#But only one I'm sort of halfway able to

[punkrockisafulltimejob]

Is it an intestinal cramp, a period cramp, or a fibro cramp? Who knows? NOT ME!

[aidenwaites]

I started reading Shroud by Adrian tchaikovsky today. Man loves his spider-like aliens

[inbabylontheywept]

i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.

adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.

right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.

it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.

still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.

i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.

i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.

so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.

coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."

and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.

still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.

i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.

so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went

...oh.

and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.

so i did.

i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.

i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.

it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:

*ptooie.* "that all you got?"

i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!

but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.

my coach did not.

i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.

"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"

and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said

"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."

which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.

and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.

fine.

but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.

and then he left.

and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."

but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.

and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.

he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.

and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.

[maxinehufflepuffprincess]

Proud of them, Proud of you, Proud of us

Bangchan x Fem!Reader. 9th Memeber.

(Okay, so my first Stray Kids fic. My first time writing about real people. I'm nervous about this because I'm not sure if I did the boys justice or not. I just hope this story is enjoyable to read.)

Taglist. Masterlist. Progress Update. MamaBear Collection.

Summary: You tell Chan how proud you are of him and the boys. You both have a good cry.

You were finally able to have time alone as a group. There was no busy schedule. There was no dance practice or voices to be recorded. No, your schedules were clear for the weekend and the following week. And so, you and the boys had decided on getting away somewhere. You had all agreed to go to Jeju Island. So you rented a private house for the nine of you. Before even going, a ground rule was set, and it was simple: no working. This was the time to relax. It meant Chan couldn’t be glued to his laptop. If a new song was made by accident, then fine. But they couldn’t actively seek out work.

You were the second oldest of the group. The group ‘Mum’. Your SKZoo was a bear. As a play on the ‘Mama Bear’ image you had. It was a running joke both between the group and the fanbase. It was a role you just naturally fulfilled. You were happy being the Mom of the group. 

Three people will drive the cars there: Chan, Minho, and Changbin. It had been decided through rock, paper, scissors that Han and Seungmin would go with Minho, as they both chose scissors. Hyunjin and I.N. would be with Changbin as they picked paper. Leaving you and Felix, who had chosen rock with Chan. The car ride was nice. Felix was happily in the back, taking pictures of the view that whizzed past. The three of you had a nice sing-along. You even got a nice picture of Felix fast asleep in the back, halfway through the drive. 

Once the cars were parked, you had the keys, and everyone was out, you all decided to have a look around the house. Chan unlocked the door of the big house. It was pretty, very pretty. It was also private, away from everything else, which you were grateful for. There were four bedrooms. Two of the rooms had two twin beds, whereas the other two had one bed, one being a double and one being a king. 

The house seemed to have everything. A massive kitchen, a dining room, a pool, a nice big living room, and a beautiful view. There was a room downstairs with all sorts of fun activities, there was even a gym and a nice garden.

“So who’s pairing up?” Hyunjin asked as he sat on one of the kitchen island chairs. You had all entered the kitchen after you had finished looking around. Changbin grinned as he wrapped his arms around Hyunjin and squeezed him close. 

“I’ll pair up with you!” The shorter male spoke loudly, causing Hyunjin to cringe and cover an ear. 

You shook your head. “About we play some games?” You suggested. You opened your handbag, which you had been carrying around. Felix and Chan had named it your ‘Mary Poppins’ bag, since you seemed to have just about everything in there. You pulled out two straws. “Can someone find me some scissors, please?” You asked with a smile on your face. 

Leeknow had been the one to find them, passing them to you once he had exclaimed in excitement that he had beaten both Han and Chan in finding them. You thanked him before taking the scissors and cutting the straws into nine pieces. 

“Alright, first game is simple. Whichever two people have the shortest straws will pair up.” You held the straws in a closed fist and smiled. “Who’s first?” You asked curiously. 

Changbin was the first to move, carefully picking a straw only for it to be one of the short ones. The group laughed because how was he the first to pick and the first to get the short straw? Though Binnie seemed rather happy. One by one, the rest of the boys chose their straws. Leeknow, then Felix, then Han, then Chan, then Seungmin. As Seungmin stepped forward, he looked between the straws. He looked at you before looking at the straws. He picked one and held it up. It was the second short straw. 

Seungmin let out a groan as Binnie cheered and ran over to hug Seungmin. Seungmin dodged his hug for a moment before giving in to allow Changbin to hug him. The group all laughed. Hyunjin almost fell off his chair as he leaned to the side, clapping. 

“Alright. Seungmin, which room do you want, hun?” You asked him curiously, letting him be the one to choose which room he wanted. 

Seungmin thought for a moment. He decided on one of the bedrooms with two beds. The one on the left of the 2nd floor. Changbin pouted, having wanted the double bedroom, but he nodded, happy to be rooming with Seungmin. 

No one expected the room assignments to stay like this for the whole time you were here. It was more about where their stuff would be and where they would sleep that night. There was no doubt in your mind that everyone would have slept in everyone else’s rooms by the end of the holiday. 

The second game was rock, paper, scissors. The winner and the loser would room together. Hyunjin and Han were the winners of the first round, so the two played against each other. With Hyunjin winning. A few more rounds were played until it was just I.N. and Felix. Felix ended up losing with paper vs I.N.’s scissors. 

“Okay, Lixie baby. What room do you want?” You asked him curiously. The angelic-looking male grinned as he walked over to Hyunjin. You wanted as the two hugged. The two males shared a look, and Hyunjin slowly nodded with a pleased look on his face. 

Felix turned to you with a bright smile. “The double bed, please.” You nodded your head in agreement. “Double room it is then.” The two males high-fived.

Chan stepped forward. “Alright. The rest of us will close our eyes. Hold up either one or two fingers. Whoever has one will room together. Whoever has two will share a room. Whichever number has three people will get the King bed. Sound fair?” He asked as he looked between the three boys and you.

You nodded your head as did the others. You all closed your eyes and held out a hand. 

“One, two, three pick!” Changbin’s voice filled the room. 

Your eyes opened. You held up two fingers. As did Chan. Minho and Jisung had both chosen one. You all looked at I.N., who held up two fingers. You smiled lightly at the youngest member of the family.

“Innie, looks like you're with us, Sweetheart.” You spoke happily. 

“Ooo, baby’s sleeping with Mom and Dad!” Hyunjin teased with was followed by a yelp and a dramatic fall to the ground as I.N. pinched him. 

“Alright. Everyone, grab your things. Let’s unpack.”

—--------------

The holiday was going well. You had all been there since Friday, and it was now Wednesday. You had awoken with Felix’s head on your chest, snuggled up on your right. Chan was on your left. He was on his side, his arm around your waist. You had decided to stay in bed for a while as you slowly woke up. You were enjoying the quiet and the warmth. Your hand gently stroked through Felix’s hair. 

As expected, after the first night, most people switched rooms as they pleased. Sure, their things stayed in their assigned rooms, but the boys shared rooms as they pleased. So far, you and Chan had shared your bed with I.N. on the first night, Felix on the second night, Hyunjin on the third night, Changbin on the fourth night and Felix again last night. You enjoyed it. It gave you a chance to spend time with each of your boys. With I.N., he had wanted his space, but had also slept using your arm as a pillow. Changbin and Chan had caged you between their arms. You had sweetheart cradled with Chan, whilst Hyunjin hand spooned you from behind. And with Felix, both times, he had gone to sleep with his head on your chest, your fingers in his hair, with Chan’s arm around your waist.

Right now, Hyunjin and I.N. are in the kitchen making breakfast. Hyunjin had taken a picture of the three of you snuggled up, as payback for you getting a picture of him sleeping on top of Changbin after you all got back from the beach yesterday. That picture was now your contact photo for Changbin. As for the picture of you, Felix and Chan, that would be your new lock screen and your new contact photo for Chan.

Felix was the next one to wake up out the the three of you. You smiled down at him as you felt him snuggle closer to your body. 

“Morning, Angel.” Your voice was quiet and soft, not wanting to wake Chan. You were taking every chance to have Chan catch up on his sleep whilst you were all here. 

“Good morning.” Came Felix’s deep, husky voice from just waking up. He let out a small groan as he blinked himself awake. The two of you stayed lying there for around ten minutes before you let out a small sigh. 

“We should probably get up. Jinnie and Innie will be done with breakfast soon.” You explained. That caused Felix to let out a whine in protest. Because why would he want to leave the warmth of the bed? Where was he cuddling and having his hair played with?

“I don't want to.” 

“I know, Lixie, but we have to move at some point.” You told him with a small giggle in your voice.

You felt Chan snuggle closer to you. “He's right. Let's just stay like this for the rest of the day.” Since when had he woken up?

You gave in as Chan placed a kiss on the corner of your lips. You let the two hug you close for a while longer. Ten more minutes wouldn't hurt.

—--------------

Sitting at the table downstairs, you tucked into one of the pancakes that were made for breakfast. You were all discussing ideas of what to do today. Felix had suggested going to the beach again. I.N. had suggested you all have a look around town. Changbin suggested a hike. 

Jisung tapped a finger on the table. “Why not stay here? We could play in the pool? And we can use the room downstairs?” Downstairs was a massive room. It had a karaoke machine, a pool table, ping pong, darts, arcade games and more. It was enough to keep you all busy for the day.”

You nodded happily. “I like that. We can stay here today. Do our own thing. We'll have a karaoke session before we eat together, and have a movie night tonight after we've all eaten and changed. That way, we can end the night together before going to bed. Plus, it means those of you who want to get extra sleep time can.” You smiled brightly. 

Everyone nodded in agreement. Once breakfast was done, everyone broke off to do their thing. Binnie and Felix stayed behind to clean up as it was their turn. Hyunjin and Chan both went off to get some more sleep, though Chan let you with a kiss before going back to bed. Jisung and Minho immediately went to karaoke. I.N. followed them to check out the arcade games. Seungmin stood beside you for a moment before looking at you.

“Would it be okay if I roomed with you tonight?” He asked you curiously. 

You looked at him and smiled brightly. “Of course, Minnie. You're always welcome.” You ran your fingers through his hair. 

Seungmin smiled lightly at that. “Thanks.” He then turned and wandered off to find a good place for him to sit and read. 

You turned and went upstairs. You planned to spend some time swimming, so you changed into your swimming costume. Felix and Changbin joined you once they had finished cleaning up. 

The day was relaxed, happy and calm. It was a feeling you all had desperately needed.

—--------------

You stood in the kitchen washing up. It was your turn to wash up. Leeknow, Han and Seungmin had done a great job cooking an amazing meal. And so you stood in front of the sink, rubber gloves on. Your phone was on the counter, playing your usual chore playlist. Which was just a bunch of songs the boys had done. Some songs they had made, some were covers. But when you were washing up, cleaning, doing laundry or anything of the sort, something about hearing the boys singing put your mind at ease. 

Currently playing was Seungmin’s cover of Love Poem. It was a song that always hit your emotions. That made tears fill your eyes. It was a song that made you think back and not because of the song itself, but because of Seungmin’s voice. 

That was how Chan found you. Stood in the kitchen, tears in your eyes as you swayed to Seungmin’s voice, cleaning a plate. Chan walked over to you and placed a kiss on your temple. He then grabbed a teatowel and picked up one of the plates to dry it. 

“You cry every time you listen to this.” He said to you with a small smile.  

You nodded your head. “Hmm, you should be used to seeing me like this, then.” as you finished cleaning the plate and moved onto the next one. 

“Yeah. Just like how I shouldn’t be surprised by the way you do, that little hip sway when Jinnie’s cover of ‘Psycho’ comes on.” He told you as he began drying the next plate.

You looked up at him in confusion. “What hip sway?” You asked him in confusion. 

Chan chuckled. “You seriously haven’t noticed? Next, you’ll be telling me you didn’t notice you only tend to listen to ‘Red Lights’ whilst doing laundry. Or how you change which part you sing every time you listen to ‘Taste’. Or how you always need a hug after ‘Waiting for Us’. Oh, wait, plus you tend to listen to ‘Muddy Water’ when you're making coffee or tea. Either just for you or everyone.” Chan bumped his hip against yours as he looked at you. He raised an eyebrow. 

You let out a small laugh. “You really notice all that stuff?” You had only realised just how right he was after he had pointed it out to you. 

“Of course. It’s you. It’s how I also know you only listen to this song when you're feeling nostalgic or when you're in your feelings.” Damn. Chan knew you way too well. Then again, you knew him just as well as he knew you. “Talk to me. Please.” He placed the plate in the cupboard before facing you. The towel was still in his hand.

You picked up a dish and began to wash it. “I’m just proud of them all. Earlier, when we were all downstairs singing karaoke. Han hit a high note, and it took my breath away. He’s grown so much, not just as a rapper but as a singer as well. He’s so impressive. I love that we’re showcasing everything he can do. I love watching him work when he's in producer mode, too. Especially when it's a song he's passionate about.” You started with a soft giggle. Chan nodded along, showing you he was listening to you. That made you smile. You adored Han. He always made you laugh. He was sweet and always seemed to find a way to get you to share your food with him. He was always up for a good cuddle session and had no issue using your lap as a pillow when he needed a nap.

“Then hearing that duet that Seungmin and Innie did. Seungmin is such a menace, but his vocals were so angelic, and those riffs he did? He was goofing around, and he still sounded like something we’d put on an album. It’s amazing just how emotional it is to listen to him sing. You can always feel what he’s singing about. There's a reason he's our lead vocalist. I just wish he weren't so hard on himself. I’m proud of him. I’m proud of all of them.” Your eyes began to tear up a little as you handed Chan the dish and watched as he began to dry it. Seungmin teased you a lot for being the ‘mom’ of the group. But it was all in good fun. He knew he could come to you if he needed to talk, and he had many times. He also enjoyed being someone whom you could come to when you wanted to talk. He always gets a feeling of pride whenever he sees you cheering PuppyM on when he's dancing.

“Innie, he’s not a baby anymore. He’ll always be the youngest, but he’s proving his maturity. With every comeback, it’s like he’s levelled up or something. His voice his stronger and so beautiful. He’s improved so much with his dancing. I love that he acts like he hates us smothering him with our love, yet he still lets me be a pillow for him when he sleeps. He’s not ours, but sometimes it feels like in another life, he could have been.” Your voice cracked slightly as the emotions hit you. Jeongin was used to you treating him like he was your baby. Always making sure he was okay, fed, well-rested and giving his forehead kisses. You were sweet. You weren’t condescending, and you never took it too far, so he allowed it to happen. Because he knew the moment he asked, you’d back off. Because you respected him as a member of the family. 

You picked up another plate and looked up at Chan. He was smiling at you. A warm smile, encouraging you to continue. So you did. He reached out and wiped away the tear that had begun to fall.

“Felix’s confidence has grown. He’s such a sweetheart. He is really the personification of sunshine. I wish we could hear him sing more. And I love his deep voice, but I mean in his lighter voice because he sounds so different. But a good difference. He sounds heavenly and sweet. His deep voice makes him sound like he came straight from hell, and I love that duality. He’s such a good rapper, too. And when he dances? Breathtaking.” Felix has always been cuddly with you. He had no problem falling asleep on you or using his charm to convince you to get his own way. All he had to do was look at you with those pretty kitten eyes and a sweet smile, and you crumbled. He knew he had you wrapped around his finger. He could do no wrong in your eyes. Everyone was sure that your favourite ‘child’ was a tie between Felix and I.N.

You passed Chan the dish. He stepped closer to you. “Keep going. I like getting to know all of your thoughts.” He dried the dish as he slowly nodded to encourage you to keep taking. 

“Arlight. Who next?” You asked him curiously. 

Chan placed the now dry dish away as he thought over who was next. You had already spoken about the four youngest boys. The pride in your voice swelled his heart. The small voice cracked when you spoke about I.N. The smile on your face when you spoke of Felix was like a true mother. The way tears came to your eyes when you spoke about Seungmin and how you let out that adorable giggle of yours when you went on about Han. It made his stomach fill with butterflies. He loved how much you loved the team. 

“Minho.” He said finally, after a few moments of silence. He held a hand out for the cup you were washing. He took it from you once you held it out to you. He began to dry it, though his eyes locked on you. 

You nodded gently. “Mm, Minho. He’s a savage with a heart of gold. When he sings, he has such a warm voice. His dancing is phenomenal. It’s like dancing is what he was born to do. I love watching him both come up with new dances and teach. He pays attention to the details. He works us hard, and at the same time, he’s willing to slow things down when we need extra help. He’s such a wild card. I love the random stuff he comes out with. And I don’t hate the ass grabbing.” That made Chan laugh.

“You always welcomed the boys touching you. Weather it be Leeknow smacking your ass, Seungmin playing with your hands, Hyunjin playing with your hair or Felix hugging you.” He was right. Around the boys, your guard was down, and you felt comfortable. So you never really minded when Innie used your lap as a pillow, or when Changbin would pick you up, or when Chan would leave kisses on your cheeks, or when Jisung would sit on you. You welcomed it all. The boys were good at telling when you needed space, so they were good at backing off when needed. They enjoyed making sure you felt loved, because that was how you made them feel.

—--------------

Chan always felt loved when you took his health seriously. Especially when it came to sleep. He always felt appreciated whenever he showed you what he was working on. He loved watching you stick up for the boys. He always felt at home when he was with you. When he had you in his arms after a long day.

Leeknow never missed how you made sure he was fed. Whilst he was busy making sure everyone else was fed, you were there making sure he was eating too. He had fun cooking with you. He enjoyed that you were a safe spot for him. Sure, you teased him, but not constantly. You were someone he could rely on, even if it’s just for a moment, whilst he let his walls down.

Changbin liked it when you worked out with him. Even if you didn’t like the gym, you still went sometimes. Sometimes he’d rope you into working out with him. Sometimes he was happy with having you as his personal cheerleader on the side, watching and encouraging him.

Hyunjin loved how honest you are. He can spill his inner thoughts to you, and you share your opinion. He always shows you his art. He still remembers when he gifted you a painting of himself and the rest of the boys’ hands. Each holding something related to you. Your favourite flowers, your SKZoo, something relating to your hobby. You had put it above your desk, so whenever you walked into your room, it was the first thing you saw. And that made Hyunjin swell with pride. 

Han was someone who sought comfort from you. For many reasons. You were a good listener. You were always ready for a hug, and you always let him yap about whatever was on his mind. You laughed at his jokes. He liked that you would wake him up gently whenever it was his turn to produce or record his lines after he had fallen asleep. You didn’t rush him.

Felix always seemed to be touching you in some way. Holding hands, linking pinkies, hugging. You let him hold onto you for as long as he wanted without complaint. You held him when he cried. He enjoyed it whenever you baked with him. He loved the feeling of you playing with his hair. He enjoyed it when you fussed over him. It made him feel taken care of.

Seungmin enjoyed how the banter between you flowed. He liked that he could talk to you about whatever was on his mind. However, he also liked that you came to him when you needed to get something off your chest as well. He knew he got away with more than he technically should. Whenever he cheated at a game, you'd just laugh and applaud his creativity.

I.N. secretly adored it when you doted on him. When you fixed his outfit before going on stage. How you always made sure the boys gave him his space when he needed it. He enjoyed the forehead kisses; they always left him blushing. He always got a boost of pride whenever he saw that proud look on your face whenever he sang. He often says his proudest moment was when he had you cry during a concert after he finished ‘Maknae on Top.’ 

—--------------

“Hyunjin, gosh, I swear he has to be related to Aphrodite in some way. There is no way he isn’t. But he's also so much more than his looks. He's gorgeous, but the way he dances… It's like water. I don't know if that makes sense, but when he dances, you can't help but just watch. He's so expressive when he dances, too. Vocals and rap are both amazing. He's breathtaking. His art, oh my god. He has true talent there. And to think, I have a Hwang Hyunjin original piece in my room right now.” Chan reaches out and wipes away the tears that had fallen. He chuckled at how excited your voice got when you spoke of the painting. You gave him an appreciative smile. 

Hyunjin enjoyed playing with your hair. He liked stroking it, brushing it, and trying new hairstyles on you. He loved helping you pick what colour to go. He appreciated late-night conversations with you and how you took an interest in his art. He always appreciates it when you force him to take breaks and don't let him push himself too hard when he's fussing over dance. He's happy he can be dramatic with you, that you'll play into it.

You let out a soft, happy sigh. “Changbin is rap. It’s like a second language to him. His voice is like thunder. Booming, loud and commanding. Yet, it can be soft at times. I love his laugh. I'm proud of his transformation in the gym. Have you seen his arms? He's such a softy. His competitive side is both hilarious and terrifying, and I love that for him. Seeing him in producer mode is always a treat. He takes it seriously, but he always jokes around too. He always gives good feedback.” 

Changbin was someone who made sure you knew how to defend yourself. You can handle yourself, he knew that, and he was proud of that. He was always someone who could get you to smile. Whilst you were busy being a pillow for everyone else, he was more than happy to be a pillow for you when you needed a nap. He'll play into your ‘mother’ role, joking how you should have ‘stopped having kids after having him. It would have been quieter.’

—--------------

You finished cleaning the last thing and handed it to Chan to dry. As he dries it, you pull out the sink plug and take off the rubber gloves. You set them to the side. You turn to Chan, who's wiping away his own tears.

“I'm proud of you as well, you know.” You can feel the tears bubbling up again. You stepped towards him and gently took the towel from him. You set it to the side and took his hands in yours. 

“I'm so proud of you, Chris. You hand-picked us for this. You work late every night to make sure the music is perfect. I don't know which version of you I love more. The songwriter, the producer, the perfectionist, the singer, the rapper, the dancer, the playful side, the leader, the father, the boyfriend. Either way, you're amazing. You're funny, you're sweet. If anything is wrong with our boys, you way that it is upon yourself to fix it. I'm happy that you're finally getting some sleep. The bed feels less lonely these days, and I appreciate you putting in the effort. I really do. I like watching you direct Innie when he's recording his lines. You're able to easily explain things to him. You take on the weight of the world, and I'm proud of you for holding on this long.” Tears were falling freely now. 

Chan pulled you into his arms. He cupped your cheeks and gently kissed your lips before cradling your head to his chest as he buried his face in your hair. The two of you are crying into each other.

“I'm proud of them, I'm proud of you. I'm proud of us.” You let out a soft sob after you spoke. Because you were. You were so incredibly proud of each one of the boys. Proud of their talents, proud of the men they were becoming, proud of their strength. 

Chan squeezed you gently. “We're proud of you as well. You take care of those boys like they're your own, and you don't have to do that. I appreciate how you look after me as well. You make sure I don't burn myself out. You know, your voice is magical, and when you dance, the room stops to watch. We're proud of you as well, Sweetheart. We always will be.” 

The sobs started again, tears freely falling. The two of you stayed like that for a while. Just the two of you in the kitchen, hugging and crying into each other. He had one arm around your waist and one hand stroking your hair. You clutched his shirt in your hands like it was your lifeline. The kitchen door often stood the other members of the group. 

You and Chan pulled away slightly; he left an arm around your waist, and you still clung to his shirt with one hand. The two of you looked at the boys. You weren't sure if they had just arrived or if they had heard the two of you talking. 

You opened your free arm, inviting the boys to join the hug. Felix was the first to move. He practically ran into your free arms, snuggling close. Then Han moved, hugging your back. Then the rest moved. So the nine of you stood there, hugging each other close, soaking in the moment. Maybe they had heard what you had said. Maybe they didn't, but right now they were all enjoying the cuddle pile in the middle of the kitchen. 

You all stayed there for around five minutes before Seungmin pulled away. 

“Can we start movie night now?” He asked curiously. 

That pulled out a laugh. 

“Yeah, we can start movie night now.”

—--------------

Everything Taglist: Thank you for supporting me. @thecheshireprincess @potato-vagina @spanish-delulu-23 @deliciousmagazinequeen @myblovedjyh @alex--awesome--22

[joeloverture]

hook 'em horny | j.m. x f!reader

masterlist : coach!joel masterlist pairing: college football coach!joel miller x reader summary: [no outbreak] seeking petty revenge on your cheating quarterback ex-boyfriend leads you somewhere you shouldn't be — and then it lands you over the knee of his coach. warnings: (18+ mdni, don't make me say it again.) cheating done by a referenced oc, briefest mention of drugs, porn barely garnished with plot, age gap (22/52), smut, unprotected piv sex, creampie, vaginal fingering, potentially dubcon by way of power imbalance but consent is enthusiastic, daddy kink, sir kink, 'punishment' spanking, degradation, praise, brat tamer!joel, dom!joel, joel spits on her ass but otherwise no butt stuff, mild choking, body writing, so many pet names of so many varieties, aftercare, surprisingly fluffy [no use of y/n] word count: 6.4k a/n: this is a crazy idea to have considering joel can hardly handle ellie. i don't think he'd be able to handle ~118 college-aged boys. however, the idea of football coach! joel is hot to me (i mean, seriously, look at those sluts on the sidelines) so i made it happen. on a serious note, i am so sorry to the unnamed university this is based on. i toured you. i'm legacy. but... joel miller. let's make it clear this is for entertainment purposes only. this is a fictional work about fictional people that does not reflect the school itself, which is a fine institution whose head coaches historically do not fuck students in the locker rooms. shoutout to my dad who, unknowing what this information would be used for, explained to me how he snuck into this stadium 3x. don't do that, either.

You can’t even remember the last time you made a good decision.

Your track record definitely isn’t the cleanest: you chose to go to school in Texas, and then chose to stay there for four years. Choosing to go to that frat party in late junior year wasn’t your brightest moment, either, evidenced by the resulting hangover from hell and, predictably, frat flu. All things considered, those choices pale in comparison to hooking up with their all-star quarterback, Lucas Scott.

