School Is Absolutely Kicking Me. I Really Don't Know When I Can Write. It's Just Frustrating, And I'm

request:

reader jokingly puts a bell on miguel o’hara since he approaches so quietly he tends to startle you and the other spiders. he tolerates it because the humor improves work morale

little did he know that the bell will be jingling all night as you fuck him mercilessly

𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗦𝗜𝗟𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗟

✧ 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦 male reader x miguel o'hara

✧ 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 top!amab! reader, bottom! miguel, public blowjob, anal sex, saliva used as a lubricant, consensual suffocation, breath play, implied reader being a spider. minors dni.

✧ 𝖠/𝖭 my archive of editable images of miguel is over, accept this random edit then. I used a lot of words that I don't know very well, so please let me know if I've used something wrong

It was hard to hear anything but the unbearable jingling of the silver bell reverberating through his sensitive hearing; the little ball of iron inside the round shape swayed with fairy clinks where it was attached to the leather strap that tightened around his neck. A joke, had been how Miguel interpreted the unusual gift you said laughing that it was to know when he approached. A lame joke, but still, he let you close the noisy choker around his neck and accepted the kiss you pressed against his lips pursed in annoyance.

During the day, when the spiders shared laughter and a fun that Miguel didn't understand at the gift you gave him, Miguel hadn't paid attention to how the choker tightened his neck, how it accompanied the rise and fall of his throat ─ that he only noticed when you had him on his knees in a blind spot inside the Spider Society tower, and at the risk of being overheard by all nosy and curious spiders, pressed your cock deep into his tight throat until Miguel gasped and struggled for breath, bell rattling violently. The choker felt like your hands squeezing his neck.

After that, the ringing of the silver bell brought a faraway look that no one understood to his face, no one but you. He was remembering that moment, remembering your cock straining his mouth and the sounds you made each time his fangs grazed your cock, the danger of the act that was enough to make you both come, quickly. He found himself unable to get rid of the accessory.

And Miguel was aware of your eyes fixed on his neck as he spoke. Hypnotized. And he would be lying if he said he didn't know what was coming next.

The bell sounded like a drum as you smacked him against the front door of the apartment before Miguel could even close it. You demanded his attention, ravaging his mouth with symbolic violence and sweet urgency, tearing the civilian clothes Miguel wore until they were mere scraps of rags lying on the floor. All this so you could get your hands on his bare skin, map out the scars, the muscles firm and strong and his cock already eagerly hard for you.

You always seemed to want him so badly that it never ceased to amaze him.

You grabbed his bare thighs and lifted him into the air, pressing his back against the rickety door. As if he weighed nothing. Your strength would always surprise you, not because there wasn't someone stronger than Miguel or unable to take him down with pure physical strength, but because you never used your strength to hurt him, you treated him as something fragile and that should be taken care of.

And when the hurried stretching of his hole left him panting and clinging to you, silently begging for more through his grunts and moans and gasps, you kissed him and using only saliva to facilitate penetration, you slid your cock inside him.

The slide knocked the breath out of Miguel's lungs, the friction undiminished by the makeshift lubrication leaving him feeling every delicious inch of your cock opening in his flesh, demanding space.

Lips against his, even though you weren't kissing anymore and the hand that wasn't holding him high, closing around his neck just inches away from the choker, you started fucking him hard against the door. The bell reverberated with a loud bang, swaying along with your movements in and out of his ass and that was all Miguel could concentrate on: the stretching, the burning still there, the sound of the damn bell.

Miguel's eyes rolled back, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks and he searched for air, desperately gasped for oxygen ─ and you didn't have to look at his face to know it, the divine image of open mouth and spittle running down his chin; you could feel his throat rippling under your grip, heartbeat fluttering beneath your fingers. The leather strap there, close to your hand, seemed to become tighter, reflecting the pressure imposed by your fingers.

Miguel was shaking now, talons drawing blood from your shoulders, legs gripping around your waist, unable to move, unable to get away from the deep thrusts he could feel in his stomach or the bell that deafened his senses. He couldn't breathe.

White filled his vision and Miguel gasped as the oxygen suddenly handed back to him, the thud of his head hitting the door a distant sound. Maybe he came, maybe he passed out for a few seconds in your arms, but it didn't matter, he knew you were far from done with him.

