#I stayed up all night to figure out how to write the code to him ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

[qep0ermint]

Good evening to all who have been waiting for news about the creation of AI Yandere Wally (but to everyone else, too, a good evening and good morning!)

I started prescribing the basic code and small details to him. For now, I decided to create a banal situation for the bot and see how it will cope with it. Here is a small part of what Yandere Wally's poor attempts to get out of the situation look like:

It is still being tested for adequacy and has not been posted publicly. I want to make it the way I imagined it, but so far it's just an awkward lump of stuttering and red tomato. I also called him just Wally because... Well, adding "Yandere" sounds a bit strange if you refer to it in dialogues, right?... Or I'm wrong. In general, I will try to post it publicly soon ^^

And please, for the future I will say that this is just a bot for a fun time, you should not take it seriously. I wish you all a good day!

(P.S. Ishimaki is just a randomly invented nickname when I registered on this site, but it sounds good, huh...)

[goosewriting]

The Aftermath

summary: reader visits Joaquín at the hospital as he wakes up from surgery.

relationship: Joaquín Torres x gn!reader

warnings: established relationship, spoilers for captain america: brave new world, mention and description of injuries and medical procedures, mention of accident and explosions, brief mentions of PTSD from events in Infinity War/Endgame, self-doubts and guilt

word count: 2.2k

A/N: i started writing this the moment i came home from watching BNW. can't believe it took me this long to write for him,, he's been rotating in my mind ever since tfantws <3 we really need more fics for joaquín, he’s so blorbo coded like cmon!! 🥹🥹 if you have any recs pls send them my way!

[all masterlists] 🪶 [mcu masterlist] 🪶 [ao3]

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Sitting by Joaquín’s hospital bed, you bring your hands to your face as you remember his accident on the Indian Ocean. You had watched the broadcast in horror, your heart in your throat as his figure fell from the sky into the open water. 

At that moment, you couldn’t help but remember the video from all those years ago, where you saw how Rhodey had fallen as well, like a rock, everyone watching, unable to do anything to stop him. Just like War Machine, Joaquín had turned uncontrollably on his descent, one of his wings ripped from the suit by the missile exploding right in his face.

You’ve been in the Avengers’ orbit since a little before the battle against Thanos on Wakanda, where you had also fought with everyone, but then got blipped. The transition back to society with a gap of 5 years had been very hard on you, and while you stayed in contact with everyone who remained, helping out whenever you could, you didn’t really have it in you to go back out to the battlefield. Even after all this time, you still have nightmares about the snap and the Battle for Earth. 

Bringing your hands back into your lap, you let out a trembling breath, clinging onto the constant soft beeping of the machinery to tether yourself to reality and not fall down a spiral of despair. Every time your eyes roam over Joaquín’s injuries, you close your eyes, pressing the base of your hands over them, then open them again. Your sight is momentarily sprinkled with dots, and as it clears, you hope for everything to have been a horrible nightmare. But once your view clears up, he’s still there. Unconscious. Hurt.

The surgery he’d been in last night had felt like it was never going to end. Still, you had stayed the whole time, and once he got out, you stayed at his side. 

It’s been several hours since Joaquín got wheeled into his room, the head medic saying he was still unconscious but stable. You shift in the armchair by the bed where you sit. One of the nurses brought you something to eat earlier since you refused to leave, the wrapper of your sandwich still in your hands as your eyes start feeling heavier and heavier, and you can’t find it in yourself to fight the welcome embrace of sleep, slowly spreading through your limbs. You’ve almost completely dozed off when you hear a groan, and immediately your grogginess dissipates. You straighten up in your seat, the wrapper falling to the floor as you scoot closer to the bed, tears stinging behind your eyes. How you still have tears left, you have no idea, given how much you’ve cried in the past hours, terrified of losing the love of your life. 

Joaquín blinks several times, scrunching his face, eyes trying to adapt to the light. He lifts his good arm, looking at the tubes attached to it, and his gaze roams the room and down his body, face contorting in pain lightly. Then his eyes land on you, and his face immediately softens.

“Hey, there,” he croaks out. 

“You’re awake,” you whisper, holding his hand in your trembling ones. “I was scared you wouldn’t.”

“Pfft, it’ll take more than a meagre explosion to defeat the Falcon,” he retorts with a pained smile.

Normally you’d laugh at his jokes, enjoying his silly side, but right now you have no humour left in you. Another wave of tears rolls down your cheeks, and his smile vanishes.

“Please don’t joke about that,” you plead, giving his hand a squeeze. “You were hit by a freaking missile. From a fighter jet. While up in the air between two armies about to start a war with each other.”

“Well, if you put it like that…” He sighs. 

There’s a moment of silence where you again study his bruised face, your gaze landing on the massive burn covering his whole shoulder, streaks of red raw skin visible on his jaw and throat. Your brows furrow in frustration.

“I should have been there,” you mumble, angry at yourself for letting this happen.

“What?” he asks, craning his neck to fully look at you.

“I should have gone with you,” you say, bringing your eyes to look up at him. “Then I could have helped and you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

Joaquín exhales through his nose in disbelief.

“We were in the air, and I went head to head with the missile even after Sam told me to back off,” he retorts, shaking his head. “There was nothing you could have done.”

His tone isn’t scolding; he’s telling the truth and you know it. Still, you can’t help but feel like the outcome could have been different, if you had just been better, braver. You try to choke back a sob, unsuccessful, and his hold tightens around your hand.

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” He speaks your name softly. “This isn’t on you. Please don’t cry.”

You grimace, biting the inside of your cheek.

“For a moment I thought you died, Joaquín. I was so scared,” you say with a shaky breath, bringing his hand to your face, and he cups your cheek. You place your hand over his, holding onto it and leaning into his touch like it was the last time you could hold him like this.

“I’m sorry I scared you.”

Your heart shatters at the thought that even after getting hurt, after getting blown up, he’s the one apologising to you. He’s about to add something when the door opens and a nurse comes in. You back off a bit and hastily wipe your face with the back of your sleeves as she does some check-ups, both on Joaquín and the machines, taking some notes on her clipboard. She then takes one of the tubes attached to his arm, and places a syringe at the other end.

“What’s that?” you ask, suspicious. She gives you a quick look with a raised brow, but when she sees the state you’re in, her face relaxes again.

“Painkillers and antibiotics. He’ll need both of them,” she explains.

It doesn’t take long for the fluids to reach Joaquín’s blood system, and he visibly relaxes against the pillows and closes his eyes.

“Oh, hell yeah. That’s the good stuff,” he sighs, and the nurse chuckles softly. You still can’t get yourself to let go of your worry. Once she’s done with everything, she leaves the way she came, exiting the room. As the door closes behind her, your eyes land on the wrapper on the floor, and you pick it up with a sniffle, crumpling it up further.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty? Can I get you anything?” you ask as you throw the trash into the bin from where you sit, to your surprise making the shot. He doesn't answer, eyes still closed.

“Joaquín?” you ask softly, not wanting to wake him in case he fell asleep again.

“Huh? Wha?” His eyes open and he turns to look at you, his face visibly relaxed now.

“You okay?” You take his hand again, and he gives you a squeeze.

“Hmm-mm,” he hums with a nod, blinking slowly as he tries to focus on your face. “I just think I’m… kinda high right now.”

That’s when you finally break, unable to hold back an endeared chuckle, shaking your head. Joaquín’s eyes are filled with warmth and then concern as they land on your face, brows furrowing as if he just noticed something. His hand comes up to wipe away the remaining streak of tears. He also playfully pinches your cheek for good measure, eliciting another smile of yours.

“That’s better,” he concludes, a smile spreading on his face as well. The smile that could light up any room he’s in, in your humble opinion. 

You prop your elbow onto the edge of the bed, head in your hands as you look at him, and he looks back at you with a silly grin. The beeps on the machine speed up a bit, and you look up at the screen, then back at him with a brow raised in amusement.

“Usually you can’t tell because I’m smooth as hell, but it’s true,” he notes, like a huge secret was just uncovered. “You still make my heart race.”

Heat prickles on your cheeks at his words and you avert your gaze with a snort. As long as your heart is still beating, you think, remembering that they had to resuscitate him after the accident, but you shake those thoughts away, preferring to focus on the fact that he’s still here, alive.

“I know that the moment you’re back on your feet, you’ll be out there again, suited up,” you start after a moment, shooting him a serious look. “So I won’t ask you to stop. But promise me to be more careful next time?”