Dirty-blonde, blue-eyed, muscled Lucas Scott. He’s the sort of guy who looks like an eight when you’re looking at him after a few shots of tequila and a four when you’re sober. The sort of guy who, after over a year of dating, makes you split the bill halfway after ordering the more expensive entree. Crowned as the most efficient, precise, and instinctive quarterback the Longhorns have ever had. Apparently that instinct hadn’t been enough to drive him away from dipping his wick in every sorority girl’s candle wax. 

No matter how much post-orgasm Lucas panted into his ear that he loved you, you weren’t stupid enough to trick yourself into believing it. Staying with him was the easier choice, not yet wanting to reduce yourself to locker room talk. Walking in on him sloppily fucking some redhead nursing major was the breaking point. When it became less about you and more about your dignity.

So, yeah, you’ve never been one for making good decisions, and you certainly aren’t about to start now.

You thought breaking into the stadium would be some sort of monumental task. Trespassing here was normally reserved for campus rooftops and after-hours exploration, but once you’d gotten this batshit crazy idea in your head, you knew it wasn’t going to shake until you at least proved it couldn’t be done.

The open garage at the back of the building doesn’t help to deter you. It’s like there’s a welcome-mat outside saying, ‘Come on in and get what you deserve!’.

Who would you be to decline such a sincere invitation?

The garage is empty apart from some cushy golf carts, and the steel door behind them couldn’t be more tempting. If it’s locked, you tell yourself, you’ll go back to the dorm and forget about your incident of near-trespassing. 

You take small steps to the door, testing the handle. It springs right open, and all thoughts of leaving dissipate from your mind.

Who leaves the garage open and forgets to lock the door? Probably people with just as little between their ears (and legs) as Lucas. You scoff in half-disbelief, half-luck as you close the door behind you.

The energy feels stagnant this late at night, no announcer on the loudspeaker or swarms of burnt orange hats and T-shirts standing shoulder-to-shoulder. Industrial lights flicker above, their hums loud enough to make you wonder if you have tinnitus. Concrete lines the hallways, interrupted by a few silver-painted pipes arranged in a labyrinth up against the walls. A few security cameras are pointed at you. Before going any further, you pause to raise the hood of your Longhorns sweatshirt.

Even if you should be, you aren’t in much of a rush; you amble about, really taking in the sterile ambiance of the empty stadium. You turn a few corners, going in what feels like the right direction. You figure you’re getting closer when you spot what looks like it could be a security tower. Crouching behind a trash can, you wait it out, trying to peer through the untinted windows to figure out if there’s anyone in there at all. When you’ve determined it’s unmanned and let out a shallow exhale, you go back up to full posture and keep wandering around unsupervised.

You know you’re in the right place when you find your toes hovering over a red line painted on the oil-stained concrete: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT. 

Bingo.

Crossing that line without really thinking about it, you stick to your (so far) tried and true method of going wherever feels the most promising until you’re standing in front of the two black doors you were looking for. The door’s handle is an obnoxiously large longhorn, and you quite literally have to hook ‘em to get inside.

You’re starting to understand where the rest of the university’s funding is going when you walk into the locker room. After dating Lucas for a year, you know the football team is full of itself, but the Longhorniness of it all is… excessive. There’s the silhouette of the logo glowing on the goddamn ceiling, and if the jerseys the players are wearing on their digital nameplates isn’t enough of an indicator of who they play for, every backlit locker has a drawer with, you guessed it: a longhorn painted at the center. A brown vinyl couch wraps around the front of the room in direct view of a powered down videoboard that you can only assume replays highlight reels.

You roll your eyes. Again, your track record with decision-making isn’t the best, because you chose a school who puts every penny towards sweaty frat boys with brain damage from the amount of concussions they get.

And then you see it: a sign tacked onto the middle aisle of lockers that reads CORE VALUES. From top to bottom, HONESTY, TREAT WOMEN WITH RESPECT, NO DRUGS, NO STEALING, and NO WEAPONS. You have to physically clamp your jaw shut to restrict your laughter at the second one.

It doesn’t take you long to find what you’re looking for. Lucas Scott, #10.

His sweat-stained jersey hangs limply from the rack, and you eagerly tear it off, tossing it down onto the floor. Eager like a child ready to color outside the lines of a coloring book, you kneel down in front of it, pulling out the one thing you had prepared for tonight. A bold black Sharpie.

You pop the cap with your teeth, spitting it out somewhere on the floor as you start scribbling. Disguising your handwriting isn’t intentional, but you’re writing so carelessly and on such a foreign material that it comes naturally. Your tongue sticks out of the corner of your mouth as you work. In a year and a half, you’d never felt such satisfaction about — and certainly not from  — Lucas.

TWO PUMP CHUMP along the side. FIVE INCHES FULL MAST on the other. CHEATER at the bottom. WHORE across the front.

A throat clears behind you. You drop the Sharpie, a blot of ink forming on the mesh. You startle backwards, scooting until your back hits that stupid longhorn drawer. You’re expecting a janitor, maybe a security guard if you’re extra unlucky. 

That isn’t the worst of your options, apparently, because when you look up, it’s at Joel fucking Miller, head coach of the longhorn’s football team.

Your lower lip starts trembling, and that moment is when you decide maybe you need to start making good decisions. You’ve heard enough about Joel from Lucas to know he’s a total hardass. He could drag you by the ear to the dean and have you kicked out at the tail end of your second to last semester in this hellhole.

He glares down at you with his head cocked, hazel eyes far darker than they ever seem on TV. His scruff stipples his hardened jawline, lips thinned out like the worry lines pressed onto his forehead. If you were interested in digging yourself any deeper, you might stall to think about how good he looks: the faint trail of chest hair vanishing down into the neckline of his longhorns polo shirt, his fitted khakis, broad leather belt slung around his waist, and the slight bulge of tummy above it. You swallow hard and kick yourself for it.

“What exactly,” Coach Miller drawls, voice syrupy and sticky. “do ya think you’re doin’?”

Your mouth moves, but no words come out. He doesn’t seem very amused, his muscled arms crossing over his wide torso.

Joel shakes his head. “Ain’t a good look for you, hun, scrawlin’ that chicken scratch all over my QB’s jersey. Could get a real ugly charge for that.”

Heart crashing into your ribcage, you bite down on your lip. “I can pay the damages,” you blurt out.

He sizes you up all over again, eyes dragging up and down your body. They linger on your chest for a few extra seconds that you’re convinced that you just made up. “Can you, sugar? ‘Cause to me, looks like you’re the type to be chasin’ tips at whatever joint hires you.”

You don’t have the bandwidth to be as offended as you should be, especially because he’s right. You settle for glowering at him instead. A huff of laughter pinches out of him. “You give everyone you vandalize that blue look? Or is that lil’ number jus’ because you found out Lucas really ain’t that loyal?” With ease, Joel bulldozes over whatever thinning resolve you have remaining. 

“What’s that sign over there say? ‘Treat women with respect’?” You say. Joel’s backlit like all of those over budgeted lockers behind him. You squint your eyes. “You know that’s fucking bullshit. So what if I give him a taste of his own medicine when he’s been a minute man for every girl with a pulse on this campus?” You cap your Sharpie and clip it back onto your collar and get to your feet. So much for good decisions. “Fuck right off with that.”

“Hey, hey. Down, hun.” Joel holds his hands out to you, and you notice just how heavily you’ve been breathing, just how close you are to him. “Never said you were wrong. Kid’s a fuck up in all sorts ‘a ways. But I don’t like how you’re mouthin’ off at me, Miss Priss. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re in dire need of a spankin’ to set you right.”

Your breath cuts short and your cunt bottoms out without your permission. You don’t need a mirror to know your eyes just went glassy, your lips parted as your mouth goes desert dry. As discreetly as you can manage, you squeeze your thighs together.

Joel doesn’t miss it. You can tell from the moment his brows raise and his eyes sparkle, the corner of his mouth picking up a smidge. “Oh, yeah? That do somethin’ for ya, hun? Nasty little girl.” There’s a dangerous, uneven grit to his voice that has arousal burning like a candle in your stomach, the wax of your arousal syrupy against your thighs already. 

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. Fuck.

“No,” you breathe out stubbornly, but you’ve already given yourself away, even to yourself. The insides of your thighs are molten, twitching with every throb of your clit between your legs. That flush of warmth from your pelvis is spreading, overheating.

Joel tuts. “You really think that? You can whine all you want ‘bout wantin’ respect, but at the end ‘a the day, you just wanna be treated like some whore, huh?” And, yeah, he has you figured out, has you in the palm of his hand. Even though you have no idea what someone like him could do to someone like you, you want him to do it. You want to find out. “I’ll tell ya what, sugar, you walk outta here right now and nobody but me’s gonna know you came pitchin’ a hissy fit in my locker room.”

You frown at that, a small arc of your pouty lips that has Joel’s eyes gleaming.

“Or,” he says. “You can pull those wet fuckin’ panties down – don’t gimme that look, I know they are – and I can give ya a real lesson in respect.” He shrugs, hands going to his waist as he looks you up and down.

He knows he has you the same way you know, but you aren’t just going to give in that easily. You flare your nose and counter, “If there’s nothing keeping me here other than a firm hand, why should I stay?”

He’s looking at you like he wants to take you apart. His fingers jump against his hips for the opportunity to break you down. 

“Sweetness,” Joel shakes his head as if it’s obvious. “if you let me, I could make you feel good. I’m guessin’ you got some vibrator sittin’ in the back of your desk drawer to use when your roommate’s out ‘n about, but you don’t wanna use that tonight, do ya? You want the real thing, hun, and I’d give it to ya real nice once I teach ya to behave.”

There it is again: Coach Joel Miller has you all figured out. Every syllable he says is doomed to send another shiver up your spine, and damn it, fuck playing coy.

You’re too busy tearing off your hoodie to think about how unsexily dressed you are, but the rushed nature of your actions punches a chuckle out of Joel. “Eager thing.” You’re halfway through kicking your shoes and leggings off when he saunters over to the couch, plopping down on the edge and patting his broad, khaki-covered thigh. Your mouth waters when you look back and see just how much the fabric strains against his leg. “Whenever you’re ready, hun.”

You waddle over to him, stripped down to the basics of your sports bra and everyday panties. It’s the furthest thing from erotic, but the way he’s looking at you isn’t. It’s primal and ravenous, enough to have you forgetting all about how you’d even gotten there in the first place. He licks his lips as he trails his eyes all over you, darkening a couple of shades when he looks at your cleavage. “Lucas is a fuckin’ idiot, baby.”

“Knew that already,” you mumble.

He pats his thigh again, bounces his leg. “C’mon, over my knee like the good girl I know you can be. Hurry up and I’ll only give ya five.”

You shuffle forward, relishing in the rubbing of your thighs that comes from it. He’s sitting on the corner of the couch at the perfect angle for you to rest your head on the arm. It doesn’t take any more convincing for you to put yourself over his lap, not that he needed to do much in the first place. You feel so much smaller than him. Your ass is up for him to do whatever he’d like to; it’s a tantalizing feeling you hadn’t gotten out of any intimacy – if you could call it that �� with Lucas.

“Mmmmmm,” Joel groans as he runs a hand between your legs. He rubs at your slit through the soaked gusset of your panties. You can’t stop the way your hips buck, or the pitiful shout that jumps off your lips when he pins you down by the small of your back, robbing you of any friction. Between one arousal-riddled breath and the next, Joel tugs your panties off and flings them to the side. You know how it feels, tacky and cold on your core and thighs, so you can only imagine how it must look. Joel gives you a pretty good idea when he reveres, “Goddamn, pretty cunt is throbbin’ for it.”

He pulls apart your folds and you think you hear him lick his lips above you before he lets them go. The schlick noise your dripping pussy makes is nothing less than pornographic. Joel gropes you carefully, kneads the skin of your ass like you have all the time in the world. Under his ministrations, it’s easy to melt into the couch, forgetting why you’re there in the first place until his palm cracks down on your ass cheek.

The stinging impact has a slurred hnnnngh leaving your lips, and a fresh gush of wetness between your legs to accompany it. You keep your head tucked into the sanctuary of your folded arms, eyes squeezed shut so tight you swear you’re seeing stars. Joel’s quick to rub the spanked patch of skin, his palm soothing his ache. “That’s one, baby.” You nod into your arms. “Think you can take four more?” Another nod.

“I need to hear ya, hun. C’mon, head up f’me.” He taps the side of your cheek, and you prop your cheek up on your forearm. “Think you can take four more?” he repeats.

Your voice hitches, courtesy of the beating that echoes in your chest and between your legs. “Y-yes…” 

When the second hit lands, you don’t expect it. You flinch away from his hand when it comes down with a clap that leaves you squirming in his lap. “Yes, what?”

“Yes sir,” you whine out, back arching. Although a punishment, that spank has the same effect as the last: a live wire of arousal strung from your spine to your cunt.

“Takin’ it well,” he praises, squeezing your ass cheeks together. “Sure didn’t expect anyone to come crawlin’ in when I left that garage open, ‘specially not some slut like you with an ass that needs a spankin’ six ways to Sunday.” Just as quick as he can build you up, he can take you down a notch, but you can’t mind when it has you moaning all the same. “Oh, she likes that,” Joel clicks.

He rubs your ass again, and you’re bracing yourself for that next strike, pulled stiff with an arousing, anticipatory sort of fear. Only when you convince yourself it isn’t coming do you let all of that tension flood out of your body — and that’s when Joel smacks his hand across your far-too-trustworthy ass.

You cry out, pouting over your shoulder at Joel, who has a proud smirk drawn all over his face. You don’t even feel your hips rocking down, seeking whatever pleasure you can get until he reprimands, “Ruttin’ against my fuckin’ leg, now, huh? Don’t pretend you don’t like this.”

With a particularly good grind of your hips, you feel his bulge pressing into your thigh. From a mere graze alone, you can tell it’s huge. A whimper tears out of you at the same time he groans above you. “You got nothin’ to prove, ain’t gonna change the fact you’re a slut who needs to get spanked ‘n stuffed to talk ‘er into behavin’ a bit.”

“Can’t even follow your own rules,” you huff, apparently still interested in shooting yourself in the foot even when Coach Miller has you ass-up over his knee. 

“Don’t see how you care…” Joel slides a hand down between your legs. He rubs at your clit, an intense pressure that has you wanting more and less all at the same time, before dragging a thick finger across your opening. Arousal squelches between your legs and your hips jump – a dead giveaway to just how turned on you are, whether you like it or not. “when it gets you this turned on,” he finishes. Then that same finger is prodding at your mouth, glistening with your wetness. You whimper before tasting yourself, sucking obediently on his finger until he pulls away with a pop.

You sulk, “Don’t act like I can’t feel you ripping a hole in your jeans, Miller–”

The fourth spank is the hardest by far. The skin of your ass feels bitten by Joel’s ‘firm hand’. It’s the kind of hit that makes your legs kick in his lap and your fingers clutch in the couch’s arm for purchase. You wail, “Daddy!” Pain disappears from your mind when you realize what exactly you just said, quickly replaced by the churning coolant of embarrassment. If you were paying attention to anything else other than the shame suddenly inhabiting your chest, you might’ve been able to feel the twitch of his cock in his pants.

“Daddy, huh?” Joel hums, rubbing your hurt ass with one hand while the other strokes your shoulder. You bury your face back in your arms as an apology takes shape in the back of your throat. “Lucas your daddy, too?”

“No!” You squeak, adjusting in his lap. The hood of your clit catches on the rough material of Joel’s pants. Unable to stop yourself, you hump his knee again, shallow rolls of your hips. You can still feel his hardness against you. Needily, you tip your head up, panting as foggy pleasure hangs over your head. 

“Stop makin’ a mess of daddy’s dress pants, baby, unless you wanna be on your knees, lickin’ it up.” You keen, and he chuckles knowingly. “Shoulda known, little whore like you gets off on that.” 

Joel gives you a longer reprieve between the fourth and fifth spank. Instead, he strokes your ass and asks, “One more gonna be enough to set you straight, sweetheart?”

“Y..yes daddy,” you whimper. He hums in approval.

You shift back and forth, waiting for it to come — and when it does, it’s softer. It’s by no means a love pat, but it pales in comparison to his previous work. You still sniffle, squeezing your thighs together as he coos, “I know, I know. Poor baby, actin’ all high ‘n mighty. Can’t be on her high horse when she’s over Daddy’s knee.” Gentle, he pats your ass and guides you on all fours at the edge of the couch. He hums in approval. “See? Not throwin’ a hissy fit anymore. She’s all nice ‘n obedient when you get ‘er to act right.”

Joel spreads your pussy with his thumbs, and you hear the vulgar noise of him collecting his saliva before you feel his spit landing on your clenching hole. You’ve never felt so empty, not when your bottom drawer vibrator is buzzing against your core, definitely not when Lucas fucks you in the same old missionary. Whimpering for him, you arch your back to try to rub against his crotch.

“Quit your whinin’,” he snips, his thumb finding your clit in one swipe. Joel’s touch is firm, but not too firm, just enough to make your hips push down with a need only he’s ever made you feel. 

Without warning, his middle finger slides inside of you, thick and calloused and so, so right. “Fuckin’... tight.” Another slides in as he starts scissoring you open, apparently satisfied enough when he crooks his fingers deep in your cunt. Instantly, he catches that spongy spot that you can never reach on your own. You nearly crumple with the sensation, limbs going weak and buckling. “That the spot?” he asks, but he already knows.

“Mhm,” you moan, chin instinctively tucking against your chest as if you can get away from the pleasure he’s giving you, as if you’d ever want to.

Then — he stops.

His fingers sit heavy inside of you, so close to where you need them to go. “What the fuck, Joel?” 

"Baby, s’that how you get what you want?” He rubs your thigh with his free hand and gives it a quick swat. “Help daddy out, tight girl. I'm not just gonna let you get away with bein’ a spoiled brat. Work yourself on my fingers."

You’re putty in the palm of his hand – malleable, docile for him to treat or mistreat you however gets him hard. You whine, punching your hips back nonetheless. Grinding down, down, down, your cunt unresisting when he gives you another finger. It’s crude, the way you moan for him.

Even though he’s hardly doing anything, just the hand you’re getting yourself off on, that all-consuming strain in your body only gets stronger. “Daddy – close, please…”

 “Attagirl, atta-fuckin’-girl, give it to me.” He rewards you with a press of his fingers against that golden spot inside of you. Your orgasm splinters through you, an ecstasy-charged mist fanning over your body. Your release runs down Joel’s hand and your thighs with every clench of your cunt, like you’ve been skinned and set ablaze by your own desire. You fall forward on the couch, no longer able to hold yourself up, arms a tangled mess as you gasp into the cushion. “You come so pretty, baby. Messy pussy, too. Soaked me up to my goddamn elbow.”

You’re still reeling from the best orgasm you’ve had in months, maybe ever, when you hear obscene slurping noises from behind you. You cast a look at him, your arousal returning with a vigor at the sight of Joel sucking his fingers clean. He groans at the taste, and you swear you see his cock jump in his khakis. Stomach warped with desire, you’re about to plummet off of the very dangerous edge of doing just about anything for him right now.

“Please fuck me, daddy,” you plead, and in any other position, with any other person, it might be mortifying, something worth clutching your pearls over. But this is Coach Joel Miller, the last person you ever expected to be fucking, giving you the best fuck you never expected.

“There’s those manners,” Joel praises, leaning over you to press a brief kiss to your shoulder blade. You can smell your release on his lips, a sweet smell that’s so distinctly you. He eases off of you, presumably to take off his pants. There’s the shuffling of fabric, and when he returns to your side, you’re disappointed to find he hasn’t even unbuckled his belt.

You pout at him again, still desperate to get your way. Eye-level with his bulge, you’re salivating over it. You had made a mess of his dress pants, a wet spot formed just above his knee, taunting you. You lick your lips. 

“Think it’s only fair,” he says, looming over you. He’s holding the Sharpie you’d brought along with you. Your brows furrow as you look up at him through your lashes. “If I give ya the same treatment you gave his jersey.” His gaze is cocky as he pops the cap with his thumb, giving the marker a twirl.

Oh.

It shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does. Nothing about this should turn you on as much as it does, yet here you are, in a puddle of your own sweat and cum, itching for the next thing he gives you. And if it’s marking up your body before he fucks your brains out, so be it.

He nudges his head, gesturing for you to get down on your stomach. You lift your knees up and flatten yourself out on the cushions. The vinyl sticks and pulls from your skin as you get where he wants you. A soft, surprised noise leaves you when he straddles your thighs, his clothed cock nudging at your seam.

“Holy fuck,” you breathe out, because it’s the only phrase you can think of that even holds a candle to what all of this has become. 

A laugh fans out from under his breath as he starts at your freshly spanked, raw ass. The Sharpie is cold and foreign, tugging at your skin as he inks you up. “Gotta make sure you match before I dick you down, don’t I? What is it you wrote on his jersey? ‘Whore’? Between the two ‘a ya, I woulda put my money on you for that one.”

If that wasn’t enough indication, you figure out what he’s doing by the time he gets to the right cheek, what feels like an ‘R’ taking shape across your ass. He finishes the ‘E’ and sets down the Sharpie for a moment, his meaty palms spreading your ass. It still thrums with the afterglow of his spanking. You don’t think you can throb any more than you already are, but then he spits on you for the second time that night, this time landing it on your puckered asshole. A gasp flutters from your lips as you grind down into the couch, his spit dripping down your folds.

“See? Real whorish, fuckin’ my couch.” He taps your ass for good measure. “Asshole makes a perfect fuckin’ ‘O’, baby. Looks a whole lot better than that chicken scratch shit you put on his jersey.” You think maybe, just maybe, he’ll dismount you and pull his cock out, but instead he keeps writing, scribbling on your back and upper thighs. Every pull of your skin under the bleeding ink has you aching for him.

When he’s content with his work, he lifts off of you, hands fumbling to undo his belt. It snaps apart, dangling open around his waist as his hands open up his khakis. “You let Lucas fuck that sweet lil’ cunt raw?” he asks.

“No, I don’t,” you admit, unable to tear your eyes away from his cock as he pulls it out, and fuck you. Your eyes don’t even feel big enough to take all of him in, and you have no idea how you’re going to fit him between your legs. You almost go cross-eyed at the sight of it, his head leaking precum.

“Thought so. You gonna let me fuck it raw?”

“Yes, daddy,” you breathe out, drool pooling in your mouth at the thought of having him inside of you, having him inside of you bare. Yet another thing you never gave to Lucas in a year of disappointing sex, but are eagerly giving up to Joel. 

“Gotta be a real nasty slut,” Joel says, returning to his place atop your thighs, his thick ones framing yours. Your breath hitches when you feel the weight of his cock gliding through your ass cheeks and down to your cunt. “to let your ex-boyfriend’s coach bareback ya in the locker room.” A heady gasp tears from you when the head of his cock bumps your clit. He teases you — his cock, slippery with a combination of your arousal, skating from your clit to your spasming opening, not quite nudging in.

“Daddy, please – I need it… need you to fuck me, fuck me–”

He doesn’t make you wait any longer.

When he pushes in, it knocks the air out of your lungs. The only proof that you’re still breathing is when you let out a pitchy, desperate moan. Joel grunts, teeth gritted as he flattens himself down against your spine so he can roll his hips into yours. The pain of his size becomes an afterthought just as quickly as the pain of your spanking, dwarfed by the pleasure he gives you just as easily. 

“Fuuuuck,” Joel groans, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and shoulder. Inch at a time, he works you open, grinding his hips into your opening. “Could you be any goddamn tighter?” He bites at your neck from behind with every rock of his hips into yours until he bottoms out.

“Big,” is all you manage to squeak out as he hauls you back on his cock, already prodding your g-spot with his head. Your eyes roll back as you clench around him. 

His fingers go up to run circles around your shoulder, soothing you, grounding you when his cock has you anything but. “Mmm, I know, I know. You can take it. All whores can.” With that, Joel starts fucking you, really fucking you, a punishing, relentless pace where he pulls out entirely before filling you to the brim. Each snap of his hips into yours fills the locker room with shameless sounds, the mere background to your depraved moans.

“Never had your pussy stretched by a man double your age before, huh?”

“N–no! Never… never had my pussy stretched mu…much at all–”

Joel slams into you, laughs at the strained noise that you make. “Yeah? Those dumbfucks on my team not doin’ it for ya, baby?” You don’t answer, don’t think he’s expecting one until his hand wraps around your front, forearm pressed firm against your tits. His thick hand wraps lightly around your neck, jostling you. It’s not hard enough to blur your vision, but just hard enough to remind you of the power he has over you. The power you allow him to have. It’s invigorating. Everything about him is. 

Moans spurt out of you as you fumble to answer, “No da– daddy! You — ah! — do it for m–me!” 

“And what do you say for that? For goin’ outta my way to show you what a real fuck is?”

“Thank you, Daddy!” you cry out. You’re spilling down his thighs, the wet suction of your pussy around his cock making noises more vulgar than you’ve ever heard in porn.

His hand squeezes again at your neck, and you feel floaty, a bubble just waiting to pop. Pleasure dances in every one of your veins, every nerve ending burning like a match that he keeps striking ablaze.

“There you go, desperate slut just needs a freshly spanked ass, a good dickin’ down, and a hand ‘round her throat to behave.” Joel’s pace stays just as harsh, crushing your g-spot with his cock. “Should keep you back here for when we lose, tie you to the goddamn desk. Let my staff take turns with you, see how much crybaby you have left in ya when a dozen men’s loads are drippin’ outta your reamed fuckin’ cunt. Bet you like it when men use you.” The whine that almost gags you on its way out is enough to confirm it.

