, and he sees Sehee’s smiling face.

“Nervous?” she asks, her voice hidden beneath the music.

She’s all dolled up, dressed in her costume with a sleek leather jacket to bring everything together. Her eyes glimmer just as much as her eyelids.

“You have no idea,” Soonyoung jokes, but his heart isn’t really in it.

Sehee tilts her head; blinks a few times. “You’ll do amazing. You always do.”

For what it’s worth, Soonyoung hasn’t forgotten his attraction. Sehee’s words soothe him to some extent, pump him up, even. It’s slightly terrifying — how much she still affects him even now.

You’re in the audience tonight, third row from the front, somewhere in the middle. Your seat is between Seungkwan’s and Jihoon’s, whereas all the other boys came (almost) too late and had to find seats elsewhere.

The music ends, applause erupts, and Soonyoung knows it’s his turn. He waits for the group to exit on the opposite side, and when the resounding claps quiet down, he takes the first step onstage.

Something Soonyoung has almost always known: stage lights are blinding. If they’re set up right, anyone onstage will have a damn hard time seeing anyone in the audience. He can’t see you — couldn’t during his previous performance with the crew, either. The only reason he knows you’re there is the million assuring texts you sent him before you had to turn off your phone for the show.

But he knows you’re there. He knows you’re watching.

Soonyoung stands with his left foot on the spike mark, right where he’s practiced time and time again ever since they transitioned into the space. Music floods his veins, and the world is gone.

He wouldn’t call it an escape. Soonyoung doesn’t use dance to get away, it’s not like that. This world he creates with dance — this other space where nothing exists except him and the music and the floor and the feeling — he chooses to go there. Euphoria, he thinks it might be called. Euphoric.

The space takes him. He lets it.

And then it’s over.

Soonyoung’s breath leaves him in bursts, his shoulders heaving despite how hard he fights to keep them still in his final pose. His back faces the audience, his right arm stretched out and up, fingers curling around nothing. Stars dance before his eyes — which he fails to catch with his outstretched hand.

He thinks he can faintly hear applause, but it’s nothing compared to the heart beating in his chest. Your voice plays in his ears, yet he knows it’s simply his imagination — his recollection.

I like your dance, you’d said that night. I’m no expert, no judge, but I like it. I love it, honestly. Your dancing... I don’t know. I wish I had the words. It’s like... a little box.

A little box?

You’ve got a little box in your hand. Brown, maybe the size of your palm. You open it and there’s no bottom, no sides, no shape, just an expanse of universe in blues and pinks and purples and whatever colours we don’t know exist. You look inside and reach your hand in, somehow fitting in the tiny yet infinite space. Your fingers brush through starlight like strands of silk, like the rays are minnows you’ve met during a summer dip. Like that. A little box.

I thought you said you didn’t have the words?

I don’t. Not enough.

Soonyoung vaguely registers the lights going black, the way his feet drift him offstage, the music of the seniors’ finale.

At some point, the lights are back on. Not the stage lights, but the harsh fluorescents once the audience has fully filtered out into the lobby. Most of them will leave, but the family and friends of performers are sure to stay, waiting there to congratulate and fawn over the dancers as soon as they’re let go for the night. Somewhere in his mind, Soonyoung knows his friends are outside waiting for him — him, Jun, Minghao, and Chan.

Roses are passed around. He’s never seen a blue rose before, but some dancers walk around with them as they change out of costume and gather their things. He points out a yellow rose from the bunch presented to him, but it turns out to be a bouquet for him specifically, and he takes the whole thing with his jaw slightly hanging. Everything’s a bit... slow. Soonyoung feels like he’s wading through water.

He hasn’t changed yet, simply standing in his costume as he watches people go back and forth. Other performers move from dressing room to dressing room, cleaning up what they have to while simultaneously patting each other’s backs. Techs go around making sure everything’s in order, nothing lost or forgotten. They put away the MC’s microphones and bother the dancers for not taking proper care of props even though it’s only been one night.

Another tap on his shoulder; it’s Sehee again.

“Can I talk to you?” she asks.

He follows her to a corner of the stage, where the curtains hang and hide the two — for the most part.

She turns almost too abruptly, causing Soonyoung to stumble over his own two feet to avoid bumping into her.

“This is really hard for me to say,” she starts. “But I have to get it out.”

Soonyoung nods, maybe saying something close to a confirmation, but he can’t really tell. He’s a little lightheaded. Sehee has changed out of her leather, instead now in a pair of grey sweatpants and a simple t-shirt. That’s the thing about Sehee, though, she has that unnamed sort of... effortless beauty. Even with her stage makeup wiped off, she glows.

“This might be one of the last times I ever work with you, you know? Next year, my parents are making me quit dancing so I can focus on my major. It sucks, yeah, but they’re right. I need to focus if I want to succeed. You know that too, don’t you? The need to succeed?” She takes a breath; laughs bitterly. “Sorry, I’m getting off track... I just — I wanted to tell you this because if I don’t tonight, I might never get the chance again.”

Maybe Soonyoung has dreamed of this moment. He can’t be sure, not yet, so he lets her continue.

“I like you, Soonyoung. I have for a while. But things happened, and you got together with...” her voice trails off. “And you seemed happy, after a while. I thought maybe I could just keep it hidden but, I don’t know, I think I need to tell you, to get closure because I'm not sure if I can go on without at least—”

Choices. Soonyoung — and everyone else in the world — has only made it through life with decisions. He’s made good ones. Bad ones. He’s had regrets and he’s had none. This, though, this choice is intensely apparent.

Apparent in the way he knows it will affect much more than he wishes.

He kisses her.

God, this is what he wanted, right? What he’s wanted for so long. He used to toss and turn at night over the thought of Sehee’s eyes; her smile; her lips.

And on his, they were heaven. Plump and soft just like the romance novels say, moving at the exact pace of his heartbeat.

The hand holding his bouquet drops to his side as the other goes to cup Sehee’s cheek. Faintly, the sound of paper fluttering to the ground reaches his ears, but nothing can distract him from this moment.

Until, of course, it ends.

Sehee pulls away. “We can’t— I don’t—”

Someone clears their throat.

Soonyoung turns, finding Minghao standing just off from the curtains, arms crossed and face contorted in thinly-veiled anger.

And you.

You’re standing next to Minghao, obviously shocked — over being seen or what you’ve seen, Soonyoung doesn’t know. Hands fisted and held close to your chest, your eyes widen as they meet Soonyoung’s.

It’s not so dramatic as the movies.

Soonyoung stares at you, tongue unmoving with nothing to say. You stare back, almost frozen, until Minghao gently takes you by your shoulders, forcing you to turn and leave the way you must’ve come. Nothing happens in the time it takes. Soonyoung simply watches.

He’s never been good at reading lips, but he thinks he knows exactly what Minghao whispers in your ear.

There’s something you should know.

Sehee mutters, “Sorry,” and leaves. She looks guilt-ridden as she does, but even in his half-frozen state, Soonyoung knows all of this is on him.

He stands alone in that corner of the stage, the only noise being the hum of fluorescent lights and the distant sound of the last stragglers in the dressing rooms. His hands clench, and the brown paper of the bouquet crumples. He looks at it then, at the yellow roses and baby’s breath, at the beige note that’s fallen to the floor.

Slowly, he crouches, picking up the note with his thumb and forefinger.

Congratulations Soonyoung!! I know how hard you’ve worked for this night, which is why I ordered these to be delivered. Joshua told me yellow roses represent happiness, or something. Pretty, right? You deserve every happiness, so I decided to start with flowers. Tonight may be over, but who knows, maybe we’ll find happiness in tomorrow, too.

It’s stupid. It’s not a love letter. It’s laced with love, though, and he hates that he recognizes your handwriting.

Time moves heavily as Soonyoung turns to the backstage door. He’s the only one left now, his station in the second boy’s dressing room is messy, unlike everyone else’s. His reflection stares back at him while he sits in front of the mirror, motions halved in speed as he wipes off his eye makeup.

It’s over.

When was the last time he thought about how it would end?

He changes out of costume, arms growing stiff, and stuffs everything in his bag without much care for how. His regular clothes itch; he longs to scratch at his skin, but he doesn’t.

He leaves your bouquet on the counter.

His friends stand in a circle in the lobby, brows furrowed and voices hushed as they discuss... something. Soonyoung has a bad feeling he knows exactly the topic. Minghao isn’t there. Nor are you.

Jihoon isn’t around, either, but Soonyoung remembers he had to leave immediately after the performance. Something about an essay. It doesn’t really matter now, not compared to this.

When he approaches his friends, they quiet down further. Half of them look his way with a frown, while the other half choose to avert their eyes. What do they know?

Seungkwan stands out the most. His arms are crossed, his lips are pressed together in a thin line, and anger radiates from his very being. Of course he’s mad. You’re his friend.

The silence consumes Soonyoung as he nearly shrivels under his friends’ gazes. He must have taken his time, the lobby is empty except for them.

“Where’s Minghao?” he asks.

Seungkwan lurches forward, but both Seungcheol and Wonwoo bring up their arms to hold him back. 

“Where’s Minghao? Where’s Minghao?” he seethes. He jabs an accusatory finger in Soonyoung’s face. “You just kissed some girl and broke my best friend’s heart and you’re asking about Minghao?!”

So they don’t know. Not really.

Soonyoung endures the scolding. The looks. The questions. The noise.

No answers are really given.

The great thing about having best friends is that they know not to pamper you when you’ve done wrong. That’s also the worst thing about having best friends.

Seungkwan would go on and on, surely, but soon enough the boys notice how little Soonyoung is reacting — how his face and expression is slack and dull.

Joshua holds up a finger to quiet down the ones still complaining, then gestures towards the front entrance.

“Minghao left with her a while ago.” The look on his face is one of pity. Soonyoung hates it.

He nods; stuffs his hands in his pockets as he turns to the door.

“Wait! I’m not done—!” Seungkwan struggles against Wonwoo and Seungcheol, but he’s no match.

Soonyoung doesn’t stick around long enough to hear what happens next.

He has no sense of what to do when he walks out that door. Go home, maybe.

The night breeze hits him with more force than it should, making his eyes go dry and his lips tremble. Outside, everything is almost too loud. There’s traffic on all sides, surrounding the lot of the theatre; the sound of humming engines and honking horns assaults his senses.

He walks — though it feels like wandering — to the parking lot, where he plans to look around for a bus stop.

You’re there.

A mirage, he thinks at first, but you’re really there, sitting on one of those concrete barriers, legs outstretched and ankles crossed. You have your head lowered as you sit, hands braced on the cold concrete.

His held breath escapes him, and you look up.

“You’re here,” you say. The smile on your lips, ever so slight and ever so bitter, causes a ringing in his ears. “I almost thought you forgot about me.”

“I...”

“It’s a lie, right?” Your eyes glisten, but no tears fall. “You wouldn’t— I’m not— I’m not that naive, am I?”

Soonyoung’s lips part, but nothing moves past them. His hands itch to leave his pockets, but with nothing to reach for, they stay still.

“...I see.”

You drop your head again, bringing your hands together to fiddle with your fingernails. He hears your breath, shaky as it is, and his lungs constrict.

“God, it felt so real. I thought— I guess I don’t know what I thought, huh?” A shiver runs through you. “Was any of it real?” you ask the ground.