“Pinky promise.” Joaquín lifts his hand, fingers curled except for his pinky, and you can’t help but chuckle as you mirror his gesture, curling your finger around his. He shakes your hand like that side to side for a bit, then drops it back down onto the bed. A strand of hair falls into his face as he leans back, and you brush it back, caressing over his bruised cheekbone gingerly. 

“When was the last time you slept?” he asks suddenly.

“Hmm.” You look at the timestamp on the muted TV in the corner, currently playing some movie or other. It’s only then that you realise you’ve been intermittently awake for almost two full days now. “Can’t really remember,” you lie.

“You need to rest. You look exhausted,” he remarks, gesturing to himself. “I’m taken care of.”

“No, I’m not leaving you,” you say, putting as much finality into your voice as you can in your state.

He says your name softly. You look away. He sighs.

“Well, if you insist on staying, then at least I can get pampered a bit, yeah?” he starts, and you narrow your eyes at him in feigned suspicion. He asks with a playful pout, “You know what would make me feel better?”

“Hmm?” 

Joaquín turns his head, offering you his cheek. You can’t help but laugh. 

“I thought you were high on painkillers already?”

“Even the best medicine holds nothing against your kisses.”

“Pfft, is that so.” Now it’s your heart’s turn to speed up. You two have been together for a while now, but he still makes you feel warm and fuzzy, and gives you butterflies in your stomach, when he isn’t on the brink of death, at least. “Well, in that case, I better get started on your dose.”

You lean forward, placing a kiss on his cheek, and he hums pleasedly. He doesn’t move, though, clearly waiting for more. You’re more than happy to oblige, placing kiss after kiss on his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, being especially careful around his injuries. Finally, you hold his chin to turn his face towards you, and kiss the corner of his mouth, then his lips. It's chaste but sweet, and he smiles into it. When you lean back, his eyes are filled with love, slightly unfocused because of the meds, a goofy grin on his face. As you hold his face, you consider saying something cheesy, hoping he won’t remember it. But before you can speak, there’s a knock at the door, and someone steps in. It’s Sam. He looks surprised to see you.  

“Damn, you’re still here?” he asks with concern, then turns to Joaquín. “How’re you feeling?”

“Splendid, really,” he replies, leaning into your hand still cupping his face.

“He got a decent shot of painkillers,” you explain, looking up at Sam with a tired smile. “He’s high as a kite.”

Sam chuckles, then looks at you worriedly. 

“You need to rest. Both of you.” He places a hand on your shoulder. “Go home, I’ll take it from here.”

You hesitate, looking between the two, and Joaquín nods, his eyes pleading for you to also take care of yourself. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Joaquín says, taking your hand from his face and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be here when you come back.”

“Right,” you sigh and rise to your feet with wobbly legs now that the exhaustion is finally kicking in full force, and Sam holds you up when your knees threaten to give in. 

“Whoa there. You need a nap, ASAP.” 

“Yeah, yeah I do,” you say with a sigh, steadying yourself as he lets you go, his hands still hovering over your arms for a moment in case he has to grab you again, but you manage to stand straight. You grab your jacket from the back of the chair, and turn to Joaquín. “I’ll come back this evening, okay? I’ll bring your favourite snacks too. Don’t tell the nurse, though.” You wink at him with a knowing smile.

“You’re the best.”

“No, you are.” You lean over him to kiss him goodbye, whispering ‘I love you’ against his lips, and pecking him once more for good measure. The machine’s beeps speed up again.

“Love you too. See you later.” Joaquín brings his hand up to caress over your cheek one last time, then you leave the room.

Sam is still standing there, hands in his pockets, looking down at his friend as the beeps slowly start decreasing back to normal.

“Very cute,” he remarks, unable to bite back a teasing smile. 

“Don’t even,” Joaquín says and rolls his eyes playfully, knowing perfectly well that Sam will never let him live that down.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!]

[whokilledsamara]

I loved both of ur scarletella hcs 💕 would it be possible to get more with mr crawling?

MR. CRAWLING HC {N/SFW}

a Mr. Crawling x reader list of sfw and nsfw hc. {an : ahh ty! ofc! i love him hes so puppy coded}

warnings!: smut, nsfw, soft sex, switch!reader, cunnilingus, blowjob, public {?}, slight marking, afab and amab genitalia described.

SFW HC

a list of sfw hc on what it would be like to date Mr. Crawling

for starters, Mr. Crawling has got to be the perfect lover out of all of the boys.

hes sweet, caring, and just a touch of yandere. {no where near as much as Mr. Scarletella...}

in a relationship with him, it would be like normal just x10.

he is a very touchy lover. when he is crawling he likes to be as close to you as possible. he says its for your safety but you know its more than that.

at night when you are sleeping, he stays near you constantly. he doesn't need to sleep, but if you let him, he will hold you while you sleep in his arms.

he goes out of his way to find gifts and food for you, even engaging with the others to GET it.

if you choose to take him home, {why wouldnt you...} then he will become almost like a housewife.

hes a fast learner so he can easily figure out how to clean, MAYBE cook, and really anything else. hes such a good boy!

speaking of a good boy.. he LOVES praise. he will do anything he can do just to hear you praise him. it really sets off his endorphins when he hears those sweet sounds of love come out of your mouth.

though he doesn't understand how it works, he likes kisses! he loves pressing his lips to yours or you giving him face kisses, like forehead or cheeks.

his hair is a big thing, he wants you to play with it or experiment with it. if you put his hair in styles, like braids or buns, he will be so happy !!

as for baths, he needs your help to teach him. in the underworld, smell wasnt really prominent too much. and there wasnt really a way for him to stay clean. his skin is sensitive, but he likes when you help wash him. he does enjoy baths!

his biggest concern is his face. he is very insecure about it, so PLEASE constantly remind him and tell him that he isn't ugly.

he gets so giddy at any sort of touches, even accidental.

he has major jealousy issues and gets upset if you talk to other people, so make sure you give him regular attention. {he could never be mad at you hehe}

you could look like/wear ANYTHING and he would think you are the most beautiful thing alive.

NSFW HC

a list of nsfw hcs on your sex life with Mr. Crawling

you might have to teach him what sex even is honestly. being locked up in an abandoned apartment complex with no sexual activity will make it hard to even know what it is.

hes so cute during sex. guaranteed. at first he is surprised you even want to have sex with him, like he is genuinely shocked.

once he is out of his clothes he is already a whimpering mess. still semi worried you are joking.

when i tell you he doesnt last, i mean it. a few thrusts in and he is already cumming. dont worry, he has unlimited stamina, and can go for hours or as long as you want.

after a few times, he learns that he LOVES giving you head. whether afab or amab, he is all up in that.

very submissive during sex, but is still the one manhandling you.

as said earlier, call him a good boy and he could probably just orgasm from that. praise is definitely a huge turn on.

he is a very fast learner {as are all of them}, almost instantly finding those spots inside of you.

he has very long, slim fingers. take that as you will.

he likes having his hair pulled. wants you to grab ahold of it and use him.

anywhere, and anytime you need him, he will be there. he will even find a random corner and go to town on you if you wish.

absolutely would have bloody sex. any blood, doesnt matter.

ill write more another day on a separate fic, for now here is a small paragraph for him going down on you. {could be afab or amab depending on how you look at it}

{ made by @whokilledsamara }

[spxllcxstxr]

Love Sick • J.A

(Gif not mine)

Request: Could you do a fic with abbot x reader who’s a nurse and she comes to work sick? 🤒 -- anon

Summary: You just want to get through this shift. Jack just wants you to go home.

Warnings: fem!reader (is called “my girl”), nightshiftnurse!reader, established relationship, reader is sick but it’s more like a cold than anything serious

Word Count: 1.2k

A.N: First time writing for Jack! Lmk what you guys think!

•

You were fine. You weren’t sick. You could make it through this shift. As long as you kept repeating that little mantra throughout your day, maybe it would start sounding more convincing.

Realistically, you knew you shouldn’t have gone into work—no one likes to be seen by a sick nurse, afterall—but you only had one more shift before your weekend off and all you wanted to do was power through it. You hated admitting when you couldn’t do something, so something as trivial as a cold wasn’t going to stop you.

When you woke up in the afternoon it became abundantly clear that you weren’t feeling well at all. Your throat stayed a little sore no matter how much water or tea you swallowed and the splitting headache made you think something was trying to escape from the center of your brain.

But you drove to work anyway.

Dana eyes you the second you place your bag down at the nurse’s station. She all packed and ready to head home for the night but she pauses when she sees you.

“You alright?”

“Hm?”