A/N: Ok, I wanna expand in the thought..... sooooooooooo here <3 oh, and one day, I'll muster the currant to tag that amazing writer in this... one day. Today is that day!! @rodolfoparras (pls just ignore me...just wanted you to know this whole story is your fault with love /p)

CW|TW: includes more sexual things (oral, giving and receiving), implied FTM Price but not stated, a fear of growing older, detail of aids and way to much sappy fluff.

The glasses were Prices newest addition, these thin wire framed things that sat low on the bridge of his nose that he half tried to hide. Refusing to use them unless he absolutely needed to.

Only catching him at home, skimming through document with the things on so he can actaully read the fine print. You catch him, in your own shared home, squinting at a recipe he picked up off of Soap and wanted to try. It would be sorta funny if it wasn't as frustrating as it was.

Coming up behind him, you slip those damned glasses on his head, careful not to drop them on his skin but just place them in his hair with a soft kiss to that spot on his nape that always amost make his knees buckle. Hoping the distraction will help Price accept his fate of wearing glasses.

And it kind of does? If only for the moment, but then you were dragged away from your own brought home work to be picked up and placed on the counter. Handed that recipe and his glasses and asked, oh so sweetly.

"Read it to me?"

The glasses are fogged with condensation, so you know he tried. Just the frustration thats been building up coming to a head.

"Always, pretty."

You had honestly forgotten about him not wanting to wear his glasses after a while, him being called in for months with his team, it had just slipped your mind.

But apparently, someone on his team got him to wear those glasses. To the point that they now rest on his nightstand, reflecting the light in a way that should annoy you as he reads, but it just can't because he's wearing them and you are so proud.

That night may or may not have ended with you going down on him, singing praises about how good he looked all the way down his body. Hands finding the pudge of his gut and tracing the stretch marks on his thighs, easily pulling him into your mouth by his hips, happy to stay and lap at him until he's cum dry. All the while, his lust blown eyes stare at you through those wire rimmed glasses.

And it's like something clicked in his mind.

You didn't even notice when he held you open by your legs, kneeling down in front of you.

You just thought it was one of those days where Price wanted to please you, or to be that close to you that all he could feel and hear and taste and see, was you.

But it wasn't, or it was but not how he normally sank to his knees with worshipping touches, no you didn't notice at first. Eyes flickering closed against the lovely feeling he sent, chasing up and down your spine with every little touch. Yet, when you pet through his hair, careful to scrape your nails along his scalp, you felt something as you dropped that hand to trace his cheek.

That when you realized, there between your thighs with his hands holding you still and toungue half hanging out as he pulls off you to suckle on the skin where your hip and thighs meet, he's looking up at you with pupils blown wide behind those damned glasses.

"Price, you still- fuck."

"Hmm?" Price stops his pursuit with a light nip, smiling up at you, "I need to see you Sugar."

He nuzles the scratchy side of his jaw agaisnt you, watching as the skin goes red, a pleased look in his eyes. Hand coming up to hold your dick steady as he licks along the under side; only pausing to stare into your eyes and half whisper.

"Can't do that with out 'em"

Ok, I OD a while back and haven't had the time or the mental to post/write anything. But but but but you can blame rodolfoparras for this. Love thier work and all their cute cat pics!!

Old man Price, who starts wearing reading glasses from all the damage to his retna. He's kinda insecure about it, but when he sees how clear your blush is when he wears them?

He will just be between your thighs one night, breath way too hot, with those damn glasses still on because,

"I need to see you Love. Can't do that without 'em."

And he does, he wants to look at every shudder, and the way your lips try to hold those particularly embarrassing moans becuase fuck is Price good at sucking your sould out of your dick.

Planing on doing the Alejandro x K-9 unit reader.

Boys just a flirt so I need ideas on how he would interact,

Like is he a, "Bark for me boy" like ghost?

Or if he a, "I can be good if you asked me to" like Hangi?

Wait no. No no no.

He's a, "Oh you can beg better then that"

Nvm.

[Still like multi opions on that post btw]

Ok, I OD a while back and haven't had the time or the mental to post/write anything. But but but but you can blame rodolfoparras for this. Love thier work and all their cute cat pics!!