If he keeps talking to you and the wind blows the right way on your clit, you know you’ll be coming. You’re wringing out his cock with every flutter of your pulsing pussy. The beginning embers of your orgasm turn into a wildfire when he wedges his free hand down between your legs, rubbing messy circles into your sloppy clit. “Fuck, please, please, please,” you sob out, too riddled with pleasure to care about how pathetic you sound or look as you hump his hand while he pounds you.

“Can feel you squeezin’ me, baby.” Joel rasps, nipping at your ear. The hand around your throat falls fully to your chest, pressing you solid against him so he can fuck deeper, deeper, deeper. It’s enough to make you scream, hands clawing and scratching down his muscular grip on you. “C’mon, hun, give it to me, come on my cock, fuck.”

With another thrust, he has you pushed right down onto his fingers, rubbing and flicking you every which way. It’s all you need to come undone, your second orgasm of the night unlatching through you like something forked and angry, battering your sore limbs until there’s nothing left of it or you. You’re a mess, spit oozing down your chin as you slur “thank you daddy” like a broken record, thighs clamping around nothing.

Joel groans as you clench around his cock and continues his relentless pace, hips slapping against yours. The hand he’d been using to rub your clit migrates to your tits, grazing and then thumbing and then tugging lightly your nipples. “There it is, told ya you could be a good girl. Lettin’ your daddy use this cunt to get off, lettin’ me use you. I’m fuckin’ close, baby, where do you want me?”

And you want it even if you shouldn’t, want his cum deep inside of you, want it to leak out into your panties as you walk back to your dorm. You’re still no good at making decisions, too fucked out to tell right from left when you beg, “I–inside, fuck, come inside me, daddy, please.”

Joel practically growls at that, thrusts losing their steadiness as his hips jump and he hurtles towards his release. “Yeah, you’re a goddamn whore, beggin’ for this cum. And you’re gonna fuckin’ take it, yeah… fuckin’ take it.” He slams all the way into you for the last time before shooting his cum into your cunt, swearing and moaning. Breathing like he’s run a mile, he goes slack on top of you, pets the back of your head while he comes down from the exhilaration of his high.

With a gentle kiss to your shoulder, he rises, and the fantasy is over. His cock slips from your pussy, and you feel hollow with the loss. This is where he tucks himself back into his pants, runs a hand back through his hair, tells you to never show your face in his stadium again, and shoves you out the door.

And he does: tucks his softening cock into his boxers, zips up his khakis, does his belt, tames his post-sex head of hair. You wince even if you expected it, leaning down over the edge of the couch to grab your hoodie, already moving to tug it over your head.

“What do you think you’re doin’?” Joel asks, and his tone sounds much more different than the first time he’d asked you. He sounds offended. You blink confusedly, dazedly at him with your arms halfway through the armholes. “Let me clean you up, hun.” Joel side-steps the pile of your leggings and shoes, adjusting the hoodie on your arms and pulling it down your torso. “I know Lucas ain’t done you right, but you deserve to be taken care of, pretty girl.” Your heart pinches in a way that it shouldn’t, not for a hookup with your ex-boyfriend’s coach.

You shift, and he can’t help but look back between your legs where his cum escapes your hole. He manages to pry his eyes away, but not without licking his lips first. “I’ll be right back, baby. Promise.”

When he’s back, it’s with a damp rag. He crouches down in front of you, taking it to the apex of your thighs and wiping away the combination of your releases, careful not to nudge your sensitive clit. He kisses your thigh gently before pulling back, folding the towel on the arm of the couch you’d been crying into just a few minutes ago.

Joel shimmies your ruined panties up your thighs, followed by your leggings. You let him, breath cut like a snipped wire from the sheer intimacy of it all, intimacy you’d lacked with Lucas even after a year of trying. You’d stayed with him for comfortability at your own expense. How stupid could you have been?

Joel pats your knee, eyes soft and weirdly sincere as he looks at you. “I’m sorry about Lucas, honey, but I meant it when I said you deserve to be taken care of.” He rubs the back of his neck before holding something out to you. A business card, his work number plastered in bold sans-serif font across the bottom. “I know this is in reverse ‘n all, but I’d really like to take you out and treat you right, if you’ll let me.”

Saying yes is your first good decision in a while.

[take-it-on-the-run]

Not A Lot, Just Forever

Dean Winchester x Pregnant!Reader

After throwing up morning after morning, the reader discovers her illness isn't what she initially thought.

Word Count: 4.1k

Tags: Pregnancy, unexpected pregnancy, brief description of motel bathrooms, vomiting (repeated), self-blame, mention of reader's mother dying in childbirth, mention of childbirth related deaths, anxiety, brief loss of consciousness, Dean is a sweetheart and will make a great father.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Pregnant!Reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel

@ghostlyaccurate requested: "Hii! I'm not sure if I already sent you this request, or if I sent it to someone else (oops🤭) but could I request a Sam Winchester and/or Dean Winchester x reader (your choice which one of them, if not both sepperately) where he helps reader deal with morning sickness, though he only finds out she's pregnant on the third day in a row that he's with her while she throws up. Ty!!"

Read it on AO3!

A/N: Adrianne Lenker title. I really really loved this request! I feel like writing the pregnancy trope is a sort of hard task to do, so I hope I brought it justice. I love love loved writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it! Thank you for the request @ghostlyaccurate, and I promise I'm trying my damnedest to work through my inbox <3. Every mistake here is completely and 100% my own and of my own doing. (P.S. can you guess how hard it was to find "aesthetic" pictures of a bathroom and pregnancy tests for the pictures for this fic?? I think the ones I found actually work pretty well! Another thing, what happened to the yellow text color? I use it to tag fluff fics, and it's gone :( ).

Dean Winchester Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist

Your head hung over the foul toilet bowl of whatever motel you, Dean, and Sam were holed up in, and a rancid smell invaded your nose. In earnest, you didn’t have the slightest idea where you were. The past couple of hours had been filled with a slight fever and the constant need to use Dean as a pillow. Halfway through the drive between towns, you convinced him to switch out driving with Sam so he could join you in the back seat.

The worn tile of the bathroom floor offered you minimal comfort, and the fact you’re supposed to be up for a case in two hours made your stomach churn over again. Ditching your normal avoidance of motel bathrooms, you gripped the edge of the toilet and emptied your stomach again.

“Y/N?” Dean’s groggy voice called out from behind the door, “Are you okay in there sweetheart?”

You squeezed your eyes together, cursing yourself for being loud enough to wake him up. Sneaking out from his arms was a feat enough already, trying to suppress the sound of you losing your guts at four in the morning wasn’t going to happen; even in a perfect world.

“No,” you groaned as he softly opened the door, “I feel like shit De, and you know how much I hate throwing up. And how much I hate motel bathrooms.” You whined. Your hair was falling to the front of your face and you were cursing whoever decided a bathroom didn’t need a working air vent.

Dean hummed softly, pulling the hair back from your face and holding it with one hand as he sat behind you on the floor. He pressed his lips to the back of your head softly, and gently traced shapes on your collarbone as you laid back on him.

“Just breathe, I’ve got you if you need to go at it again.” He said softly, cradling you in his lap as you tried to breathe. He ran his hand through your hair as your breathing started to hiccup less, and eventually, he sat you on the closed toilet lid to get you water.

You felt ashamed to be keeping him up at this hour. Your phone clock read 5:13 AM, almost an hour past when you’d originally gotten up. He already doesn’t get enough sleep as is, and here you are sitting, waiting for him to get back like you aren’t able to take care of yourself.

“Here you go, drink slowly. Did you use the mouthwash I gave you?” He asked as he handed you his water bottle. He stood across from you, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants. You nodded softly, gratefully gulping down the contents of the bottle.

The bags under his eyes were already enough to make you feel guilty. Hunters were used to running on minimal sleep, but with you around, he’d just gotten into the six-hour range. He rubbed his face, inhaling like he normally did when he was trying to make a decision. You didn’t want to go out for the case. You barely wanted to move your body to get back in bed and salvage what little sleep you could before life kicked you back into gear.

“Do you want to stay here while Sam and I talk to the family?” Dean asked as if he could read your mind.

I love you so damn much. You thought, bowing your head with a sigh of relief. You didn’t want to be the one to bring up staying in; neither of you ever wanted to admit you needed breaks, but if the other one was to bring it up, it made the process easier.

You nodded, pushing yourself to your feet as he opened the door for the two of you, “yeah, I think that’s best for all of us. Don’t need me puking in the victim’s bathroom as you guys ask your questions.” You tried to joke as you and Dean crawled back into bed, tucking yourself into his arms, and splaying your legs haphazardly on top of his.

The next morning wasn’t any better.

Sam and Dean had come home late from questioning the family, and you were barely aware of them unloading the Chinese food they brought for you. Dean sat with you against his chest, still half-dressed as an FBI agent, as you wolfed down the egg rolls he got. You found yourself starving when they offered you food, but now you regretted eating anything at all.

You found yourself hung over the toilet again, but thankfully only had to put up with one round of saying goodbye to your lunch. You were able to get yourself up and over to the sink, where you repeated Dean’s routine from the morning before.

You leaned against the counter in the small kitchen, Dean’s water bottle filled with tap water in your hand. You turned to dump the rest in the sink when the creak of a floorboard behind you had you spinning on your heel in record time.

“Jesus Christ, Dean. Why are you up?” You asked in a hushed tone, placing your hand over your racing chest.

“I could ask you the same thing,” He crossed the small room and came over to embrace you in his arms, “did you get sick again?” He asked innocently, but the combination of those words, and the pitiful shift of his eyes was enough to make you feel like a child. You were a grown woman, you knew damn well how to take care of yourself much before the Winchesters were in your life.

You huffed in annoyance, pulling back from Dean’s chest. You felt your face begin to heat up, and it felt like anything Dean could say had the chance to send you over the edge.

“Yes, I did. Right now, I feel like my body is too hot and too tight for my bones, and I also feel like anything you say is going to make me hit the roof. Even if it’s nice, I just don’t think my brain can take in any more words without wanting to jump ship.” You said you rubbed your temples. Things like this had happened occasionally in the past, and before Dean, you figured it was just because you were a rigid person. One night a particularly bad migraine had led to you yelling at him because he offered to get you some medicine. Instead of just leaving you to stew, like every other partner did, he simply asked you to explain what you were feeling. No judgment, no interruptions, and he’d do whatever you said would make you feel better in that moment.

Now, whenever you felt overwhelmed, he did the same. He’d swallow any sarcastic comment or solution to your problem and listen to you. No matter what was bothering you, at whatever hour of the day, he was at your side, doing what you asked of him without hesitation.

He just nodded, pressing his lips to your forehead before he led you back to the bed you two were sharing for the case. His body threw off heat like a bonfire, and your normally freezing hands were appreciative of that. In this moment, however, it felt like you were burning from the inside out.

You adjusted yourself between the sheet and the comforter, so the two of you could still touch without pressing your skin together. Dean waited for you to still before he made himself comfy, and he gently ran his fingers through the ends of your hair.

“Is this okay right now? Do you want me to leave you be?” He asked, in as soft of a voice as he could. You hummed, smiling at the tingling sensation running through you. Comfort, and a warmth that wasn’t burning to the touch, crawled up your back, and into your head. You tried to focus your eyes for a couple of seconds more, but without your control, they forcefully fluttered shut.

“Y/N.”

Sheet tangled between your limbs, and you could see the light through your closed eyes. Opening them, you find an unexpected sight. Instead of Dean, or Sam, standing at your bedside, the trench coat-clad angel you’d met five years ago stood awkwardly, waiting for you to fully wake up.

“Cas,” you rubbed your eyes as you sat up, “what are you doing here? Where’s Sam and Dean?” You asked.

Cas sighed and sat at the end of your bed. He shot you a quick look, before focusing his eyes on the blank wall in front of him. He tapped his fingers on his legs, a habit he picked up from Sam.

“Dean called me and told me you were sick. I came in, and told him I’d try and cure whatever… ailment is afflicting you.”

You smiled at the way he spoke, and the fact Dean went out of his way to try and help you out, but there was something off about Castiel’s demeanor. You sat up and touched his arm to get his attention.

“Cas, what’s wrong? Did something happen that I should know about?” You asked softly.

“I think you’re pregnant, Y/N.” He looked at you, and there was a rift of guilt lingering in his eyes.

A course of confusion and shock coursed through your body before you felt a rotting pit settle at the bottom of your stomach.

“Why would you… think that, Cas?” You felt a tightness taking over your throat, rubbing your hand across your neck to try and loosen it.

“I can sense life forms. Human ones, at least. It was hard to tell with Sam and Dean here, but once they left I was able to confirm my suspicions.”

Your hand traveled to your lower abdomen before your mouth spat out a request without thinking.

“Pregnancy tests. Can you get me some, please? I just,” you ran your hand across your forehead quickly, “I want to confirm, using non-magical means.”

Cas nodded, “of course. I’m going to assume you don’t want me to let Dean know?”

You nodded your head before swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Deep down, you knew Cas was right. You were late by a few days, but you’d chalked it up to the illness that’s kept you on the bench for this case. You didn’t usually react as poorly as you’ve been to an illness, even when you’d gotten a terrible case of Pneumonia.

Getting up from the bed, you walked into the bathroom as Castiel vanished to get you a couple tests. Looking to the mirror, you’re met with a form of you that was a little scary; purple, slightly-puffy eyes, smeared makeup that hadn’t been washed off from days before, and your skin was breaking out in places it hadn’t before.

Dean hadn’t said a word about it, but even someone as blissfully ignorant as him had to have noticed the way your face wasn’t looking like your own.

Dean.

You’d have to tell Dean you were pregnant, with his child. That you’re going to be parents.

What if he didn’t want to be a father at thirty-six?

Children weren’t one hundred percent out of the question, but they were longer down the line in hunters’ lives. If you were lucky enough to get out of the life unscathed and find someone who would want to settle down with, you’d likely be creeping into your mid-forties, at best. Mary had gotten lucky with John, but now they’d both been taken away by the thing they’d spent half of their marriage avoiding.

What if you weren’t ready to be a mother at thirty-five?

For you, it wasn’t the question of wanting to have kids, but you never saw you or your boyfriend backing out from hunting anytime soon. To add on, you’d heard of many nasty births that ended in fatality for the infant or the mother, including your own. Every time you and the boys were on a case involving a child, you’d be extra reckless. Dean picked this up within the first couple of times you’d almost gotten yourself killed to save a kid, and you explained your fear to him. The fear of a mother not being able to welcome her child home in her arms, or the child not seeing his mother again, and their fate lying in your hands. You’d already ripped apart your family, and you tried your damnedest to keep as many together as possible.

A ruffle of feathers and a sharp knock on the bathroom door snapped you out of your thoughts.

“You can come in, Cas.”

Wordlessly, the angel stepped into the small motel bathroom holding a plastic bag. He pulled out three different pregnancy tests and set them on the counter.

“The woman working there said I should get a couple just in case one doesn’t work like it should.” He said as you picked up the first test. “I’m telling the truth, but I understand you wanting to confirm this to yourself.”

I know Cas, you thought, but you didn’t say a word. Instead, you stared at him, waiting for him to leave the bathroom, but he had a blank look on his face and didn’t move a muscle.

“Cas, I’m going to need you to leave the bathroom for me to do this.”

“Oh, sorry. Of course. I forgot how ‘hands-on’ human tests can be. I apologize.” He said blatantly before stepping out of the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

Fuck me.

That’s what got you into this in the first place, dumb ass.

After twenty disgustingly long minutes in the decrepit motel bathroom, you walked out holding four positive tests. Cas was sitting on Sam’s bed, staring out the window, but immediately stood up and crossed the room to you. You handed him the tests, and he placed them on the table between the two beds.

“How do you feel?” He asked. Another thing he picked up from his years on earth was the ability to know when to ask what questions.

You felt blank. Void of answers and solutions to the situation at hand. Whether or not to turn left, or right.

“I… don’t know what to do, Cas.” Your voice broke along with the tears you were holding back, and a sinking feeling of hopelessness began to dig its way through your head.

Neither you nor Dean are ready to be parents. What if Dean’s angry? He would never kick you out of the bunker. The bunker is the only real home any of you have had in a long time, but is it safe? Is the world safe enough to bring a baby into? A Winchester baby, who would no doubt be a target from birth. What if the baby doesn’t make it to full term? What if this baby kills you like you killed your own mother?

“Y/N,” Cas placed his hand on your shoulder, “I’m going to ask you to take a breath.” He drew his hand up and waited for you to inhale. Taking in a shuddered breath, you followed the flow of his hand, stopping your heart from running up your throat.

“Thank you.” You said, sitting down on your bed and grabbing the pregnancy tests off the nightstand. Two pluses, two double lines. You and Dean were careful and used a condom whenever you found extra time together, but somehow God decided that rubber wasn’t going to work as intended.

“I think I’m going to just lay here,” you tuck yourself under the bed sheets once more, the tests shoved into your pajama pants, “and wait for Dean and Sam to get home. I’ll get him out of this stuffy ass room and tell him in private. Sam shouldn’t have to witness if we- if we argue. I know it makes him feel awful.”

“That’s a smart plan. You need to take this one step at a time and do it carefully. I know Dean cares for you deeply, but if you need someone to support you, all you have to do is call for me.” Cas squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.

“Thank you, Cas.” You yawned, pulling your body further under the covers of the bed. Castiel smiled slightly, before turning away and disappearing with a familiar rush of wings flapping.

Your body was covered head to toe in sweat, and the bed sheet you wrapped around yourself was thrown onto the floor. No light entered the room, and the time on the alarm clock read 1:43. Your stomach churned in a familiar way, and as you got to your feet you finally noticed neither of the boys were in the room.

You clambered to the bathroom, phone in hand, trying to call Dean. One hand braced on the toilet, and the other tried to thumb down to his contact. There wasn’t any time to think about the fact you were carrying a baby inside of you, the baby whose father is missing in the middle of the night with no calls or messages.

They always call. You thought before you set your ringing phone on the floor to throw up for the first time that morning. The phone rang, the sound slowly driving you insane each time you redialed Dean’s number between dry heaving into the bowl.

Your hair was sticking to your forehead, poorly swept away and held back by a rubber band you found on the sink. The heat, the pain, and the fear of losing contact with the Winchester brothers combined with the reality of you being pregnant was finally built up enough to break the swarm of emotions you barely choked down when Cas was in the room earlier.

Eyes burning, you slumped against the sink cabinet and brought your phone to your ear as you called Dean once again. You let out a sob, tears rushing down your face and neck, leaving behind a slightly burning trail. Your breathing became uneven, the sound of your own heart drumming through your ears drowning out the ring of your phone. Letting your phone slip to the floor, you brought your knees to your chest and folded your arms as a nest for your forehead.

Neither of the boys called within the twenty minutes you were in the bathroom, your phone was now close to being dead, and no muscle in your body wanted to obey your brain telling them to move and do something. You weren’t a weak woman, you took the cards you were dealt and tried your best to win, but sometimes all you could do was fold.

“Y/N? Y/N?”

A hand pulled your face from your knees, and you could barely see with the light of the bathroom now on and blinding you. A warm hand rested against your cheek while another briefly touched your forehead.

“Help me get her up, Sammy,” your eyes fluttered closed and you felt two arms hook under both your arms, laying them over shoulders as your feet lightly dragged across the floor.

“I’ve never seen her this bad, Dean.” The voice you now recognized as Sam said. Your legs were swept up from under you and you were laid on the bed you’d crawled out of.

You felt the tests still pressing in your pockets, and you thanked whatever greater being was willing to listen. There was no way you wanted to Dean to discover that information on accident.

Dean.

The other voice was Dean.

You moron, who else would it be?

The bed next to you dipped down, and you felt a gentle hand tuck a few stray hairs behind one of your ears. The sweat covering you was sucking every inch of clothing to your skin, and all you wanted to do was peel either of the pair off.

“I thought Cas was going to come here and help her out,” you heard his voice straining as he spoke, and you felt your heart snap in two.

You moved your hand, as heavy as it felt, and squeezed the first part of him you touched.

“Sweetheart,” you could feel Dean’s breath as he hovered over you, “you’re scaring me here.”

“Cas…” you gave out a heavy cough, “he came. He helped me figure out what’s been happening.”

A glass of water was brought to your mouth, and you took every drop of it. After swallowing the cup, your eyes finally were able to open. You were greeted by a worried Dean hovering very close to you, and a worried Sam crossing back from the kitchen holding Dean’s water bottle.

Sam set the bottle on the bedside table and sat on his bed, facing you and Dean. Dean’s attention was solely on you. His hands grabbed both sides of your face and brought his lips to your forehead, before resting against it.

“Hey,” you said, chuckling slightly, “I didn’t mean to scare you, De. You, or Sam.” You sat yourself up in bed.

“Did Cas tell you what’s wrong?” Sam asked, looking at you expectantly.

“He did, but… is it okay if I talk to Dean? Alone?” You asked softly.

Sam shot Dean a look, which Dean promptly returned with one that had Sam standing up, and walking into the hall.

Orange rays of light shone from the window of the room, and you could just barely see the sun climbing on the horizon. Dean moved to hold you in bed while you gained the composure to tell him you were both parents.

“Dean…” you breathed steadily, trying to even your heartbeat that was ramping up once more, “I have to tell you something-”

“I kinda gathered as much sweetheart,” he said lightly, lines forming around his forest-lorn eyes beautifully.

“- it’s important. I mean, it’s going to change our lives, for the rest of our lives.”

Dean’s face became more serious, pulling you to face him as he crossed his legs.

“You know you can tell me anything, Y/N.”

Do it, now. Just say-

“I’m pregnant.”

The air hung heavy around the pair of you as you handed him the tests in your pocket, and you could see the clocks turn in Dean’s mind as he stared down at them.

“But we used a rubber?” He said, and you could guess where his thoughts were wandering.

“We did, but you’re the only person I’ve been with for years, Dean, I need you to believe me when I say that.” You said reassuringly as you could without sounding like you were lying.

His face broke into a small smile, and he brought his thumb to trace over your lower cheek, “I know, sweetheart. I trust you with my heart, I just know not to use that brand anymore, seems like their effectiveness is questionable.”

You laughed, tears drying in your eyes as you pushed at him playfully, “Dean! You gave me a heart attack, you son of a bitch!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry okay!” He laughed, capturing you in a giant bear hug and rolling you on top of him. You looked down at him and brought your lips down to his.

“You’re going to be a father,” you said, beaming at him while smiling the hardest you’d ever in the longest time

“You’re going to be a mother,” he replied, smiling just as hard. Your face fell slightly, and the word mother finally kicked into your head. “Hey,” Dean said as he saw your face shift, somehow remembering the story you told him all those years ago, “Remember, we’ve got an angel on speed dial, and you know how hard it is to take out a Winchester.”

Your heart warmed at the statement, the baby inside of you was just as much L/N as it was Winchester. You loved Dean with your heart, as did he love you, and now the two of you were going to brace the dangerous world you’d spent years protecting with the amalgamation of that love.

You brought Dean’s hand to your stomach as he brought his other hand to your face. His calloused fingers were gentle on your skin, and small crinkles formed around his eyes as he smiled, holding his hand at your stomach as you gazed back at him.

A knock sounded at the door, making you turn your head around before you and Dean burst into laughter, and told Sam he could come back in the room to tell him the news.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

OH SHIT UH baizhu x monster reader because I've been thinking about him lately. maybe something dubcon-y? I love pathetic men whimpering and crying 🎃

Author's Note: My mind went places, y'all… very horny places. 💀

Pairings: Baizhu x male reader

Warnings: Male plant monster!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Baizhu, sort of gullible Baizhu, dubcon, handjob, facial, riding, aphrodisiac, mild dumbification

Why he had to run out of this particular herb was beyond him. As if that wasn't annoying enough, his suppliers were out of stock and wouldn't be able to ship him any more. The location of this herb has become increasingly dangerous, and no one could figure out why the men sent to gather these herbs came back… weird, to say the least. Nonetheless, Baizhu needed those herbs to treat his patients.

Was it a stupid idea to travel out there by himself and gather them by hand; yes, most certainly, and Changsheng told him as much, but a doctor's mind is a puzzling thing.

And that's how he ended up here; in the high mountains of Chenyu Vale. Normally, one would expect to run into a few monsters, at the very least, but Baizhu had yet to see a single one during his trek. There were plenty of other creatures, and the foliage didn't seem withered, so it's not as if this place was devoid of life nor on a biological decline—there was simply a lack of danger. Which is a strange occurrence, considering the reports he'd read…

That fact really should be comforting to the frail doctor, but in truth, it made a shiver run down his spine. His eyes nervously scanned over the immediate grassy grounds, hoping to catch a glimpse of the herb he so desperately needed — desperate enough to set foot on this mountain alone.

It took a bit more searching, but the herb in question was flourishing just around the back of one particular mountain. Baizhu carefully made his way towards the area, picking one herb and inspecting it to check its quality and that it was, in fact, the correct herb. Picking a few more, Baizhu comes across one plant that refuses to be plucked — an unusually tough herb, resisting his attempts to yank it out from the dirt.

As he goes to inspect the stem, a soft voice cries out; “U-um… excuse me? Could you help me…?” Looking over his shoulder, the doctor spots a person's head sticking up out of the ground—except their skin has a pale green hue to it, and as this person rises up, he notices how the ground around them shifts; as though the ground is a part of them.

Baizhu turns halfway, cautiously keeping an eye on you as he questions, “…What do you need help with?” The way your body flows effortlessly when you move—creating ripples in the immediate area around your torso—piques Baizhu's curiosity.