Soonyoung longs to answer. That’s the thing, though.

He doesn’t know.

Can any of it be real?

You laugh. Before, your laugh was spring strawberries; summer warblers; winter snowdrops. Now, your dry laughter echoes in Soonyoung’s mind like a pebble in a failed attempt of skipping stones.

“Guess not.”

You hop off the concrete barrier, wiping off your pants of dust and dirt. Still, you don’t meet his eyes.

Soonyoung’s heart beats in a way he knows isn’t natural. Guilt seeps through every orifice. “You’re not... you’re not yelling at me. You’re not crying — you’re not angry,” he stumbles through. “Why?”

It’s then that when you meet his eyes, he notices the dried tracks lining your cheeks. You have been crying, just in the time it took for him to come across you.

“I’m just disappointed in myself, Soonyoung,” you say. “I’m the one who fell for it so easily. I’m the one that was tricked. I’m the one who—” a breath “—who loved someone that didn’t love me back.” You step closer, arms limp at your side. “Once I get home, sure, I’ll cry my eyes out. Is that what you want to hear? I’ll curse myself for being so... so stupid.”

“It’s not your fault—”

“No, it’s not. This is not my fault. All I did was believe the words you said to me. All I did was hand myself to you on a silver platter.” Unshed tears brim at your eyelids, but it seems you refuse to let them fall. “But you know the worst part, Soonyoung?”

Everything?

“The worst part is I can’t yell at you. I’m not angry because I fell in love with someone who doesn’t love me back and it hurts and I can’t bring myself to hate you despite being told you’ve never thought about me the way I think about you.”

A breathy gasp escapes you, and you turn on a dime, the sight of your back an icy reminder to Soonyoung of what he’s yet to learn. You take a deep breath to gather yourself, shoulders rising and falling.

“I’ll be going now. I’ve got a lot to think about.”

Soonyoung doesn’t move from his spot when you walk away, or when you get into Minghao’s car, which pulls away after a moment of sitting there in its parking spot. His feet are stuck in stiff mud, unable to shift, even.

Perhaps he stands there for too long. It’s not until he’s staring down the front of his apartment that he realizes one of his friends must have dropped him off.

•

He hasn’t heard from you in a few days. He hasn’t heard from anyone in just as long.

Jihoon already knew (not everything, but enough) by the time Soonyoung rolled out of bed the day after. He hasn’t said anything about it, but Soonyoung can tell this silence isn’t the same as usual. They rarely eat meals together anymore. Last movie night, Jihoon didn’t even pretend to be busy, instead saying he simply wasn’t in the mood.

Seungkwan hasn’t left your side ever since... that happened. If Soonyoung happens to see you on campus, which is almost never, he backs out of approaching you because of the sheer force that is Seungkwan’s glare. Besides, he wouldn’t know what to say even if he did find the courage to face you.

Classes go by in blurs. Not quickly, like scenery past a car window, but so slow that once Soonyoung leaves, he remembers nothing but hours upon hours of staring at his empty notebook, even if the lecture was only fifty minutes long. Days are kind of like that too.

•

Sehee apologizes. She shouldn’t, but she does.

Soonyoung didn’t really hate what he did at first. He liked her, after all.

But when Sehee chokes on her own words, pleading to whoever will listen that she’s not that kind of girl, Soonyoung regrets kissing her more than he ever wanted to kiss her in the first place.

•

please let me explain

I’m sorry

it’s been a while, but still

I’m sorry

[🍥] Explain what?

[🍥] ...

[🍥] Soonyoung?

sorry I just

I wasn’t expecting you to answer

[🍥] Maybe I shouldn’t have

no

wait

I’m sorry

[🍥] So I’ve heard

I just want you to know why what happened, happened

[🍥] But I already know why

it’s not that simple

[🍥] You lied because you suck at lying. Because you knew Sehee was there that night and panicked. I was just collateral damage

[🍥] ...

[🍥] No answer, huh?

[🍥] So it really is that simple

please wait

I’m just trying to figure myself out

[🍥] Let me help you

[🍥] You want my forgiveness because you feel guilty. Maybe you don’t know it yet, but you want me to say I forgive you just so you won’t have to carry this around for the rest of your life

[🍥] I know this isn’t some romcom. I know you’re not here to get me back

[🍥] So just let it go

[🍥] Let’s just forget about this. About what happened

what if I can’t

[🍥] I don’t know

[🍥] Figure it out, I guess

[🍥] But do it on your own

•

Soonyoung doesn’t measure his time anymore.

He wakes up. He eats. He goes to class. He skips lunch. He goes home. He eats. He falls asleep.

When was the last time he went out with someone? When was the last time he had a real conversation?

He doesn’t know.

•

[Minghao] You should tell everyone else

why

[Minghao] Would you rather they think you’re a cheater or just an idiot?

I don’t know

[Minghao] I think they deserve an explanation

[Minghao] Want me to do it for you?

does it even matter anymore

[Minghao] It’s your choice

[Minghao] You just have to make it

then tell them

I don’t care

[Minghao] Are you sure?

tell them

•

These days, Soonyoung stays late at the studio. No one really practices there anymore, not since the showcase finished and finals have rolled around. Actually, Soonyoung should be studying too, but he can’t find the motivation. He thinks it might be the guilt.

You were right. He doesn’t want to carry this around.

The thing is, despite spending entire evenings in the studio, he can’t remember anything as he walks home. It must be hours spent in there, and yet, when he walks out, he can’t recall a thing. Like he was never there at all.

Where does the time go?

With his luck, the elevator is broken when he returns to the apartment building, so he has to take the stairs. Normally that wouldn’t be a big deal, but after hours of mindless, sloppy dancing, he’s much too tired. He fumbles with his keys when he tries to open the door, and he rests his forehead on the cool wood for a moment, sighing before he tries again.

The door creaks open. Though it’s late, the lights are still on, which Soonyoung frowns at when he realizes. Lately, Jihoon is never up when Soonyoung comes home. But there he is, sitting at the table right next to the kitchen with his eyes on his hands and his feet tucked under the chair.

Soonyoung freezes after shutting the door behind him, not wholly sure what to make of the scene before him.

After a moment of silence, Jihoon looks up from his fingers and meets Soonyoung’s gaze.

“Minghao called me today,” he says.

Soonyoung gulps, but doesn’t respond — doesn’t know how to.

“I didn’t want to believe it at first, you know.” His voice is slow, croaky; tired. “But it sort of makes sense, doesn’t it. I don’t know how I didn’t see it from the start.”

Slowly, Soonyoung slips off his shoes and steps further into the apartment. “So now you know. I’m really not in the mood for a lecture right now.”

“I just have a question.”

Soonyoung pauses, halfway through the apartment and only a few meters from his bedroom door. He turns to face Jihoon, sighing through his nose and digging his palm into his eye sockets. “Fine,” he concedes. “What?”

“If you never loved — never liked her, why are you acting like this now?”

“Acting like what?”

“Like a dead man walking.”

Soonyoung scoffs, a dry, empty sound as he looks away for a moment before meeting Jihoon’s gaze again. “You’re kidding, right?” he asks. “I lied to someone for months. I pretended to love someone I didn’t. I used her because of my own stupidity and pride, and then I used Sehee, too—” Pausing, he closes his eyes; takes a breath. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s guilt. I feel guilty for... for everything.”

“That’s the only reason?”

“Excuse me?”

Jihoon rhythmically taps the pads of his fingers on the table. It’s not loud enough to be heard, but Soonyoung’s eyes train to the sight. “It’s only the guilt?”

“What else would it be?”

This time, it’s Jihoon who sighs. He looks at his hands again for a second. “Do me a favour,” he says without looking up.

“Look, I already—”

“Just do what I say.”

Soonyoung groans, but he knows he can’t argue with Jihoon and win — not now at least. He rubs his eyes, shoulders rising and falling as he takes in a deep breath. Mumbling under his breath, he says, “Fine.”

Jihoon stands from his chair, and in such stagnant silence, the sound of the legs squeaking on the floor is profound. He points to the middle of the apartment, the large bit of floor-space that’s too big to be considered part of the kitchen but too small to house any furniture.

“Stand right there.”

“...What?”

Without answering, Jihoon simply points at the floor again, and Soonyoung can only groan in defiance as he moves to stand in that spot. Grabbing a throw pillow from the couch, Jihoon steps a few feet away, facing Soonyoung with the pillow held in one hand at his side. He seems to consider something for a moment.

Soonyoung has never been unable to read Jihoon this much, so he asks, “What is this all about—”

Jihoon screams. Not a high-pitched screech, but a guttural battle cry, and Soonyoung’s eyes widen. Faster than he can comprehend, Jihoon runs towards him and tackles him to the ground. Soonyoung’s legs crumble as he falls, and he feels the throw pillow pressing onto his face.

This is it, he thinks. This is how he dies.

“Jihoon!” he cries, but his protest is muffled by the pillow. “What the fuck are you—!”

“You fucking idiot! You don’t know shit!”

“I know that!” Soonyoung thrashes to get the pillow off, but Jihoon is way stronger than he looks.

“You miss her you fucking buffoon! You’re all in your doom and gloom because you had a good thing going and had to go fuck it up!”

“I don’t!”

“Don’t try to argue with me, fucker, I know you better than anyone. Now scream!”

The pillows squishes further down, and while Soonyoung can still breathe, it’s far from comfortable. He continues to struggle even though he knows it’s useless.

“What?!”

“Scream into the pillow! You’re mad at yourself and you should be! Let it all out!”

“I—”

“Scream!”

And he does. He lets out a loud bellow that’s nothing but sound roaring from his lungs. He does it mostly to appease Jihoon — so that maybe he’ll finally get off.

But it feels good.

No, not good, really. It feels awful. Everything feels awful. Yet, something about screaming makes him want to do it again. He yells once more into the pillow, the sound muffled in the fabric and yet intensely remarkable. He screams and he screams and he screams until he can’t scream anymore and his voice is raw and there’s no more sound aside from the fractured gasps of his sobs. Tears soak into rough fabric, and he doesn’t even notice that Jihoon isn’t holding the pillow anymore — he’s pressing it to his face himself. His body shakes under Jihoon. Soonyoung feels pathetic, but he can’t stop.

He tries again to scream into the pillow, but his voice cracks and all he knows is to cry.

This is what it’s like.

Quietly, Jihoon maneuvers himself so he sits by Soonyoung’s head. He slowly lifts a corner of the pillow and peeks at Soonyoung’s red face. “So,” he whispers, voice soft and full of care. “What are you going to do now?”

Soonyoung wraps his arms around the pillow, hiding his face again.

“I don’t know,” he says. He’s never felt less sure of anything. “I don’t know.”

•

That night, Soonyoung cleans his room. He doesn’t reorganize or anything, just picks discarded clothes up off the ground and throws them in a hamper, spreads his blankets so his bed actually looks bed-like, and takes his overflowing garbage bin out to the door, where he’ll take it out tomorrow morning. As he stretches his arm between his bed and the wall, his fingers close around the sweater he’s trying to reach and... something else. When he brings his hand back up, a small tiger plush stares back at him.

Go get ‘em, tiger!

He stares at the words for a moment, sitting up on his bed and leaning his back against the wall. The plush feels frail in his hands, almost like the velvet heart held in the tiger’s paws could crumble at any moment. Maybe it will.