Old man Price, who starts wearing reading glasses from all the damage to his retna. He's kinda insecure about it, but when he sees how clear your blush is when he wears them?

He will just be between your thighs one night, breath way too hot, with those damn glasses still on because,

"I need to see you Love. Can't do that without 'em."

And he does, he wants to look at every shudder, and the way your lips try to hold those particularly embarrassing moans becuase fuck is Price good at sucking your sould out of your dick.

<3 <3 <3 <3

slasher!ghoap x gn!reader

first writing thing of my own, so uh! thats cool i guess yk. I think i'm happy with it? probably gonna be more than one part, i haven't decided. and i feel like i've seen other ghost and soap slasher stuff but i cant for the life of me find it. wrote this after finding a c.ai bot, the idea is not fully mine and i don't want to take full credit for it--however the writing itself is all mine :)

slasher!ghoap x gn!reader

CW: stalking, kidnapping, murder (dont do those things), no y/n only "you", while this is written for gn i wrote it in mind to lean more masc, first thing ever writing for tumblr so i'm not 100% on how to fit in here, bear with me

Thinking about Simon “Ghost” Riley and John “Soap” MacTavish being a bit crazy, a bit more fucked up than they already are. And yet so in love with each other, it was perfect, wasn't it?

About how they both retired early from the military, tired of the constant gun fire and the wear on their body’s. A man could only take so much. They move in with each other. A nice house, a backyard, basement, good sized kitchen, two bedrooms, one and a half bath. A nice house out in the countryside, away from other people but still close enough to the town.

About how maybe, one night, they see you at a bar. One you shouldn’t have been at, not that they had any idea. Or maybe they saw you at a simple coffee shop, and you didn't notice either of them as they sat in the back. Or maybe they saw you with your friends, hanging out at a nearby park on a nice day.

About how it didn't take long for both of them – without each other knowing – to start stalking you. Finding you online didn't take much time. Nor did tracking down your car, or your friend's car.

About how Simon “Ghost” Riley had your face memorized and the way you walked. How you just managed to mess up at simple things, like how you weren’t great at parking (not that he was much better), or how you bought the wrong type of milk at the store by accident. Didn’t you know how much you hated skim milk?

About how John “Soap” MacTavish had found your old instagram account, and the back up one. How he had been the first one to find your entire family tree, your old pets, your old house. How he had found what you looked like in second grade, missing your front teeth because you had ridden your bike into a parked car. Wasn’t it common knowledge?

About how they both justify what they're doing. If it was on the internet, it was free rein. And finding where you lived was just a… slight overstep… into your personal life, more than needed. No harm, no foul.

Thinking about how they bring you up to each other. A simple movie night turned to; how did you know about them? But it was resolved quickly, even faster when they both realized they both had some type of sick obsession over you. But how could they not? You're just so perfect, so nice to others. They just need you in their life.

About how they scout out your parents house, the one you're staying at right now, for a few, long weeks. They had happened to overhear your plans to invite friends over because you didn't want to stay alone in the house. A gut feeling, weird vibe, you called it.

About how a plan was put together. They wanted to have some fun with you, wanted to scare you, wanted to make sure you’d listen well. About how they waited until two in the morning for all of you and your friends to be either high or tipsy. Waited until you, alone, left the group for the bathroom. Of course they had the house layout memorized, they had been there a handful of times to grab a shirt of yours, a pair of boxers from your drawers when nobody was home. They wouldn't go in this blind now would they?

About how you had slowly walked out of the bathroom when you had noticed how quiet the house had gotten. The movie was on in the background, but something was off. How they had heard you check if the water-heater closet door was still locked, same with the garage. How they heard you make a small huh sound after you did that. About how you did the best quiet footsteps to see what your friends were up to.

About how you froze, standing still as could be when you saw they were all laying there, asleep. The faint glow from the TV didn't light the room up that well. How when you took a picture with the flash on, trying to get a picture of them looking dumb.

About how the room lit up, only for a few seconds because of the flash and you could see the pooled blood around their body’s. How you covered your mouth with your hand, the picture still on your phone, lighting up your face. Turning on the balls of your feet to run out of the house was the only smart idea – at least to you. But in the moment, did you think about how you already checked the garage was locked? 