“O-oh! Um… it's a little embarrassing, if I'm being honest, sir…” you begin, “As you've probably guessed, I am not a human — think of me as a type of dendro spirit, I guess? Uh, anyways, there's this…ritual, of sorts, that only a human can help me with–”

The whole time you're explaining this predicament of yours, Baizhu keeps a watchful eye on you to make sure you're not tricking him. Even though you come across as rather sheepish.

“…I understand if you don't trust me, I just don't know what else to do…humans don't come around here too often, and the pain has become so much worse–”

“I'll help you.” He interjects. The sparkles in your eyes force him to hold back a chuckle as you thank him a million times over. “Please take me to this plant of yours.”

You excitedly take off, essentially a torso and head gliding halfway inside the ground, while this kind human with green hair trails just behind. Arriving at your destination, Baizhu kneels down, giving you a glance, and you return it nervously.

Baizhu eyes the plant inquisitively, staring at the odd shape and strange fleshy texture of the whole thing.

“Go on, doctor, I-I'm ready…” you prompt, giving the man a shy smile to mask your nerves.

With a quick breath to strengthen his resolve, the doctor raises his hands, wrapping them both around the plant and lightly squeezing it until a wet substance seeps out through the petals. “A-ah! aAh-” you gasp suddenly.

“I'm sorry—did that hurt?!”

You shake your head, nearly whimpering as you try to assure him, “N-no… just surprised me. Your hands… they're a bit cold…”

“My apologies, they should warm up soon enough. Shall we keep going?” Said like a true doctor. This stranger with kind eyes has been nothing but gentle with you so far, helping out a non-human creature whom he only met a few minutes ago, even if he finds your request a tad strange.

More wetness falls down his hands, pouring from the plant the more he squeezes and twists his hands around the elongated object. He experimentally moves his hands to other areas, and when Baizhu's thumbs rub and press on the tip of the plant, you're unable to hold back a sharp intake of air. Your eyes roll back momentarily, and you chomp down on your lower lip to conceal the noises threatening to escape.

The doctor eyes your pained expressions with worry written all over his face. “It's… fine — I'm fine. The pain… is not that bad… please, don't stop, doctor.”

As you wish, Baizhu milks more and more liquid from the plant, creating a pool of it underneath the stem of the plant—gradually creeping towards his knees and threatening to soak his pants. For the most part, it feels and looks like regular water, but there's a faint sensation of stickiness on his palms, close to the surface of the plant.

While this is supposed to be a medical procedure, Baizhu can't help feeling a bit… embarrassed by the whole situation. This plant of yours—it is a bit phallic. Not to mention how the method used to wring out the liquid is akin to… uh, a specific hand movement performed on phallic objects. The suggestive sounds coming from your mouth don't help that either. Baizhu can't ignore you when you moan out “Faster… faster, doctor- aah~ Keep stroking it like that… it's definitely woRKING-!”

The more Baizhu watches himself squeeze the glistening liquid from your plant, the deeper into a trance he falls — soon enough he's fallen so deep that he shamelessly jerks off the phallic plant until the tip opens up and explodes like a volcano; shooting thick, honey-like ropes all over Baizhu's pretty face.

The substance drips all down his features — clumping in strands of hair, clinging to his glasses, dripping from his nose and chin, and even a little sliding into his open mouth. “A-ah! Y-you… you did it… you made me release it all, doctor~” you comment — your words are the only thing penetrating that fuzzy mind of his right now. “Thank you soooo much~ But, could I trouble you with one more thing?” you lean forward, gently holding the doctor's chin so that he can't turn away from you. “Won't you help me again? It's the only way for me to feel all better.”

“Aah…? I don't… understand…” Baizhu breathes, confused and seemingly in a daze. It's such a precious sight to behold, really.

You reach out and slide a hand up and down the doctor's stomach, teasingly pushing his top up a few times before moving towards the edge of his pants. “You'll help me, won't you? You're such a kind doctor, after all~” you remind him. Baizhu's pants are quickly yanked down, removed the rest of the way by vines that the good doctor never noticed before…

With his sensitive areas laid bare for you to see, Baizhu gasps, frozen in place as your hands feel up his waist and thighs, pushing the latter apart so that you can inspect his body. Sliding two fingers towards his rear, you find that special hole humans have and tease around the rim of it. “Aha! There it is. I'm sorry to ask so much of you, but… I really need this right now.”

While he has no idea what you mean, the doctor senses something amiss within your words. Your fingers attempt to push inside of him, and Baizhu clumsily refuses. “I-I don't think… don't think that I can do that, young man… mm ooh~”

Impatiently, you lift him up and pull him towards you, hovering his hole right above the plant he'd previously milked. A little burst of liquid shoots from the tip, splashing against Baizhu's entrance, which startles him. The consistency of the liquid feels just like the substance it coated his face in earlier; thick, sticky, and warm.

While Baizhu's mind tries to resist, his body is doing quite the opposite, already lowering itself down until the tip of the plant is entering his ass. “A-AAH! Wait–!” he begs. But it's too little too late as your phallic plant penetrates him with ease, thanks to that honey-like fluid. The fleshy appendage pushes a wave of liquid inside his hole, and it creates a wet mess all over his ass, thighs, and the ground below as you begin to fuck him.

“Mm doctor… you feel incredible~ Hehe, look at that—this little guy is having fun too~” Baizhu blushes deeply, shaking his head while you watch his cock bounce every time your plant cock thrusts in.

“N-no… please, harder–! This is weird… aah~ so good~ ” the doctor grits his teeth, biting his lower lip as he grows frustrated by his own mouth betraying him. The cutest whimpers are the only sounds coming from his mouth as you continue your assault on his hole, thrusting your plant deeper and deeper. The amount of liquid gushing out of Baizhu's ass is ungodly now; sticky, squelchy, slick fluids that overflow with every thrust, filling his tummy until it hurts with how full it is.

“You're doing amazing, doctor! That terrible ache is almost gone, I j-just need to– guh!” you suddenly slam your hips into him, laughing as a pang of pleasure wracks your body and causes you to bury your cock in him. Your hands fly to his waist, and you bounce the human while he whimpers some more.

Tears begin to roll down Baizhu's cheeks, staining his glasses with a salty film as you release another round of that thick substance; this time inside the doctor's body. You pant wildly, mere inches from his face while your plant cock spreads open inside of his hole, releasing far too much liquid inside his belly.

[fabled-fiction]

✦ My Golden Guardian ✦

( Robert "Bob" Reynolds x Reader )

Summary: Bob has his first solo mission coming up. Leaving the whole team to wonder who is going to volunteer to join him to make sure things go smoothly. You’re avoiding the responsibility because you’re barely able to stay in the same room as him without short circuiting…but when Alexei figures out you have a crush on him he volunteers you to go on the mission with him…what could possibly go wrong.

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: UHHHH maybe spoilers for Thunderbolts* (it's set after though so not really). Description of gunshot wound - blood and blood loss. Use of (Y/N).

A/N: I'M A LITTLE RUSTY. But Thunderbolts* has slingshot me back to the Avengers tower fic 2012 era and I just needed to write for Bob…I love him too much. I have more planned for this - just know this is a warm up fic (ignore that its 6.5k words)…okay ENJOY.

You had a serious problem.

Scratch that - you had two serious problems.

The first one being your ever growing, debilitating crush on your teammate Bob.

The second one being a certain someone that was currently staring you right in the face.

“You like Bob!”

Framing your face with your hands, you let out a long sigh as you try and curl in on yourself. You’re only halfway successful, anymore and you would have fallen off your stool. And you really didn't want to give Alexei ammunition for this barrage of embarrassment.

“No…no you completely misheard me…” You groaned, leaning your head onto the cool island counter.

You could not believe that you had let it slip. You had been so careful. It was easy at first, when you first met it had been in an incinerator meant to kill all of you so your main priority was to live. Not to swoon over the cute puppy eyed guy who made your heart leap in your chest when he kept introducing himself and trying his best to be helpful despite obviously not really having a clue what was going on. There was no need to address whatever spark you had felt in those few seconds when you and the rest of the team were trying to make it out of the O.X.E facility…alive. But then he proceeded to - at least what it looked like at the time - sacrifice himself so you and Yelena, Ava, and Walker could get away.

How could you not fall for the guy?

“Ah Ah Ah! I have good ears, I heard correctly! You said you liked him too much to be given individual assignment with him.”

“I don't think that's what I said.”

“No, I quote directly.”

“Ahhh Im not -”

“No, yes that is exactly how you said. Verbatim.”

The both of you stared at each other, having a sort of battle of wills. You stared down Alexei with an ever growing blush creeping up from your neck to your cheeks whilst he stared directly back, a growing smile and similar blush of satisfaction rouging his cheeks. 

Taking a beat, you met his eye before feeling your shoulders fall. There was no point in denying it.

“Fine…yes I like Bob.”

“YES!! I KNEW IT!” He cheered as he shot his arms up into the air, a laugh erupting from him as he jumped around.

“Hey! Hey!! Can you keep it down!? I do not need the whole tower knowing.” You whisper yell, shaking your hands at him. 

“Oh yes! Yes yes…shhhhh. Quiet.” He put a finger on his lips as he smiled at you. 

There was a second where Alexei just stared at you smiling. He had this proud look on his face as he walked around the counter island and sat next to you. His hand came to rest on your back as he watched you stare off ahead, seemingly preparing for whatever he was going to say next.

“Why have you not confessed to him? You both would make such beautiful couple.”

This got a quick chuckle as you ran a hand over your face.

You wished it was that simple. You really did. Then the aching in your chest could finally be alleviated every time he walked into a room. You would actually be able to focus on whatever assignment you were given instead of focusing on what it would feel to be able to hold his hand.

By the gods you were down bad for Robert Reynolds.

“I-It's not that simple Alexei. I'd rather not ruin…the team dynamic.” You mutter, beginning to pick at the skin around your nails.

He hummed next to you and you knew he didn't believe one word you had said. You knew he could read into people more than he let on. You supposed that was part of his charm, part of his dynamic in this odd found family unit. There had been plenty of times you had seen him giving a dad-ly speech to whoever needed it at the moment. Right now just happened to be your turn.

“I think you are scared to confront what is in your heart.” He reached forward, resting his finger right above your heart. The moment was sincere…for only a second.

Clapping both hands onto your shoulder, he smiles as he stands.

“But I am not! I shall help you confess your undying love for Bob! A love like this should not be hidden.” 

A cold chill ran up your spine as you quickly stood, watching as he began his leave of the kitchen.

“No Alexei, that really isn't necessary!”

“It is no trouble! I will be best wingman! You’ll see! You won’t regret!”

“Won't regret what?”

Both of your heads whipped towards the entrance to the kitchen, seeing Walker standing there in his training gear. He had a towel wrapped around his neck, but no visible sweat to soak it up. Either he was headed there now or attempting to show off how not tired he was. You were not in the mood to decipher or feed into his ego right now.

Alexei coughed loudly, holding out his hands to you with a smile.

“Our dearest (Y/N) here has agreed to go on Bob’s first solo mission with him!”

Going still, you watch as Alexei gives you a big smile. Walker looks between the two of you before letting out a big sigh and swinging open the fridge door.

“Thank God! Honestly I didn’t think I would have the patience to deal with him.” He laughed as he proceeded to look between the two of you, taking a rather large bite of an apple as his gaze stayed on you.

“You’re up for the challenge right? Cause I don’t think anyone else is…”

With a roll of your eyes, you gave Alexei a quick glare. All he did in return was give you two thumbs up while patting Walker on the shoulder. The super soldier stumbled a little, choking on air as he branched himself on the counter.

“Of course they are! This will be walk in the park!”

──── ✦ ────

It should be criminal, requiring a mission briefing this early in the morning.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you stumbled towards the conference room with a huff. You weren’t entirely sure why Bucky felt it was necessary to meet so early. Maybe it was the soldier in him. You remember some off handed conversation from a while ago about it setting the day off on a good routine. Personally you were more than okay with starting the day off by sleeping in a little longer.

Pushing open the door, you sighed as you took a look around the room.

Since it was the meeting regarding Bob’s first mission, you knew most of the team would be there to discuss. It was a big step for him, and even if everyone didn't want to say it out right, they all wanted him to succeed.

Bucky and Yelena stood side by side going over the documents, no doubt plotting the best route for success. Ava was being Ava meaning she was doing her usual brooding in the corner going through what was no doubt her fourth cup of coffee. You couldn’t imagine how tired she was having to be up this early whilst simultaneously keeping her physical body in check.

Before you could see where the rest of the team had decided to perch up, Alexei was in front of you with a folder and a cup of coffee. You gave him a once over before slowly taking both.

If you had been more awake, you would have been able to see what was coming next.

“Good morning! How you sleep? Good? Great! Here, let me sit you down so you can be ready for mission brief.”

Putting a hand on your back, Alexei took your arm and led you over to a pulled out chair. You could tell he had used some of his super soldier strength to sit you down and push your chair in, you had to steady your arm to keep your cup from spilling.

Suddenly he was on the other side of you, one had on your shoulder as he looked back and forth from you and…someone else.

“You both should discuss mission! Would be good preparation.” 

When Alexei pulled back, with a very strong slap to your shoulder, you finally saw who was in the other chair.

Bob sat there, rubbing his shoulder with a wince. He looked just as awake as you, with his hair tousled and clothes still wrinkled from sleep. When Bob met your eye you watched as he swallowed and gave you a small wave. You felt your heart skip in your chest as he gave you a small dopey smile. 

“Goodmorning.” 

You were too busy trying to catch your breath to see Alexei tip toeing away with the biggest grin on his face.

“Morning…How are you feeling about all of this?” Clearing your throat, your eyes flicker over him.

He shuffled in his seat, straightening his shirt as he reached and played with the corner of the document. It didn’t even look creased, he hadn’t even looked at the assignment. Probably out of fear, in truth you had been too nervous to open it as well. Whatever lay in that envelope would determine the course of Bob’s heroic career.

“Nervous…I know everyone will be watching…waiting for me to ‘void’ out or whatever…” 

You felt your hand twitch in your lap as you reached to take hold of his shoulder. He turned towards you with a look of curiosity. “Don’t worry. Whatever happens I'm sure you’ll do great.” 

Reaching for the document, you cleared your throat. “Plus, I’ll be there to help you out.”

“Wait, really?”

Taking a quick look over at him, he was giving you such a hopeful look. He straightened up a little, leaning forward on his elbows as he looked at you.

“Y-Yea…I v-”

“They so valiantly said they wanted to be one to go on mission with you!” 

If you could disappear right now at this very moment you would. Just poof out of existence the minute Alexei opened his mouth. Both you and Bob winced, before looking forward. He stood there next to Yelena with a big smile while everyone else in the room looked a little flustered by his sudden outburst. Walker even chuckled as he brought his cup up to his lips, before a heavy hand slapped him on the back making him choke.

“They will make a great team won’t they?” Alexei smiled, giving you a not so subtle wink.

Walker rolled his shoulders back, cracking his neck as he reached to pat off whatever coffee had spilled on him.

“Yeah sure, whatever you say…”

Looking over at Bob, you were sure the both of you were a violent shade of red. You gave him a short smile which he reciprocated as you two both sat up just a little straighter.

“Alright everyone, we’re already behind schedule so if we can get started.”

──── ✦ ────

It was a simple recon mission.

The two of you were gonna infiltrate a classified mountain base, copy and wipe their hard drives, then get out without them even knowing you were there.

It was specified that you would do most of the heavy lifting. Your background in covert operations would be the main asset to this mission. You would get yourself and Bob into the building, then hack the system and make sure every nook and cranny was scraped then trashed. Avoid interaction at all cost.

Bob was there mostly for muscle.

And to watch you work.

That was the part that made you nervous. The rest you could do with your eyes closed, and a hand tied behind your back without breaking a sweat. But the thought of Bob watching your every move made your hand twitch.

The both of you stood at the edge of the jet’s drop off. You were hovering there, waiting for the open window to drop down.

This was Bob’s first test and would kick start the mission. He was supposed to get the two of you down safely and without alarm.

“How’re you feeling Bob?” Fixing a strap on your suit you finally looked up to meet his eye.

“Fine…Yea y’know just the first time I'm using my powers since I nearly wiped out all of New York…so a walk in the park really.” He was flexing his hands at his sides, like he was trying to get a grip on the reality of the situation.

You let him breathe there for a second, giving him enough time to catch his bearings. But not enough time where he could possibly spiral. 

“If I’m not worried you shouldn’t be worried. This mission is just meant to test the waters…we’ll be in and out.” 

Turning his head to look right at you, he swallowed hard. “I just don’t want to hurt you if anything goes wrong…”

A chill ran up your spine. You weren’t sure how to respond to that. Anything you could say got caught in your throat, choking you on your own desperation. Hearing those words was something that you didn’t know you needed, it set something ablaze in your chest. You were clawing at anything inside of you to respond, to get him to say anything else. To not let this moment slip by, even if it wasn’t the most appropriate time to.

If you could just get the words out, you could tell him there was absolutely nothing he could do that could hurt you. That even though he was the god amongst men, you were devout only to him.

When your lips finally parted, when you felt your confessional finally reach the tip of your tongue the plane jolted. You couldn’t react in time, your feet catching on the other as you reached for anything to steady yourself. It felt like practically the whole plane turned at a sharp 90 degree angle, before you could steady yourself something else did.

Bob wrapped his arm around your waist, steadying the both of you.You squeezed your eyes shut waiting for an impact that never came. The air around you felt like a shield as he held the two of you there, holding just a few inches above the air. His hands gripped onto you tightly, like if he let you go the floor would fall out from beneath.

When you opened your eyes again, he was staring down at you with a golden gaze. One arm stayed wrapped around your waist as the other came to hold your face. His touch felt like fire on your skin, holding your attention on him. If you tore your eyes away it felt like you were to commit a sin.

“SORRY! TURBULENCE! EVERYTHING OKAY BACK THERE?”

His eyes snuffed out as he looked over to Alexei in confusion then back to you. You couldn’t help but notice that he had yet to let you go as the both of you touched back down.

“But we’re not moving?”

With a sigh you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Yea I don’t…I don’t know what to tell you. Let’s just get ready to drop.”

──── ✦ ────

Everything was going fine until it wasn't. 

Which is usually the case for missions that seem like they were going to be a breeze, but you just wished it wouldn’t happen on this mission.

Bob was able to land the both of you on top of the building, near the entry point mapped out in the briefing. Breaking in was a breeze, especially since Bob was able to just force open any lock that gave you trouble. The two of you walked in sync, your footsteps becoming one as you turned each corner with your head on a swivel. There was a lot of security here, and people practically at each bend. 

But with bated breaths and practiced steps you were able to get to the command center without incident.

You had only been in there for a few minutes when Bob came up beside you, watching as your fingers began to fly across the keyboard.

“So…what are you doing exactly?” He leaned in close, his shoulder touching yours as you typed.

You faltered for a second, your brain short circuiting at the contact. His breath fanned over your neck as he looked over your shoulder, beaconing your pulse to quicken. You took a second to take a deep breath and close your eyes, willing your heart to slow down. He was too close for you to not be able to hide how shaky your hands became, to hear how loud your heart beat for him.

“I-I'm just bypassing any security measures they have in place. That way when I begin the download nothing corrupts the hard drive. Right now I'm sorta just on the surface level of their database, trying to reprogram all security clearance through my own user so I don't set off any alarms within their system.”

He hummed next to you putting his knuckle on his lip like he understood. But you saw a familiar glaze run over his eyes, the one that people got when something went completely over their head. Sometimes you forgot that Bob was a civilian before all of this…

Slowing your typing, you threw up what you were doing on the big monitor. Nudging him with your elbow you pointed to where your cursor was.

“Since we want to get everything off their computers without letting them know we’re even here…I'm rerouting every employee login and account through one. Mine. That way no matter how high the clearance of any specific file I'll be able to grab it up without their system knowing any wiser.” 

“What’re you gonna do after that?” 

Pressing a few more keys, a progress bar came up on the screen, read at twenty-three percent uploaded.

“Well while we wait for everything to download, I need to install some sort of malware. Something that’ll delete everything including any trace that we were even here.”

“So what am I here for?” 

“In case anything goes wrong, you’ll be my golden guardian and punch a way out. Think you can do that?” You smile, trying to lighten the mood as you pull up the surrounding camera feed.

He gives you that same smile, the one that makes your heart drop into your stomach as he rocks back and forth on his heels. “Don’t worry. I've got your back.”

Giving him a once over, you gestured at the screen. “Y’know I could teach you this stuff…it's really not that hard once you get the hang of it.”

He looked at you like you had hung the world. You watched as his eyes flickered gold for just a moment as he processed what you had said. Turning back to your typing you tried not to give it away that that single look made you want to never break away with him again, you wanted to covet every iteration of his attention that you could hold.

“It’d be nice to have someone else on the team that knows this stuff.”

“Does Yelena not know how to do this?”

“Who do you think gives Yelena and the rest of the team the thumb drives that does all of the work for them?

This gets a laugh from him, one that makes your ears burn as you continue to type.

“That would be cool, I'll definitely take you up on that after we get back.”

“It's a date.” The words slipped out in just that order before you could reel them in. A chill went down your spine as you realized what you had just said. 

You could tell that you had taken Bob by surprise when you said that. His shoulders squared and rolled back ever so slightly as he straightened to look at you. He was still nervously pulling at his fingers but you had captured his attention.

You opened your mouth to say more - when suddenly the room was shaded in red. 

The both of you turned to the screen and saw a large flashing warning screen piercing your eyes. You reached up to shield them as one of your hands went to type on the keypad. 

“ALERT ALERT. UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS AT TERMINAL 3-2-4-8!”

“Fuck.” You whispered, your fingers beginning to make dents in the keyboard with how hard you were typing. 

“What's happening!?” Bob yelled, covering his ears.

You weren’t completely locked out yet. This was merely a scare tactic. They had realized where you were accessing the system but hadn’t been able to locate which string of commands was yours. The progress bar showed you were at eighty-three percent. 

You just needed a little more time.

“They found out we’re here. I should still be able to get everything downloaded but I just need a little more time.” 

Pulling open one of your pouches you pulled out a small SD card. You really didn’t want to upload the malware while you were still scrapping all the information but you couldn’t afford to wait any longer. You’d just have to hope that you could download the last seventeen percent before the virus infected everything in the facility.

Looking up you see Bob standing there like a deer in headlights. The red light seemingly being a personification of his anxiety, it painted every crease of fear on his face.

“Bob! BOB! I need you to reinforce the door.”

He shook his head, as if he was shaking all the anxieties out of his thoughts. “Right! Yup! On it!”

It took just a beat for the two of you to jump back into action. You quickly began stripping the terminal internally while Bob ran to pin the door closed. You were racing against your own software as you watched the malware start to eat up the server you were on. The screen started to glitch as you continued to type.

“Fuck…FUCK! C’mon.”

Looking up, you saw Bob pushing multiple desks in front of the door. He was stacking them atop one another, creating a mountain of protection to keep any of them from getting in. Bob let out a huff as he leaned against the pile.

“That should hold them. Hows it coming on your end?”

“Just…Give me a few more seconds…”

Right when the progression bar reached one hundred percent you ripped it out of the computer and held it up.

“I GOT IT!”

You should have known that this would be when shit hit the fan.

You were only able to see Bob give you a strained smile and thumbs up before the windows to the office exploded with gunfire. 

Glass flew in every direction, cascading over the desks as you dropped to your knees behind them. Covering your head you let out a scream as you tucked under the desk.

You heard Bob call out your name above the gunfire, a blur coming into view as he kneeled in front of you.

“Are you okay?!”

“Oh y’know never better! Getting shot at is my favorite way to end a mission!” You yell, giving a thumbs up as you slid the hard drive into one of your belt pockets. 

You weren’t prepared for this to happen. It was supposed to be a covert mission, they weren’t supposed to know you were here. You didn’t have any bulletproof anything on, you didn’t have any exit gear or counter measures you could use at your disposal…You were totally exposed.

Closing your eyes, you winced as you continued hearing the bullets rain down around you. You tried to make sense of every different sound coming from around you, from the metal banging on the reinforced door to the smell of smoke and gunpowder coming from the other side of the room. There were two loud bangs that erupted from behind, making you curl further into yourself. The room had surged into chaos around you, a chaos you weren’t able to escape it seemed like.

Then you felt a tender touch on your wrist, pulling it away from your ear. Slowly looking over you saw Bob now haloed by a light behind him.

“Hey! Hey! I think I found a way out. There's a door in the back. We just need to make a break for it.”

Even under a hail of bullets, Bob still managed to halt your every action with one gesture. He held his hand out for you, waiting with an expected gaze. 

“C’mon…”

When your hands locked together, Bob quickly pulled you out from under the table. He whipped you around to shield you from the bullets, tucking your head into his chest as he curled around you. You watched as the bullets just bounced off of him, landing just a few inches away from you. He didn’t even seem bothered by all the commotion like he was a few seconds ago, you could tell now his main concern was making sure you got out safe.

There was a pause, when the muzzle flares stopped and the sound of clips dropping filled the air.

“They’re reloading…Bob they’re reloading…GO NOW!”

The both of you started running, your feet pounding hard on the ground as Bob led you to the door. It felt like your two hands were more than interwoven. It was like they were sealed by the very grooves in your palms, fusing into one pulse. You could practically feel how hard his heart was pounding, it got louder and louder the closer you got to the door. Like it was telling you that you were almost out of harm's way.

If you could have just made it through that door without incident…

The door was bolted shut, that much was evident when it didn’t move an inch despite Bob’s pulling on the handle. His one hand remained with you, while the other smacked the door.

He was too stressed to even think about using his powers…

“Bob…Bob just breathe! Focus on pushing the door open. That's all you need to do!”