Soonyoung settles down above the covers that night, and the tiger sits on his other pillow.

The one that still smells like you.

•

He cries. (For the second time since you left.)

•

After everything that’s happened, one would think it would take a miracle to fix what’s been broken. Soonyoung thinks it will take more than that, but still; he’s no miracle worker. He thinks it will take magic to just see you again.

Turns out, it takes a coffee.

Jihoon forces Soonyoung to join him in visiting one of the campus cafes. He doesn’t think about it too much, just believes Jihoon’s trying to keep him alive with a little kick of caffeine. That thought is pushed away when Jihoon blocks him from sitting at the little table, pointing instead across the space to the student printing center.

You’re talking to a customer at the front counter, forearms rested on the white faux marble. A smile is on your lips as you say whatever it is you’re saying to the girl, and Soonyoung finds it almost impossible to tear his eyes away. But he does. He scans the rest of the building for a second. Seungkwan is nowhere to be seen, and neither is Minghao.

He turns to Jihoon, a question on the tip of his tongue.

“She told the bodyguards to back off,” Jihoon explains without needing to be asked. “It’s been a few days.” He nods his chin towards you. “Go on. Talk to her.”

Soonyoung shakes his head, gulping down the words he can’t yet think of. “I don’t... I’m not... ready.”

“If you back out now, you’re going to keep backing out until it’s too late.”

Jihoon’s eyes blaze with an unfitting determination for such a setting. He looks stupid, like some self-made, all-knowing relationship guru who likes the coke he’s gripping too much. Still, he’s right.

Soonyoung licks his dry lips and looks at you again. You’ve sat down, relaxed after having helped that customer and now conversing with one of the other students working there. He misses the way you looked when you were happy — when you were happy with him.

What will it take to see that again?

What will it take to hold you again?

His feet move before his doubts can stop him, and the scene feels awfully familiar. This time though, Soonyoung can’t help but feel like the bad guy.

You don’t notice him until he’s right in front of you, and he doesn’t know what hurts more: the immediate frown, or the fake smile you use to cover it up.

“Hi, what can I do for you today?”

If Soonyoung had to define heartache, he might use this moment. Feigning to forget rather than acknowledging the past... it’s effective, but it hurts.

“Can...” He hesitates and curses himself for it. “Can we talk?”

“About printing, yes. About anything else? I really would rather we didn’t,” you say under your breath. It’s hushed, and you don’t shy away when Soonyoung leans closer to hear. That has to mean something, doesn’t it?

“But there’s something I need to say.”

“I don’t think I want to hear anymore apologies, Soonyoung.”

“It’s not that,” he argues.

Your eyebrows scrunch together. “It’s not an apology?”

“No— I mean, well, yes I want to apologize. I don’t think I’ll ever stop apologizing, but— but that’s not what I—”

“Soonyoung.”

He stops at your word, knowing that speaking will only get him further into trouble. Around you, his words keep failing. Instead, he meets your eyes, which under more inspection, seem hardened.

Have eyes ever looked so hardened when brimmed with tears?

“I don’t know if you know this, but seeing you makes me hate myself.” By now, your coworker has walked to the back, probably to respect your privacy. Your voice almost cracks. “I’ve felt worthless before, but Soonyoung, do you even realize what that — what you did to me?”

He barely breathes before saying, “What if I... what if I said I fell in love with you? Somewhere along the way?” A pause. Your eyes waver, but steady themselves. “What if I said I love you?”

“Soonyoung,” you say after a second.

“Yes?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

•

[🍥] Give me a reason to give you a chance

this is real right?

[🍥] It’s not a dream if that’s what you’re asking

all of a sudden??

[🍥] Minghao and Jihoon said I should

[🍥] And I think I should too

[🍥] But it’s hard

[🍥] What you said yesterday... I don’t know if I can believe it just yet

will you meet me?

I want to see you

[🍥] Can you give me some time?

yes

all the time you need

but will you?

will you meet me?

[🍥] I don’t want to

[🍥] But then again, I do

[🍥] Just give me some time

•

A strange thing, time. It passes by much too quickly when you want it to last, and it drags on when all you want is to be there. There; right then; right now.

Soonyoung stays up late turning on and off his phone, waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting.

It’s only been two days.

Jihoon thinks he’s crazy, though he hasn’t said it out loud — Soonyoung can tell.

He also thinks he might be a little crazy, but that’s okay. If it means he’ll get the chance to make it up to you... maybe he’s fine with being crazy.

At some point, Jihoon barges into his room and takes away Soonyoung’s phone, snatching it straight out of his hands like the little thief he is. He keeps it out of reach despite being shorter, preaching bullshit like, “You need to calm down and act like a normal person!”

Fine, whatever.

Soonyoung goes out for some air. And instant ramen.

There’s a twenty-four hour convenience store right on the edge of campus, manned by a single tired university student that everyone is aware of, yet no one really seems to know his name. It’s one of those spots where time doesn’t exist; maybe names don’t, either.

Compared to the blackness of night, the blanch white convenience store sticks out like a sore thumb, especially with all the bright posters and fluorescent tube-lights. Soonyoung feels just as out of place with no people around just outside the store, but really, it’s to be expected at a time like two in the morning.

He’s right at the door when it chimes and slides open. And so are you.

Both of you freeze where you are, you in the doorway and he just in front. His jaw slacks slightly as he takes you in.

You’re in casual clothes again, a thick sweater and presumably pyjama pants. This version of you comes with good memories — for some reason he likes it more than he cares to admit. Maybe he liked that you could share a more vulnerable side to him, and he to you in return. Although, you’ve shown this side to even the unnamed convenience store guy.

It’s your voice that breaks him from his reverie.

“Soonyoung,” you say, and it’s softer than before. Maybe your voice is lighter from the fact that it’s two in the morning, maybe just because you’re tired, but a small part of Soonyoung wishes that it’s something else — that you sound softer because you’ve missed him too.

He hopes it isn’t just hope.

He says your name, the sound beautiful and battered on his tongue. A small smile passes your lips, so fast that he almost misses it, but he doesn’t. That’s one thing he knows about you: how much you care. Even if someone hurts you, you always take the time to hear them out. You give them chances. Soonyoung should thank his lucky stars that you’ve done the same for him.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

You smile again, and it reaches your eyes, however sad.

“Is it time?” he asks.

“It can be.” The plastic bag in your hand crinkles as you sway it back and forth. “Do you want it to be?”

“Yeah.” His voice comes out like a breath. “Please.”

“Then that’s what we’ll make it.”

You gesture to the ground, where the curb meets the asphalt, but Soonyoung is still a little shocked that he’s even met you here in the first place, so he watches, dazed, as you sit down on the curb before joining in. He stays silent as you pull out an ice cream cup and hand it to him. He stays silent as you procure a second one and peel open the plastic lid, digging into it with the wooden stick spoon-wannabe that comes with the package. He stays silent as you look at him, the wooden stick hanging from your mouth.

“So,” you say, scraping the side of the paper cup. Meeting his eyes, you sport a sly smile. “I hear you’re in love with me.”

The ice cream stays unopened in his hands. He finds it so easy to smile back.

“Yeah. I think I am.”

“You think you are?”

“I’ve never loved someone like this before,” he tries to explain, though the words are slow to his tongue. “I can only think.”

“I guess so.”

“But—” he looks at his fingers, fiddling with the plastic lid of the cup, and a small laugh escapes “—I’m thinking really, really hard.”

You laugh too; his heart blooms.

“Is that so?” you tease, smiling around the wooden spoon. “It’s gonna take more than that.”

“I think I can do it.”

“You think?”

“I think really hard.”

Soonyoung might be in love with every part of you, even if he never realized. Your laugh, your smile, your tells, your habits. He wishes he knew sooner, that this laugh could’ve been his forever long before now.

You scrape the last drops of ice cream out of the paper cup and leave the stick in your mouth, a bit chewed up. Your shoes tap against the asphalt, the rhythm something that draws both his and your eyes.

“You know...” you say, turning your head to meet his gaze once more. “You know you hurt me, right? You know this won’t be easy?”

“None of what we had was easy.”

A scoff runs past your lips. You bump your shoulder against his. “Speak for yourself. I fell hard and fast for you, asshole.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. I know.” You take the still unopened ice cream from his hands and stuff it right back in the bag it came from. “Say it again, though.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hmmm... maybe it’ll take a few more times.”

“I’m—”

“But not tonight,” you say. “Tonight...”

Your hand beside him closes the distance, grazing over his and pulling it over to your lap.

“...just hold me?”

And he does.

Bonus (gn) epilogue: Fluff and Context Bonus (gn) blurbs: [a fate of my choosing][pick a struggle]

#seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x female reader #hoshi imagines #hoshi scenarios #hoshi x reader #hoshi x female reader #kwon soonyoung scenarios #kwon soonyoung imagines #kwon soonyoung x reader #kwon soonyoung x female reader #hoshi angst #seventeen angst #svt scenarios #svt imagines #svt angst #kwon soonyoung angst #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #seventeen x reader

[thewulf]

Like Me, Maybe Love Me? || Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Summary: Request - What about one where the reader is at the hard deck with friends and gets hit on by Bradley, she of course brushes it off as him being friendly and doesn’t really think she’s being hit on.... Read Rest Here

A/N: whipped this one out. LOVED writing this fluffy, sappy, cute ass piece. Not super edited, hope you guys enjoy! Thanks for the request @loving-and-dreaming

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Y/N

Word Count: 1.8k +

“Hey pretty lady. You look beautiful tonight.” Bradley’s voice spoke from your side. Turning your head, you saw Natasha give you a knowing smile. She’d been so adamant that Bradley had feelings for you. Which you’d concluded just wasn’t possible. Not Bradley Bradshaw. Not the guy that had charisma for days and could pull literally any beautiful woman that walked into the Hard Deck. Why would he like you then? Your brain just couldn’t comprehend the thought.

Giving him a playful shove, you rolled your eyes turning back to look at the beer in your hands, not at those pretty brown eyes that looked all too amused. Silently cursing Natasha for leaving you alone with him, you whispered, “Whatever Bradshaw.”

He waved down the bartender ordering himself, and you, a round, “I’m not kidding Bug, you look really pretty. I like seeing you in civvy clothes.” His smile could’ve made you melt then and there had you not been white knuckling the countertops for balance.

Bradley had taken it upon himself to give you the nickname Bug after he decided he didn’t like your callsign, Spider. He always claimed you looked like more of a Bug than a Spider, whatever the hell that meant. Not that you minded, you liked the attention from him. Who wouldn’t?

Thankful you did in fact put foundation on after debating it because your cheeks were surely a nice red color now, “Hmm.” You sighed quickly, “Thanks, I guess.” It was a mumble as you played with the condensation on your glass rather than look at him.

He knew you were uncomfortable. In the way you shrunk in on yourself and your extreme fear of accepting a compliment he knew what he had to do. He had to make you see exactly what he saw. The kindest, sweetest, most thoughtful, and truly one of the most beautiful women he’d gotten the pleasure of getting to know in Top Gun 2.0. He’d decided early on he was going to pursue you. For some reason that he couldn’t figure out, you didn’t see what he saw.