“You just look like you should be resting, not working a night shift.” Dana shrugs. “Jack know you’re here?” She raises her eyebrows like a mother at her child when she knows they’re about to bullshit their way out of something.

“I’m fine, Dana.” You respond, opting out of the lie. “Thank you for the concern.” Sitting, you glance through the paperwork Princess and Perla left for you.

“Whatever you say.” Dana chuckles, patting you on the shoulder. “Just text me when Abbot inevitably sends you home.”

You glare at retreating figure, watching as she walks out the doors with Robby. Oh to be done with your shift.

"You look like shit." Jack comments, stopping in front of the nurse's station a little bit later. He swings his stethoscope back around his neck.

"Thanks, Jack, you have such a way with words." You reply sarcastically, glancing up from the monitor in front of you.

"You know what I meant, don't get all snarky on me." Jack rolls his eyes jokingly. "Let me check your temperature, you seem sick."

Jack goes to place the back of his hand on your forehead but jerks back as he hears a patient's vitals tanking.

"Jack, he's coding!" Walsh calls from one of the rooms.

He sighs. "I'm not done with you, sweetheart." He turns and jogs over to Walsh, already shouting for certain things to be done.

An hour goes by and you feel yourself getting more exhausted than usual. It takes forever for you to rise from your seat to check up on a patient and Shen’s jokes become more of a nuisance no matter how funny they are. You debate calling it quits and just heading home multiple times but there were only a couple more hours in your shift, why not just fight through it?

Your smiles turn out more like grimaces and your lighthearted banter comes out croaky but your job was still getting done.

Jack narrows his eyes at you from afar, watching as you type something on the desktop in front of you. You seemed distracted to him—languid, if he wanted to be completely honest.

He hadn’t had a moment to assess you further earlier in the night when he first attempted to press the back on his hand onto your forehead. Jack shifts between each foot, taking this rare moment of stillness to take a breather.

You stop typing, the headache radiating pain across your skull. Frowning, you get up from the desk and make your way to the break room. With your head bowed down to avoid the white florescent lighting of the trauma center, you don’t notice Jack tracking your movements.

Inside the break room you wet a paper towel with cold water, placing it directly on your heated face, hoping that it helps regulate the temperature and the pain. You sigh in slight relief.

“Just a few more hours…” You repeat to yourself, pressing your fingertips into your temples.

The door opens and you quickly toss the paper towel from your face and into the trash can. The harsh lights above you make you flinch.

“I was just—“

“Trying to convince yourself that you’re not that sick?” Jack interrupts, worry and amusement mixed across his features.

“I’m not sick.” You scowl.

His eyes run over your frame. “Are you sure you graduated from your nursing program?” Jack chuckles. “Langdon’s kids could easily clock you.”

He ambles up to you, eyes running up and down your figure. You can't imagine you look nice; scrubs wrinkled in a few places and skin lacking its usual luster.

Silently he sticks out his hand to feel your temperature. Why he defaults to rudimentary practices to check you, you're not entirely sure, but having Jack's hand on you is a lot better than a thermometer under your tongue.

He hums as he takes his hand off of you.

"Go home." Jack murmurs, his lips just grazing the tip of your ear. He pulls back only enough for his eyes to connect to yours.

His closeness makes you want to just fall into your lover’s arms and feel the warmth radiating off his body. Jack’s magnetic pull almost gets you, but you hold yourself back, determined to not succumb to your awfully inconvenient illness.

"I have the next two days off, there's no need for me to miss this shift--"

"Don't make me pull rank on you, sweetheart." He raises his eyebrows, daring you to disagree. "And not in a kinky way." Jack crosses his arms over his chest.

Teasingly, you pout. “Such a shame.”

“C’mon,” He continues, voice still light. “Go on home, rest, and I’ll come over after I finish here. I’ll take care of you over the weekend.”

The thought of Jack bustling around your apartment making you soup and disinfecting your furniture is certainly enticing.

“I do love having my own personal Doctor Abbot fussing over me…”

Jack runs his hands over your arms, palms warm against your skin. You suppress a shiver, due to an oncoming fever or the fact he’s so warm in the cold interior of the trauma center, you don’t know for sure.

“Go on, I’ll be there when you wake up, sweetheart.” Jack presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Hm, maybe I should let Robby and Gloria know your bedside manner is improving.” Smiling, you tease and pull away a tad to start moving toward the exit.

“You better not,” he laughs. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold around here. I like being known as the cranky old smartass, can’t have everyone here knowing I melt for my girl.”

Cheeks heating up, you look away. “Of course, Doc.”

“Get home safe, I love you.” He says, watching you exit the otherwise empty break room.

“I love you, too, Jack. I’ll see you at mine.”

You shoot Dana a quick text as you leave the building, not expecting her to text back until later in the day when she finally wakes up for work.

It’s a drag getting home; your mind feels sluggish and your nose starts to drip, but you get into your bed knowing that Jack was going to be in the open spot next to you in the morning.

•

[squoxle]

HIIEUSI WAS WHHEE HI SIS I WAS WONDERING U COULD DO ARCADE FF WITH HEESEUNG ?

Omg girl I haven’t had time to write a damn thing yet and my drafts are piling up. But moots take TOP priority and I try to respond to asks as fast as possible. Anywaysss here you go and I hope u enjoy 🩷

Ride Me ~ L.HS

pairing: Heeseung!bf x Reader!gf| wc: 1k | summary: Things take a steamy turn after your boyfriend shows you his new at-home arcade setup. | cw: 🔞MDNI!! unprotected sex, cumshots, fingering, clit stimulation, pet names [daddy, good girl, baby] <- 100% Heeseung coded [porn with a plot] Enjoy :)

“Well babe, what do you think?” Heeseung asked as he uncovered your eyes revealing the mass gaming setup. “I figured I’d use this more than the theater room,” he ruffled his hands through his hair, anxiously waiting for you to respond.

“It looks great, but I’m gonna miss our little movie nights under the blankets,” you smiled as you walked up to one of the machines.

You clicked a few of the large buttons, anticipating a pixelated image to flash across the screen. “Umm, how do you turn this thing on?” You asked as nothing seemed to work.

Heeseung placed his hand on the edge beside you, trapping you beneath him as he reached down to flick a power switch. You felt his weight slightly press you against the machine as he did this.

“I must’ve forgotten to turn this one on,” he met your eyes through his shaggy hair. Something about that state felt off, but maybe it was just you so you brushed off the feeling and proceeded to look at the other games he had.

A zombie survival simulator that came with 4 guns.

A claw machine filled with plushes.

A retro fighting game.

And a two player motorcycle game.

Eager to try this one out, you climbed onto the bike.

“Of all the stuff you just saw, im surprised this is the one you wanted to play,” Heeseung tilted his head.

“Yeah, well, I like racing games. Stuff like MarioKart, y’know,” Heeseung watched as you struggled to reach the coin slot from your seat. The opening sat just out of your reach.

Your tits pressed up against the leather as your cheek meshed with cold material.

"Let me help you," Heeseung whispered in your ear as he reached over to insert the coin. You felt him pushing himself up against you from behind which sent butterflies through your stomach.

You went to the loading screen and customized your bike, "If you wanna play, there's another bike," you said as you noticed your boyfriend was still straddled on the bike behind you. His hands gripped the back of the seat as he sat there with his legs spread open.

You had a bad habit of staring at the print in his pants, didn't matter if he was hard or soft. You craved to feel him inside of you.

"I know, but I wanna see how you ride," he smirked as he grabbed your hips, quickly jerking your hips backward.

Feeling the heat rush to your face you continued to start up the game. You chose a Tokyo map because of the neon cityscape terrain at night time. Though you tried your best to stay focused you couldn't shake the feeling of Heeseung sitting behind you like this.

"San, ni, ichi...sutato," the automated female voice called out as tri-colored traffic lights flashed across the screen. The aggressive rumble from the bike startled you as it took off.

You felt as Heeseung squeezed your hips again before leaning against you. You nearly crashed as his touch caught you off guard.

"Be careful baby," he said before placing a kiss on your neck.

"I-I'm trying. But you keep distracting me," you stuttered.

"Am I really that distracting," he asked as he slipped his hands around your thighs, squeezing and pulling at the flesh.

"Ngh," you groaned. "Yes, you are."

"Oh, but you like it when I touch you like this. Don't you?" Heeseung grinded his hips against you.

"Mmm," you moaned as you felt his budge pressing into you. "H-heeseung," you said letting out a soft breath.