You felt a twitch in your ears when the familiar sounds of chambers being loaded ricocheted off the walls of the office. Turning your head back, you swallowed when the men that were behind the windows had seemingly disappeared, but you could hear the squeak of their boots. They were moving into a better position, a better vantage point that gave them a better angle on the two of you. 

When Bob looked back to give you a triumphant opened mouth smile, a burning sensation erupted through your side. You felt confused at first, a grimace making its way on your face as a searing pain shot up through your nerves. 

The air around you turned stale when you pulled back the hand you had placed on your side, and it was coated in your blood.

You were bleeding. You were bleeding from a wound that suddenly felt like a red hot rod was slowly making its way through your side.

You tried to catch your breath as you looked up at Bob, who had gone pale. His eyes were trained not on you but on your hand and your wound. They flickered between the two quickly, before slowly making their way up to meet your eye.

“Bob…Did I just get shot?” Your voice barely peaked above a quivering whisper as the pain reached your knees, making your joints buckle under the pressure of the pain…how fast it was coming on.

You braced yourself in his arms as he caught you, pulling you through the doorway as the sound of gunfire erupted in your ears once more. Had the pain amplified everything else? Those gunshots were not nearly as loud as they were last time they shot at you. You winced as one hand kept pressure on where you assumed the wound was, while the other cradled your head.

Bob quickly sealed the door shut, rushing over to your side. One of his hands came to press on the hand that held your wound, while the other cupped your face. Just like on the plane, his thumb stroked under your eye. The moment he held you, you forgot all about the pain that was tearing through your muscles.

“Hey…Hey…You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be alright…It's not even that bad really…” Bob kept muttering as he kneeled above you.

When he pulled his hand away from your cheek you were reminded of the pain again. You groaned as the pain made you writhe up into a hunched sitting position. Both hands now rested on the wound, as you looked around with squinted eyes.

Your mind was trying to recall the building schematics from the mission briefing…the rooftop access that led to a maze of hallways where the end goal was the office. Everytime your mind was about to remember the multiple routines planned for your exit a gush of blood would spill between your fingers.

“I can see those gears turning in your head. C’mon (Y/N)...Once you get us out of here you’re gonna be right as rain.” 

When he was right in front of you again, placing both of his hands on either side of your face it all came rushing back to you.

The door was right in the back of the office…to the left of the door you both came in…so if you were right this hallway was headed in the south west direction of the building. It would just be a maze after that…a maze you knew neither of you could navigate together given current circumstances.

“Okay Bob…I'm gonna pack and dress my wound while you…break a hole through the ceiling.”

It was like he short circuited. His eyes widened then squinted as he tilted his head and licked his lips. It almost looked like he wasn’t fully computing what you had just said, which drew a pained chuckle from you.

“Are you sure you haven’t lost too much blood? Do you know where we are right now? Quick, without thinking what year is it?” 

You gave him a shove as you began to pull gauze and medical tape from a pouch to your right. The bleeding had slowed but that didn’t mean much to you given that the pain had made your entire side go numb now…

“Im serious…Im probably gonna pass out within the next three minutes and the emergency evac won’t get there before that. So our next best option is for you to fly us out of here and to the evac point instead of trying to be covert and manage your way through this maze of a building.”

“Wait, you're gonna pass out before they get here?!” He whipped around, watching as you wrapped the tape around the gauze and your waist.

“My body is going into shock…” You mutter, your fingers beginning to tingle as you stumbled down onto your knees.

“Fuck…Okay…J-Just give me a second!” 

Bob quickly flew away from you, giving you quite literally only a second to press the panic button on your suit before he was in front of you again. There was a breeze that wafted through the hallway now, calming you ever so slightly as you let out a shaky breath. 

“C’mere…” Holding out his arms, he motioned for you to come closer. 

Slowly, you moved into Bob’s space. He reached forward slowly, pulling you into him. Letting him move your arms to wrap around his neck, he reached to hold onto your back before hooking his arm under your knees. You kept your eyes shut as you felt him tighten his hold on you, followed by a gushing of wind.

You knew exactly what was happening, and you did not trust yourself to open your eyes.

“DO NOT DROP ME BOB!”

You felt a chuckle rumble through his chest as the two of you came to a stop. The air around you held you close, brushing against your cheek as you dared to peel it off of Bob’s chest.

“I told you I’ve got your back. Everything is going to be just fine.”

Peaking one eye open, you saw him smile down at you. You let out a breathy chuckle as you felt him tug you even closer - if that was even possible.

──── ✦ ────

Something was pinning your arm down.

You were hyper aware of how your entire body felt right now, especially your side…where you were shot was sore but no longer on fire. You were tucked into what felt like a starched hospital bed. But you couldn’t make sense of why your left arm felt like it was pinned down by some weights. Nothing had happened to it to your knowledge.

Slowly you peeled your eyes open, smacking your lips together. After you managed to pull whatever was pinning your arm down off of you you’d need to get a glass of water. 

When you finally managed to turn your head, you saw Bob. To be more specific Bob was sleeping atop your arm, his body steadily rising and falling as he was practically hanging off the side of your bed.

Everything about the end of the mission was coming back to you now. How you put your life in Bob’s hands as he got the both of you out of harm's way and home. A small smile made its way on your lips as you adjusted ever so slightly. As much as you liked looking at him like this, you really wanted your arm back.

He must have sensed that you had woken up, because before you could peel him off your arm he lifted his head up. Your breath got caught in your throat as the both of you just stared at each other.

Bob immediately shot up, the chair he was (barely) sitting on screeching back into the wall. “You’re awake! H-How are you feeling? Do you need anything?” 

You laughed as you pulled yourself up into a sitting position, seeing Bob freeze as he waited for something to go wrong.

“Water…” You rasped, coughing into the back of your hand.

A bottle of water made it into your hand in record time, with Bob holding the back of it as he opened the bottle for you. With a slow swallow, you hummed as Bob put the lid back on and moved it over to the bedside table.

“How long have I been out?” 

He slowly pulled the chair back up to the edge of your bed, sitting right beside you as he rolled his shoulders back.

“About eighteen hours. We got back at around three am, they rushed you to surgery after that. Said you were lucky that it went clean through.” 

You nodded, glancing down at the edge of the bed he was sat at. He was picking at the skin around his finger nails, eyes not meeting yours as he recalled what happened with precision. Like it had been running through his head the entire time you were out. There was no doubt in your mind that this entire time that he was waiting for you to wake up his anxieties were eating him alive…

Your fingers twitched in your lap as you took a second to compose yourself before slowly sliding your hand into his. The warmth of your palm seeped into his as the two of you just sat there in silence, neither of you looking directly at each other but rather at the grip of your palms together.

You broke the silence first, your voice cutting through the tension. “You did a really good job Bob.”

“Ahhh, It was all thanks to your calm head. You really were the reason why everything went smoothly.” He muttered, his thumb running across your knuckles.

“Bob you’re the whole reason why I got out of there in one piece you know that right? You’re also the reason why we were able to get in and out without incident.” You lean your head down to try and catch his eye.

“Without incident.” He scoffs, looking to the side. But he didn’t let go of your hand, if anything his grip got tighter. 

“Bob…I hope you know that wasn’t your fault. Everything was going smoothly up until that millisecond where they got the jump on us. Did you forget you literally shielded me from a barrage of bullets seconds earlier? I was watching them just bounce off you with awe.” You chuckle.

He took a second to process what you said, his eyes staying on your hand before finally making their way up to yours. When his eyes met yours his sweet smile finally graced his lips again, making your cheeks go hot.

“Y’know that still shocks me that I can do that…”

“Dude I wish I was bulletproof! Would save me so much time honestly.”

This gets a laugh from him as he sits up straighter, running a hand through his hair as he looks at you with such a devoted look. “Says the expert hacker. Which reminds me, you promised me some hacking lessons when we got back.”

“If I remember correctly I believe I called it a date…” You paused for just a second, a warmth exploding in your chest as a foreign confidence found its way into your veins.

The blush that had been painting your cheeks everytime you found yourself in a room with Bob seemed to spread to him as he smiled at you. Or maybe he always had that rouge on his cheeks as you were just never able to see it past the burning of your own. 

When he opened his mouth to respond, another voice shook the walls.

“FINALLY! YOU AGREE TO GO ON DATE! I HAVE WING MANED SUCCESSFULLY!” 

Alexei stood there with his arms high up in the air, laughing as he looked between the two of you. He clapped his hands together before holding them out to bask at the two of you. Both you and Bob just sat there in shock, waiting for the cheerful Russian to reach a normal volume.

When he noticed that the two of you were both blushed deer in headlights left to his jests, he went stiff as he raised his hands in surrender. “Do not mind me. Go back to your confessions of feelings. I will be down the hall…Glad to see you are awake and well.”

If he could have left a puff of smoke shaped like him in his wake as he ran away, you were sure that's what you would be staring at now instead of an empty doorway.

There was a beat of silence, as both you and Bob slowly turned to look at eachother again. But instead of an awkward tension he only gave you a shy smile as his other hand reached to rub the back of his neck…with his other still holding yours.

“So…he agreed to be your wing man as well?”

“Oh my god don't even get me started on that.”

[underthetree845]

chuuya taking his hat off to hide when he kisses his partner 🤭

Hello saturn lovely! Sorry this took me so long to finish TwT I love the prompt, but as you know writer's block hit me kinda hard the second semester of school so over the summer I've been trying to get back into the swing of posting once in a while!

Hope you enjoy <3 thank you for the request! _

Kiss Me Hard Before You Go

Nakahara Chuuya/Reader (oneshot request)

cws: fem! reader, established relationship, bungou stray dogs s5 spoilers, meursault arc spoilers, fluff, hurt/comfort kinda? there was a little hurt, reuniting, airport reunion, ada dazai, reader cries about 2.5k words summary: Chuuya disappeared on a business trip for three whole days with no explanation- and no one would tell you why. Now he's returned to japan and back in your arms. a/n: This is my last fic for the summer before school starts aaa qwq I'm glad I was able to finish it before the semester starts though! *sigh* am I really incapable of writing something like this without accidentally creating so much plot? Anyways, hope you enjoy! <3 divider credit: (x) (x) ‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹ Chuuya had never considered himself to be a very possessive man; or a possessive boyfriend, for that matter. Protective, sure, but how could anyone expect him not to be? He understood, probably better than most, the risks that came with even so much as associating with a person in his position. It made Chuuya’s stomach churn unpleasantly to even imagine putting you in any sort of danger, so he used his position (along with the power and assets that came with it) to take certain preventative measures. The penthouse you shared was equipped with state of the art security, a technological system truly fit for an executive of the Port Mafia. Additionally, in case you ever needed to travel long distances without him, Chuuya often kept a trusted chauffeur on call. This individual also happened to be a professionally trained underground bodyguard of his personal selection. Even so, Chuuya knew you had a good head on your shoulders. He trusted that you would try to keep yourself out of trouble, or call for him at the first sign of it. It didn’t matter if he was on the road, halfway through a private meeting, or in the middle of pummeling down an enemy organization. Chuuya had always been a man with his priorities set straight. Not even Mori’s notifications were set to come through on silent mode. Coming home to you at the end of the day, allowing you to soothe away the crease between his brows, your voice uttering sweet nothings against the shell of his ear. You had become his lifeline, irreversibly carved your name into every cell of his body. He’d do anything to erase your pain, and it was making his heart break more than anything to know that he was the cause of the salty tears now streaming over your lash line. Chuuya did his best to hold back an ‘oof’ when you threw your frame into his own, burying your sobs in the crook of his neck. He was immediately overwhelmed with the scent of your perfume, the familiar feeling of your body against his own, the softness of the sweater you wore, and the glimmer that never seemed to escape your eyes. The red colored contacts from earlier had given Chuuya one hell of a headache, which only added to the pressure from taking off and being stuck in one of the mafia’s smallest private jets with the most insufferable jackass he’d ever met and some hair dye obsessed casino manager passed out on one of the couches. Chuuya’s gloved fingers almost trembled as they gripped the fabric of your shirt. He lifted a hand to cradle the back of your head while the other remained planted firmly on your lower back.

Sakaguchi Ango, if Chuuya remembered correctly, stood a few yards away. He simply observed the situation from afar, as if he dared not insert himself into the scene. A government agent whom Dazai used to maintain his connection with the outside world. Ango stood with one hand folded neatly over the other behind his back, the faint ghost of a smile residing behind his glasses as he watched Dazai reunite with his fellow agency members. The brunette walked on a crutch, but the uncharacteristically tired look in his eyes brightened ever so slightly when he was swarmed by his coworkers. Chuuya continued to hold you close, patiently waiting for your sobs to die down enough for you to be able to speak coherently. He loosened his grip slightly, removing one of his leather gloves behind your back and bringing that same hand up to cup your face. A whisper of your name left his lips, and your teary eyes finally refocused to meet the warmth of his own. “Chuuya… how could you just leave?” your voice cracked; he could see the hurt in your eyes. Guilt crept into his chest, eyebrows knitting together as you subconsciously leaned into his palm. This was exactly the sort of thing Chuuya promised himself he’d never do. You were the absolute number one priority in his life. There was no doubt in his mind; he didn’t want there to be any doubt in yours either. “I know, Doll, ‘m sorry, it was never my intention…” he muttered, allowing you to rest your hands on his chest. “I know that’s a shit excuse, but I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” A beat of silence passed, the indistinct chatter of the agency fell on deaf ears as you zoned in on the man in front of you. His breath, the way his eyes searched your expression, how you could once again feel the warmth of his skin against your own. “You’re not hurt, are you?” your voice was pricked with concern, hands gentle as you cupped his jaw and turned his head from side to side. Chuuya let out a breath, fondness flickering in his irises at your concern. “Barely a scratch,” he murmured, and you seemed to accept his answer. “Chuuya,” you started, and his gaze locked onto yours. He voiced your name in response. “I need you to promise me something, please?” “Anything.” 

You bit your lip. Your mind told you it was a selfish request. You understood, probably better than most, how unpredictable your boyfriend’s line of work could be. But you had accepted it as an adequate price to pay for his love when the two of you started seeing each other, even more so when you moved in together. He was yours, you believed it with every fiber of your being. Chuuya had told enough stories of his old work partner for you to gather that the two had never exactly been the chummiest of pals. So the fact that they cooperated for this mission must’ve meant that it couldn’t have been a minor dilemma. You understood why Chuuya made the decision he did, and that it was probably just as difficult on him. Albeit, that didn’t make your feelings any less real. Your heart reminded you of the unconditional love and comfort that Chuuya always offered you. You knew he’d never intentionally hurt your feelings, especially not without talking it out and making up for it in some way afterward. “Doll…?” he barely breathed, giving you all the space you needed to voice what was on your mind. You took a deep breath. “Don’t… please don’t scare me like that again,” your voice wavered as you spoke, “Everything on the news is scary. And every time I watch it all I can think about is the fact that you’re out there.” You took a moment to glance at the group of Armed Detective Agency members on the airport runway to your left. One of the so-called terrorists you heard about on the news stood amongst the group about ten feet away from where you watched. The world was confusing, and scary, but there was a certain security in your heart that told you as long as you had Chuuya by your side, everything would be okay. “First you’re leaving before sunrise and staying out late on special missions, and I get it, I really do…” you felt a lump beginning to form in your throat, threatening to make you choke over your words, “but then you just leave on a business trip to Europe without so much as a ‘goodbye, I’ll be home soon’? And I have to find out from a call from your boss? I didn’t- I still don’t understand what’s happening. Do you know how scared I was? That I might not ever see you again?” Chuuya’s thumb swiped away the teardrop that ran down your cheek, his eyes trailing over your expression. “You’re right, it’s not fair… I don’t think I could ever apologize enough,” he began, his hold on you tightening slightly, “All that I can ask is for you to understand. I can explain everything to you when we get home. And I promise, I’ll do my best to not leave you in the dark so suddenly. It was an urgent mission, but it must have been scary. You’ll never have to feel like that again, not if I can help it.” Chuuya’s face softened, the corners of your lips curving up slightly at his sincerity as he cupped your cheek. “Shit… you deserve so much better.” You stood there for a moment, just breathing. Soaking in each other’s presence as your heartbeat gradually fell back to its usual pace.

“My my, Slug, is this the lovely lady you were so eager to get back to?” a voice chimed from your left, and you turned your head to face the man at the same time Chuuya snapped his head in that direction. Your boyfriend clicked his teeth, pressing your body closer to his own. “What’s it to you, huh, Dazai?” Chuuya was clearly trying to suppress his irritation. He was doing especially well, considering the fact that he had been holed up next to Dazai on an airplane for the past fourteen hours. “I’m just trying to acquaint myself,” the man went on, a grin playing on his lips despite Chuuya’s glare, “As a responsible owner, I should at least make sure my dog is in good hands.” You tilted your head slightly, and Chuuya sucked in a breath. “You’re treading on some pretty thin ice, Mackerel,” he growled through gritted teeth, “Watch what you say around my girl.” The taller man only took a step forward, his eyes glittering in amusement, a sharp contrast to the hollowed out, almost dead look he carried earlier. “Oh? Holding back your more vulgar language around the lady?” Dazai hummed with mild intrigue, “Perhaps my dog is being well taken care of.” You simply stood and watched with intrigue, the interaction clearly more complex than distinguishable at first glance. Despite their constant verbal jabs and ostentatious insults toward each other, there was a sense of familiarity between the two that was almost palpable to you. They bounced off each other, knowing exactly which buttons to press and which ones to avoid. It was probably a welcome change of tone in contrast to what they had just been through. Your gaze flickered between the two once more, and you couldn’t help but notice how the tension in Chuuya’s shoulders had been released. “Dazai-san?” your voice was level, and both of the men fell silent to give you their attention. You looked at your beloved, then to his ex-partner, then Chuuya, then Dazai again. Mirth swam in your eyes. “I want to thank you for making sure Chuuya was able to return home safely today. Truly, I cannot thank you enough.” You gave a slight bow of your head, and Chuuya looked like he wanted to protest. For once, Dazai didn’t immediately produce a response; he fell silent at your sentiment. This time, a gentler smile curved onto his lips. “Please spare me, Miss,” Dazai began, “Truth be told, I don’t believe I could have made it out without Chuuya’s help either.” The redhead raised his eyebrows. "I'm passing him into your capable hands now. I trust you’ll take good care of him?” Dazai seemed satisfied with the chuckle that slipped from your throat. “You have nothing to worry about,” you replied, “And I trust that your detective agency will treat you well?” “They always have.” Chuuya let out a breath, sharing a look with his partner before turning to face a black passenger vehicle that had pulled up a short distance away. Tinted windows that prevented anyone outside from peeking in; glass, body, and tires that were all bulletproof. It was one of the mafia’s. 

“C’mon Dollface, we should get going. Don’t wanna be here when the press shows up, and the boss is probably dying for me to give him a call,” Chuuya nodded his head in the direction of the car; you brought your hand up to give a small wave to Dazai and the handful of agency members further away who glanced in your direction. You let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding in, allowing your head to rest on Chuuya’s shoulder as you made your way to the car. You felt like you could finally breathe properly again. The door unlocked with a quiet click. Chuuya swung open the door of the vehicle with his non gloved hand and stepped aside to allow you to enter first. “...Chuu?” you started quietly, taking a step closer to where he stood. “Hm?” he raised an eyebrow. You placed your hands loosely on the back of his neck, fingers intertwined; Chuuya responded by resting his hands on your hips, listening intently.  You could have held more of a grudge. He disappeared overnight without a word, and no one would tell you why. You’d been on edge for three days straight. Hardly even sleeping through the night as you kept up with the news almost obsessively, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. To be able to hold Chuuya close again so easily felt almost surreal. A soft smile creeped into your expression, the corners of your eyes crinkling as you tilted your head to the side. Chuuya’s breath stilled. “I’m just…” you paused for a moment, your voice pouring with sincerity, “I’m really glad you’re back, and that you’re safe.” Chuuya paused for another moment, studying you carefully as an equally tender look came to his face. He glanced to the side for a moment, and let out a disgruntled huff upon discovering that Dazai’s head was still tilted in your direction; he kept a curious eye on the situation from several meters away. Your boyfriend pursed his lips for a moment before snaking one of his hands further around your waist. He plucked his pork pie hat off the crown of his head, and before you had the chance to realize what was going on, you were already being gracefully tilted backwards, forcing your hands to grip onto the lapel of Chuuya’s jacket for support. Everything seemed to still the moment he slotted his lips into yours, holding his hat up to act as a shield from certain prying eyes. You didn’t hesitate to pull him in closer, your lashes fluttering shut as you savored what you felt like you had been missing for an eternity. Chuuya’s eyes were shut in concentration, his heart thrumming with delight at the familiar sensation of your lips molded against his own. Chuuya didn’t pull away until you were both light-headed from the lack of air. Cheeks flooded with warmth, looking at each other as if you were the only two people in the entire world. “I missed you so fucking much, you know that?” Chuuya’s voice was low as he brushed his thumb over your cheek. The two of you stood straight, lingering in each other’s embrace for a moment longer. Chuuya lightly tossed his hat inside the car and once more gestured with his arm out for you to enter first. The satisfied smile on his lips morphed into one of slight perplexion when you didn’t show a reaction, raising your fingertips to brush over your lips. “Chuuya?” you questioned, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He replied with your name, all the more puzzled when you let out an incredulous chuckle. “Since when are your teeth so sharp?” 

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹ a/n: Thank you so much for reading! Have a day/night/morning/evening as lovely as yourself. tagging: @judasgot-it (I noticed that I wrote down that I agreed to tag you for chuuya fics but I can't seem to remember why?? TwT please tell me if this is incorrect! Thank you <3)

[stickydrawingportraitlamp]

sebastian solace x reader? Anyone?

too bad :P

Sebastian Solace X Reader

Genre: Fluff, Found family

Warnings: None

Summary: After having been thrown into this hellhole, at an unreasonably young age, you find yourself trying to accomplish the task at hand; Find the Crystal. Whilst you are on your journey, you encounter a rather large angler man.

Author note: oh tod he's so dreamy guys. ALSO !! i made the reader into this sort of introvert where they're like "oh god people" kind? Not the "Oh no! People :(" kind of introvert. Reader is 14 by the way !!!!!

(spot the poppy playtime reference MEHEHRMRBR)

Screaming of an unknown enemy closes in quickly. Wanting to avoid certain death, you dive into a locker you made sure wasn't inhabited. It's screaming grows louder, tormenting your eardrums. You can't help but bring your hands to shield your ears from potential deafness and pain, a factor you wouldn't want in this place.

Hearing the screeching Angler pass it's way through, you burst out of the locker to cough out your lungs. The amount of dust your poor, overworking lungs hacked up was nowhere near healthy. Dust, grime and sweat had been imbedded into your diving suit, gross. You hope theres an open hole leading to underwater diving that would be able to wash away all the sweat and dirt off of your body.

Maybe, just maybe, if I'm able to get that crystal, and get out of this place... I can go home.

Home? Is that even a place anymore? Maybe it's the fact that the human mind finds so many things to cling onto when faced with impending death. One last hope to hold close. An unknown family, friends and maybe even a potential lover you could of had the chance to grow old with, and had many laughs in the house you grew up in. That... Sounds like paradise, but you are far away from that dream, the bile and sweat sticking to your swimsuit, a threat. Escaping this place is only a small plea, begging for anyone to hear your cries. To anyone, who could give you that boost to keep going.

'Door 46, am I almost halfway through?' You're surprised you even managed to get to 40, surely there's a surprise around the corner? A potential medkit would be fantastic. Your vitals read 35, that's nowhere near good. Batteries? Your lantern could use it. You only have enough to accompany your lone self through an empty, cold... Dark place.

The swirling thoughts in your head only manage to cease after encountering the door that finally indicates you are halfway through this hellhole. Door 50.

The dripping of a broken pipe drives you insane, every drop makes your fight or flight activate. The rapid pitter patter of your feet scurry to the next door, automatically sliding open once it knows there is a human presence.

The next room, however, is dimly lit. Two portable lights shining in the direction of a vent. How... Interesting? Is this where you need to crawl into? Your thoughts are quickly misguided as a gruff voice emits from the emit, earning a harsh flinch from you in response.

"Hey, stranger. Over here." This voice calls out to you, alluring your oh so close demise.

You have the thought to immediately scurry to the door, not wanting to take your chances. Fight or flight? Flight, surely. Your sweaty palms land on the door with a soft thud, realising that the only way out of this room requires a keycard. A code breacher is out of the question, seeing as you hold no such thing on you.

"Don't be so scared... I don't bite. Maybe." He utters that last part quietly, making a chill run up your spine. Will you really have to find out if this is something that will rip your spine out? But... It's the most friendly voice you've heard in hours, aside from the other angry prisoners from earlier that practically took everything you scavenged.

Investigating the vent, you crouch down to a level where it's most easy to be able to crawl in through. The size of the vent is no problem for you, since you are a 14 year old who could easily slot your way through tightly fit ventilation systems, or a blocked room.

Albeit, the diving gear on your back made it just a tad bit challenging to slide through, it was an easy feat. Your eyes dart from each side of the room, looking for the one who'd voiced out their friendliness. You definitely weren't expecting a 10ft terrifying Angler humanoid.

"Welcome, welcome! Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. My name is Sebastian, your only friend."

... With teeth. Sharp ones.

"Now, I'm betting that your supervisors gave you instructions to acquire a certain orange coloured crystal, no?" He words out with a certain amount of sarcasm dripping from his voice. Supervisors? You're only 14.

"However— Oh." He stops, suddenly. Normally, he wasn't one to take in the appearance of a fellow prisoner, seeming as it 'deemed unnecessary.' You, were younger. A lot younger than he expected.