He continued knowing it was time. He’d been patient with you, but he’d seemed to hit a wall that he needed to climb over. He wanted you, the real you. Not the one that shied away when he came around. He was always so jealous when he’d see you throw your head back in laughter at a stupid joke somebody else told you. You were so animated in the way you conversed, and it only got more pronounced the more you drank. That was just one of the things Bradley had come to adore about you. You expressed yourself as an open book, so easy to read. Like right now, uncomfortable and shying away.

“As a matter a fact,” He set his glass down so you’d look at him. He smirked when it worked. His eyes traced your face noticing the rosy cheeks and almost afraid eyes, “You look beautiful everyday Y/N.”

Your eyes crinkled together in confusion. What in the hell was going on? Sure, you and Bradley were flirty from time to time. But you’d thought it was just a joke. He was going further than either of you had cared too over the last four weeks. Did Nat put him up to this?

“Oh, really?” You asked. Your voice was so small you wanted to slap the sense right back into yourself. Why couldn’t you just be normal and converse with the man? Why oh why did your brain have to do this to yourself?

His smirk softened down to a smile seeing as your brain was surely reeling. He needed to make you feel comfortable, not afraid of him like you were looking just moments prior.

A small nod confirmed your question, “Yes. You know I’d never lie to you. I think you’re so beautiful. Have from the second I laid eyes on you in class. Why do you think I sat down next to you pretty? I’ve only grown to like you more and more the more I get to know you.”

The look on his face gave way to the fact that he was indeed being sincere. But it just didn’t make sense. Not at all, “Why?” You asked as you looked back into his eyes, “Why me?”

Bradley really didn’t want to have this conversation at the bar. No, not with the music blaring. He didn’t want to yell his heart out to you. So, he nodded towards the door extending a hand to you. Offering to walk you to it.

Without a second though you put your hand in his. He grinned as he laced his fingers between yours. Gently, he pulled you towards the back exit onto the beach. Thankful it was a chillier night for a few reasons. One in that the back patio was almost empty. Two in that he could pull you close to him as soon as you started shivering. Which wouldn’t be very long by the way he judged the rapidly falling temperatures once the sun had set.

He didn’t give you much of an option as he pulled you onto the outdoor couch close to him. He knew you’d sit on the chair across from the fire pit rather than sit next to him. But he wasn’t giving you that option, no. Not when he knew how badly you had wanted this just as much as he did. He was ready to take the next step so long as you were too.

“Bug.” He started. You looked up to him slowly enjoying your hand still in his. He used his thumb to rub circles on the back of your hand trying to calm your racing heart.

“Yeah?” You asked not being able to take the silence from him.

He smiled seeing your brain working in overdrive. He had to put you out of your misery, “You have to know how amazing you are. You’re incredible.”

When you tried to look away he grabbed your chin with his free hand turning you back to him, “Can I see those pretty eyes?” He dropped his gentle embrace on your face leaving a trail of rippling goosebumps in its path.

Your nod let him know you were going to oblige to his request, but you couldn’t find the words to speak.

“Thank you my dear.” He grinned seeing that blush reappear rapidly, “Now, where was I?”

“I…” You gulped not sure what the hell to say to him. You truly were at

“Oh yeah, you’re incredible. You’re the smartest pilot I’ve ever worked with. Like, no joke. You’re the only one of us who’s gotten a kill on Mav. I thought I fell in love with you right then and there.” He snickered not seeing your face fully freaking out now. Bradley could love you? That just, no. You’d only known him for four weeks. There wasn’t a way. Not a damn way.

“You what?” You gulped not sure if you’d heard him right

His smile softened once he saw your panic, “Relax, Y/N. Just breathe.” He didn’t deny it though. He wasn’t going to lie to you. He did in fact love you. Sure, it had only been four weeks, but he’d spent almost every hour of those last four weeks with you. He’d gotten to know you. To see how incredible, you really were. Bradley was hooked. You had him in the palm of your hands and you didn’t even know it.

Another nod and a squeeze of your hand on his let him know you were fine, “I’m sorry, I just… I don’t know Bradley.” A sigh escaped your lips after struggling to find the words to explain it to him.

“Don’t apologize. Your feelings are valid. What’s going on up there?” He tapped on your forehead gently.

Might as well ask him. He was being so genuine with you, “Are you being serious?”

His expression to one of almost, hurt? But he shook it off nodding his head, “Yes Y/N. Why would I lie?” He asked you now, flipping the script back on you.

“I don’t…” You started before he placed a finger on your lips.

The shake of the head stopped you in your tracks, “I think you do. You can tell me.” He brushed your hair away from your face, “If you want. No pressure.” His smile let you know just how much he really truly did care for you.

“Nobody has ever picked me. I guess I just don’t get why you would.” It was so quiet you could hear a needle drop. Just the waves and Bradley’s stare on you.

“Nobody has ever picked you because you scare the shit out of them sweetheart.” He spit out before his brain could really process it. But it was true.

“What?” That was a new one.

He scooted closer seeing the cold starting to nip at your skin. He knew it was fine seeing the pretty little blush spread across your face, “You intimidate most men sweetheart. And the ones you don’t scare the living shit out of are brushed off. You’re doing it right now.”

“I don’t remember signing up for a therapy session Bradshaw.” You muttered out feeling a touch better at that admission from the man you’d been crushing on for so long.

He laughed feeling the tension slowly leaving the air. You seemed to have a new lightness to you after finally admitting what had been on your tongue for so long, “Love’s a therapy session.”

“You keep saying that word.” You replied quickly, almost as if your brain had lost its filter now that you’d admitted your fear to him. One that he brushed off so quickly it didn’t even seem reasonable to fear over.

His eyes quipped up, “I can stop.”

“I didn’t say that Bradley.”

He let out a soft chuckle, “Okay, I won’t then.”

“So,” You decided to make a move on him, might as well. He’d made every single move in the last thirty minutes. He was genuine. You closed the gap completely leaning into his side. He snaked an arm around your waist letting it rest on the top of your thigh. Your heart was hammering in your chest afraid you say or do something stupid.

“So.” He smile so big once you leaned your head down on his chest after having a battle with yourself on whether to do it or not. Without a second thought he began running a hand through your hair as if he’d done it a thousand time before.

“You like me, maybe love me?” You asked with a devious grin on your face starting to believe that the man was in face telling you the truth.

This time Bradley threw his head back in laughter. Once he began to calm he spoke with a look of love laced in his eyes, “Yeah, I like you. Yeah, I maybe love you.” He winked letting you decide what he meant.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mayhemmanaged @hardballoonlove

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun imagine #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley x reader #bradley x y/n #bradley x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster x y/n #rooster x oc #rooster #rooster top gun #rooster fanfic #tgm #top gun x oc #top gun x reader #top gun x y/n #top gun x you #top gun movie #top gun masterlist #top gun fanfiction #top gun fluff #top gun fandom

[sanjisblackasswife]

JJK Men When You Randomly Grab Their Tiddy (Black Fem! Reader)

A/N: I love Men’s tiddies.

Ft. Toji, Geto, Gojo

CW: Chaos and Gropping

Toji

I mean…who wouldn’t grab em

He’s constantly grabbing your titties so why not cop a feel yourself

However he thinks you’re just being horny and you have to let him know you didn’t mean it in a sexual way

He was laying on his back with no shirt on on your bed reading a pin up magazine and you felt like harassing him since it was his day off.

He doesn’t understand why you keep staring at him and gets a bit irritated.

“Come here.” His voice was low and raspy considering he was constantly tired on his off days. “What are you Doing, sweetheart?” He grabbed your hands to play with your fingers “Hm?”

You lost your train of thought until you felt his hand swat on your butt telling you to “pay attention “

You climbed on his lap to straddle him still looking at those huge GINANAMASOUROUS bazooongas he got

“I um…can I squeeze them?”

“What my balls?”

“No! Your boobies!”

“They’re not bo—-“

“Okay fine your chest i wanna squeeze em!”

He playfully rolls his eyes at you. Really? You’re watching him like a thief of the night and all you wanted to do was squeeze his TIDDIES?

“Okay…ah-!” He quickly grabbed your wrist, making you furrow your brows in confusion, “Gatta cockwarm me first.”

Your face went deadpanned. This horny mf—

“I’m still sore from this morning…”

“Quit lying I didn’t even go hard on you I was half sleep.”

“….fine. I’m not wet though—“

“Okay then sit on my face—-“

“ALL I WANNA DO IS GRAB YOUR TITS TOJI—“

Toji laughed seeing you so irritated with his demands. He of course wouldn’t let you do anything you didn’t want and enjoyed annoying you so he let go and threw his arms behind his head. “I’m just fucking with you…”

Your fake little pout quickly turned into a smile giving two big handful squeezes of his fluffy soft chest.

“Wow for a built guy you sure have soft tiddies.”

“Jealous?” He smirked at you, you glared at him with annoyance and pinched his nipple making him chuckle lowly wrapping his arms on your body dwarfing you into his chest. “Don’t you dare do that again.” Toji’s voice had a bit of playfulness in it as he warned you in your ear before peppering you with kisses.

Gojo

Mf wants YOU to squeeze em

He been working out a bit more and he just had to annoy somebody about it—somebody being you

“Look my boobs are almost as big as yours —feel!”

Mf will grab your hand and force you to grope him.

Eventually ends up making you rub his nipples with your fingers.

“Why are you like this.” Not giving him eye contact because you were so comfortable on the couch scrolling through TikTok with one hand now because the other was occupied touching your boyfriend’s chest.

“Commmonnnnnnn y/nnnnnnnn.” He snatched your phone making you cuss at him. He was smiling at you through his shades kneeling beside where you were laying completely shirtless. Most women would pounce at the opportunity of touching Gojo Satoru’s tits but you have been with him long enough to get accustomed to his crap.

“Just one squeeze! —-Like how I do your ass.”

“SATO!”

You groaned and adjusted yourself to get up looking at him tired like as your scarf was slipping off your head, he scooted closer in between your legs with his chest puffed out like a bird biting his lip in excitement. He really enjoyed having his tits played with.

You groped them and smirked. They did in fact get bigger.

“Why are they so round.” You flick his nipple making him snicker flinching holding his sensitive teets. “Mine aren’t even that perky.

“Aww Baby.” He pecked your pouty lips. “Your tits are Devine. Let me see em.”

“No!”

“Commonnnn you seen mine!”

“YOU MADE ME—?!”

Geto

“BACK WOMAN!”

“LET ME TOUCH THEM!”

“BACK I SAY—!”

Almost everyday after he finishes training, Geto dreads coming home because it’s like you have some kinda sweat kink because you immediately wanna grope him when he comes back home sweaty

Moreso his tiddies

He knows you love grabbing his chest, he lets you do it a lot when you both cuddle but eventually you start to suck on his nipples as well and he’s just so sensitive there he can’t last too long when you do it so he tries to keep the Gropping to a minimum

But you’re nearing your cycle and you get very touchy and horny during this time

Geto and you were running around the entire house as you were like a dog in heat trying to catch a bone.

More like Geto’s bone.

But today his chest looked extra groppable. They looked so bouncy and squishy especially with his scar showing right in the middle of it.

You needed to squeeze em.

Right now. Geto was on one side of the dining room table and you were on the other breathing harshly after running up and down the stairs as if it were a game of tag.