"Keep driving baby. If you come in first place, I'll give you a little treat," he hummed as he reached his fingers in between your folds. Your growing wetness slowly seeped through the fabric of your panties.

"Ngh!" you huffed as he massaged your clit through your shorts.

He continued to tease you as you struggled to finish the race, barely coming in first after finding a shortcut.

As the gold star shot across the screen, Heeseung hummed a raspy "Good girl," in your ear before helping you out of your shorts.

At this point, you were only wearing your hot pink thong--something you knew Heeseung loved to use. "Show me that pretty little pussy of yours," he bit his lip as you pulled the small fabric to the side, exposing your wet folds.

He smiled as he palmed himself before pulling his veiny cock out only to glide it between your slimy lips and tease your sensitive bead with his tip.

You whimpered as you began pushing yourself against his hard dick, eagerly trying to force it inside.

He halted your movements by gripping the inside of your thighs, spreading your legs more, before telling you to "ride Daddy's dick like the good girl I know you are."

Immediately after he said those words, he shoved his dick deep inside of you, causing you to let out a sharp groan. "Fuck," he winced. "You're still so fucking tight," he said slowly pumping his cock into you. "Ngh," he moaned before leaning forward to kiss your neck as your ragged breathing filled his ear. "You sound so fucking sexy when you're taking my dick like this," he pecked your cheek as you finally adjusted to his length.

You started to grind into your boyfriend, stuffing his cock deeper into you as he held you from your waist. "That's it, baby, just like that," his words encouraged you to pick up the speed as he pulled your lips into his, gripping your throat.

He turned you over and fucked you from the back as your tits pressed up against the leather. You clenched around him as he let out a groan. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he gritted through his teeth before 3 long, hard thrusts. You felt his warm seed spill into you and drip out as you came with him. Fortunately, your panties caught the majority of the spill.

Exhausted, you laid across the bike as Heeseung kissed your shoulders.

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @mimikittysblog @nikisdubblchococake @wonbinisbabygurl @hynjinnn1 @mrswolfhard3 @laylasbunbunny @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon @sughoonieeee @babyy-bambii @adrika04 @sehunsharpasseyebrows @wtfyangjungwon @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @rikiloversworld @shawyle @sunoosrightbuttcheek @uarmyxtae @lovesickxmina @urfavberry @urauntiefaye @breadlover01 @taehyunsfavmoa

[orellazalonia]

Prank Wars

Summary: You and Bucky Barnes start as chaotic, bickering frenemies locked in a prank war filled with glitter bombs, insults, and grudging teamwork. What begins as rivalry evolves into a sharp-edged romance, complete with teasing, team gossip, and quiet moments that prove even the most combative hearts can find their match. (Bucky Barnes x Avenger!reader)

Word Count: 3.5k+

A/N: Wanted to write something with a sort of friendly rivalry type vibe. I think it turned out to be a fun read. So, Happy reading!!!

Main Masterlist

You weren’t sure how it started. Maybe it was the time you’d called Bucky a “grumpy vintage action figure” during sparring, or maybe it was when he’d scoffed at your taste in music loud enough for the entire compound to hear. Either way, it was clear from day one: you and Bucky Barnes didn’t get along… but also couldn’t seem to stay away from each other.

You were a field agent with a smart mouth, a tendency to disobey orders, and a deep love for chaos. Bucky was a stickler for rules (at least the ones he liked), a human grimace with vibranium arms and trauma to spare, and somehow you kept ending up on the same teams. That first year at the Tower had been nothing but sarcastic quips, mutual eye rolls, and explosive chemistry that was definitely not romantic. At all. Probably.

Still, he never missed a mission with you. He’d grumble, complain, and occasionally fake gag when assigned to your squad, but he always showed up, and you always had each other’s backs. That didn’t mean peace. Oh, no. It meant war. Pranks, to be specific.

It began with the coffee incident. You’d woken up earlier than usual and decided to be kind for once. So, you brewed Bucky’s preferred dark roast before heading to the gym. But when you returned, your favorite mug (“World’s Okayest Agent”) was full of lukewarm decaf. A tiny sticky note on the handle read: Thanks for the bean water. I upgraded it. -B.

You were fuming. You didn’t say anything. You simply retaliated.

The next morning, Bucky found his boots filled with glitter. Not just glitter, iridescent, microfine, impossible-to-wash-out glitter that puffed into the air with each step like a magical dust trail from hell. You heard him curse halfway across the compound and smiled, eating your breakfast yogurt.

From there, it escalated. Your shampoo was swapped with syrup. His knife belt mysteriously vanished and reappeared glued to the ceiling. Your favorite hoodie went missing and was later found on Alpine who now refused to give it back. You switched his phone settings to speak and only read in French. He hacked your earpiece during a mission so it played 90s boyband music every time you tried to speak. Natasha bet twenty bucks on who would snap first. Clint started recording everything for “training purposes” (a.k.a. blackmail).

Still, you and Bucky kept a strict code: no permanent damage, nothing during missions, and no involving civilians. The rest was fair game.

There was an unspoken tension that came with it though. The kind of energy that lingered in the way you stood just a little too close during briefings, or the way Bucky always made sure you had your favorite protein bar stashed in the quinjet after tough missions. You could argue like enemies, scheme like tricksters, and still be the first ones to bandage each other’s wounds in silence.

And maybe that’s why, one night, when your newest plan involved rewiring his door sensors to trigger a confetti cannon… you hesitated.

You stood there, crouched in the hallway, wires in hand with your face lit by the soft glow of your tablet screen. Something was off. A quiet hum in the air. Your instincts itched. You weren’t alone.

“Don’t move,” came a voice behind you, calm, smug, and too close.

You sighed. “That’s what you said last time, and then I ended up zip-tied to a barstool with Steve giving me a lecture about boundaries.”

Bucky stepped into your peripheral vision, arms crossed. “Because you tried to saran-wrap my motorcycle.”

“It was a creative deterrent.”

He leaned down. “And this is… what? Revenge? Retaliation? Or are you just obsessed with me?”

You tilted your head, smirking. “What can I say? I love a fixer-upper.”

His eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of amusement. He reached past you slowly and disconnected a wire before you could stop him. The door made a sad little beep as the trap disarmed. You stared at him, defeated.

“I was going to use that for the hallway next week,” You muttered.

He leaned in even closer, his voice lower. “Try harder.”

And just like that, he walked off. You were still crouched in the hallway, flushed, stunned, and already plotting.

The war wasn’t over. It was just getting good.

-

During your next mission, you weren’t sure what set off the alarm in your head. It wasn’t anything loud or dramatic, just a moment. A brief flicker of tension in the air during an otherwise routine mission.

You and Bucky were assigned to a low-level extraction. Some simple, easy to navigate warehouse but you were both grumbling the whole time, because being sent on “babysitting detail”, as you’d called it, meant no time for new pranks. He’d called you “bored and dangerous,” and you’d called him “paranoid and constipated,” because that’s what you two did. Banter was the language. Biting, sarcastic, familiar.

But then, something shifted.

You’d split up to secure the area. You were in the northwest wing, scanning crates for the target intel when your comm crackled, static. No voice, just dead silence.

“Barnes?” You tried, tapping your earpiece. “Buck, come in.”

No answer.

That was fine. Annoying, but fine. He’d probably gone off comm on purpose to mess with you even if that went against the “rules”. You rolled your eyes, muttered something unspeakable, and kept moving. But then, the overhead lights flickered, and a strange smell reached your nose, smoke. Not fire. Something burning.

You pulled your weapon and turned the corner just in time to see two unknowns in black body armor dragging a third figure toward the loading dock. Bucky. His arms limp. One eye half-open, dazed. Blood at his temple.

You didn’t think. You moved.

It wasn’t flashy, wasn’t graceful. It was fast, brutal, and angry. You’d never felt this kind of burn before. Like someone had tried to mess with your territory. You fired two rounds, took a pipe to the ribs, wrestled one attacker to the ground, and jabbed a shock baton straight into the other’s side.

By the time you got to Bucky, he was already regaining consciousness, his voice a ragged growl.

“’M fine,” He muttered, trying to sit up.

“You look like hell,” You snapped, crouching beside him. “What happened?”

He blinked at you, blood still dripping down his cheek. “Trap. One of them said your name.”

That made you freeze.

“What?”

“They weren’t after me,” He said, grimacing. “They were using me to draw you out.”

Your mouth went dry. The adrenaline started wearing off, and something unfamiliar twisted in your gut.

They weren’t random mercs. They were targeting you.

You didn’t know what you were more pissed about, the fact that they almost got away with it, or that Bucky had taken a hit meant for you.