"What the.. What the hell's Urbanshade doing sending kids down here...?" He was muttering to himself, his hand reaching up. Thinking that he was about to grab you, you recoil in fear. You find however, that your fear is misguided and that he'd only brought up one of his three hands to grab his chin in thought.

It had been a good 7 hours since you'd spoken last, other than the occasional screaming and crying. Your throat, croaks out at first which earns a cringe from yourself.

"I'm 14. I'm not a kid." Your throat feels like it was tortured from the amount of screeching you'd emitted running away from Anglers, and threats. That stupid Wall Dweller was one of those threats.

At your response, he chuckles amusingly. Sebastian finds your bravery endearing for someone your age. "Haha, alright. You're not a kid. What's someone your age doing here anyway?" He voices.

Observing the place, you talk as you walk around to analyse your surroundings, finding this small talk pointless.

"They threw me in here, I was trying to find my mum. Told me she'd be in here, just need to get a crystal first. Then they'd take me to her."

....

An uncomfortable silence passed by, before he frowned at you.

"are you that gullable? Thought 14 year olds were supposed to be semi intelligent." That earned a slap from you onto his tail. He hisses at the contact.

"Ow! Fuck, you little..." He hisses.

"You deserved that. She was here last, otherwise I wouldn't be here. Shut up, and give me your ware so I can get out of this shithole." You were obviously pissed, upset that the 10ft Angler guy offered no solace. (haha get it?)

"Alright, alright. That was a fault on my part, just.... Why did they throw you in here? You can't be here. You can't stay. Look, kid. I know they told you that your mother was here somewhere, and if she was then she's gone now. She probably made it back up to the surface." Though you narrow your eyes, you can sense a hint of comfort in those words. You can tell, he's genuinely worried about you.

Sebastian see's many people come and go, only to see that they inevitably meet their dark fate. He hopes, that this won't be the case with you.

"..Look. Urbanshade doesn't tell the truth, they lie to get what they want. I'm sorry to be the one that breaks it to you, but your mother was used as a false hope to get you down here. The more hands they have on the mission, the bigger the possibility to get the crystal. Take it from someone like me." he'd muttered that last part, he can understand your situation.

Urbanshade had lied to him too, told him that his Freedom would be granted. He just need to pay a price first. Be their puppet, be their experiment.

Sweat beaded down your face, this isn't what you wanted to hear. Had they really lied to you? Used you as a move like chess on a board? Sebastian can see your distress. How you came to the conclusion that he was indeed right, even if your mother was here... She would be nowhere to be found.

why were you even here?

Sebastian knows you can't be sent back up, Urbanshade will track your location and come to the conclusion that you're heading back. They would blow you to smithereens because of the bomb device around your neck. You're obviously too young to continue this harsh journey to ensure your families existence. A 14 year old shouldn't have to die in an agonizing way, especially when they're so young and have a life ahead of them. shit.

He really has no choice, does he?

"Agghh.... Fine!! Fine fine. You, are gonna stay here with me. Capish?" He inquires, your head shakes fervently. Your mouth gapes open like a fish out of water, wanting to reject this idea. He stops you before even a single word can come from your mouth.

"Don't worry about the crystal. Urbanshade will send more prisoners to do their dirty work. I'll get you food, and that damn collar off of your neck. Other than that, stay here. You'll be safe with me, and I will try and find out as much of your mother as I can. I trade these supplies for the data you come across. I should surely have one of your mother." Every single thing he says has you shaking your head. But, deep down... You know he'll be the closest thing that leads you to your mother.

"Oh. What's your name kid?"

...

"[Name]."

--------------------------------------------------

ALRIFHT so im done !!!! if this actually goes viral i will actually turn this into a full blown story on Ao3. pls comment and let me know if you want more of the family trope with Sebastian cause we just don't see enough.

Part 2 is out now!

[revelboo]

This is a sandbox storyline- basically a story starter anyone can play off of. No set Transformers universe here so any partner or partners goes- you want to romance BW Wapinator, IDW Megatron, and TFP Ratchet? Go for it. The premise? Cybertronians trying to find a human who's a compatible match to their sparks and biofields (bit different than my normal stuff, where here, a match needs to be made to be able to bond). Due to how severely endangered their species is, the factions are cooperating even if there still is palpable tension. The agreement is to lure potential matches onto a massive cruise ship where they can interact as their holomatter avatars with their real forms stashed in the hold. Flirting, chatting up, and romancing humans they're drawn to with the intent to reveal their true forms when the cruise stops at its first and only port of call. An isolated island.

If you want to play: no minors in any context, smut is fine, dub-con/forced seduction is okay, but anything beyond that is a nope. Pick whatever characters you want from any TF continuity and carry on the storyline. You can do next/previous like I do and reference this starter if you want, but you don't have to. It's free real estate since it's a very old fic I haven't touched in forever and it probably wasn't getting touched again ever otherwise, so have fun.

Cruise ship concept inspired by Swim Away by themaskismyface on Ao3

Cybertronian Cruiselines

Squinting up at the massive ship as the sun bakes you, people move around you up the walkway alone or in small groups. And some of your doubts ease a bit seeing the ship up close, because you'd honestly assumed it was a scam of some sort. The brochure that had come with your ticket had indicated it was a fantasy cruise. That you could roleplay and romance crew members as funny as it sounds.

Rounding a corner, you run into a queue of people and the cause? The two tallest men you've ever seen. One's mostly silver hair is swept back from an almost sinister, scarred face and red eyes that have to be contacts sweep over the crowd. The other one's hair so dark a black it almost looks blue in the sunlight, his eyes startlingly bright. Yeah. You absolutely understand the backlog now. Everyone gawking at the eye candy on display. That one with the contacts, his eyes almost glow with a feral light, lips twisting in annoyance. And that duster he's wearing looks too hot for the heat, his shirt halfway unbuttoned to show an expanse of tawny skin and tucked into tight fitting jeans. His buddy's shirt stretched tight over a broad chest as he smiles and reaches to hook a finger against his tie, tugging slightly.

"Welcome to the Iacon. I'm Optimus and this is my co-captain Megatron," blue eyes says, his deep voice easily carrying over the whispers. "Please get settled so we can set sail without delay." And he's sweeping an arm to get people moving in the right direction.

Glancing at the two hunks, you follow the crowd, pulling your luggage with you. If the entire crew is that lovely? You're going to have some fun. The ramp enters into an expansive main area, and your neck cranes to try and figure out how many levels there are above you. Never seen a ship this big before. Everything gleaming gold, cream, and glass. Looking far too bourgeoise for you to set foot in or touch. And it looks like the entire cruise line crew is right here, mingling and drifting among the guests. Men and women both and there doesn't seem to be any real dress code going on that you can tell. The only way to tell the crew from the guests is the lack of luggage and the little pins they're wearing. Little colored badges that look like funny faces. And there's multiple versions it looks like. Showing what their duty is, maybe?

"I can't believe that the future of our race lies with these pathetic creatures," Megatron growls, watching the humans wander up the ramp to the ship, fingers flexing in irritation at this indignancy.

Shooting him a censoring look, Optimus watches the humans go. "The strong should protect the weak. Though, these forms do take some getting used to." Rolling his shoulders, he rubs his fingers together, playing with the sensory net and the sensations that feel as real as if it was his own servos touching.

"It's a miracle humans have survived as long as they have," Megatron mutters. No claws, no fangs. Disturbingly squishy and weak, and still very determined to murder each other from what he can tell. Shuddering slightly, he growls as more of them head their way. To come gawk at him. But after centuries of failed attempts to create a hybrid or artificial spark? Their numbers are dwindling. This is the last, best option and he despises it. And as carefully as they selected humans to invite, he can't deny the dread that maybe it won't work. That the medics and scientists got it wrong and this is all a waste of time. That Cybertronians can't be saved. Head turning, he sees Autobot and Decepticon avatars crowding the railing, leaning to watch the humans that might be their salvation with open curiosity.

Annoyed when he sees several head into the ship to greet the humans. And to get close enough to see if any of them trigger reactions to their biofields. Oblivious little organics smiling and gawking at them as they're fussed over on the pretense of getting closer. Because that's the game here. A fantasy cruise where the crew, his people, cater to the human guests' whims, trying to find a compatible partner. It's horrifying that they've sunk this low.

[ravcnism]

Would you also maybe be able to write a bob reynolds x m!reader (obviously) where the reader is the bottom/sub? 🫶

NIGHT SHIFT. — BOB REYNOLDS x Male!READER (NSFW.) MNDI.

Summary: It’s almost 3 AM, you’re half-asleep, and Bob is bleeding at your door again—with a cut that barely needs tending. But when you let him in, it’s not just stitches he wants. One kiss turns into a blur of hands and heat.

## TAGS: Nurse!Reader, Pre-established relationship, Eventual Smut, Patching the other up, Top!Bob, Bottom!Reader, AMAB reader, Bob has a praise kink.

## WARNINGS: Mature language, Smut with some plot, Minor mentions of injury

Note: Felt a little unsure about this, but I did my best! I'm just gonna post it and forget I wrote it because I am genuinely so unsatisfied,,

The knock on your door wasn't urgent. It wasn't the kind of knock that spiked adrenaline into your chest, or sent your heart hammering a mile a minute. It was small, and hesitant, as though it was apologizing. You'd always been a light sleeper, but the sound had been so gentle that it took another try to finally pry you from your unconscious state.

You cracked one eye open, blinking blearily at the red glow of your bedside clock. 2:41 AM.

There was another knock. Then a pause, like thinking. Then a thump, the shifting of someone's feet. You groaned into your pillow before forcing yourself upright. Your blanket fell from your shoulders as you swung your legs over the side of the bed. You padded barefoot to the door and pulled it open.

Bob stood in the hallway, shirt slightly torn, his arm cradled to his side. Blood smeared his sleeve—not enough to snap you awake, but enough to make a mess. His hair was damp with sweat, curls clinging to his forehead. He looked almost entirely too large for the hallway, eyes gleaming like a dog caught in the rain. He had a sweet look on his face, that soft, hesitant smile. He opened his mouth to greet you, but quickly closed it upon realizing that he had woken you from what looked to be a very deep slumber.

“What do you want,” you mumbled, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes. It wasn't mean or dismissive, but clearly annoyed. And rightfully so.

Despite the dark, you got a better look at his injury. You looked up at him and sighed.

Bob shrugged. “Got caught in some shrapnel.”

“You know we've got other nurses in the med bay, right?”

He winced a little, his eyes flickering to the floor. “I-I wanted you.”

You melted in the invisible way that you did whenever he said such things.

Bob pressed his lips together. He let a beat pass, and then he lifted his arm slightly. The gash wasn’t deep, but it was raw and ugly-looking, red blooming through the gauze like a sunset. “I don't think it's that bad. I didn’t wanna bother anyone.”

“Oh, but my door was wide open, huh?” You scrubbed a hand over your face, forcing yourself to wake up entirely. You stepped aside, urging him in. “Sit. Bed. Now.”

He obeyed without question. He shuffled in, ducked his head like he thought he might bump the doorframe (he wouldn’t), and perched on the edge of your mattress with a cautious sort of reverence. Like it was sacred ground and he was lucky to even touch it. He sat patiently, feet to the floor, eyes following you as you moved to grab your first-aid kit from the nightstand drawer.

You flicked on the bedside lamp. Warm amber light spilled over him, catching on the edge of a forming bruise at his temple, the smear of blood on his forearm, the way he looked at you like you were already halfway to saving him. He was smiling like he couldn't help it. Like this was the highlight of his day, the only reason he got out of bed. And for all you knew, it might have been.

You didn’t say anything as you knelt in front of him, grabbing his wrist gently and peeling back the soaked gauze. He hissed a little. “I've barely done anything,” you muttered, but there was no real venom behind it. Just tired affection and the ache of being forced to wake up at 2 AM after a 17 hour shift. You looked up to catch a glimpse of Bob’s lovestruck gaze.

It had been awhile since the two of you had started dating. It wasn't one big explosion of a scene, but a cluster of—moments. Soft ones, quiet ones; Bob bringing you coffee without asking, you patching him up after missions and pretending not to stare at his physique. The late-night conversations that drifted from trauma to favorite songs, the way he’d sometimes knock on your door just to sit in the same room. Falling in love was as easy as finding a steady pulse under his skin.

He saw you often, and perhaps that was the main contributor. You'd been working for Valentina for as long as you could remember, and you were among the group of doctors that nursed her ‘Sentry’ back to health. Bob had caught your attention since way back then, but it had taken all that time for you to have finally done something about it.

You worked at the med bay, tucked into the lower levels of the new Avengers Tower. Despite your medical position, your reach stretched further than the rest of the professionals in your team. Your personal comm never went silent for long. Someone always needed something: blood tests, IV drips, a dislocated shoulder snapped back into place without anesthesia because "I’m fine, really—”. You’d seen it all. Broken bones. Super-serums gone sideways. Ava Starr's caffeine-induced migraines. Yelena’s sprains. Alexei refusing a tetanus shot because he thought he was immune to "American rust.”

And then, there was Bob. The Sentry. A seemingly regular guy housing a dormant eldritch being. Your favorite headache. You were working with him a whole lot. Valentina wanted him studied, kept under surveillance. They were eager to get him going again, to wake the powers that were once there. He'd visit your clinic almost every day of the week. You'd take his charts, list his results, stare too long, conduct physical tests. You had plenty of time to get to know each other.

Eventually, they'd been bringing him along on missions. Exposure therapy, as Valentina called it. Hence the reason as to why he currently sat bleeding on your bed.

He was quiet, watching you work. He had always been satisfied just staring at you, relishing in the gentle touch of your well-trained hands. Even in your grumpy sleep-deprived state, he found you worth adoring. His lips parted slightly, an apology hanging on the edge of his tongue. He kept quiet, unsure if it would make it better or worse.

The cut wasn’t deep. Sloppy, maybe. It looked like it had been caused by shrapnel or broken glass. Nothing urgent, nothing fatal. Just enough blood to look dramatic. Just enough pain to make him seek you out. You reached for the saline without asking. He winced again when the liquid touched his raw skin.

“Ow..”

“It's healing on its own, Bob.” You wiped around the wound, crimson gathering into the cotton ball you used. “Your body does that, remember? Enhanced physiology and all that jazz. You heal faster than most, you just have to let it.”

He briefly looked away, pretending to take interest in the view outside your window. “It still hurts..”

A beat passed. For a moment, he felt as though he could hear all the noise outside. The city, still awake. Cars blearing, people talking. You sighed; a little too loud. But your hands never stopped moving. Bandage, tape, antiseptic, all of it second nature. You could do this half-asleep. You probably were half-asleep. Bob’s eyes followed every motion, like he wasn’t sure if you were stitching him up or putting him back together.

“I’m not mad,” you finally said. “Just tired.”

“I know.”

You finished the last strip of gauze, pressing it down gently, brushing your fingers across his skin in a way that didn’t need to be medical anymore. You stayed kneeling there a moment longer, head bowed slightly, his wrist still cradled in your hand. You kissed his freshly-bandaged wound. Tradition. He claimed it made every single ache go away. You called it bullshit, but there had never been an injury of his that you hadn't kissed.

“Thanks for coming to me,” you said quietly. “Even if you’re annoying about it.”

His laugh was breathy and cracked and made your chest ache in that soft kind of way.

And then he was staring too long; too deeply, too intently. You caught the look in his eyes gleaming under the lamplight. His gentle, wordless plea. The two of you grew silent enough for the tension to turn palpable.

You gave in. You rose from your knees to kiss his lips, a messy but fevered act. It felt light, and dizzying, as though you were either waking up from a dream or falling into one. You ran your tongue over his lower lip and he gasped, allowing you entry. It took little to no time for heat to pool into your stomach, gathering like some molten puddle of want. You held his shoulders and straddled his lap, feeling a growing hardness beneath you. You kissed him deeper, hungrier. He held his hand against your back, the other clinging onto your waist, holding you closer.

You were the first to pull away, a string of saliva connecting your lips together. He looked up at you, dark-blue eyes dazed and half-lidded. You ran a thumb down his cheek. “I don't believe it,” you laughed. “An ulterior motive. You come in, injured, then you seduce me.”

Bob stammered a bit, his hands pulling you back again. “Didn’t… do anything,” he mumbled, breathless.

“No?” you teased, breath tickling against his lips. “Didn't you?”

He shook his head, but it was barely a gesture. It was more like a shiver rolling down his spine. His fingers dug into your hips like he was trying to anchor himself, like the warmth of your skin was the only thing keeping him tethered.

You leaned in, let your mouth ghost over his, let the air between you charge. “A full team of doctors in rotation, under night shifts, all in the med bay. And you chose to seek me out. Your boyfriend, in his bedroom.” You chuckled, darkly. “You didn't come here just to get patched up, did you?”

Bob whimpered. He dragged you into another kiss, like he couldn’t bear to be teased anymore. It was messier this time, frantic, all tongue and aching teeth, like he was trying to crawl into your mouth, into your chest. His whole body vibrated beneath you, thighs tense where they bracketed yours, breath stuttering as he kissed down your jaw, your throat, like he couldn’t decide where to land.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he whispered, somewhere below your ear, voice shaking. “All day, it was just—just you. You in your scrubs. You chewing on that pen. That stupid laugh you did when I made that dumb joke—God, fuck.” His hips bucked up against you before he could stop himself. His breath caught like he had no control of what just happened.

You pulled back a little, just to look at him. He was wrecked, all in such little time. All because of a few words and a deep, wet kiss. His cheeks were pink, hair damp at the temples. His pupils were blown wide, so dark they almost swallowed the blue. He looked like a starved man, and you, his first meal in days. You had an inkling of an idea as to what might have been happening to him. Something told you that the inhuman amount of adrenaline that came with genetic enhancements weren't something he could always control. Something told you that it would present itself differently if it had nowhere else to go.

“Look at you,” you murmured. “You’re shaking.”

“I know,” he croaked, almost like he was ashamed of it. “I can’t—can’t stop. It’s like my body just—” He gasped as you rolled your hips down against his, and the breath punched out of him. “Please.”

That was the moment he snapped. Bob flipped you over before you could blink, hands fumbling with your waistband like he’d finally surrendered to everything he’d been holding back. His kisses grew sloppier, open-mouthed and hot, tasting every inch of skin he could reach. His whole body pressed down on you—solid, burning, trembling. “I need you,” he choked. “I need to be inside you. I need to feel you around me or I’m gonna lose my mind.”

You barely managed a nod, dazed and breathless under him. You’d never seen him like this. So undone, so needy, so determined. It had your heart hammering in your ears.

You barely got the word out before Bob was kissing you again—no rhythm, no finesse, just need. He couldn’t keep still; his hands were everywhere, trembling slightly as they shoved your shirt up, pushed your boxers down. Your cock popped out and met the cold air. You drew a breath in through clenched teeth. His mouth followed every inch of exposed skin like he was making up for lost time, leaving hot, wet kisses in his wake.

“God, you’re so warm,” he breathed, dragging his fingers down your thighs. “I’ve been thinking about this all fucking day. S'like I couldn’t breathe.” He looked at you like he was going to apologize for it. Like amidst his frantic, frenzied self, he wanted to be softer.

You tried to say something clever, something to tease—but the words melted into a moan when his fingers wrapped around your cock in a clumsy, reverent stroke. His palm was still a little rough from the bandage you’d just applied, but that didn’t stop him. If anything, it made it feel real. Like even through pain, he couldn’t not touch you. You bucked forward, hissing into his touch. You rolled your hips and relished in the feeling of his palm.

“Fuck, Bob.” Your chest rose up and down, breathing as though you couldn't.

Then he was pushing your legs up, spreading you open with a groan that sounded like it came from his bones. “Fuck, look at you,” he whispered, and you felt his fingers slide lower, teasing over your hole, already slick with your precum. He groaned again, lower this time, guttural. “You’re already—Fuck, you’re already so ready for me.”

He didn’t make you wait. One thick finger pushed in, slow but steady, and he watched you with wide, fascinated eyes as you took him. Then another. His breath hitched when your walls clenched down, when your back arched, when you whispered his name like it was the only one you knew.

“Right there,” you murmured, and he sounded almost awed. “That's it, keep going.”

You clenched again, and he laughed, nervous, wrecked, head falling forward against your knee. “Is that good?”

You groaned. “Yeah, it's fucking good.”

He felt his face heat up, his ears practically ringing. He pushed deeper, slow and careful, the pressure steady but manageable. His free hand gripped your thigh, thumb digging in, grounding himself while he opened you up. One finger became two. He worked you loose, stretching you with deliberate intent, pausing every so often to murmur something breathless, how good you felt, how perfect you were, how he couldn’t wait any longer.

“There, is that good?” he asked again, needing to hear you. Needing to get something amidst your pleasure-filled sounds. Needing to know how he made you feel.

“Yes.” Your head lolled to the side. “Yes, Bob, keep going.”

“Am I doing good?” He was breathless himself, his cock wet and throbbing under his pants. “Baby, tell me, please.”

“Yes, Bob—fuck.” Your eyes fluttered shut. “You're being good. You're being a fucking good boy. And you'll be even better when you fuck me.” Your hips jerked without meaning to.

He made a needy sound. You lifted your head up just to watch as he frantically undid his pants and shoved them down to his thighs. You used your foot to pull his soaked boxers down, revealing his pink, pulsing cock. You felt your heart leap. You looked up at him and met his glazed eyes, grinning with a hunger that no one else could satisfy. You inched yourself further up your bed and he followed, crawling over you, covering your body.

“Baby,” he whined.

“I know.” Your hand met his curls and tugged, the other braced against his shoulder. “I know, Bobby. Go ahead. Come on, fuck me.”

Bob shuddered. He lined himself up and pushed in slowly, hips shaking, both hands on your waist like he needed to hold you down or he might fall apart. You were tight. The stretch was intense, and it pulled a groan from his chest, guttural and wrecked.

“Shit, shit,” he hissed through his teeth. “You feel so good. Fuck.” His damp hair fell over your face.

He bottomed out and paused, forehead against your shoulder, chest rising and falling in uneven bursts. You could feel every inch of him pulsing inside you, twitching with restraint. Then he moved. He started slow, just enough to make you whimper, then picked up pace fast—every thrust hard, deep, slamming into you like he needed to bury something that’d been clawing at him from the inside. He was sweating, panting, swearing under his breath. Your bed creaked with the urgency of his movements.

You felt every drag, every slap of skin against skin. The way your body rocked with each snap of his hips. The way he gripped your thighs like he was afraid he’d wake up and this would be gone.

“Not gonna last,” he gasped, voice catching on a moan. “Can’t—can’t hold back—”

“Don’t,” you whispered, fingers digging into his shoulders, leaving scratch marks for him to marvel at in the morning. “Don’t hold back. You've been waiting all day, remember?”

Bob hissed. “I love you,” he whispered, voice cracking. “God, I fucking love you—”

He thrust once more, then again, rougher this time, before letting go with a loud, desperate moan. You grabbed his face, kissed him hard, swallowed the sound he made when he finally lost it—hips jerking, cock buried deep as he came with a desperate cry. You felt him spill inside you, hot and thick, his body trembling from head to toe as he gasped through it. For a moment, all you could hear was the sound of your breathing. The wet, ragged noise of two people completely undone.

Bob collapsed onto you, still inside, mouth open against your throat, whispering something low and broken you couldn’t quite make out. He was still panting against your shoulder, body flushed and trembling, but you were still hard. Flushed, throbbing, aching with need. He felt it, too. The way your cock pressed against his stomach, slick and twitching, silently begging.

“Shit,” he breathed, lifting his head to look down at you, dazed but suddenly very aware. “I didn’t—fuck, you didn’t...”

You quirked a brow, already smirking a little despite how wrecked you felt. “Yeah, no. You’re not done ‘til I’m done.”

That got a breathless laugh out of him—and then he was moving again, slipping out of you carefully before dragging himself down your body with the kind of reverence that didn’t match the filth in his eyes. His mouth hovered just above your cock, lips parted, breath hot. “I got you,” he whispered.

Then he wrapped his lips around you. No teasing. No slow build-up. He took you in, as much as he could handle, one hand wrapped around the base, the other braced against your thigh. His mouth was warm, wet, and a little sloppy from the urgency of it all. It made your spine arch right off the bed.

“Fuck—Bob, shit—”

He moaned around you like he liked hearing that, tongue swirling around the head before sinking back down again. His cheeks hollowed with every suck, and the tension that had been building all night roared right back with a vengeance. Your hand slid into his hair, fingers curling against the messy brown strands. He let you guide the rhythm, moving faster when you tugged, groaning when your hips gave an involuntary thrust. He didn’t pull back, didn’t flinch. He took it like he wanted it, and he did.

You were close. So close. Your thighs tensed, breath caught, and when your voice broke on a curse, he knew.

He moaned again, dragging his tongue along the underside just right. You came with a shudder, spilling into his mouth, gasping his name through grit teeth. Bob kept going, swallowing everything you gave him, mouth still working you through it until you were twitching from overstimulation and pushing weakly at his shoulder.

He finally pulled off with a wet gasp, licking his lips and blinking up at you like a man who’d just survived something holy.

You looked at him through the gathering tears in your eyes. You were still catching your breath when Bob settled back into the bed beside you, arm draped over your waist, his face half-buried in the crook of your neck. You could feel the smile on his lips—smug little thing—like he was proud of himself for completely ruining you and now planned to nap there like a satiated beast.

You let the silence hang for a second. Let the warmth of him settle over you like a weighted blanket. And then, you turned to him, whispering, “Put it back in.”

Bob raised his brows at you, eyes drooping like he was already half-asleep. “Hm?”

You kissed his forehead, making his nose wrinkle. “I wanna fall asleep like that. Feels nice.”