“JUST LET ME TOUCH YOU!”

“NO YOU ALWAYS GET CARRIED AWAY WHEN YOU ARE LIKE THIS LET ME TAKE A SHOWER!”

“LET ME TAKE ONE WITH YOU—“

“ABSOLUTELY NOT MOVE!”

He rushed out the dining room and you scurried right behind him. You got tired of his antic and started to get impatient so you did the most sane thing to do

You jumped on his back and you both fell.

Thank God you had long carpeted hallways because Geto probably would have had a broken nose the way he face planted on the floor.

“Y/N!” He rolled over on his back laughing completely giving up. He was so over you right now seeing you rub and press your hands against his sweaty chest, smiling at them like you found gold. “What is wrong with you?”

“I love your tiddies so much.”

“Yeah I know you do—-ah!” Geto croaked out a moan feeling you already latching your lips to his nipples.

Don’t worry he got back at you later.

#jujustu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto #jujustsu kaisen x reader #x black reader #toji x female reader #toji x black reader #toji headcanons #toji imagine #daddy toji #toji scenarios #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #geto headcanons #geto smut #geto x black reader #geto x female reader #geto scenarios #geto x y/n #geto fic #geto fluff #gojo x female reader #gojo x poc reader #jjk gojo #gojo smut #gojo imagine #gojo scenario #gojo saturo #gojo headcanons

[writefightandflightclub]

Blorbo thought of the day #5

Repetition: (Marc Spector x reader)

A/n: a little fluffy blurb 🥰 Starts with angst but Marc provides comfort and it’s lovely because he is lovely.

Warnings: (Reader has some abandonment / self-esteem issues, canon typical allusions to Marc’s past, implied off-camera sexy times, food mentions) Not proofed!

GIF by @anhandfulgirl18

“You a’right?” Marc asks you in his gruff morning voice as your sigh billows dolefully against the bare expanse of his chest. The room is golden hued with sunlight, bright and easy, and your mood as you wake certainly does not match it.

“Bad dream,” you explain curtly, deepening the niggle in your brow. “Just thinking.”

Marc crushes his chin to his chest in an attempt to get a better look at you. Smooths a warm, broad hand down your bare back, the gnarled patterned sheets pushed down around your middles. “What dream? What are you thinking?”

You stiffen, snapping out of your gloomy mood a little as you realise that you’ve been awake for a mere 30 seconds, and yet you have already managed to make his voice sound like that. Despondent. Taut with concern.

Your head still resting on his chest, his heartbeat thudding steadily beneath the shell of your ear, you let your fingers dance lightly over his pec, trailing in slow, repeating circles, round and round. “It’s just….” The words feel too big to come out, like there’s a traffic jam in your throat when you try to say it out loud.

It’s stupid. You know it is.

“What?” Marc encourages, whisper soft, his voice and his hands as gentle as the slip of fresh golden sun into the room.

You push yourself up. Lie on your front next to him, propping your chin on your fisting hands. Despite the tension roping through you, looking at Marc instantly makes you smile, even if the gesture itself is a subdued, somber sort of thing.

You reach up and ruffle his thick, dark strands with the rake of your fingers, fondly combing the tendrils back from his forehead, and he hums for you, low and soft.

God. This man. He always looks especially beautiful on a morning. The mussed, chaotic curls. The shadow of stubble darkening his jaw. The way he fans his long lashes, attempting to blink away the bright morning, always a complete snuggle fiend and wanting to lay in the dark with you just a little longer. The glisten of his Magen David pooled in the hollow of his throat, bobbing there as he swallows. His skin bare and warm and his natural scent not yet polluted by his morning shower.

You don’t think you could ever tire of this sight.

“It’s nothing. Not really. It’s just… Every now and again I get this… horrible gnawing feeling. Like one day you’ll… I dunno. Get bored of me?”

That wakes him up, and for the second time this morning you feel guilt writhe your belly. Marc, meanwhile, looks at you with a pure concern. Gaze flitting over you. Examining you as though you’ve been severely wounded - and he’s only now seeing it. “What do you mean?” He moves, the surprise animating him, and he shifts his elbows backwards to prop his torso up. His necklace elongates, settling into place in the valley of his shapely chest, and his mop of curls flopping once again over his forehead. “Honey. How could I ever?”

You play with a little bit of lint on the bed covers, suddenly intent on it. Retreating away from Marc’s intense, searching stare. “You know. You could. Maybe. From the repetition of it.” Your voice cracks like sun-baked earth - as though the golden morning has already dried you out. “You could get bored. Waking-up next to me every day? Hearing me talk about the same stuff all the time? Fucking me, over and over.”

At that comment, Marc’s brows knit and raise in the middle. His tongue fleets along his lower lip, his mouth turning down at the corners. God, those puppy dog eyes of his never get old.

“But you know I love fucking you over and over, shortcake.”

You shake your head softly. Self-conscious around him, and you have no idea why. “Marc.”

With the wet way you say his name, Marc turns immediately on to his side, still propped up on one elbow, his muscles popping as they bear his weight. And, his freed arm just as immediately is reaching for you. Fingers trailing down your back. You look at him and he looks pained. “Did I… Did I do something to make you think that-“

“-No.” Shit. You shouldn’t have said anything about it. Marc gets so in his head about these things. Always blames himself, as though, if you’re insecure, it means that he isn’t doing a good enough job of loving you. In fact, that could not be further from the truth. “No, Marc. I promise. It’s…” You sigh out a long breath. “It’s just how I feel sometimes. Like eventually, you’ll realise you want someone else. I mean, if I were you, I’d get tired of me too, you know? Sometimes it just feels… inevitable.” Your final word is so heavy that is weighs the tears that pool in your eyes, and yet, even through the blur, you risk a glance up at Marc again.

His palm comes to cradle your cheek. His eyes shine steadily on you. Even glint with an unexpected amusement, despite the situation, which you don’t yet comprehend.

“Baby. Do you never think about who you’re talking to, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it. I love repetition. Same thing, over and over? Fucking heaven.”

Your insecurities press you to dispute his statement, and your mouth even drops open to counter him; but, actually, when you think about it…

Marc?

This guy?

The guy who eats the same thing everyday for breakfast, except on Saturdays? Who does all of his tasks in the same way, in the same order, every time? Who watches the same three movies on repeat any time he gets a chance? Who buys four of the same shirt so he rarely has to change it up?

“Yeah. Okay,” you concede. “But, why though?Because it’s… easy? Convenient?” That’s not what you want to be for him.

Marc caresses your cheek with his palm again, gaze flitting fondly over your face. He frowns, like he’s never really thought about the why before. Because it had never really occurred to him to think about it. “No. Not exactly. I guess because… It makes me feel… safe.”

“Safe?”

Safe. Is that what you are to him?

“Yeah. Safe like…”

Not like home. Not like the place that never was; safe.

Safe, like the jumper you knitted him, maybe. Safe, like repeating stitch after repeating stitch wrapped around him, keeping him warm.

Repetition as comfort. Routine as the home he never had, built for himself, block by block.

Like that, maybe? Or, like something else?

You swallow harshly. “Safe like… boring?”

“No,” Marc says calmly, still thinking. “No, baby.”

Then, he moves. Crawls on top of you until his nude body is covering yours, boxing you in all safe.

You see the effort plainly in his face. See from the weight in his brow that he’s painstakingly searching for the right words. That he’s reaching for a way to make you get it. Searching for something which he knows for certain you’ll truly understand. “Safe like…” A lightness settles over Marc’s face as he lands on the very thing. Something you can both understand. No chance of misinterpretation. “Safe like… how Steven makes you feel, you know?” Then, he cocks his head to the side, a slow drag of a smile inching, lopsided, over his plush mouth. “Except, in a less brotherly way. Obviously.”

You can’t help it. You tear up. You know what Steven means to Marc. That Steven represented the first time Marc had felt loved. Protected. That Steven made you feel that same way too. “I really make you feel like that?”

Marc’s eyes glow softly with a smile, crinkles appearing around his eyes, since he’s finally beginning to make you understand. “Yeah. Now you’re getting it. And hey. You’d never get sick of that, would you?”

You wouldn’t. “Never.”

“Good.” He presses a kiss to your lips. Buries his face in your neck, lips sliding tenderly down the column of your throat. Holding you tightly, his body covering you. He kisses along your collarbone, his tongue laving there. “I’ll never be bored of you.”

“Promise?”

Marc props himself up on his forearms, boxing you in either side of your head and nuzzling the tip of his nose against yours. “In a thousand lifetimes? I’d love you over and over and over and over.”

Finally, you submit a watery smile to him, releasing your sadness and your fears and your tension. Wrapping your arms around him and pulling his mouth down to yours for a deep, tender, loving kiss.

“Well,” you suspire when you break for air. “Then I suppose I like repetition too.”

“Oh yeah?”

You kiss the tip of his nose and his face crinkles with a delicious smile. “Yeah. Because I wanna wake up beside you every single day, Marc Spector.” He smiles in awe at you, eyes glistening with unadulterated adoration and you kiss along his jawline. “And sometimes Steven or Jake too,” you add as an aside. “That I’ll allow.” Marc’s face splits into a beaming smile. “Now, kisses for you all.” You grasp his face in your splayed hands and plant three kisses in turn. One on the cheek, one to the centre of his forehead, and one on his lips, which is all for him.

Marc’s eyes flutter closed as your kiss puckers against him. “Now, get off me, will you?” you tease fondly. “I’ll get us some breakfast. I’m gonna need you fuelled-up.”

“What for?”

“For all of the repetitive fucking we’re about to do.”

Marc flips obediently on to his back, folding his arms behind his head and baring himself entirely to you as you sway -naked- towards the kitchen. “Oh, is that right?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, shortcake.”

You are. You’re feeling much better thanks to Marc and the way in which he loves you - which, you’re discovering, never gets old.

“What are we having?” he asks as you begin to raid the cabinets.

“The usual.” you glance towards him, a smirk on your mouth. “I mean. If that’s okay with you.”

He smiles softly at you in return. “The usual sounds perfect.”

It’s funny.

Marc always did love a little repetition.

#marc spector x reader #marc spector #moon knight x reader #moon knight

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Trey, Leona: The Cat's Meow

Ooooh, I see the vision now... Maybe?? It looks like each member of the same dorm might have a similar default image in the bottom frame of their initial art? Both Ace and Trey have the Queen of Hearts… I guess we’ll have to wait until Cater’s birthday to see if the pattern keeps up?

nfdbwjccwbxgak How fitting to see Trey posed alongside a painting of the Cheshire Cat considering who he’s childhood friends with… and also that Trey’s VA also goices Lucius www (Side note: they fr always gotta have Trey claim he’s “normal” right before he pulls the sussy face which is most certainly NOT normal 😭)

A Tale as Old as Time.

A rotund feline stood on hind legs in a platinum frame, one paw curled under its round chin and resting on its fluffy tail, the other flicked out in a devil-may-care gesture. Purple, pink, purple, pink—its fur was striped in a repeating pattern. Eyes raised upward, the cat looked inquisitive among the gnarled trees, as if posing a riddle to the viewer. Why is a raven like a writing desk?, perhaps.

Huh, I wonder what he's wondering about. Trey rested his chin in one hand as he pondered the painting—and the question.