About how John “Soap” MacTavish was waiting in the garage for you, waiting for you to run past. Humans were oh-so foolish, simple minded, and easy to plan for. How he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you up and slapped a hand to your mouth, only for the behemoth Simon “Ghost” Riley to walk into the garage right behind you. No matter where you would have gone, they would have caught you.

About how Simon “Ghost” Riley took your phone, saying you won't be needing that, his accent and deep voice sending shivers down your spine as tears welled up in your eyes. How John “Soap” MacTavish handed you over to Simon “Ghost” Riley while you bit, kicked, screamed, tried anything to get out of their iron-like grip.

Careful now bunny, stay still, the scotsman whisperer, pulling his arm back before he landed a good punch to your temple, knocking you out.

a/n: constructive criticism is welcomed <3

Why didn't you say anything?

Poly TF 141 x sex-demon reader (male intended but has depictions of fem):

A|n: Based on this writer's amazing work and this artist's au. And now this is very long.... I can't just write porn can I? Of well.

Prt:2 is done <3 》》》》》

Be warned I use more Catholic or deamon depiction of our succubus(male) reader, so please expect some body horror esk depictions. Also, the 141 are all in a polycule in this story.

CW: NSFW halfway through after the line break, sex addiction or dependence depicted for reader, threats to health, kind of eating disorder esk, talk of threats/acts of noncon and dubcon to reader (not focused on), polyamory, some talk of religion, why is this so long? And angst??? Ok....

Thinking about being a demon who became the 141's spy. The blood of the damned that ran through you, making you that much more dangerous and that much better at your job.

You fell under the deadly sin of lust, but it's been so many decades that you can't quite remember how you came to be. Maybe reincarnation, maybe you were summoned. It doesn't matter anymore, but it still hindered your intake into the military. You were practically a veteran by the time Price picks you up and drags you into his team.

None of the 141 had ever worked with anyone demonic for an extended amount of time. There had been the call ins and times when they picked up failed missions, but none of them ever really worked with a demon.

Ghost, as a wraith, was the closest any of them had gotten to working with anyone similar to you.

You started out as someone they called to scope out information before a particularly threatening mission. You were just the help, the one they called when they needed a spy. Until they leaned about how every other task force would drop you within a month of calling you thiers.

Price had worried that it was something to do with you or your attitude towards teamwork when he had taken you in, made you one of his men.

That was before he noticed this kind of cycle you would go through. Just when a mission would start, you would pull back. You would separate from everyone, not cold turkey, yet you just wouldn't be present. The training room was one person short, or their would be one less person here on the quieter afternoons he didn't even know this team had.

It was after the missions that you would be more than present again.

You were there again when Soap wanted to run his lycanthopic body to exhaustion just so he could feel just a little more human with the pains it brought. When he was hyper, feeling like he needed to move, you were there to shove him. Drag him into a game of tag or chase or anything to help him move. Soap has never been good at sitting still.

When Gaz needed to be called from the purch he picked to preen his damp or irritated feathers on that was away from the busy noise of the base. Or when his Avian blood told him to take to the sky, you were happy to be taken for a flight or watch him loop around, watch him stretch his wings, across the star splattered skies.

And there you were outside with the nocturnal Ghost, saying you didn't need the sleep most nights and got bored. Even when his form would flicker, tendrils of shadows lashing around his open skin, something that made most run. You stayed with him, hummed a tune you can't remember the origin of, in a language probably only those as old as you would remember.

When Price was struck with phantom pain, when he would feel this pang on his wing only to realize it was from the one that didn't exist anymore. You were there with him. Happy to share a cigar with the smoke that smoldered was neither from his drag nor you. There to sit and fill in paperwork long into the night shift, to just exist around Price when the team was still settling in, or licking wounds.

In the more common areas where Soap would annoy Gaz into another game of cards. You were there to keep the peace.

It had taken Price longer than he was willing to admit to know what was going on. It wasn't some manipulative, carrot and stick, trick no. And it almost seemed like you hadn't consciously been doing it. Before it clicked.

You were a demon, a succubus, to be specific. You fed off of the emotion or the intent of sex.

And you only got that when you needed to get someone to talk. You only lean into it when it's needed for a mission.