Back at the Tower, you didn’t speak to him for a full hour. Not because you were mad at him but because you didn’t know what to do with the feeling that had sunk under your skin like lead.

You sat by his med bay cot with your arms folded, pretending to be annoyed when really, your leg wouldn’t stop bouncing.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Bucky murmured, glancing at you from the bed.

You scowled. “You’re lucky I didn’t punch you. Running off like that without backup.”

“I had backup. You found me.”

“Not the point.”

He gave you a long look. “You okay?”

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you reached into your jacket pocket and wordlessly handed him a folded sheet of paper.

He frowned and unfolded it. A crude drawing of a scoreboard. At the bottom, you’d scribbled:

Injured in the line of duty (for dumb reasons): You – 7 Me – 5 Bonus point for catching me off guard. Bastard.

For the first time that day, he actually smiled. Not his usual smirk, but something a little softer, quieter.

“Does this mean the prank war’s on hold?” He asked.

You leaned back in your chair, arms crossed again. “Not a chance.”

And then, after a beat:

“…But maybe we cool it with the glitter bombs for a week.”

And so it did. The prank war didn’t end after the warehouse incident. It just… slowed. Morphed into something quieter. The jokes were still there like dry comments and sarcastic smiles but the glitter bombs were replaced by things like Bucky bringing you an ice pack before you asked. You, in turn, dropped by the training room with his favorite protein shake the day after his stitches came out.

And of course, everyone noticed.

Natasha cornered you in the gym a week later, twirling a throwing knife with deliberate laziness as you wiped sweat from your brow.

“So,” She said, nonchalant. “You and Barnes done setting the Tower on fire yet?”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

She arched an eyebrow. “I mean the tension. The bickering. The very specific brand of foreplay that involves booby-trapping his bedroom door.”

You tossed the towel over your shoulder and rolled your eyes. “It’s not foreplay. It’s war.”

Nat gave you a slow, knowing smirk. “Sure. That’s why you look like someone kicked your puppy every time he gets hurt now.”

You didn’t respond because she wasn’t wrong.

It wasn’t that you liked Bucky Barnes. He was infuriating, overly serious, deeply confusing, and didn’t know how to share snacks. But he was also reliable, frustratingly observant, and lately, the look he gave you when you smiled, like you were the only one in the room, made your brain short-circuit.

You thought about it again later that night when Steve roped the two of you into a debrief on a rooftop overlooking the city. The mission had been a success, barely. You’d both walked away with bruises, dust in your hair, and a couple of near-death moments. Typical.

Steve cleared his throat when neither of you said anything.

“So, I just wanted to say… the teamwork is improving. Kind of.”

Bucky grunted. You didn’t look up from your seat on the low concrete ledge.

“But,” Steve added, crossing his arms, “I’d also like to point out that the Tower can’t afford another prank incident involving electrical rewiring, sparklers, and… what was it last time? A taxidermy raccoon?”

You smiled faintly. “He started it.”

“She painted my arm pink,” Bucky said flatly, leaning beside you.

“It was fuchsia,” You corrected. “Tasteful fuchsia.”

Steve exhaled like a parent trying very hard not to ground both his kids.

“…Just- figure it out, okay?” He said, before leaving the rooftop with a muttered “I miss the days when people just punched each other.”

You sat in silence for a while, watching the city lights flicker in the distance.

“You okay?” Bucky asked after a beat.

You nodded, then tilted your head toward him. “You?”

He shrugged. “Tired. Still sore.”

You leaned back on your palms, glancing up at the stars. “Nat thinks we’re flirting.”

He scoffed. “Is that what this is?”

“God, I hope not. I’d hate to be attracted to someone who uses the phrase ‘back in my day.’”

He glanced sideways, something sharp flickering into something soft in his eyes. “You’d miss me.”

You looked at him. Really looked.

“…Yeah,” You admitted, barely above a whisper. “Maybe so.”

There was a pause. Just long enough to shift the air. Then, he bumped your shoulder with his.

“Don’t tell Clint. He’ll never shut up about it.”

You smirked, your voice quieter this time. “Don’t worry. This never happened.”

-

Things changed during your next mission together. It wasn’t supposed to be a high-stakes adventure. A simple recovery op in a half-abandoned research facility on the outskirts of Prague. The intel said light security and no hostiles. Which of course meant it immediately went sideways.

You were cornered behind a crumbling wall with Bucky beside you, bullets chewing up stone, and the mission blown to hell. Your heart thundered in your chest, breathing ragged, but your mind was laser-focused until you caught a glance at Bucky’s face.

Blood streamed down from his temple. Again. The same spot as last time. You hated how that made your stomach twist.

“I told you to watch your six,” You snapped, crouching low to reload.

“I did!” He snapped back.

You shoved a fresh mag into your weapon and glared at him. “You are a human disaster.”

“And you’re a walking magnet for trouble.”

“Funny, coming from the guy with five knives hidden in his boot and a death wish.”

Another round of gunfire rang out closer this time. You both ducked instinctively, his body shielding yours without a word as he pulled you into a room to hide. You froze, just for a second, with his shoulder brushing yours and the warm pressure of his hand steadying you behind your ribs.

Your eyes met. The world blurred around the edges.

Something cracked.

The space between you wasn’t wide, wasn’t safe. It had been pulled tighter and tighter through months of snark, bruises, bullet wounds, glitter bombs, and unspoken care. And now it felt like the only logical conclusion was combustion.

“This is insane,” You muttered, your voice barely audible over the chaos.

“Yeah,” He agreed, still close to you. “We’re gonna die, aren’t we?”

You looked at him, seeing the blood at his temple, the sharp lines of frustration, the flicker of something else entirely under his words. You saw everything that had gone unspoken.

Maybe it was the adrenaline. Or the fear. Or maybe you were just done pretending. But whatever the reason, you surged forward.

The kiss wasn’t soft. It was frantic and rough and tasted like dirt, smoke, and months of unresolved tension. You grabbed the front of his suit; he pulled you closer like he’d been waiting for this since your first argument over coffee. The world was still burning around you, but for a second, it didn’t matter.

When you pulled back, breathless and stunned, he stared at you like he’d been hit by something harder than any punch he’d ever taken.

“That was…” He started.

“Shut up,” You said. “Don’t ruin it.”

He blinked, then huffed a laugh, the real kind. Warm and sharp and barely hidden behind years of practiced scowling. “Took you long enough.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me? I kissed you.”

He smirked. “Right. That’s why my knees went weak.”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks flushed despite the danger. “We still have to get out of here alive.”

Bucky’s smile softened just enough to make your chest ache. “Then let’s finish this. Fast. So I can do that again properly.”

You reloaded, nodded, and moved out together, side by side, like always.

Only now, everything had changed.

The Tower was quiet when you got back. Mission was technically successful with the intel secured, the bodies left behind, and the bruises already starting to bloom beneath your jacket. You showered, changed, limped a little too dramatically down the hall, and did the most responsible thing you could think of: you avoided Bucky Barnes.

You didn’t mean to. But after the kiss, your entire nervous system had gone haywire. You weren’t used to him being real with that warm, rough voice in your ear when he said he wanted to do it again. It’d been easier when he was just a rival, a nuisance, a sarcasm-laced headache wrapped in leather and trauma.

Now he was something else. Someone who kissed you like you were gravity itself.

So you hid.

He gave you a full twelve hours.

You were in the common room the next morning, pretending to read a mission report, but mostly just sipping lukewarm coffee and staring into the distance like a haunted Victorian widow. Until the door opened.

You didn’t need to look up. The energy shifted immediately. You felt him walk in, heard his boots heavy, and presence heavier. You took another slow sip of your coffee.

“You’re sulking,” He said from across the room.

“I’m not.”

“You’re avoiding me.”

“I avoid a lot of things,” You replied. “Dentists. Feelings. You’re not special.”

He stepped closer, the weight of him familiar now in a way that made your skin feel too tight. “So the kiss didn’t happen?”

You closed the file and set it aside, keeping your tone carefully casual. “Adrenaline makes people do weird things.”

“Right,” He said, voice dry. “So next time we’re in a life-or-death situation, I should expect you to confess your love to Steve or kiss a vending machine.”

You looked up sharply. “I don’t love anyone.”

He tilted his head. “Didn’t say you did.”

You hated him a little in that moment, not really, not at all but enough to scowl and mutter, “Why are you even here?”

“Because I don’t want that to be something we pretend didn’t happen.”