The longer he gazed at the cat, the more familiar its silly smile seemed to be. How difficult he was to read. A thought crept up on him, one lazy stride at a time.

"... Reminds me of a certain guy," he muttered.

"I hope you’re not talking about me," came a sarcastic drawl from beside him. It, too, was cat-like in its own right, a different flavor of feline: more languid than whimsical. “Because I won’t be laughing like a hyena at jokes made in poor taste.”

"Leona." Trey immediately made to step back, making space for the dorm leader. Leona's immense presence practically demanded it. "No, of course not. I was thinking about a childhood friend.“

“Hmph. You’ve got a childhood friend like this?” He made a face at the Cheshire Cat. A frown to challenge its foolhardy grin. “… Now I almost feel sorry for you, having to put up with a guy like that.”

“Oh, Chenya’s not that bad,” Trey said dismissively. “He’s a troublemaker, sure—but he’s got a good heart beneath all of that, and he wouldn’t hurt a fly. The worst is gets up to is playing a trick or two and stealing snacks.”

“What an exciting life,” Leona snorted, clearly not convinced. “He sounds like a real rascal for his age.”

“Like you wouldn’t believe. Sometimes it feels like he never really grew up from the times him, Riddle, and I were rolling around in clover fields and stuffing our faces with cake. Still, he’s our friend—even if we’re far apart for schooling.”

“It was already hard enough to believe you’d be friends with him, but Riddle too?” A smirk rose on Leona’s lips. “Life works in mysterious ways.”

There was a chuckle from Trey. “Ahahah… Does it surprise you? We all come from the same hometown. The community there’s very welcoming. I guess that’s why we ended up reaching out to Riddle one day and… I’m sure you know how the rest of that story goes.”

He didn’t—and nor did he care to know, so he said nothing. Instead, Leona inclined his head. In the dimness of the museum, his eyes glinted a bright green.

He gave a command.

“… Oi, herbivore. Tell me more about this hometown of yours. Tell me what it’s like.”

Trey blinked, slightly flabbergasted at what he was hearing. Leona stared at him expectantly. He clicked his tongue.

“Well? Don’t keep me waiting.“

Huh, I didn’t think of Leona as the curious type. If that’s what he wants though, who am I to deny it?

“Okay. so…”

Trey returned a hand to his chin. His words, he considered. How to best arrange them to paint the most flattering photo?

Green, so much green. A scattering of red dotting the landscape. Saturation, cheer. Something warm and fuzzy whenever he imagined those scenes—like the sun upon his face.

“Imagine a place bursting with flowers. Every color, every shape, every smell. Some remind you of cotton candy that rots your teeth, others of old shoes and skunk."

Leona's sensitive nose wrinkled at the suggestion. "Real poetic there."

Trey continued. "Everyone knows each other not because the community is small--I'd say it's a decent size?--but because people see each other and talk. They ask how you are, how your family and business are doing. They come over with a platter of cookies to welcome new neighbors, ask if your kids want to come over and play with theirs."

Fond memories played out in his head: the time he had eaten a whole bottle of mustard to prove a point, messing up his signature spell and imparting a loaf of bread with a bad flavor, his first cake at four years old. Everyone had told him he had such talent for baking--but looking back on it, hadn't his "cake" been a lumpy, gooey mess?

"You could screw up pretty badly and they'd still pat you on the head and tell you it's fine, it's just an honest mistake or what a good job you did. My parents are like that too. It must come with the territory."

Leona listened and nodded to every piece of information Trey presented. He appeared bemused as he watched the vice dorm leader, a fleck of sunlight caught in his emerald eyes. Like that of a silent predator stalking innocent prey.

“How picturesque. No wonder you’re so well-adjusted and normal,” Leona purred, his gaze half-lidded. “It must be the power of true love at work.”

“You could say that. The community I grew up in was very loving and supportive. I’m thankful for that.” Trey smirked so briefly that onlookers could have easily missed it. "... It lets me get away with a whole lot more."

"You don't strike me as the kind of guy to act out."

"Not often," Trey corrected. "Only little acts when it's deserved."

"You and your bleeding heart." Leona's scoff gave way to an eerie quiet. From it came a soft, contemplative sigh. "... Must be nice, being able to afford to live so contentedly."

"Ah, you probably didn't have that kind of luxury," Trey recognized. "The life of a prince is different from us common folk."

"There’s pressure to perform and social politics to navigate. Complicated webs that span several circles, grace and relations to uphold, airs to wear. Aaaah, it’s such a drag," the lion beastman groaned.

"Yeah, I can imagine that." Trey smiled sympathetically. "But even though we come from very different places, I'm sure that you also had loving and supportive people in your life, Leona. Everyone does."

"Hah. Are you listening to yourself? You sound as mad as him." Leona jabbed at thumb at the Cheshire Cat. "It's the first-born prince--the one destined to be king--that they all adore."

“… That’s not completely true, is it?” Trey adjusted his glasses. A stray beam of light reflected off the face of them, casting the glass in pure white for a fraction of a second.

The reason Leona was asking about my hometown... It must be genuine curiosity. He's never known something like it. But the fact that he asked must mean he wants to learn, right?

The prince's eyes were angry, suspicious slivers now. "What are you suggesting?"

“I heard from Ace and Deuce that you have a cute little nephew that adores you. A lot of the Savanaclaw underclassman as well. And from Lilia—there’s a grand chamberlain you used to be close with as a kid. Playing chess and getting you out of trouble. Your brother too, he must care for..."

Leona bared his teeth, raised his voice. "Don't act like you know--"

Me. What I've been through, what I've suffered.

"Whoa, whoa!" Trey held up both hands. "Sorry. I said too much. I shouldn't have let my own curiosity get the better of me."

A growl--colored with residual anger--emanated from Leona's throat. "If you understand that, then don't stick your hand into a lion's den a second time."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Trey pulled back, the fingers of one hand curling into a loose first. The other hand found its way to perching at his waist as he leaned his body forward. He attempted an apologetic confession--but instead produced something slightly sinister.

"What are you doing now?"

"Cat to cat communication," Trey said, deadly serious. "You know, like 'nyah'!"

A pause.

"... Is that good enough of an apology?" Trey inquired.

"Don't screw with me," Leona muttered, batting away at his peer's poised "paw". "In the first place, your posture's all wrong. Are you trying to piss me off?"

"Looks like I failed to lighten the mood."

"You're really terrible at it," Leona grumbled under his breath. "You sure that childhood friend of yours is the troublemaker of the group? Cuz to me, I see another troublemaker in the trio."

"I'm a normal high school boy. You even said it yourself."

"And which one of us started meowing at the other out of the blue?" Leona expertly countered.

Trey stifled his voice, which had started to work its way up into an awkward laugh. "Pfft, alright. Point taken."

"Here I was, thinking you were 'normal'," Leona simpered. "The red young master sure has a way with picking the company he keeps. You're all odd to balance out his rationale."

"That's the role a card soldier plays for his queen. Friend, baker, cat, trump card--I'm here to be them all."

#twst imagines #Trey Clover #Leona Kingscholar #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #Trey birthday takeover #spoilers #something no one asked for #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #this time I basically only referenced the Groovy painting #I didn't find anything super interesting to incorporate from the other paintings mentioned in the vignettes rip #Cheshire Cat

[ken-dom]

Need fluffy tummy lars fic 😭

I know this says fluff but we’ve discussed it since, and it’s got some spice too, so… under the cut 😈

NSFW, gn!reader, making out, mentions of panicked and overwhelmed Lars, touch therapy, very light themes of body worship

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

Lars flinched at the hand rucking up the front of his sweater, his three additional layers sliding up with it, leaving his lower belly exposed to the cool air.

He squeezed his eyes shut, worried what you’d think when you realised he didn’t have a six pack of rippling abs you could use as a washboard, but also bracing himself for the impending sensation of his trousers tightening around his waist as you unfastened the clip, and the sound of the zipper being lowered enough for you to free his length.

That’s what came next right — after a kiss like this one? Hungry and needy and desperate? When you’d been practising touch for so long and he’d practically begged you to take it up a notch?

But his trousers remained closed, too tight over his growing bulge, half relief and half disappointment settling uncomfortably in his gut, swirling with the butterflies he couldn’t control.

You moved so slowly, dragging your fingertips along his waistband, ghosting over his skin. He’d never been touched there by someone else. It felt surprisingly nice. Tingly. Warm. He waited for you to change your mind.

As you somehow deepened the kiss further, you eagerly grabbed a handful of his belly, the soft curve filling the hollow of your palm as your fingers tenderly kneaded his flesh.

He moaned, not expecting it to feel so good, but it was comforting as far as touch went, and it sent thrills shooting right to his throbbing core each time you squeezed. A strange combination, but one he felt he’d missed out on for far too long.

Was he supposed to enjoy it like that? Was it supposed to be… sexy as well as comforting? Was he supposed to enjoy that his lips felt swollen and his guts felt like they were churning? Was he supposed to want to c-

He startled as you pulled your lips away to trail hot, sloppy kisses over his stubbled jaw and down his neck, still grabbing at his stomach, and he breathed a choked out and incredulous, ‘Y-you like that?’

‘Mmhmm,’ you hummed against his throat, and he whimpered, swooning back against his pillow, thankful you’d laid down part way through the kiss or he might actually pass out.

‘Your body is incredible,’ you whispered, sliding your hand further up inside his sweater to explore his very grabbable pecs, too. ‘Strong. Soft. Safe. So sexy it’s unreal…’

‘My… body? You like my body?’ he whined, writhing under your touch now. Your arousal pressed against his thigh was doing nothing to steady him.

‘I would’ve thought it was obvious how handsome you are all round, Lars,’ you soothed, leaning down to gently press your lips to his once again.

Lars swallowed hard. Touch therapy was one thing, but boosting his confidence too? Worshipping his body? You were making him dizzy. His cheeks burned.

‘Now take this sweater off, hm?’

‘W-why?’

‘I wanna watch you chop wood with those deliciously strong arms of yours. Too many layers.’

‘Oh- uhm- oh-ok,’ he agreed, smiling, and you lifted yourself off him, stopping to leave a final, wet kiss on the happy trail of that gorgeously soft, exposed belly and a hint of a bite too; just a gentle scrape of your teeth and a light suck, feeling him shudder as your lips popped away before you stood from his bed.

‘I know you want more. One step at a time, though? Like we agreed?’

He nodded, furrowing his brow. You were right. He was so close to becoming overwhelmed and panicking, but he wasn’t sure if even wood chopping would burn off this feeling, or if he’d be able to calm his erection at all without… well…

You took his hand and led him to the door. There, you smoothed down his mussed hair and leaned in close. His breath caught in his chest.

‘When you’ve built us a fire, we can take the rest of your clothes off and try more touching if you want to, alright?’

Was it safe to chop wood when he thought he might pass out? He wasn’t sure he cared.

#not s f w 💀 #lars lindstrom x reader #ryan gosling #lars and the real girl #lars lindstrom smut #lars lindstrom fluff #ryan gosling x reader #lars lindstrom imagines #ken-dom answers

[armins-main-hoe]

HI HELLO!!! I would like 2 request some haikyuu! Manager fluffy headcanons please??? Some of the fem! reader being chubby and popular, it can be either platonic or romantic! I also love your writing ✍️ have a good day/night 💗💗

Hello! That is honestly such a cute request and I have a few ideas for it hehehe

I’m going to do this for Karasuno and Nekoma, if you would like other teams, send in a request again saying which ones you want.