He honestly felt stupid, like a leader that failed, but he was quick to right that failure. It wasn't like this team didn't run off and blow off steam together or that they left soap to struggle through his heat alone, nor did they leave Gaz to sit and brood alone. None of that.

And if you were a part of his team, this team, then you can't be starved. Can't be left to weaken, to crave, no. Price wouldn't stand it.

So he talked to the team. Told them his theory, his plan to fix it, and when the team had gotten over the hurt of leaving you alone and weak. They jumped at the opportunity.

Starting small.

Being more openly affectionate around you, never quiet reaching out but still letting the emotions linger.

Those play fights that Ghost would tap out of suddenly just kept going, and those thick visceral emotions none could quiet place the origin of; would hang so heavy in the air you could practically catch it between your teeth.

Those days Gaz would pull back, preen his wings alone; became fewer and far between. Now, the nearest team mate had a lap full of fluffled up wings and pleading eyes. And could Gaz use those honey coated eyes of his to glance up through his lashes and beg.

The quiet chuckles and this ever so pleased emotion would wind around Price's incisors, a satisfied thrill of the dragon flooding a palpable semblance of the satisfied job.

Price started talking about to the team, and they started trying to be more connected, more present, with you so you could have that nourishment. And if that meant that private room doors were left ever so lightly ajar during late nights spent with each other. No one mentioned it.

Soap was the first to notice the actual change.

Your eyes would flicker, puplis vibrating softly before it was shut down, and you would disappear. Or you would actually pull back. He was also the first to tell Price. And thier leader waisted no time.

"You good there, lutenent?" His voice calls softly into your quarters.

"All good Cap."

"Not so sure about that one soldier." Price presses on, taking a step further in to push the door more closed, "You don't play well with this team?"

"No, I have no qualms with any of you. Sorry if it seemed so."

"Ya do always talk so proper like you know?"

"Apologies, old habits."

Price steps closer, easily taking the space offered my your open thighs. Letting that simmering feeling flush his skin.

"Maybe we should start making new ones. What do you say, Sugar?"

His hand hovered just over your throat, careful to keep you feel safe. Price of all people knows what a demon can do when cornered, and it wasn't like he wanted you to feel put off.

He sees what Soap saw, just as his palm cups the edge of your jaw, your pupils flicker. Body dropping almost leaning agaisnt him.

"Why didn't you say something, Suguar?"

"Not of my use in this team."

"You don't need to be useful to eat." He sounded almost angry, calming all the more when you do lean into him, "you never need to earn a meal. Just ask. We all want to help."

That night, he let you ride him.

Laid back against your bed, held your weight by your thighs, and let you set the pace. Even if he was so hard it hurt, or if your dark lion-esk tail would flick across the sensitive inside of his thigh. Or when he's come twice and is practically drooling before he notice just how much more like your kin you look.

He doesn't stop you from flicking a forked tongue over the overwhelmed tears, he only noticed the change at the hitch of your breath when Price tangles his scared hands in your hair. Accidently tracing the curving rams horns that has twisted around your more pointed ears.

Singing your praise, even as you tried and failed to explain that you don't matter in this, just his pleasure.

He shut that down real quick.

Yeah I’ll drink to that

Possessiveness doesn’t always have to be a rough touch to show ownership. It can be light and subtle as ever; a hand on the lower back, a lax arm around the waist, being so familiar with their body like being familiar with their coffee order - splash of milk no sugar- fingers resting just below the spot where you know their birth marks, scars or tattoos lay, gently brushing over clothed skin carefully avoiding the spots where you know they’re ticklish and watching the way they lean into your embrace with a smile on their face.

Possessiveness doesn’t always have to be crashing your lips onto theirs in front of someone who is trying to flirt with them. It can be an indirect kiss- taking a drag from their cigarette, and tasting the sickly sweet lip balm they always wear on the tobacco stick - the cigarette smoothly shifting from their fingers onto yours like this little habit of yours had been ingrained into their bones, or drinking from their drinks - specifically from the one a stranger had bought for them, the sudden appearance of your hand onto their beer glass barley phasing them as they continue on with the conversation they are having with the stranger- your lips resting just on the place where theirs have been, spots still wet from when they had taken a sip, while flashing a smile at the strangers over the rim , you and the strangers now both aware that you’re the only who knows how those lips feel.