Your breath caught. He sat across from you, elbows on his knees, expression unusually open. Honest in a way that made your stomach twist.

“You’re a pain in my ass,” He began. “You drive me crazy. You’re reckless and loud and allergic to sitting still. But I’ve never met anyone who makes me laugh the way you do. Or who I’d trust to watch my back in a fight. Or who’d glue my knife belt to the ceiling and still patch me up afterward.”

Your mouth opened, but nothing came out.

He leaned forward, gentler now. “I meant it. When I said I wanted to kiss you again.”

You stared at him. Then down at your coffee, then back at him.

“…This doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop putting glitter in your boots,” You said finally.

He smirked. “Wouldn’t expect you to.”

You hesitated. Then sighed and leaned across the table, grabbing his shirt collar and tugging him into a kiss, softer this time. Slower. No adrenaline, no smoke. Just you and him, in the quiet.

When you pulled back, you grinned faintly. “You really are kind of obsessed with me.”

He exhaled a laugh. “Yeah. I really am.”

-

BONUS:

By the end of the week, everyone knew.

You thought you were being subtle. A few quiet looks, the occasional shoulder bump in the hallway, a shared smirk during mission briefings. But Avengers Tower was a den of spies, assassins, super-soldiers, and gossip. You had no chance.

The first to say something out loud was Clint.

You walked into the kitchen one morning, bleary-eyed and in desperate need of caffeine, only to find Clint already there, sipping from his mug. He glanced up, looked from you to Bucky trailing in behind you with his usual scowl and morning hair, and just grinned.

“Oh,” He said, like a man who had just confirmed a winning bet. “You two finally stopped fake-hating each other?”

You reached past him for a mug, unbothered. “We still hate each other. Just with tongue now.”

Clint snorted so hard he spilled his coffee. “Jesus.”

Bucky, behind you, didn’t say a word, just patted Clint on the back as he passed, expression entirely neutral. Clint looked personally betrayed.

Later that day, Natasha cornered you in the elevator.

She didn’t say anything at first. Just leaned back against the mirrored wall, arms crossed, and gaze sharp. You kept your eyes on the floor numbers.

Finally, she said, “I had fifty bucks on you being the one to kiss him first.”

You blinked. “There were bets?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Please. There were charts. Steve ran the bracket.”

“…Steve?!”

Speaking of Steve, he found you both in the training room a few days later, sparring in what could only be described as borderline flirt-fighting. You’d just knocked Bucky on his ass (with some help from gravity and a well-timed insult), and were grinning down at him when Steve cleared his throat.

Bucky didn’t move. “Don’t say it.”

“I’m not saying anything,” Steve said, holding up his hands. “I’m just impressed. You made it a whole six months before punching each other turned into making out.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re the one who made us partners.”

He looked at you both, sweaty, bruised, smiling like idiots, then sighed. “You’re each other’s problem now. Don’t drag me into it.”

Sam was the worst. Every time you walked into a room, he’d do the voice.

“Well well well, if it isn’t the Tower’s resident enemies-to-lovers plotline.”

One time, you and Bucky entered the kitchen holding hands. Sam immediately stood and slow-clapped.

Bucky just turned around and walked back out.

Tony? He didn’t even blink. Just tossed you a keycard to one of the private Tower suites and said, “Soundproofed. You’re welcome. And for the love of all that’s holy, don’t ruin the common couch.”

And Bruce…

Bruce looked up from his tablet one afternoon and said casually, “So when’s the wedding?”

You choked on your water while Bucky left the room.

Eventually, you stopped pretending.

You still bickered like cats in a sack. You still pranked each other with glitter bombs, hair dye in shampoo bottles, or emotionally incriminating Spotify playlists over the Tower speakers. But now there were quiet moments too. An arm around your waist on late nights. Soft smiles when one of you thought the other wasn’t looking. Kisses stolen between missions, sometimes bloody, sometimes breathless.

The whole team may have seen it coming before either of you did. But in the end, no one could deny it:

You and Bucky were still frenemies.

Just… now with benefits, bruises, and a whole lot more trouble for anyone who got between you.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Look, Don't Touch 5

Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, stalking, breaking and entering, possible blood and violence, and femcel energy. Tags are not exhaustive and more may be added as the series progresses.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You get bored of watching and that makes you careless. (dark!reader)

Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Note: mondayyyyyy

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like snakes love Woody’s boots. Take care. 💖

You blow a raspberry as you stare at the shadows on the wall. You can hear them. Mostly Bucky rumbling on with whatever excuses he has for the mess he’s made. Steve’s a hero, sure, he has his code, and you don’t presume to know his opinions, that’s very parasocial, but you don’t think he’d approve of all this. 

You narrow your eyes as you ponder on that. Steve Rogers. Captain America. The golden boy. Hmmm. 

“Someone,” you make your voice willowy as you call out, “please,” you sniff deeply, “can you help me? Please? I’m in a lot of pain.” 

Yellow light streams down the hall as a door opens. Bucky snarls, “don’t” but the footsteps elude him. Steve comes out into the glow of the entry way and flips on the switch in the front room. He looks at you with barely concealed confusion. 

You swallow blood and spit and cough. You can’t help but smile as fuzziness pulses through you. You’ve sat in crowded cafes, hidden, watching him. You’ve had close brushes with him, but this is different. You’re in his space and he sees you. Also, you are naked. 

“Cap?” You bat your lashes and squeeze out some tears. “Please, help me. He did this to me.” 

He stops a foot from you and stares. You gaze back at him; light-headed. It could be the concussion or his presence but you’re floating. You blink and try to latch onto the act. You’re losing it here. 

“Steve--” 

“You broke in?” He asks. 

Your forehead crinkles and you look at your lap. You exhale. 

“I’m homeless. I just... I needed somewhere to stay and I wasn’t going to take anything--” 

“Bull. Shit.” Bucky enters and grabs the notebook from behind the couch. He struts over to Steve and slaps it against his chest. “It’s all in here.” 

Your eyes dart between them. You’re sitting there, bloodied in a chair, you definitely aren’t the perpetrator here. 

“I don’t know where that came from. It’s not mine. It’s all a mistake,” you snivel and cough again, this time letting the blood dribble out. “Please...” 

Steve looks down at the notebook. Bucky lets go and marches around him. He swipes up your phone. 

“She has videos of you. Don’t listen to her. Steve. How long have you known me?” 

Steve frowns and slowly peels his eyes away from you. He opens the notebook. You deflate and leans back. Well, you tried. 

He paces as he reads then stops and sits. He curls his shoulders as he leans forward and squints at your writing. He turns the page, then another. Bucky stands behind him, arms crossed, chest puffed up, victorious. 

Steve sits up and puts the book on the cushion. “Jesus, Buck, why didn’t you call the police?” 

“We both know what they do with these cases,” Bucky counters. “Steve, you have to deal with this.” 

“How?” He stands and spins around. “You want me to torture her? Kill her?” 

Bucky sighs and clucks. “She’s a maniac. This isn’t the first time--” 

You stare at Steve’s back, his shoulders, his perfectly forged figure. You clench and bite your lip. Here you are, tired up, at his mercy. You think about the videos, those nights watching from the roof, him and those modelesque puppets. 

“Cap,” you pipe up. “You can do whatever you want to me.” 

He flinches then faces you. You tilt your head and wink, wiggling in the seat. Fuck any sense, you’re right there in front of him. You can die happy. 

He brings his hand just below his nose and drags it over his mouth and jaw. He heaves and shakes his head. You see the doubt needling in his forehead, the tension bulging in that vein along his neck. 

“It’s true. I’ve been watching you. I have seen everything. And I loved it,” you babble. “The way you toss those girls around. You’re so rough, your so... mpph,” you moan. “Steve, you can do all of that and more with me and I’ll beg for more. I’ll let you do things those girls would cry about.” 

“Fucking christ,” Bucky exclaims. “See, Steve, I told you--” 

“And what were you about to do when I walked in?” He spins back to his partner-in-crime. Literally. At this point, Steve is an accessory. 

Bucky huffs, “look. I’ve been here for days, keeping her under control, for you. I’m covering your ass. If I hadn’t caught her--” 

“What? Look at her? What could she do?” 

“I wouldn’t ever hurt you, Captain,” you avow. 

“Shut up!” Bucky barks. “Steve.” 

“We gotta let her go.” 

“What?!” 

“Yeah. You’ve done enough. I think she gets it.” 

“Does she?” Bucky stomps around. “You untie her right now and she’s going straight for you.” 

“I’ll be on my knees,” you purr. 