(For those who have sent in requests, don't worry, I'm getting round to writing them all up)

“Nah, I think she’s perfect the way she is”

Karasuno

In all honesty, you were really into music and you wanted to sign up for a music club, so when you found yourself standing in the gym, you couldn’t have felt any more out of place.

It seems there was a bit of a mix up with the sign up sheets and you ended up becoming the manager for the boy’s volleyball team.

You don’t know shit about volleyball.

You talked with the teachers and they said it may take some time for them to go through the sign up sheets and find an empty spot in the music club for you to switch into.

So for now, it seems like you're stuck being the boy's volleyball manager.

On your first day, you were very confused about what exactly you should be doing. I mean the team already has a coach and an qualified teacher with them, what can a student manager do?

So you just sat around, watching the boys practice while the coach yells at them. You weren't going to lie, you got a little bored...

Next few days, you would do the same thing, you even used the time to get homework done, since you thought you'd rather do something than do nothing.

You won't lie to yourself, you weren't popular, or that's what you thought, just known by everyone because of how you looked. You knew you weighed more than the other girls in your class, it didn't bother you all that much and you did always try to see the better side of things.

But that doesn't mean that everyone else thought the same.

You were eating lunch with your friends in the school courtyard when a student walking by with his friends yelled out names at you like "piggy", "diabeto" and "fat cow". You didn't really take words like that to heart, they never were all that creative with the name calling.

However, before you or your friends could say anything, a boy from the volleyball team (you pick who) came and stood up for you.

You watched as he stood in front of you and started yelling back at the boy who was name calling you. "I think she's perfect the way she is!"

As you watched him, you couldn't help but wonder "had he always been this good looking? I hadn't noticed before...."

Funny how now you suddenly feel motivated to actually look into volleyball.

So next time there was a practice, you came prepared. You did your research, you learned the basic rules of volleyball and asked other sport manager's what they do.

The boys were surprised to see you suddenly interested since you usually sat in a corner dong homework.

"The teachers are taking forever with sorting the mess up, I didn't think I'd actually be here for here for this long. But since I am, I might as well help out." You shrugged when they questioned it. It wasn't a lie completely but it wasn't the only reason.

You glanced over to the boy who stood up for you the other day before quickly looking away again, he was smiling at you.

As the weeks passed, you began to pick up more and more about volleyball. It wasn't long before you memorized the positions and each player's weakness and strength.

The other boys were quick to notice your little crush and thought that it was probably why you decided to stick around, but later they began to feel like you genuinely enjoying being manager as well. You weren't a bad manager either, you helped everyone equally and the team as a whole.

Nishinoya was little shit though, you were kind and nice to everyone but with him, you're patience wore down thin.

You did get an offer to change clubs and go do the music club you wanted, you thought of going to both volleyball and music but the timings clashed often so you had no choice but to pick.

Volleyball or music?

Oh well, you can practice music at home and the weekends, it's not like you can see your crush at home or the weekends, right?

You kinda knew making decisions based off of a boy wasn't really good for you but even if you wouldn't admit it, you kinda liked playing manager.

You actually found it fun.

When you told the boys that you were staying as their manager, you were taken back by their cheer.

"We were worried that you'd leave us when you get the chance to join the music cub" Hinata said.

"Sure, we didn't get off too well in the beginning but we like having you around now" Suga smiled at you.

The others nodded their head and in that moment, you felt immense happiness wash over you, your face felt a little hot from the praise and you felt a little embarrassed.

"Thanks guys, I promise to get better at being a manager too. I still have a lot to learn."

At the end of practice, you were helping clean up along with your not so secret crush.

"You know Y/N, I hope you don't mind what the others say about you."

You look at him. "Say what?"

"About your looks. It doesn't matter what a person looks like as long as they are happy and healthy." He says, looking at you with a sincere expression.

"Oh that, don't worry, I'm basically immune to those childish name callings, but thank you anyway for looking out for me" You smiled at him.

As you both continued to talk, you didn't see the rest of the boys spying on you both through the windows, silently cheering you and your crush on. They all are VERY supportive of you both, even though they all suck ass at being cupid.

Nekoma

No one and I mean no one has ever thought of bad mouthing you.

You quite literally were the sweetest girl in the whole school, always having pure intentions. No one could ever hate you, you got along with everyone.

You heard the volleyball club was looking for a manager for a while now with no luck so you decided to give it a go.

"hello I'm-"

"Y/N!" A few of them called out, running over to you. You recognised nearly all of the members, you had spoken to them at some point during your time as school, even the ones that were not in your year. You knew the basics of volleyball since the school sometimes made you do that in your Physical Education class.

Yamamoto was all over the place, he could basically explode with how much joy he felt. His team finally got a manager. He was so going to boast about it to his friends outside of school.

What amazed you was how seriously the boys took the sport, you weren't all that much into sports or anything really, you struggled to find something to actually be that passionate about that could lead into a future career.

So you weren't able to understand but respected their dedication and efforts nonetheless.

You were really good and hyping the boys up and giving them motivation when they needed it, some of them became very fond of you.

Kenma would sometimes try to hide behind you whenever Kuroo would be scolding him, you would give kuroo a sweet smile and lie to his face saying "I haven't seen Kenma all day!"

Whenever lev would to the same, it wouldn't work out the same but you found it enduring still. You would let out a laugh before acting like insanely tall guy was actually able to hide perfectly behind you.

Yaku would often tut at you for playing along, saying that lev needs to learn but you keep taking the seriousness out of it.

"But he has gotten better though, hasn't he?" you would say back.

"Not enough!" yaku would reply back before huffing away.

Though despite you being all smiles and sunshines most of the time, you did have moments where you would get a bit serious.

During tournaments specifically, the boys were good, really good even but so were other teams.

When you get nervous you would become quite and have a serious frown on your face.

Kinda scared the boys a bit ngl-

lev would laugh tho.

Maybe kuroo too.

They find it cute more than scary okay?

You would give them a pep talk before their very first game, promising to buy them all ice cream if they come first place.

Though no one at your school has ever badmouthed you, that doesn't mean people from other schools wouldn't.

Since you were on the chubby side, you were prone to some bullying when you were younger, though in middle school it died down a lot. The boys never saw you differently because of your weight though, you were sweet and a really good manager to them so why wouldn't they adore you?

So when they would overhear people from other schools making fun of you just because of something as little as your weight, they didn't take it that lightly.

They would only stop yelling threats and curse words when their next match is about to start or the "bad mouther" runs away. Kuroo once nearly got a bit physical too.

You would then tell them to ignore that when it happens since there is not use wasting breath over people like that, it's not like you take what they say to heart anyway... well most of the time anyway.

But like always. the team refused to ever ignore anyone making fun of you.

It's almost like you have a bunch of protective brothers, they sometimes tease you but no one else can.

I do hope you like it! Let me know if you want more :)

#haikyuu manager #haikyuu!! #haikyuu headcanons #haiykuu #haikyuu #nekoma manager #nekoma x reader #nekoma #karasuno x reader #karasuno headcanons #karasuno manager

[petarabbit2]

Realistic Ace Trappola + Headcanons

Ace headcanons + realistic artwork done with Art Breeder and edited in Clip Art Studio:

Okay so getting straight into it, this is my first post about my headcanons and realistic versions of twisted wonderland characters and the first one being introduced is *drumroll* Ace Trappola! Ace fans, you eating good tonight my chickies (that sounds so weird if u dont think of chickens right away LMFAO).

Sidenote: When headcanoning Ace and all my other characters, I take both factual and some of my personal thoughts/beliefs of the character to construct my headcanons.

So for Ace, its evident that I gave him acne due to reasoning such as his diet (fav food being cherry pie and mentioning his liking towards burgers) plus he is literally a teen boy that also has no women in his life and stereotypically the mother is the one to bring up looks as an issue, so without this Ace probably would have never gotten the right treatment for his acne. 

He’s already a red head so I added on that by giving him freckles. Also, it's known that redheads are more prone to acne, so another note as to why I gave him acne.

For his features for a realistic rendition, I went with a heart shaped face (because Ace’s card suit is hearts) but his widow's peak is hidden beneath his bangs. He has a snub nose shape which is quite round and slightly upturned. He has thicker eyebrows cause we all know bro don’t give a shit about his appearance.

For his hair I went wild, it's extremely fluffy, a bit curly and like shoulder length when wet. Bro has had like two haircuts his whole life and probably smells foul. I also tried to keep to the original style pretty closely without it looking really weird like bro came straight out of an anime. 

I didn't draw the bodies for any of them but Ace is more lanky with long legs and a rectangular body shape, but he has pretty big feet and hands.

Yeah and he's got a light British accent gang I’m sorry 😭 – he uses slang often as well.

Without & With Face Makeup:

Personality and backstory headcanons + a bit of character analysis:

Okay so Ace is one of the very first characters we meet in the game and a good one at that, a lot of people just put him in the category of “dumb friend with one brain cell”, and yes that's kinda true but every person had a reason to be the way they are due to personal experiences. We know in canon that Ace has always lived with his father and older brother but due to the literally no backstory on his mum, I’m saying his parents are divorced which he has much more time with his dad, also by his mannerism being so straight to the point and not sugar coated, this could be due to him being raised in an only male household. Which could also hint to why he “didn't feel committed” to his former relationship in middle school, he was so new to this type of love and got scared. After all he is just a teen, cut my boy some slack. (#1 Ace defender) 

Due to this relationship with his mother and seeing how his parents fell out of love, fought or similar, he’s very bad with women which is why he has only male friends. The only way he would have a girlfriend (or woman friend) is if they were not sensitive to his zero-filter way of speaking and even tell him off for it. (not me doing this since my yuusona is a girl 💀)

It's still mentioned that the whole family gets together around holidays (although this could possibly just mean his grandma and such and not the mothers side) so maybe the divorce wasn't messy and they just didn't love each other anymore, which happens all the time with quick relationships.

Ace is also pretty immature and not into deep and emotional conversations which is common with teen boys (especially around his age group). So not trying to hate, but all those scenarios made up with him comforting the reader and helping them feel better, in reality, he probably wouldn’t have gotten why you're so sad and not really know how to comfort you. Which is completely fine! He's not fully grown in body or mind and people need to accept this.

He definitely makes your mum jokes and sex jokes, bro cannot stop himself laughing when a teacher says anything sex related. He's highly competitive and will sulk if he loses a basketball game or bet with a friend.

Also despite being not very empathetic (not on purpose though), he appreciates the little things. For example, he’d appreciate you remembering his birthday or always having a spare pencil for him in class as you know he always loses his. He really appreciates those friends and even though he lacks in some areas, he will always protect them and stay by their side no matter what.

In conclusion, he's just some teen boy who's still learning about life and people. I had a lot of fun making the realistic design and giving him more depth as a character and I'll be doing this for the rest of the cast and after that maybe side characters?? Only if you guys want it though, I’ll also one day release my yuusona 😞. (she’s my queen get ready yall (hi i’m the 10/10 editor and assistant 😋)) (together, we are big brain)

My editor/assistant cause I can’t grammar or spell to save my life: @cyb3rpnnk 

SIDENOTE: DO NOT REPOST MY REALISTIC RENDITION OF ACE OR ANY OTHER CHARCTER I DO AS YOUR OWN. EVEN THOUGH THE BASE WAS MADE WITH AI IT IS STILL MY CREATION!