Possessiveness doesn’t always have to be growling “mine” into their ear. It can be something simple as causally mentioning their name in conversations with family and friends, so much so even strangers know them through the stories you’ve told them, maybe even adding a little my in front of their name, not so much in a possessive tone but rather with a certain familiarity and fondness when talking about the socks they tend to leave scattered around the apartment or using the endearment when talking to your significant other, looking at their glittery eyes and big smile as you hand them a gift they’ve wanted for a long time, because of course you know what to get for your love, right?

PSA: Tumblr/Wordpress is preparing to start selling our user data to Midjourney and OpenAI.

you have to MANUALLY opt out of it as well.

to opt out on desktop, click your blog ➡️ blog settings ➡️ scroll til you see visibility options and it’ll be the last option to toggle.

to opt out on mobile, click your blog ➡️ scroll then click visibility ➡️ toggle opt out option.

if you’ve already opted out of showing up in google searches, it’s preselected for you. if you don’t have the option available, update your app or close your browser/refresh a few times. important to note you also have to opt out for each blog you own separately, so if you’d like to prevent AI scraping your blog i’d really recommend taking the time to opt out. (source)

Sung Jiwoo childhoodfriend to lovers with male reader please ( he can be a hunter or normal human )

Sung jin woo my beloved

Till death do us part

Sung Jin woo x male reader

Summary: Reader has had feelings for Jin Woo since they were children, but hasn’t been able to confess in fear of losing him. What happens when during the Jeju raid, (Y/N) gets hit and thinks he will die, so he confesses to his childhood friend?

Requests open

there really arent that many solo leveling gifs

Reader is a mage who specializes in elemental magic but knows some healing spells, I’m not sure what rank but a high enough rank to go into dungeons with Jin woo.

This is set after the jeju island arc but before the recruitment arc

You had known Sung Jin Woo since the two of you were children. Since before the rifts between worlds appeared, and long before either of you became hunters. Your family had moved in on the same floor as his, and you just so happened to be neighbors. When your parents went to introduce themselves, did they learn that the neighbor had a son your age.

The Sung Jin Woo you met was small and scrawny, and almost pathetic to look at. His appearance and meek nature made you quite protective of him. It was when you started at the same school as he went too, did you learn that he was being picked on. You felt the protective fire burn in your chest, and charged at the bullies and chased them off. You’d do this every time someone picked on Jin Woo and would turn your nose up at the comments, they made at you.

It was then that some of your female classmates, who also picked on Jin Woo, started making insulting comments about you being married. That you were like a protective husband over their weak wife. You were sure they meant it in an insulting way, but little did they know that as the years went on you wished you could be his husband. You wished you could protect Jin Woo for the rest of your life, that you could bundle him up and hold him close, that maybe you could even kiss him.

Then the gates appeared, and Jin Woo´s dad disappeared, and soon after his mom entered eternal sleep. It was soon after the both of you learned you were what the world called Hunters. You hadn’t planned on entering the dungeons, but when Jing Woo ran off to become a hunter to pay for bills, you followed. It seemed your protective streak didn’t disappear.

Jin Woo became the worlds weakest hunter, or that’s what people called him. You thought he was strong, the strongest person you had ever met. He just kept going and going, never slowing down because he wanted to support his family. You started saving money as well, slipping them into Jin Woos wallet when he wasn’t looking.

During these raids Jin Woo became very close to the healer Lee Joohee, who would heal him every time he got hurt. It made jealously bubble in your chest, so scorching hot and acidic it felt like you were gonna throw up. So, being a mage, you decided to learn healing spells. You weren’t meant to heal, you were an elementalist, but for Jin Woo, you would learn it. And you did, they were in no way as strong as Joohee, but they were good enough that Jin Woo didn’t have to go to her after every raid.

But of course, you got hurt during a raid and couldn’t go with Jin Woo. And it was during this raid he got hurt, some claiming he died. You stayed with him every day in the hospital until he woke up, and cried when he woke up. He started working out every day, but you didn’t question it and followed along, working out with him.

It was after a while he told you about his leveling abilities. It warmed your heart that he trusted you so much as to tell you. You promised to keep it a secret and not tell anyone. After this he would disappear for longer periods of time, out grinding his levels. You were happy for him of course, now he didn’t have to get hurt every raid, but you didn’t spend much time together.