“She has a whole set-up, Steve. She can get in here. That means she can get a lot of places. She has videos, I don’t know that they’re all here. That they aren’t stored somewhere waiting to be sent out across the internet. We let her walk and she will hurt you in other ways.” 

Steve rolls his shoulders, “I don’t know. I don’t know,” he throws his hands up. “Bucky, what’s wrong with you? Why—I can’t think. I can’t--” He stops and peeks at you again. “Give her some clothes at least. Clean her up.” 

“Thank you, Captain,” you preen. 

“I’m going to break your goddamn jaw,” Bucky snarls. 

“No, no more hurting her,” Steve jabs his finger in his face. “Get her a shirt or something and... let her lay down. I gotta... I need to sleep, Bucky.” He looks around and tuts. “Look at this place.” 

“Fine,” Bucky grits his teeth and glares at you. “I’ll clean it up. All of it.” 

“I mean it. No more,” Steve orders. 

“That’s right, sergeant, be a good little puppy and listen to your captain,” you taunt. 

Steve twitches and looks over his shoulder. His eyes slit and he pokes his tongue in his cheek. “Right. Everyone get some sleep and we’ll figure it out. Tomorrow.” 

You wait until Steve is gone before you cackle. Bucky shakes his head. You grin and wiggle on the seat, “you said you’d do your job like a good boy.” 

“You are fucked.” 

“You were close but no,” you pout mockingly. “And I missed out on a few pathetic seconds of winter dick, mmm, sad.” 

“You don’t stop.” 

“It’s been two days and you don’t get it,” you sneer. 

“I wasn’t going to--” 

“You were going to.” You insists. You peer past him, leaning as far as you can, “I think he likes me.” 

“Pfft, what the fuck makes you think that?” 

“You didn’t see how he looks at me.” 

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure, he was all googly eyed--” 

“Oh don’t get me wrong, I don’t want that white picket fence, I just want a piece.” You squirm thirstily. “Yeah, woo, just a taste.” 

Bucky tisks and waves you off. He stomps out and returns with a grey shirt. It’s Steve’s. You’re giddy at the thought of wearing his clothing. Bucky gets you out of the chair and pulls it over your head. He wipes your face gruffly and gives you water to rinse out your mouth. He bends you over the sink as you do to keep you from spitting it at him. 

He hauls you back and walks you to the sofa. He shoves you down so you bounce. You turn to look over your shoulder at the end of the hallway. He snaps his fingers and growls. 

“I’m watching you all night so don’t fucking try it,” he jeers. 

“He said he wants sleep,” you face him again. “I only take captain’s orders, sergeant.” 

You push your shoulders up then lower yourself onto your side. You nestle in and hum. You close your eyes and pull a pillow under your head. 

“That’s much better,” you sigh. 

📷

You sleep.  Not well. But you sleep. Your guard dog is back on his leash and waiting for the captain to let him off. He might be disappointed. 

As the sun beams over you, you remain languid on the cushions. The idiot is in the kitchen, snapping cupboards, sighing over the grind of the coffee maker. You're perfectly content to wait and see. This is exciting. Your regret is chipping away little by little. 

How long did you spend in the shadows? Watching? Waiting for something but you just couldn't accept what. Now you know. 

Against all odds, against every effort, you wove your way into Steve's life. It's not ideal but you're not a romantic. It just feels good to be acknowledged.  

You sit up as you hear footsteps down the hall. He's coming. You're almost giddy. Like one of those fan girls lined up at the cons making those icons pose in the most cringe photos. Oof. 

Steve glances at you but doesn't speak. He continues onto the kitchen. Bucky meets him in the doorway. 

"Morning," the latter greets. 

Steve exhales heavily, "I gotta talk to her." 

"Sure." 

"Alone," he insists. 

Your heart leaps. You and Steve alone? Ooh. You'll be happy just for the break from the winter bummer. 

"Steve," Bucky says, "you really shouldn't--" 

"I think I have the right to get the truth from her. Not you." 

"Steve," Bucky pleads a second time. 

"How long have we know each other? Trust that I know what I'm doing," Steve argues. 

"It isn't you I'm worried about." 

A huff and a click of his tongue is Bucky's surrender. You turn yourself straight and sit up on the sofa. You wait patiently. 

"Guess I'll go for a run," Bucky mutters. 

"Sure, that works," Steve agrees. 

You’re calm. It’s not easy. After days being tied up, you’re already restless but the prospect of having your moment. That’s enough to make you jitter. 

Bucky stomps out and sends you a glower. You resist a smile and return only a yawn. He rolls his eyes and keeps going. Steve lingers in the kitchen, biding his time. You wonder if he’s scared. That would be hilarious. 

The air thickens and you look out the windows. Your heart is racing. You keep your gaze toward the city. You don’t want to embarrass yourself. 

“Going,” Bucky calls and you ignore the heat of his glare. The door slams and he’s gone. 

You wait. Finally, you sense him. You look at Steve as he stands in the archway to the kitchen. He steps out and crosses the room. He rounds the mess on the floor and puts a mug next to your elbow.  

“Don’t know if you drink coffee,” he says. 

He grabs a throw blanket from the chest near the window and throws it over you. 

“Thank you, Captain,” you mewl and stare at him. He swallows tightly and backs up. He crosses his arms and sighs. He brings a hand up to rub his cheek. 

“I saw the videos.” 

You don’t flinch. You just nod. He squints. 

“You’re not going to deny it?” 

“Well, there’s no point, right?” You shrug. “Your buddy can hear my heart, you must be able to.” 

“Sure, uh,” he taps his fingers against his neck. 

“You don’t have to be shy,” you slide forward on the seat and he drops his arms. You show your palms. “I’m not going to do anything. Promise. Really, Steve.” You clutch your hands together, almost in a prayer. “I will do anything you want. I'll let you do anything you want. Even if it’s... you know, the end.” 

He blanches and shakes his head. He pinches his nose. He turns his back to you. 

“You don’t have to feel bad,” you breathe. His shoulders are perfectly formed, and his waist... he is truly a super soldier. Not like that other one. Ew, why are you thinking of Bucky? “Just the fact you know about me, I can die happy--” 

“You really think I would kill you?” He hisses and faces you. “I’m an avenger.” 

“You are but I've also seen how you treat woman. I remember that little one you choked. Thank god she woke up, right?” 

“Stop,” he demands. You obey eagerly and seal your lips. “I didn’t find that video.” 

“Yeah, I didn’t get that one,” you lean on the armrest and pick at the cuff still on your wrist. “Wait... Steve? You think I would do something like that? Blackmail you? Expose you?” 

“Well, you did watch me...” 

“I did but not because—not to do that,” you teeter on the edge of the couch. “Steve, I worship you. I wanted to be the one you crushed into these cushions.”  

You slither onto the floor and land on your knees. The blanket falls away from you. You bend forward and put your hands on the floor. You crawl to him slowly. 

“I would do anything for you. Anything. And you don’t have to hold back. I can take it all.” You sit on your heels and look up at him. You know you’re not beauty, you’re nothing special, but you’re what he needs. You’re malleable. Disposable. “Please, you can put it anywhere you want.” 

He combs his hands through his hair then rubs his eyes. He looks down at you. He pushes his shoulder wide and steps back. He squats down to come level with you. You chew your lip and wiggle as your core thrums. 

“I saw your videos. Do you want to see mine?” He asks evenly. 

You blink, “videos?” 

He looks you up and down and his cheek ticks. He stands and strides away. Now that’s unexpected. 

He disappears. You glance at the door. You could go. You could make a run for it. You don’t want to. 

He returns with his phone in hand. He stands before you again as he flicks his finger over the screen. He turns it and extends it down to you. You strain to see it. 

Of course, with all the security, he has this whole place cammed up. You didn’t think to check. You figured hacking would be much more trouble than doing everything yourself. And riskier. None of that matters now. 

You watch the screen. You can tell exactly where the camera’s located. Bucky has you in the tub, working the hose between your legs as you growl and squirm. You can’t hear anything but you remember it all so clearly. You tilt your head then look up at Steve. 

He’s smiling. 

“You’re right, sweetheart. I can use you.” He blacks out the screen and puts the phone in his pocket. He bends and cups your chin, angling your head further back. “And I will.” 