He didn't argue. And even if he did, he knew he would never deny you. He kissed your shoulder, murmured something about you being the death of him, and shifted your positions to ease himself back inside you. Slow and careful this time. The fit was perfect. Warm, full, grounding. His arms held you, anchoring you in the dark. You sighed, your back against his chest, body soft and boneless now, every ache lulled by the heavy comfort of him being right there—in you, around you, with you.

“Hey,” you called, making him hum in response. “Next time you're horny, just say that. Saves me the gauze.”

He giggled, soft and shy, burying his face further into the back of your neck. “I love you,” he mumbled against your skin.

You smiled. “I love you too.”

You didn’t fall asleep right away. Not with Bob pressed so close, his hand rested just under your ribs, rising and falling with your breath. Content. Sated. But behind you, you could still feel the occasional twitch of his hips—tiny, involuntary movements like his body hadn’t quite gotten the message that the night was over.

You stared at the ceiling, blinking slow. You made a mental note.

Enhanced genetics appear to correlate with elevated stamina. Observe: insatiable. Serial. Fucking. Needs. Suggested course of treatment: rest, hydration, and a muzzle.

You sighed. Loudly. Not that it stopped the man behind you from nosing into your hair like he hadn’t just used you as his own personal stress relief. You turned your head to look at him, his sleeping face, his perfect lashes, his perfect nose. “Yeah,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him. “I love you, too.”

[d1xonss]

Rules were Meant to be Broken

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : No Apocalypse AU

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff / a tiny bit of angst

✧ Word Count : 4.3k

AN ~ Hiii I haven't done a one of these in a hot minute so I'm excited! This was requested a little while ago through anon, and you can click here to read the details of what this oneshot entails. I've never written a young Daryl before so it was fun to try something new. And don't hate me, but I sort of left this at a cliffhanger, so let me know if you guys would want a part 2!

Hope you enjoy! xoxox

You sighed tiredly, forcing yourself to stay awake to try and finish the assignment that was laying on your desk before you. The words on the paper were mocking in a way. Knowing that you had put it off until the last minute and were now paying every possible price of staying up later to get it done as it was due first thing in the morning. Graduation couldn’t come fast enough it seemed like.

School always felt like a crushing weight on your shoulders all throughout your life. A constant pressure and expectation to always excel in everything you did despite how tiring it all was at times. Still, you pushed yourself constantly, feeling an unbearable need to please everyone around you and to prove to yourself that you could always do better. But every once and a while, it was nice to have some kind of distraction.

Though suddenly you were broken out of your thoughts when you heard the sound of a small tapping coming from the outside of your bedroom window. At first you brushed it off, assuming it was your foggy mind playing tricks on you, but then you heard it again. And again. Until finally you peeled yourself away from your chair to open the curtains and find the source of the noise. Only to see Daryl Dixon crouching on his knees in front of you. Your boyfriend.

It was a complicated relationship to say the least, not because there was anything wrong with what the two of you had. But because…your dad didn’t exactly approve. 

Even though you were almost a legal adult, the thought of you going out with the rough, redneck, high school dropout didn’t sit too well with Rick Grimes. He didn’t believe the boy was good enough for you, though not in an overprotective way. But in the way where he truly believed he would never be able to provide for you, never be able to give you what you truly deserved. That, and he was also a terrible influence on you. Ever since you had met, you had skipped school, stayed out way past curfew, and had also tried smoking a cigarette. That there was the final straw.

After your dad had picked up on all the trouble you had been getting into, he had no choice but to forbid you from seeing the Dixon boy ever again. Though clearly…that new rule wasn’t working out too well. It just made you more sneaky if anything.

You smiled brightly upon seeing the unexpected visitor, quickly unlocking and opening up the window just enough so you could stick your head out. “What’re you doing here?” you whispered.

He didn’t answer you. Instead he leaned in and cupped your face, pressing his lips to yours in a soft yet heated kiss, clearly missing you from just the few days you two had been apart. Ever since he had quit going to school it wasn’t often that you had the chance to see each other as much as you used to; but Daryl always found the time. Eventually he found the strength to pull away, still letting it linger for as long as possible before he looked at you with a small smile.

You blinked a few times, still feeling a bit flustered as you stared up at him dreamily, “Hi…��

“Hi,” he repeated with a small chuckle, “Come on.”

Your head tilted a little, “What?”

“Come on,” he nodded back toward where his rusty beat-up truck was parked in the street. “Come sneak out with me.”

“Oh, no I can’t. Not tonight.” He gave you a look that screamed he didn’t believe you. “No, really I have this big assignment due tomorrow and I’m not even halfway done with it. Plus, the last time I snuck out with you we almost got caught again.”

Daryl shrugged, “That’s what makes it fun.”

You rolled your eyes though you couldn’t help but laugh a little, “Daryl…”

“Come on,” he tried to gently coax again, “Quit bein a nerd for a while and just spend the night with me.”

Your eyes narrowed a little when he called you that, knowing it was slightly true with how much time you put into your school work. But you couldn’t stay annoyed with him for long. He knew all the ways to butter you up.

“I’ll get you a slushie from the gas station. One of them coca-cola ones you like so much.” 

A slow smile was brought to your face at the mention of the sweet drink you always favored, and it did sound good right about now. That distraction you were oh so conveniently thinking of earlier seemed to fall right into your lap. Even though you knew you had to be responsible, you couldn’t help but want to spend every waking moment with him. After all, you were young and in love. His bribe eventually caused you to crack as you quickly slipped on a pair of shoes, before hoisting yourself up to climb through the window, making sure to leave it open just a little for when you came back home.

Hand in hand, the two of you ran through the grass and toward his vehicle so you could make a fast and dramatic getaway, laughing all the while he started it up and raced down the street. 

It was nights like these you loved the most, almost as if you were running away from your day to day life to just get out and be at peace with him wherever he decided to take you. Despite what others might think by looking at the two of you, he treated you with the utmost respect and care, feeling like his presence alone was a safe haven. Even though you knew of the things he had been through, his family life and the many tragedies that came along right with it, he was so gentle with you. Like he wanted to hand you the world on a platter, give you everything that he never had. How could you not be head over heels?

It was hard at first getting him to trust you, getting him used to affection and your words of affirmation as he was clearly not used to anything of the sort. But you were always patient with him through it all, watching him let his walls down one by one as time went by. Listening to him when he wanted to talk about his asshole of a brother, to comforting him after yet another fight with his dad. He didn’t talk much during those times. But you were still there if he wanted to. And after realizing that you truly weren’t going anywhere, he became the biggest softie in the world.

“So,” his voice broke you out of your thoughts, “I figured we could stock up on some snacks and head down to the river? There’s this new spot I wanna show ya.”

You nodded in agreement with a small smile, always favoring that specific place considering it was so far out of town. It was so quiet and peaceful out there compared to how it was in the city, a stark contrast of what you were always used to with life moving so fast. But out there, you felt you could just be.

After stopping by the gas station as promised, Daryl began the drive a bit further toward the countryside, having the route memorized by now with how much time he spent out there in the woods. His hand instinctively reached for yours over the center console, giving it a gentle squeeze before raising it up to his mouth to leave a gentle kiss along your knuckles. He felt relief and comfort in your presence, leaning his cheek against your fingers while his thumb traced over your skin soothingly. The quiet rock music playing from his busted radio was the only filler noise needed.

Once you two had finally made it to the designated destination, you came to realize why he had brought you here in the first place. The spot he had conveniently picked had a perfect view of the many stars and constellations, the calming sound of the water only adding to the tranquility you desired. And your usual routine was always the same, the both of you would just bitch about life. Life and whatever wicked curveballs it threw at you, sharing a cigarette that Daryl always provided, and if he was lucky, you’d make out. He’d consider himself to be even luckier if you allowed his hands to wander.

“How long before yer dad finds out yer gone?” he asked with a light chuckle, taking a chip from the bag to pop into his mouth.

You let out a small breath at even the possibility of him catching you, “Let’s just hope he doesn’t at all.”

Daryl scoffed, “Come on, you know he watches out for ya like a hawk. Ain’t much gets past him.”

“You don’t have to talk him up, he’s not here you know.” you joked.

He chuckled again and his gaze lingered on you for a few beats, seeming to assess the situation like he had done many times before. You knew that look all too well, the insecurity behind his eyes that wouldn’t seem to vanish no matter how much you wanted it too. That was another thing he did; he got in his head far too much.

“He still don’t like me, huh?”

You shook your head, scooting closer to him, “No, don’t say that. He just…doesn’t know you.”

“He does,” he gently argued, “He deals with assholes like me on a daily basis, m’ sure I can figure out why he don’t want me around his daughter.”

“Well…then why do you always want to see me?” you asked knowingly as you leaned in closer to his face.

He smirked, “Cause…” he trailed off, feeling a bit embarrassed still to admit the deep affections he felt for you. Almost like he didn’t want to say it out loud as if it would jinx his sudden luck.

“Come on…say it.”

You watched him roll his eyes, “Cause m’ in love with ya, alright? There.”

A bright smile wormed its way onto your face, leaning in closer to kiss his cheek over and over while your hand held his face in place as you showered him with gentleness. He scoffed at your antics but made no effort to push you away, silently relishing in your touch that he could never seem to get enough of. He had never been shown such a thing in all his life, always being lectured about tough love and taking things like a man, to not wear his emotions on his sleeve. And he had to remind himself time and time again that with you, things were different.

Eventually he turned his head to capture your lips on a proper kiss, raising his own hand to the back of your neck to pull you even closer to him. Feeling the warmth radiating off of you. You allowed him to deepen the kiss for a moment, his mouth slotting perfectly with your own before you slowly broke it off to speak again.

“Don’t worry about any of that, okay? I’m here because I want to be…so don’t go thinking otherwise.”

Daryl looked at you for a lingering moment before nodding his head, the familiar small smirk returning to his face, “Maybe we should elope someday to really stick it to the man.”

You raised your free hand to cover his mouth as you let out a small laugh, “Quit talking like that.”

He chuckled against your palm when it suddenly enveloped his mouth, taking the opportunity to stick his tongue out and lick your skin which caused you to immediately pull away with a gasp. “Ew! Daryl!” 

His amusement only grew further upon hearing your protest, leaning in close again to begin to playfully kiss and nip at the skin on your neck. He figured that was a good enough distraction to steer the conversation away from your father even though he was the one to bring it up. He didn’t want to think about it too long, not when he had a limited amount of time with you.

You giggled infectiously, “Hey, wait a second. I wanted to talk to you about something else.”

Daryl pulled back almost instantly, looking a bit worried when you said you wanted to talk. To him that could never lead to anything good. But you quickly shook your head, “It’s nothing bad, don’t worry,” you reassured, “Just…promise not to roll your eyes.”

Now he was very confused, but nonetheless he nodded, “Alright, yeah. I promise.”

“Okay,” you sighed as you prepared yourself to bring up the topic. You had been meaning to discuss it for a while with the event seemingly just around the corner now. But with him making the comment about eloping then brought the idea of proposals. And there was a certain proposal you had been anticipating to hear.

“So…prom’s coming up.” you hinted hesitantly.

That was all he needed to hear before he was rolling his eyes, unable to stop himself it seemed like. You gently smacked his arm, “Hey, you promised.”

“M’ sorry, I just…” he scoffed, “I don’t see the point in goin is all. That stupid shit is too damn overhyped.”

“Maybe it is, but it’s my senior year and I haven’t gone to a single dance.” you tried, “All of my friends are going with dates and I don’t want to be the only one left out.”

He sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face, clearly not too keen on going to any kind of preppy school activities. Especially since he knew if he did attend, he would never hear the end of it from his friends. “I doubt they’d even let me step foot in that place after I dropped out. The situation wasn’t exactly pretty.”

You gave him a look, “It’s not going to be at the school, they rented a nice place. And besides I don’t think they’ll hold a grudge if we just pop in for a couple hours.”

“Hours??”

“Okay, okay, just one hour I promise.” you raised your hands in surrender, “We can drink the spiked punch, take some stupid pictures in the photo booth, dance for one song, and then we can leave.”

Daryl narrowed his eyes a little as he scanned your expression, going back and forth in his head for what felt like a lifetime. What he really wanted was to spend time with you, but not in a crowded room with blasting music filled with a bunch of people he didn’t care for. In fact he couldn’t think of anything worse. But just that one pleading look in your eyes was enough for his defenses to crack.

You smiled sweetly, holding your hands up as if you were praying, “Please…?”

A low grumble of reluctance was pulled from him, no longer able to stand your pouty lip, “Fine…I’ll take ya.”

He watched your face instantly light up at his acceptance, squealing in excitement as you wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. And despite not loving the idea, he couldn’t help but smile at how eager you became, knowing he was doing it all just to make you happy. And if that meant dancing with you at prom like some sappy romantic comedy, he would do it in a heartbeat just to see you smile like that again.

“But I ain’t gonna wear no tux.”

You laughed a little, pulling away just enough to look at him, “I figured you’d say that, and you don’t have to. Just dress nice…ish.”

He hummed, “Yeah, guess I ain’t gettin away with showin up in a shirt and jeans, hm?”

“No, definitely not.” you said with a shake of your head, brushing some of his hair away from his face, “But I don’t know…I kinda like the idea of seeing you a little dressed up.”

“A button down shirt and pants is bout as good as yer gonna get, baby.”

Your smile widened, loving when he called you that, “Deal.”

A smirk crossed his face when he spotted the blush rising to your cheeks, a noise of satisfaction escaping him as he shifted you onto his lap, his hands holding onto your hips. “You got anything else you wanna tell me?”

You leaned forward just as he did, your noses brushing together as both of your intentions were clear, “I love you...”

He smiled, “I love you too.” he spoke before leaning in to close the remaining distance between you, kissing you with a deep sense of passion. Apparently, tonight he was lucky.

The two of you hadn’t realized how much time had passed as you stayed out by that river for hours you were sure, no longer caring about the responsibilities waiting for you back home. No longer caring about the classes you had to attend the next morning or the paper you had yet to finish. Perhaps your dad was right in a way, maybe he was a bad influence on you. But he made you feel free.

It was just nearing four in the morning by the time the truck had pulled back up to your house, the clock on the dashboard of the vehicle only making you realize just how long you were lost in a bliss of happiness. Time really did fly after all. Especially when someone as hot as him was doting on you endlessly, it was enough to make your head fuzzy. And now with him not wanting you to leave just made it all the more harder to get out of the vehicle.

You pulled back for air despite his quiet protests, “Okay, I have to go.” you said for what felt like the millionth time.

“No, no, just a few more minutes.” he pleaded softly as he pulled you back down to his lips, plunging his tongue into your mouth to silence you.

You whimpered a little when he kissed you again, feeling his hands slide back under your shirt to try and unhook your bra. You then laughed at his obvious antics, gently biting down on his bottom lip to get him to suddenly halt his movements, hearing him groan softly at the slight sting and your tongue soothing the pain a moment later.

“I really have to go.” you muttered against his lips, leaving one last parting kiss, “It’s so late.”

“Nah, really it’s early if ya think about it.” he said before leaning up to try and steal another from you. But you quickly dodged it with a small laugh, stumbling a bit to get off his lap and out the passenger’s side before he kept you here all night.

“Aye,” he called quietly just before you could shut the door, “I’ll call ya.”

You nodded eagerly with a smile before closing it with a soft click, turning around swiftly to rush back toward your window. Praying to get at least a few hours of sleep despite the adrenaline running through your veins. Though you attempted to be quiet upon entering back through the small space, you tripped and slid a few times, almost like you forgot how much of a struggle it was to get back inside. Clearly there was some sort of small decline that you always forgot about. With a breath of relief you shut the window delicately once you had landed on the familiar shag carpet of your room, feeling just a little too proud that you had managed to get away with staying out nearly all night. 

Though when you turned around, that high you once felt seemed to plummet faster than you ever expected.

An exaggerated gasp of shock left you when you saw your dad sitting on the edge of your bed, clearly anticipating your arrival for who knows how long. And his scowl was one that could shake the earth.

Your hand came up to rest over your now racing heart, trying to catch your breath from the sudden fright he had given you. “God…you scared me.” you whispered.

“I scared you?” he clapped back without missing a beat, the anger in his tone was crackling.

You had messed up big time, you knew you did. Which was why you couldn’t think of any other plausible response other than a quiet, “I’m sorry…”

He then stood up abruptly, “Where the hell were you?”

You sputtered like a damn fish, opening and closing your mouth to try and think of some kind of believable excuse, “I…I was-”

“Don’t even think about lying to me now,” he said harshly, yet still mindful of his volume in the quietness of the house, “Tell me where you’ve been. Right now.”

A defeated sigh left you, not being able to look him in the eye any longer, “I was…out at the river.”

“Alone?”

“No…no, not alone.” you answered vaguely, still keeping your eyes glued to your shoes. It was obvious he already knew, he just for some reason wanted you to admit it.

Rick folded his arms over his chest and his hands still shook with how furious he grew. Even after everything you had done in the past, this was a new all time low that he couldn’t bring himself to understand. Disappointment didn’t even begin to describe it.

“You were with that punk, weren’t you?” he pressed, really putting his interrogation skills to use.

It was then your gaze panned up to him, his words condescending and cruel to your ears, “That punk has a name, you know.”

“I don’t think you want to take that tone with me right now.” he warned lowly.

“No,” you said stubbornly, “No, this is all such bullshit.”

His eyes widened at your foul language, “Excuse me?” he asked, raising his tone slightly as the fire inside him burned hotter.

“I know I messed up, okay? I know.” you said a bit louder as well, your throat tightening with emotion, “I know I could’ve gotten hurt, or worse, or whatever the hell you always say. But the rest of this whole thing- it’s not fair! I should be allowed to love whoever I want to love. And you just took one look at him and decided to hate him before you ever even tried to know who he really is.”

“I don’t need to know him.” Rick snapped harshly, “I couldn’t give less of a damn what his favorite slipknot song is to know that he’s nothing but trouble. And as I remember, I told you I didn’t want you seeing him anymore, and you deliberately went behind my back and broke all the rules I set in place! All the rules that keep you safe.”

You sucked in a soft breath at his harsh tone, your head beginning to pound with exhaustion and frustration, but the bottom line was you knew he was right. To an extent anyway. You had screwed up in an unimaginable way but at the same time it was you who made the decision to go behind your father’s back. It wasn’t like Daryl held a gun to your head to force you out of the house, you willingly went because you wanted to. Because you would rather be with him in some way than no way at all.

Your hand came up to run through your hair as you attempted to gather your thoughts, “I get it, what I did was wrong and I told you I was sorry. And I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it, but…don’t blame him for something I chose to do.”

Rick’s jaw clenched, “Who’s idea was it to sneak outta here?” You faltered, not knowing exactly how to answer. “Who’s idea was it for you to skip your classes? Or smoke a cigarette, or-”

“Jesus Christ, did he start global warming too?” you asked sarcastically.

“(Y/N).” he warned again.

You scoffed, “I’m sorry, but my God dad, you act like he’s the antichrist or something. But he’s not,” you whispered almost desperately, “If you would just try-”

He raised a hand to stop you from speaking, “No, that’s not how this works. I’m the parent, I’m the one who gets to call the shots, and right now I’m telling you to get comfortable in this room because you won’t be leaving it for a while. You will go to school and come straight home for the rest of the semester. No more friends, no more phone, nothing.”

Your eyes widened, “What? Dad-”

“No,” he interrupted you again, “You’re done, you’re out of chances. I’m not dealing with this anymore, and if I ever catch you with that boy again you best pray I don’t have my shotgun. Now, go to bed.” he commanded before turning on his heel to leave the room, slamming the door slightly behind him.

You flinched slightly at the sound that ricocheted off the walls, your hands coming up to cover your face as you finally allowed yourself to cry. Wondering how such a great night had turned so sour in a matter of minutes. Your dad’s voice replayed in your head over and over again like a busted record, the weight of them settling in now that he was gone, leaving the room oddly silent. Granted he was overexaggerating about the gun thing, everything else was set in stone and you were made well aware of it.

But one thing you weren’t aware of, were the tears stinging Rick’s eyes as he stalked through the house and back upstairs to rest his own head. Feeling guilty for the way he hurt you, though at the end of the day he knew it was all for your own good. After all, how much could that “punk” really care about you anyway?

~ Thanks for reading!

[cheriladycl01]

When at work - Lando Norris x UniStudent! Reader

Plot: Lando has known you since you were born, literally childhood friends. You went to every karting weekend with him until he started to travel more. As childhood lovers who have been dating for 8 years what happens when the general public find out about you?

You'd known Lando since you were born just two years after him, and so until Year 4 when you excelled in your academics you were a school year behind him, you were moved up a year to his year. You followed him to the karting tracks when you were little being his biggest supporter and if you go back and look at interviews you'll always be spotted talking animatedly to his family about the race.

You had very strict parents about schooling and they wouldn't let you miss any days off, you could go to karting with Lando, after school or on the weekends but you couldn't take days off school for his races.

"Mum please! I want to go support him!" you cried when she told you that you couldn't have the day off to go watch Lando kart in one of his first proper championship races.

"No Y/N, Lando has found something he is good at... you are a smart girl and school is where you should be!" you mum had refused, smiling at you sadly.

"Dad?" you cried looking over at your dad, who would normally say yes to any request you had, especially if it involved Lando and his dad Adam, as they were friends.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry but I'll have to agree with your mum on this one" he sighs pulling you into a hug. Those days at school that Lando wasn't there were lonely to say the least, Lando's friends wouldn't hang out with you if it was only you and you didn't have any of friends.

Eventually Lando quit school when he got to British Formula three, there he made lots of new friends including Max, who he introduced to you. You would miss Lando in school, and tried to branch out to make new friends but nothing felt as close as the bond you shared with Lando.

"Y/N, this is my friend Max I met him in karting" he smiles pulling you closer to Max.

"Erm, hi" you had smiled shyly at Max, who smiled back at you. With Max it felt like he was genuinely interested in getting to know you unlike Lando's school friends who just sort of acknowledged your existence because of Lando.

You and Max of course made fast friends after this.

This was 2015, and he asked you there and then to be his girlfriend. At first you laughed and said no, because you thought he was joking and one of the boys from karting had dared him as a cruel joke. But after lots of groveling on his behalf you said yes.

In 2016, you managed to exceed in your GCSE'S getting 6 A* to B grades. Lando had come just to celebrate with you. The next year you did the last of your GCSE's getting 7 more A* - B grades making you come out with 13 GCSE's in total. Lando had come to celebrate with you, while you had gone to celebrate with him that he had won the Formula 3 championship.

He of course, was promoted to Formula 2 for the 2018 season and became a test and reserve driver for Mclaren, which made you so proud because this was his way of being able to get into Formula One. You went on to do your Alevel-s, which were Maths, Physics, Design and Technology and Law. You were now just turned 17 and looking at universities you could go to, and looking at what degree you wanted to go into.

He came second in Formula 2, just behind the other British Racing Driver George Russell. And was promoted to F1 for the 2019 Season and would be in his rookie season.

Halfway through his first season which had gone pretty well with only 2 DNF's and him coming 6th highest, you'd finished your exams and had got offers back from all 5 universities you'd applied to. It was sad really, you'd applied to the University of Surry and University of Royal Holloway just to be near the Mclaren Technology Centre so you could be closer to Lando in the off season.

You'd ended up choosing Cambridge University in the end and spend the rest of your summer until the end of September travelling to races with Lando, you went with his Dad, having his other spare pass. You saw him in Monaco, Canada, France, Austria, Silverstone, Germany and Hungry before you spent the summer break in Greece together along with Max. Then you came with him to Belgium, Italy and Singapore before you had to go home to move into student accommodation.

As a rookie there wasn't too much focus on Lando, but when a girl was spotted with him in the paddock for 10 races, people had questions. After they did some digging they worked out that you were childhood friends with Lando and you were in his older and definitely cringier Instagram pictures, and they checked his tagged photos which led them to your account that he was following.

Luckily it was private but you were shocked at the influx of follow requests.

Rumors spread and people deducted that you must be his girlfriend. It made you nervous but Lando promised to go at your pace.

Your first year of university was cut short, everything went into lockdown, and you were alone in your little dorm room with 5 other housemates. It was a month until you finished all your exams online, and made the decision to travel to Lando's to live with him.

You ended up staying with him for the whole lockdown, and then travelling around with him for the whole of the 2020 season. You managed to do this while studying as your campus was shut for the whole of 2020 and most of 2021. You had an amazing second year grade passing with a 92 overall school having a 1st in your second year. So when 2021 came around you'd applied for Formula One internships so you could keep travelling around with Lando and almost all of them as they already knew you accepted you, you had a difficult time deciding who to go with.

Eventually you went with Red Bull, of course Lando had made jokes about how betrayed he felt, but was happy for you being in a top constructor. You joined them for the 2021 Azerbaijan GP, on the 6th of June you were there for 17 races in 2021 and learnt so much from the team.

You spent until September 2022 with them having major input on the build of the 2022 Red Bull to the point Christian Horner ask for you to be shown on the Instagram. 14 races you spend with them and it was a wild ride before you had to go back to University for your final year.

At this point you and Lando had been together for 7 years strong now. People worked out how long you'd been together a while ago and it had really shocked them. They expected you to be engaged and ... well they weren't far off.

He proposed to you in the winter break of 2022 on a ski holiday he'd taken you on. All of your's and his family were there too see and it was beyond magical. You were going into the 2023 season with a Fiancé and your soulmate.

You let your Instagram go public during this time, the fans had been asking for more content from you. You appeared on streams, and Lando always posted you on his accounts. Now it was time for them to go and stalk you account, instantly people went back through your photos finding old pictures from when you and Lando were younger and then the more recent pictures that everyone thought were cute.