You bit it down, and kept doing what you were doing before. Going on raids and saving all the money you could for Jin Woo. It went on like this, Jin Woo being busy and you working tooth and nail. Maybe part of you hoped you would gain an ability like his too, so you could level up together and maybe spend more time with each other.

It was during this time the hunters in multiple countries planned to attack the jeju island gate. Shorty after Jin Woo was announced as an S rank. You were proud, but maybe you also felt kinda lost since you couldn’t protect him anymore. Maybe it was because of this you were so dead set on helping during the raid. Sure, you weren’t allowed onto the island itself, but you could help from the outside.

Maybe it was because of these feelings you got distracted, and didn’t realize the ant monster coming up behind you and piercing your stomach. You didn’t realize the ant monster get slashed in two as you collapsed to the ground, blood filling your mouth as you coughed, clutching at your stomach. You didn’t know what was happening until Jin Woo was above you, his face the only thing you could focus on as your vision blurred.

You felt like you were gonna die, and you couldn’t let yourself die without telling him how you felt. You choked out your confession, tears gathering in your eyes and blood pouring from the edges of your mouth. You swore you could see Jin Woo cry, but that couldn’t be right. He´d become so emotionless and cold after he gained his leveling abilities. There was no way he would cry for someone like you.

In your state of blood loss, you choked out your deepest desires. How you wanted to be with him, marry him, take care of him. Your vision was fading, and you didn’t even realize he had forced a liquid down your throat before you passed out.

You thought you were dead. It felt like floating in an endless darkness, no pain, no feelings that weighed down on you like a ton. But then you woke up. Above you were a ceiling, of a hospital, you were sure. But there was no pain in your stomach, like it hadn’t just been pierced.

“(Y/N)” a voice spoke up, wobbly like the person was trying not to cry. You turned your head to the side, where Jin Woo was sitting on a hospital chair, clutching your hand you realized. His eyes were red from crying, and his nose looked like he had been blowing it for a long time. He looked so much like little Sung Jin Woo who you used to protect.

“You’re okay” He choked out, shakily getting to his feet like he couldn’t believe it. That’s when it hit you, that you had confessed. You felt your eyes widen as fear gripped your heart, you tried to stutter something out as you forced yourself to sit up. Your entire body felt sluggish like you had been asleep for a long time. A blush spread on your face as you tried to make up an excuse.

You couldn’t force yourself to look at him, and when you felt his hand on your shoulder you wanted the world to swallow you whole. “(Y/N)… please look at me” he softly said, his hand on your shoulder clenching slightly like you were gonna disappear. With great effort, you did, slowly looking up to meet his eyes as the shame almost became unbearable.

Jin Woo looked like he was at a loss for words. He looked lost and confused like he couldn’t really explain what he was thinking. “I don’t… I don’t know how to say this… let me just… let me show you” he murmured, his eyes glued on the sheets of the bed you were in. Before you could ask what, he meant, he surged forward and placed his lips on yours.

You froze, eyebrows shooting up and hands freezing in the air. You stayed still, and he must have thought you didn’t like it as he started to pull away. But before he could fully pull away, you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him close again, planting your lips back on his and shutting your eyes tight.

You felt like butterflies, fireworks and magic explosions were going off at the same time, as he snaked his arms around your torso and pulled you even closer to himself. You two stayed locked together for a long time, before he slowly pulled away. When you opened your eyes, he was looking at you with a softness and love you’d always wished he would, before he spoke up.

“I love you too. Ever since we were little. And whenever they would joke about us being married, I wished it would happen. I never said anything, because what if you didn’t like me back, but… now? Now that I know you feel the same? I want you to marry me” he choked out, seemingly filled with emotions he wasn’t used too.

“Men can’t marry in Korea Jin Woo” you chuckled, at a loss of words at his confession. He had liked you too, for so long? The whole time he felt the same? You could barely believe it, and you were half convinced you were in a coma and dreaming.

He scoffed, pulling you close again and looking into your eyes. There was a mischievous glint in them as he spoke. “I’m Koreas number 10 S-rank, and I just defeated the entire Jeju island gate myself, I’m sure they’ll let me marry whoever I want. Then we can be together, forever. Till death do us part”.