However you are permitied to use my headcanoing as your own for art or stories or whatever, just not my realistic rendition.

Hope you enjoyed my take on realistic Ace and my headcanoning!

#twisted wonderland #ace trappola #twisted wonderland headcannons #twst headcanons #twst hcs #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #realistic twisted wonderland #twst art #twst fanart #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fanart #twst wonderland #twst grim #yuusona #twst yuu #twst ace headcanons #twst ace trappola headcanons

[kissami]

sum. You never thought you’d find the one at your best friend’s coffee shop.

genre: fluff..super super fluffy

fem reader with she/ her pronouns

WARNING: I’m uploading this while at work so I’ll edit it once I’m home ! So it’s not cute and aesthetic rn 🙄🙄

"I just don't get why she keeps thinking this nonsense, Kyo! I mean, I help with taking care of bills, buying groceries, what else does she want from me?!"

Kyo rose an eyebrow towards you, watching you slam your head on the counter gently and placing your cup on the table, begging for the next round.

"I need another one."

You ordered, but he only rolled his eyes in return.

"You had four cups of coffee in just two hours, you had more than enough for at least a week."

Groaning, you squished your cheeks between your arms as you hid your head.

Your roommate had been annoying lately. Always being so stern with you even when you did almost everything so you two could have a comfy environment to live in, but no matter what you did, she just seemed to hate you more and more.

It was tough moving out of your parent’s place, but this girl truly was testing your limits it seemed.

It wasn’t always like this. When you first met her, she was very sweet and understanding with you which made you think that maybe you finally made a friend who wasn’t your childhood friend.

All you wanted was a friend, but ever since you introduced her to Kyo, she seemed to do a 180 and completely shut you out.

Only for you to find out the two were put together for a date…one he never showed up for without notice.

But speak of blinding dates…

"Oh my gosh! This is the third time you left me alone, you asshole! That's it, I'm done!"

A loud slam quickly brought you out of your mini crisis as your eyes averted over to the couple near the entrance.

Raising your eyebrows in amusement, you saw a girl with black hair grabbing her bag and leaving with a pissed off expression on her face. The blond she was sitting with that you assumed was her date, rubbed his face in annoyance.

He's gorgeous.

You turned to your friend and smiled as a bright idea had quickly made its way into your head which made him tense up a bit, shaking his head quickly as he knew exactly what you were trying to do.

"Nope, I'm done trying to set you up with my customers. You're on your own."

You pouted, watching as Kyo walked to the back room to speak to Tifa about the upcoming schedules.

You could see how close Tifa and him were getting, how flustered he’d get or rush at any moment to be with her. That was enough leverage for you to use against him.

Smirking, you turned back around to see the boy talking on his phone, his face showing not much concern it seemed, but by the looks of it, it seemed like he was being scolded like a cat from the other line of the call which had you intrigued.

Your eyes widened when he slammed his phone down on the table and sighing, digging inside of his pocket to grab his credit card from his black leather wallet.

He's gonna pay, no he can't leave yet!

That's when you thought of a great, amazing, and most definitely the best idea ever.

Walking over the counter as stealthy and quickly as possible, you hid behind it as you waited for him to ring the bell to pay.

DING!

Rising up, you smiled gently and leaned your hands on the counter.

"Hey, what can I do for ya,cutie?"

You could almost feel your eyes sparkle in amusement when he scoffed and rubbed his neck, looking at you with those bright blue eyes you could stare at forever.

"I'm just paying. And who are you? I've never seen you work here before and I come here everyday."

He spoke lowly and looking anywhere besides your face, his eyes fixated on a dancing chunky cat on the tv screen above your head.

"I just started…today? Right I just started working today!" You smiled nervously, rubbing your ring on your right hand.

"Oh, that's good to know I guess."

"Yeah, it is good to know, huh?"

Shit.

You thought as you turned around to your best friend, seeing him rise an eyebrow and clearly questioning your 'amazing' idea to get to know the cute boy that was looking at the both of you now even more confused than before.

"Yup! Aw Kyo don't act like I'm not the best employee you have!" You slapped his arm, glaring at him for him to play along.

"Yeah okay, anyways Cloud it's on the house today."

Cloud. What a cool name.

Cloud nodded, saying a small thank you as he began to walk away.

Your eyes shot over to your best friend, giving him a pleading look to have him stay a bit longer which made Kyo scoff.

If this guy had you pretend you worked at his coffee shop, the one place you said you would despise working at and rather lick the carpet, then you clearly were way more interested in him than he thought.

And boy were you going to be in debt for this.

"Only if you tell us what happened on your 5th blind date."

Kyo smirked, watching as Cloud stopped almost instantly.

Cloud stood there quietly. Usually he’d pretend he didn’t hear anything like this but he truly did need someone to listen to his frustrations and what better yet than the guy his best friend, Tifa, had a crush on?

"It's like no matter how many dates I'm set on, no one wants to continue dating me. I don't mind though, I don't need a partner to be happy I guess."

Hearing a bell ring, Kyo looked over to you and smirked even more, watching your sparkling like eyes looking even more interested in the blond and what he needed to say next.

"Well my favorite employee, it's time for you to get back to work, right?"

You opened and closed your mouth repeatedly like a fish out of water but it only resulted in him pushing you away to take the new order.

"Get along now stupid and do your job! I'm not paying you for nothing!"

"But you're not pa-"

"What was that employee of the month, I didn't quite hear you?!"

"Yeah yeah whatever."

Slumping your shoulders, you made your way to the cash register, and instantly losing braincells on how the hell to work it.

Kyo looked back, seeing the blond still looking over to you as you groaned like a little kid trying to figure out how the monstrosity worked.

A small smile slowly took the blond’s old sour frown which Kyo was quick to catch.

"She's single you know. Plus, she thinks you're really cute. The idiot doesn't even work for me but she did that to talk with you."

Cloud looked over to his friend and shrugged.

"I think she’s cute too, but she needs to work harder to get me. I'm not that easy you know."

"Yeah that's what all your old dates said too,huh?"

"Kyo…" Cloud sighed again, but kept his mako eyes on your cute figure who now was scrambling around like a lost puppy, following Tifa around as she laughed at how silly you looked trying to learn how to charge orders.

Kyo chuckled, shaking his head at how adorable you looked. "Besides, the idiot owes me. She'll be working here for a while."

To say Cloud wasn't looking forward to waking up everyday and heading to the café, was an understatement.

He was less grumpy now and would spend hours texting you all night, but he tried his best to show no interest in you at all, which to Tifa and Kyo, was obvious he had a thing for you.

You had no clue if he felt the same or not, which Cloud was a bit thankful of you being so oblivious.

That was until you finally had enough and needed to know exactly what was going on between the two of you.

Clearly there was something there, so what better way to figure it out than what you do best?

A hot americano with whipped cream topped with cinnamon and caramel was what he would get all the time, but you added something more for him.

Are you a loan bank? Because you got my interest.

Ah yes, your cheesy pick up lines. No matter how hard Cloud tried to keep a straight face, he still managed to let out a small smile that made your heart burst.

You've been doing this for three months straight now, but he finally had the guts to do something.

Can I borrow a kiss? I promise I'll give it back!

That was all it took for Cloud to lean over the counter and place his lips on yours.

#kissami #x reader #final fantasy 7 #cloud strife x reader #cloud strife #cloud strife x you #cloud x reader #ff7 cloud #final fantasy 7 remake #final fantasy vii #final fantasy cloud #x reader fluff #ff7 tifa #tifa lockhart #ff7 #fluff #ff7 fanfic #ff7 fic

[arctichotch]

hey, i saw your send request post, currently im not feeling well so can you write captain john price taking care of sick reader? also they have some cuddles, just a very fluffy fic! thank you!! :D

hey, hope you feel better soon!

(i haven't written anything in donkey's years so excuse the potential mess below)

pairing: john price x gn!reader

warnings: sickening FLUFF, sick stuff nothing gross though, short and sweet

whilst you're here check out my character list and feel free to send me more requests

You felt like your insides were on fire. That your brain was knocking on the backs of your eyes trying to bust out of the confines of your skull. You felt like a sweaty mess and judging by the looks of sympathy you got from your colleagues walking out of your office after your boss sent you home, you looked like one too.

The journey home was a total blur and you nearly collapsed onto your couch the second you got through the door, only just having enough energy to kick off your shoes. You heard the shrill ringing and buzzing of your phone dumped by the door but there was not a single part of you that felt you could go get it.

Your eyes slipped closed, and that was that. One final thought before you fell to sleep - John will not be happy that you went to work feeling unwell this morning...

-

The bang of your apartment door closing woke you suddenly.

Oh shit, you are definitely not in any position to even think of some of the self-defence John taught you, let alone using it.

Luckily, you heard one of your favourite sounds (although as much as the sound was appreciated, it still made your head throb.)

"Love, I'm home."

Shit, he was home. You had a vague remembrance of him letting you know he'd be home from his month long mission and having told him you'd take him out, treat him to dinner.

So much for those plans.

"M'here," You grumbled from your place on the couch. John rounded the couch into the living room turning on the lights, making you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to alleviate the pounding in your head. "Think m'sick."

"You look sick, yeah. This why you didn't pick up your phone, was calling you. Got worried, love." He knelt down beside you, his knees groaning at the movement.

"You shouldn't kneel like that, you'll hurt yourself, old man."

"Oi, watch it, cheeky." He placed his always freezing cold hand on your forehead. "Could fry an egg on that head of yours. Have you taken anything?"

You shook your head, burying your head into the pillow. "Okay, I'll go get some ibuprofen to try get your temperature down, then I'll get you something to eat. I assume you've not eaten anything, right?"

"Hmphh."

"What would you do without me, eh? Just wither away from the common cold." He chuckled as he moved towards the kitchen.

After he had loaded you up with ibuprofen, some toast and a whole lot of water, he set you up on the couch all tucked up with blankets and the TV loaded up with Netflix, while he took a shower (only allowed to leave after he had promised you with cuddles after he was done.)

When he came out you immediately commandeered him and his attention, snuggling up practically on top of him while watching your favourite show for the billionth time.

"I'm sorry that we couldn't do dinner. I promise this isn't just me trying to get out of paying."

He laughed, his big belly laugh that you miss every single day he is gone. "It's okay, love. I know you're really sick, poor baby."

"I feel gross and sick, and I don't want to make you sick but I really can't think of anything worse than you not being right here."

"I don't get sick, my immune system is undefeatable and you know it. You ever seen me sick, love?"

"There's always time, babe." You slipped your hand under his shirt resting it on his stomach, trying to leach some heat off him.

"You're shaking. You cold?" You nodded and he was quick to pull a blanket from the back of the couch to cover you both.

"I missed you, lots and lots." You said, just now feeling the relief of having him back safe with you.

"Missed you too, love. Hopefully got a few days off now, so I can nurse you back to health." He gave you a big sloppy kiss on your forehead, "I'll take my payment in kisses and cuddles, please. No other currency accepted."

You smiled looking up at him, "I'll see what I can work out."

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