Now Lando had gone back to racing and you were starting revision for exams that would happen in May.

However, you didn't tell Lando, that money was getting a bit tight. You'd always been funny when it came to how much Lando earned and how he always insisted that you lived rent free with him and to not worry about it. So at the start of 2023, towards the end of your degree you got a little side job as a barista in an independent coffee shop.

Lando of course being busy now that it was the start of the 2023 season and he had a new rookie team mate to meet, he was none the wiser.

It was just a typical day at the coffee shop when you were with your colleague, making yourself a drink when a girl and her friend came in.

"Oh my gosh, your Y/N!" a voice says making you look up, you smile happily not thinking much off it because you were wearing a name badge so you assumed she got it from there.

"Yes, hello how can I help you today!" you ask politely stopping making your drink and walking over to the till.

"You're Y/N Lando Norris Fiancé right?" she asks and your mouth drops open in shock. You had been noticed around the paddock, of course you had... but this was the first time someone had come to you in public.

"Ah yes I am!" you smile shyly. The interaction was relatively normal, you served them their drinks and made conversation with them before having to go back and serve more customers.

You didn't notice them take pictures and videos of you interacting and serving customers, which of course made their way onto social media. Suddenly and influx of customers came, which was strange for a Tuesday afternoon.

As well as the influx of customers you had people come in with cameras, starting to take pictures.

"Y/N what is happening all of these people are asking for you" Rhianne your co-worker asks and that's when the blender turns off and you can hear people calling your name.

They were fans of F1.

"Hey Y/N Lando deserves better than you"

"Y/N why are you working minimum wage when you have a boyfriend with a net worth of over 10 mil"

"Y/N break up with Lando"

"Oh my god, how did they all know this is where I work" you say asking your colleague not sure what to even do.

"Okay, let's get you out the back. Call the police and I'll try keep up with orders" She says pushing you towards the exit, the staff room was on the other side of the shop so you were going to have to tackle your way through the mound of people.

Eventually after people shoving phones in your face and grabbing at your wrist. You manage to get into the staff area and lock the door. You were crying as you called the police, who said they'd send bodies to you immediately.

After you hung up, your phone started to ring and Lando's face popped up.

"Hi baby" you say trying to sound like your not crying. Your camera was facing up so he couldn't see you.

"Y/N show me where you are right now. I swear to god, if what I'm seeing on twitter is true" he huffs out making you pan down the camera to show the back room you were in. He was in Australia right now and had heard from Oscar that you were trending on twitter and looked scared.

"Are you safe?" he asks worried, making you burst into tears. You could suddenly feel everyone's hands back on you and your breathing goes shallow.

"Mmm, I had to call the police there was so many people" you cry, wiping your tears.

"Baby, I'm so sorry. Look after Australia, I'm coming to you okay! Why the fuck didn't you ask me if you needed money" he asks looking at you with that disappointed look you hated.

"Lando, you know how i feel about that" you say.

"Baby, your still in Uni. You shouldn't have to work. Do you parents know?" he asks, and you shake you head.

"Hey Y/N! How are you?" Oscar asks coming into view of the camera.

"I'm okay Oscar, I cant wait to meet you next week!" You smile at him, blinking away the tears that were still trying to come out.

"Oh, I think the police are here, but I'll call you when I'm home!" you say hearing a knock at the door.

"Ask them to take you home. You shouldn't walk round the streets alone! I love you darling" Lando sighs.

"I love you too Lando, thank you!"

A/N: I feel like this isn't very good, I'm sorry this feels like its so info dumpy and not much fluff!!

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle

[evangelical04]

A Single Daffodil || Valentine's Day Special

Summary: Spending Valentine's Day alone can be a little embarrassing, a lot self-deprecating. But maybe, it won't be so bad this year.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: PG

Word Count: 4.1K

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: maybe some angst?? not really, it's pretty fluffy

Author's Note: hi everyone! hope you don't mind getting tagged for just a special lol. i thought it'd be fun to post something for valentine's day (especially because i don't have any plans lol), so here it is! view this as an AU of sorts since they're in college, i wouldn't call it canon. it isn't super closely proofread so i'm sorry for any errors, i just wanted to get this posted today!! hope you guys enjoy!!

TAGLIST CLOSED [follow asingledaffodil tag for all notifications]

@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandyrecs @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling @themwordsblog @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @kimmalik @pastelpeachess @captainchrisstan @khaimahfe @kooklovee @whoa-jo @familiarlikemymirror3 @blueberriesm @llallaaa @purpleheartsandarock1 @lillmeowmeowsblog @this-most-assuredly-counts @kayleefriedchicken @ur-grandmum @sylviamuela @notarshia @minghaosimp @ilikekpop-c @maynina @rinkud @jesshujk @kimsaerom @suker4angst @mar-627 @maynina @pitchblack0309 @wobblewobble822 @praetae @yoongibaybee @weareatthebadlands

masterlist

The chilly air tickled your nose, making you stifle a sneeze. You could feel an itch scratching at the back of your throat, threatening a violent outburst and inciting a ‘bless you’ from the nearest passerby. Despite the cold winds nipping at your face, pressing small icicles like pinpricks against your cheeks, you trekked on. Midterms were approaching for some of your classes and you knew you weren’t going to get anything done at your apartment, not with Joohee shoving her way through the door with the latest sweet monstrosity she had concocted at the coffee shop across the street. 

Why was it still so cold? You knew it was only mid-February, but it felt unfair for you to still be able to see your breath and have to layer a jacket on top of your sweater on top of your long sleeve shirt. The headphones encasing your ear were your makeshift earmuffs, with the added bonus of soft and smooth jazz soothing your attitude. Finally, finally, you reached the other cafe near your place, tucked away between buildings and down stairs. You frequented the location often, finding their atmosphere more suited to your taste than Joohee’s favorite spot, it was quiet and serene, the lack of windows made time pass before you knew it. You loved it here.

As you walked past the counter, waving to the baristas who knew your face well by now, you set your stuff down at your regular table in the far corner, digging through your tote for your wallet. Triumphant, you approached the counter, placing an order for an iced tea, despite the icy weather, and treating yourself to one of their warm and savory sandwiches. After you’d collected your food, making your way back to your table, you allowed yourself a few minutes to enjoy your hot sandwich and contrasting iced tea. After this, you’d truly have to focus your whole attention. 

With only crumbs left on your plate and your tea halfway finished, you switched tabs in your laptop to your design project. You were only a third year, but your classes were already about building portfolios and perfecting your coding ability. You weren’t excited to resume working on your project, but you were thankful you had graduated from the classes where they had exams instead of projects. However thankful you had felt reading the syllabi vanished in the face of having to reset yet another bug in Maya, causing your camera to not follow the line you’d animated. More papers for your character design class weighed down your tote, only making you hunch over further in anticipation of the workload you had ahead of you. While you did enjoy this, you hoped you would be able to get into project management someday, you knew that’s where your organizational skills would shine. 

Only an hour had gone by of you sitting in the plush chair and ordering another drink, this time with a muffin, when the peaceful air in the cafe was disturbed. Three men had walked in, clad in joggers, sweatshirts, and casual looking khakis, with the tallest laughing loudly and smacking another man on the shoulder. You squinted, trying to get a better look at the laughing man, before realizing why he looked so familiar. 

Kim Seokjin was as boisterous as ever, his gap year last year proving to have only amplified his loud and extroverted presence. Joohee had complained to her parents that she hadn’t gotten to take a gap year to travel, but you knew she secretly had no interest in it, her days were too occupied with you and Hoseok. The man Seokjin had clapped on the shoulder was one you didn’t recognize, tan skin and short hair, round, wiry glasses slipping down his nose. He waved off Seokjin’s persistent hand attempting to ruffle his hair, before taking a seat at a table not far from you. When he shot Seokjin a fond smile, though, you were stunned by his deep dimples and crinkled eyes, he was certainly pretty. 

The last man, rather short compared to the other two, was another familiar face. Your eyes dragged across his bleach blonde hair, a new look for him, down his chubby, pale cheeks and pouty lips, before tracing his black sweatshirt, past his dark joggers, and sweeping over his white tennis shoes. Min Yoongi looked beautiful every time you saw him. Where you thought his bleach blonde hair, once a dark and natural black, would wash him out, it actually created a stunning contrast to his harsh glare from dark eyes. His upturned mouth curved a soft frown into his face, the occasional swipe of his tongue across dry lips making your eyes dart away. How he managed to look soft and dangerous at the same time was a wonder, but one you fully enjoyed. 

Okay, so maybe you were a bit head over heels for him considering the lack of conversation that you two had held, but that was the beauty of an unrequited crush. You could ogle and pine, glance and fantasize all you wanted without having the crushing weight of reality fall down upon you. You were fully self-aware of your infatuation and the dim likelihood of your crush being returned, but you were okay with that, or so you told yourself. 

It wasn’t as though you hadn’t tried to pursue other options, but they hadn’t worked out. Mina’s disappointed expression still burned in your memory, and it was a solid reason as to why you hadn’t explored outside further. Unrequited love was easier, there was no expectation of reciprocation, the untouchableness of your object of affection was comforting, you could confidently like him from afar. Did it hurt when you saw him with other people? Sure, but you liked to imagine that it hurt less because you never expected anything in the first place. 

Seokjin’s booming voice snapped you from your thoughts, and you instead watched them place their orders at the register. You wondered what each one would order based on their appearances. Seokjin was probably ordering a seasonal holiday special, you could practically hear everything he was saying, and he was asking for extra blackberry syrup. The tall man behind him, the one you didn’t know, seemed like a hot cappuccino kind of guy. The air around him screamed elegant academic and you could imagine him sipping from a steaming ceramic cup while writing an award winning research paper. Yoongi, though, you weren’t sure, you didn’t know him that well. A black coffee, no milk, no sugar? An americano? It was hard to place which of the bitter, dark roast drinks he’d enjoy the most. 

You turned away, what would you know anyway? It wasn’t your business. You had no connection to them, you had you remind yourself of that. Focusing your attention back on the dull grey of the Maya UI had you almost groaning out loud. You wished you could be doing anything else.

The constant chattering in Yoongi’s ear was beginning to get grating. He was trying his best to focus on studying for his upcoming finance exam, but it was proving to be impossible with Jin blabbering away about something or other. He’d stopped actually paying attention a while ago, but Jin’s voice was difficult to tune out despite Yoongi’s best efforts. Namjoon seemed largely unaffected next to him, highlighting away in his handwritten notes. Despite Namjoon being a year younger, they were taking the same level of courses, and Yoongi was sure Namjoon was going to beat him at every turn in scores. 

Not that it mattered, Yoongi knew he had a position waiting for him at Min Enterprises, right under his father. He knew he should feel privileged, he was and he knew that, but he couldn’t help the seed of resentment that grew tall and thorny inside him. He had managed to sneak a few music courses into his schedule but his rat of an advisor had tattled on him to his father. It made sense, he supposed, his father was basically the one paying the advisor’s salary. It had left a sour taste in his mouth for what his future would look like, but Yoongi couldn’t outwardly complain. He knew his friends felt somewhat similarly, but it was dangerous to discuss things like that in this sort of social circle. Yoongi had learned the hard way that you didn’t know who was friend or foe until the knife was already lodged into your back, and Yoongi knew better than to make the same mistake twice. 

“I think that’s Joo’s friend over there, Y/N,” Seokjin mentioned offhandedly, Yoongi finally tuning back into his friend’s rambling, “Should we say hi?” Jin looked questioningly at Yoongi and Namjoon, only receiving blank stares in response. 

“I mean, I don’t know her,” Namjoon said bluntly, but kindly, “And I’m kind of in the zone right now.”

Jin pouted, turning to Yoongi with a hopeful gleam in his eye, only to be met with Yoongi’s resolute frown and small shake of his head. 

“I barely know her either,” Yoongi said, more matter-of-factly than anything, “And besides, who wants to be ambushed by their friend’s older brother while they’re trying to study.”

“You guys are no fun,” Jin complained, only receiving agreeing hums from both Yoongi and Namjoon. 

Yoongi turned his attention back to his laptop, seeing the words on the screen swim together. Finance was boring and difficult, and despite his troublemaker appearance, Yoongi tried his hardest in his classes. Even if he was going to be handed a position at Min Enterprises anyway, he could at least say that he’d earned his degree with his own perspiration and grit. 

That was easier said than done, though, and the only thing keeping Yoongi going right now was the 8 hour time slot he’d booked for one of the music school’s studios for him and Joon after exams. 

“Valentine’s day is soon,” Jin began, “Just a few days out, you two got any plans?”

Yoongi knew that Jin had a date with some girl from the nursing college and he was only asking them so he could eventually talk about his own plans. 

On Yoongi’s left, Namjoon shrugged, “I’m meeting this girl from one of my classes, she asked to get dinner that night.”

Jin wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“It’s just dinner,” Namjoon said, “I’m not really that interested in her, but I felt bad saying no.”

“Boring,” Jin sung, “What about you, Yoongs?”

Yoongi shot him a glare for the nickname but it bounced off of Jin’s bright demeanor, “I don’t have anything planned.”

Jin rolled his eyes before speaking once more, “Well, I have plans, and I’m going to tell you right now whether you want to hear or not.”

That was Yoongi’s cue to tune him out again, his mind drifting to the upcoming holiday. He’d had some Valentine’s dates before, one or two over the course of college, and he’d been inundated with sweet gifts during middle and high school, but he’d never had a sweet tooth. Yoongi wasn’t interested in romance right now, though, he was focused on making sure he’d graduate in a few months. Sex and love could wait until after that. 

Well, he supposed he didn’t have a reason to delay sex, but he was sorely lacking time at the moment. He split his days between studying, basketball (when it was warm enough), and any open slots he could find at the studio. There was barely any time for dates or one night stands. He’d waited this long, he could wait another few months until he graduated and had evenings to himself. 

Listening to Jin go on and on about how pretty this girl was, though, did make him feel just the tiniest bit lonely.

Was it just you that curled your lip at the cheesy decorations lining the streets of campus? You hoped not, you didn’t want to consider how much of a grouch that made you. The constant barrage of hearts and pink kiss cut outs left you feeling a bit sick. Whether it was from the corny decorations or the reminder of your single status was a question you also didn’t want to explore. It was somewhat late in the morning of Valentine’s day when you were making your way to the same cafe as before. Your roommate was having her boyfriend over and you quickly understood the unspoken hint of making yourself scarce and decided upon enjoying an iced tea from your favorite cafe. 

Your projects were still unfinished and you’d resolved to make major headway today, considering they were due in the upcoming week. You blew out a short breath, seeing the vapor form in front of you, your weekend was going to be completely taken up by school. Pushing open the doors of the cafe, you took in your surroundings, noting how unusually empty it was. People must have better things to do on Valentine’s day, but where did that leave you?

You quickly ordered and received your food, making yourself comfy in your usual seat. Looking around the bare room left you feeling a bit upset, did everyone but you have a valentine this year? A quick glance at the two giggling baristas holding hands over the table confirmed your worries. You took an aggressive sip of your drink before opening your laptop, it didn’t matter, you had work to do. Soon, you forgot about your anxieties of loneliness in the face of intense work, focusing your full attention on the project in front of you. You were so distracted that you didn’t realize someone else had entered the cafe until they sat down across from you at your table. 

The sound of a backpack plopping down across from you startled you to attention, looking up at the person at the source of the sound. Dark eyes stared back at you with a single raised eyebrow hidden underneath blonde bangs. Your mouth opened slightly in shock before you closed it, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Yoongi’s face. 

“Is anyone sitting here already?”

You shook your head silently, still at a loss for words.

“Cool.”

Yoongi left his backpack on the adjacent chair before going up the register to order a hot americano with four shots of espresso. You made sure to take off your headphones and strain your ears to hear his order this time, watching him wait and return to your table after receiving the steaming cup. Your eyes didn’t leave his form the entire time, still unable to comprehend why he decided to sit next to you. His expression offered no answers, impassive and unreadable, and his voice supplied none either, choosing to silently sit and start working rather than speak to you. 

You stared at him for another few beats before returning back to your own work, what else were you supposed to do? However much you tried to focus on finishing your cutscene, your head swam with racing thoughts of why Yoongi was acting the way he was. It was becoming increasingly hard to focus with his form across from you, seemingly unbothered. Nevertheless, you tried your best to focus your attention on your laptop screen and not on the relaxed figure on the other side of the table. For a while, it worked, but you were beginning to get frustrated with your lack of progress. You could feel your bottom lip jutting out in an unintentional pout and your anger grew as you ran your unsatisfactory frames again, solidifying the need for more work to be done. 

You picked up your empty cup, hearing the ice shake, and exhaling in disappointment. Standing quietly, you attempted not to disturb Yoongi’s flow, though he seemed apathetic to your presence either way. His cup was seemingly empty, set aside and no longer steaming, and you considered your next move. The barista at the register happily took your order for another tea, sending a wink to the other girl behind the counter, who giggled in response. You held in an eyeroll, you couldn’t be mad at them, the two girls were adorably cute together, but you were already annoyed and on edge from your project going awry, not to mention the frustratingly stoic man sitting at your table. 

“Can I have a blueberry muffin, too, please,” you asked before you second guess yourself. The girl nodded, ringing you up, before handing you the muffin and drink after a minute or two. You breathed slowly, this would be a big step, a peace offering of sorts. If he said no, you would just eat the damn muffin yourself. It wasn’t such a big deal, or so you told yourself as you walked over.

Wait, what if he didn’t say anything at all?

There was no time to ponder that question as you’d already reached the table. You placed the muffin down next to him with shaky fingers before taking your own seat silently, you couldn’t look into his eyes. Not having enough courage to actually say anything, you instead took a long sip of your drink and stared hard at your computer. You remained steadfast in your gaze, locked into a staring competition with the editing software, before your attention was drawn by fingers tapping by the side of your laptop. You looked up, making eye contact with Yoongi’s gaze, still unreadable. 

“Thanks for the muffin,” he said quietly, his voice slightly gruff.

You nodded, sending him a tight-lipped smile, about to return your gaze to your work before he spoke once more. 

“Seo Y/N, right?”

Your mouth parted in shock, did he really know you? Did he really remember you? You nodded mutely in response to him.

“You’re Joohee’s friend, right? Jin hyung had mentioned you the other day,” he said, taking a bite of the muffin. 

You deflated slightly. Of course he didn’t actually remember you, he only knew you as Joohee’s friend. What other reason would you occupy his mind, if you even crossed it at all. Sending another polite smile in response, you struggled for something to say. 

“You’re Min Yoongi,” you stated, immediately regretting the bluntness of the words. You couldn’t come up with anything better than that? It wasn’t even a question, you had said like you already knew so what room did you leave him to respond? Your first conversation with him in years was already failing due to your social ineptness.

Yoongi, however, seemed more amused than anything, a barely there smile decorating his face and a slight tilt to his head, “Yeah, that’s me. What are you working on that’s got you huffing and puffing over there?”

His description of your behavior made your cheeks warm, “A project for class, I have to make a game cutscene.”

“Oh,” he questioned, raising an eyebrow, “You’re studying games?”

Your cheeks flamed even brighter, it sounded so stupid when he put it like that. In reality, you were studying project management and game design, but you had heard enough reactions from your parents’ friends to know that didn’t matter. All they heard was that it wasn’t a doctor, lawyer, or business, and that was enough for them to write it off. It felt even worse to hear the same amused, almost condescending, tone from Yoongi. You knew you had idolized him past his reality, but you’d hoped he would at least be more open minded than the other people that populated your family’s social circle. You felt yourself curl inwards a bit, retracting your hand back into your lap and trying to wipe your probably crestfallen expression off of your face. 

“That’s pretty cool,” he mused, eyes looking somewhere far off instead of you, “I’m amazed your parents let you.”

An involuntary scoff left your lips, making him focus his gaze back to you, “It came with its own price.”

He chuckled humorlessly, “It always does. Sometimes it feels like our parents are more like business partners than actual parents.”

Your hand stilled on your keyboard, his words striking a chord within you. They rang true, recalling most conversations with your parents sounding like a business meeting more than anything else, even when you were a kid. You were raised by maids and nannies, even your older brother barely interacted with you, your only reprieve was Joohee. Every time your parents came into your room, rare as it was, it was always to discuss your academics and nothing else. You worked hard for their approval, but even that came with consequences, further alienating your brother from you with the implicit competition expected between you. It saddened you, in a kindred spirit kind of way, to think that Yoongi had experienced something similar. 

“Do you have something you wanted to do instead,” you asked before you could stop yourself. Maybe that was out of line. 

Yoongi paused for a moment, considering your question, before smiling wistfully, “Yeah, I do.”

You were floored by the sparkle in his eyes, a flush to his cheeks, and a longing smile almost forming on his lips. In that moment, you knew that he couldn’t stop pursuing whatever it was that made him light up like that. 

“You should go for it,” you said, words tumbling out of your mouth, “I know it’s easier said than done, but it doesn’t have to be your livelihood. Your parents don’t have to know, isn’t it better to get there without them? But you shouldn’t give it up for anyone else, only if you really, truly want to.” You exhaled unsteadily, certainly not your most eloquent moment, but you hoped that what you were trying to say came across. 

Yoongi’s piercing gaze made you squirm, worried that you had gone too far. It wasn’t your business after all, and his continued silence made you feel like he didn’t appreciate your uninvited input. You unconsciously began wringing your fingers against each other, avoiding his intense gaze. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled meekly after he continued to stare at you without saying anything.

Yoongi seemed to snap back into the conversation, shaking his head slightly, “No, no, thank you. I’ll definitely have to keep that in mind.”

You weren’t sure if he was being serious or just polite, but at least he didn’t seem mad. You were happy with that. Just about to continue your work once more, your eyes caught his mouth opening once more, his tone straightforward but not unkind. 

“I hope you take your own advice.”

You and Yoongi had been working in comfortable silence, interrupted by the occasional conversation, mainly started by Yoongi since you were still too nervous to say anything unprompted. It was getting late, but you didn’t want to leave. Sitting in the empty cafe with no windows with your longtime crush felt like a dream, and you didn’t want to wake up. 

“So, how come you’re sitting here studying and not out on some date? Shouldn’t you be enjoying your youth to the fullest,” Yoongi asks, taking a bite out of a second muffin.

You smiled, “Shouldn’t you be doing the same?”

Yoongi only shook his head, prompting you to continue.

“No special reason, I guess, just don’t have a valentine,” you said, not wanting to delve into the complicated reasoning for your single status, “What about you?”

Yoongi hums, taking another bite of his muffin, “About the same here, just too busy this time of year to find someone.”

You nodded along even though your heart sank a bit, was it really that easy for him to find a date that time was the only thing stopping him? It’s not like you were expecting him to be celibate in consideration of your hidden feelings, but it was a bit disheartening that romance seemed to come so easy to him when you struggled with it so much. Maybe you were the problem.

“Tell you what,” Yoongi starts, cheeks puffed from polishing off the last of his muffin, “Since we’re both without a valentine this year, how about for today, we’ll be each other’s valentine.”

You looked up at him in shock, “What do you mean?”

“We’ve already spent most of the day together anyway, so let’s just call each other our valentine’s for today,” he said simply, as though he hadn’t just made your heart stutter.

You knew it was casual, a joke even, for him, but you wanted to relish in this moment, just a small bit of delusion to sprinkle into your fantasies. It’s not like you had any other prospects.

“Okay,” you smiled, “I think you’ll make a good enough valentine.”

Yoongi only smiled in response, “I think you’ll do just fine, too.”

masterlist

[marimariserasa]

OdyDio nation I just had an idea 🫢🫢🫢

(that I'll hope no one had before 😭😭😭😭😭)

Epic the musical (or the Odyssey itself, just using epic because... because I like epic) AU where Odysseus is Penelope and Dio is Odysseus

PLEASE HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE I'M NOT MAD (YET)!!!!

They met while being Helen's suitors. And Ody, instead of falling in love with Penelope (I love Odypen they mean the world for me I just think they wouldn't fit for this AU 😓😓) falls in love with Diomedes. The feeling is mutual but they only found this out this during the Trojan War.

And they have the cutest first date where they stab Trojans foreheads with spears while looking at each other lovingly 🫶

They plan to marry each other by the end of the war, but first they plan to return to their respective homes and sort things out there after returning from the war, but they have already established that Dio will move to Ithaca.

In this universe, Ody manages to return home safely, without the ship being hindered by anything… which is not the case with Diomedes. Which makes Ody wait for ten years to FINALLY be able to marry his lover.

Halfway through the journey, Diomedes gave up on his original plan of first going to Argos, sorting things out there, and then moving to Ithaca. Now he is going straight to Ithaca.

As for Odysseus… well, in the eyes of the people, he is a man who is getting older every day, he is attractive, very smart, a hero of the Trojan War - and still single?! And that brought together a legion of 108 women to be his suitors!

Ody can't reveal to them that he already has a lover. And either way, if he told them it's Diomedes, that guy was already assumed to be dead. And as long as the suitors didn't break any laws of xenia, he couldn't do anything about them. Just wait, wait, and wait for his love.

Well, I just know that with this AU, we would have the song Monster played much earlier. Maybe even being a flashback song, lol /hj

Not exactly canon just something I was thinking- I really like Telemachus (etm Telemachus. Odyssey Telemachus is a bitch) and I didn't want him to just. Like. Not exist. Dio got Ody pregnant during the last weeks of war and Ody had Telemarketer long after reestablish himself in Ithaca. Either Ody is trans, or Aphrodite got so mad about the fall of Troy that she made Ody have a pussy, made odydio extra horny for a day and then it happened 😭😭😭 "Here's your price for making the kingdom I supported fall! Get pregnant!!"

Anyways