[writeonwhiskey]

act like you love me: ch 7 (18+) MDNI

a/n: this is coming out at this random hour because i forgot to send out the snippet on the mailing list again and i feel bad 😔 enjoy! word count: 4,780 tracklist: love untold, railway (i've once again placed in the chapter where these songs were most impactful while writing if you wanna feel that vibe out) [ fic master list ]

7 - The Scene After the Scene

WEEK 6 (continued)

Getting through that rehearsal took all the thoughts and prayers. It was a constant barrage of physical contact with Hyunjin after three days of being apart. Granted, that’s not a lot of time, when you think about it, but you haven’t gone more than a day without seeing him since you started filming.

You didn’t expect to miss him. You didn’t expect to leave set wanting more.

But you did. And you still do.

A few weeks ago, you couldn’t have fathomed feeling remotely fond about that man, let alone yearning to be near him. But in the time that has passed, you’ve seen and learned so much that opposes your initial assumptions of him. His gentle, compassionate side has been on display more frequently and that, combined with all that continues to shift between you—since dinner, since the club, since the camping trip—is threatening to undo your professionalism.

It’s a continuously growing revelation.

The biggest takeaway from today, though, is that Chan approved of the choreographed scene. He sat and listened to the suggestions you and Hyunjin had come up with for the filming style, too. You’re beyond thankful to Chan for being willing to work with you, and to Hyunjin for helping you voice your concerns, addressing them, and eagerly working to make it something you’re comfortable with having on screen.

After you wrapped for the day, you were tempted to hang around in your trailer until Hyunjin finished but figured it would be best not to.

However, since coming back to your hotel room, all you’ve thought about is the potential repercussions of pursuing something physical with Hyunjin. But with the way that rehearsal went down, you also considered how good it might feel when the layers of clothing are finally removed.

You close your eyes, sinking into the couch as you imagine the feeling of his hands touching every part of your body, his lips trailing kisses down your stomach and your pussy quivers at the thought. You bite your bottom lip, hand creeping toward the waistband of your pajama bottoms.

You have to be professional at work. But when you’re home alone…

Your phone suddenly buzzes next to you, and you startle, heart pounding as if you’ve been caught. Your eyes widen, reading the name on the screen: Persistent Prince 👑.

Why right now?

Is this a sign?

Or maybe an omen?

You contemplate letting it go to voicemail, but you’re too curious and too hopeful right now. You clear your throat, press the answer button and put the phone to your ear.

“Do you bother all your co-workers this much?” you ask dryly, as if you weren’t just about to diddle your fucking bean to thoughts of him.

“No. Just you.” He replies and your heart smiles. “So, you’re up?”

“Clearly.”

“You busy?” he asks, ignoring your sarcasm.

Although you’ve always spoken to each other this way, it doesn’t have the same weight of pettiness and bickering as it once did.

You quirk a brow. “Why?”

“Meet me in the lobby in thirty minutes.”

“What if I’m busy?”

“If you were you wouldn’t have answered. Unless…” he trails off.

“Unless…?”

“You’ve been waiting for my call.” You can practically hear the smile in his voice. “See you in thirty.”

He hangs up, giving you no time to accept or decline.

You could disregard the invite and stay cooped up in your room for the night. In fact, that’s probably the best choice.

But you’re already standing from the couch, forsaking that logical little voice in the back of your mind. You head straight to the bedroom, puzzled about what to wear. He didn’t mention a dress code. Jeans and a t-shirt? Or something sexier? He did seem to like your outfit at the club a lot.

No. The least you can do is not tip this in that direction by wearing anything too thought-provoking. You’re just going to hangout. That’s it. Jeans and a t-shirt it is.

Thirty minutes later you’re standing in the lobby of the hotel, looking around nervously for fear that Minho or Han might see you. But you remind yourself that you hang out with them all the time.

This wouldn’t seem any different...

Hyunjin emerges from the other elevator moments after you. He’s clad in dark clothing, a hat pulled low and covering far too much of his features. He gestures towards the exit, and you walk out together.

“Where are we going?” you ask as Changbin takes off.

“You’ll see when we get there,” he replies.

You hide your smile. A surprise?

“What made you call out of the blue?” you ask.

“We didn’t have a lot of time together on set today.”

You can’t be sure, but it feels like an ‘I missed you’ is hidden in there somewhere.

You missed him, too.

When you arrive to the destination, Hyunjin gets out first and holds the door open.

“Thank you, Changbin,” you say on the way out.

“I’ll text you when we’re done.” Hyunjin says, leaning in the car to speak to Changbin.

“I’m going to bed. It’s a thirty-minute walk back. You’ll be fine.” Changbin replies.

Hyunjin huffs, shaking his head as he closes the door. “It’s hard to find good help these days.”

You nudge him playfully with your shoulder.

“An illusion museum?” you ask, reading the sign above the entrance.

Hyunjin grins. “Thought we could use a night of fun.”

[song: love untold]

Inside, the place is quiet—almost closing time—which means you have most of it to yourselves. The first room is a giant mirrored maze, and you’re both immediately separated, laughter echoing off the glass as you keep running into your own reflections.

“You good?” Hyunjin calls.

“No,” you say between laughs. “I’m fucking nauseous—there’s too many of us.”

Eventually, you find him again—his face breaking into a relieved smile. And for a second you just stand there, facing each other. Reflections of the two of you ripple across every surface, warped and multiplied. It’s a perfect representation for the situation you’re in—endless possibilities and outcomes.

He reaches out and your hands meet against the mirror first, to which you both chuckle. Then he finds the real you and laces his fingers through yours to pull you close.

“There you are.” He places a quick peck to your lips.

You bite your bottom lip to keep from smiling too widely.

“Next room,” you suggest, pulling away.

In the upside-down kitchen, Hyunjin jumps into character, pretending to stir invisible soup from the ceiling, and insists on snapping photos with the worst angles imaginable.

“You’re going to regret these,” you warn. But as you scroll back through them, he’s perfectly photogenic in every single one, regardless of the angle. “Your face is so unfair.”

“You can thank my mother.”

“Not your dad?”

“Maybe for my humor,” he shrugs.

At the forced perspective wall, you pretend to be a towering giant while he crouches small in the corner. “This is kinda how you make me feel on set,” he teases. “Tiny.”

You continue throughout the other rooms, your bodies like magnets. You drift apart for a while when exploring and taking pictures but come back to each other’s side right after. He holds your hand a few more times, steals a few more kisses. And after a while you stop acting like it annoys you.

When you’ve gone through all the exhibits, he thanks the employee for letting you stick around after closing and you exit.

“Convenience store run?” he suggests when you’re outside.

You hesitate. This would be a good time to call it a night. That would be the wise and responsible choice. But you did just have fun with him, doing something completely normal and nothing like the NC-17, perhaps XXX, content that’s been plaguing your mind.

And yet, you don’t feel like you’ve had enough time with him.

You still want more.

“Yeah,” you reply, smiling.

You walk in the direction of the hotel and stop at the first convenience store. The inside is fluorescent and freezing. You each grab a green basket at the entrance and start down the aisles like it’s a timed competition. Hyunjin tosses in triangle kimbaps, banana milks, and a pack of shrimp chips without hesitation. You, more thoughtfully, grab ramyeon, a bar of dark chocolate, and two bottles of water.

You both come to a stop at the wall filled with a wide array of gummy snacks.

“You’re going for sweet and spicy,” he observes, peeking into your basket. “Classic.”

“You’re going for chaos,” you reply, eyeing the random snack combo he’s put together. “Is this your usual dinner?”

He shrugs. “Tonight’s my last cheat night. I’ll be hitting the gym every day now until the shirtless scene.”

You gulp.

Hyunjin shirtless is the last thing you should be picturing about right now.

Your eyes travel to his chest of their own accord, but you quickly avert your attention to the gummies on the shelf and grab a peach pack.

You don’t even like that flavor.

“Do you want to make the ramyeon here and eat outside?” you ask.

“Is there another option?”

“We could go back to the hotel…” you trail off, letting the offer linger in the air.

“To our separate rooms?” he tilts his head to the side.

“Depends if you know how to cook without burning down the place,” you tease. “…but we could go to my room.”

“You okay with that?”

You shrug. You’ve done well keeping yourself in check so far. You can handle this.

Maybe.

He pays for your haul and you resume the twenty-minute walk back to the hotel. It’s mostly a silent trek, and you can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking. He knows this is a bad idea too, doesn’t he?

On the elevator ride up, you’re racking your brain for the state you left it in. You’ve made a conscious effort to keep it relatively clean and if anything is out of place, he doesn’t comment on it when you enter.

You advise him to sit at the table while you take the bags into the kitchen, but he doesn’t listen. He’s at your side, opening cabinets and drawers, taking out cooking utensils and seasonings.

“Please, you’re a guest.”

“Fine.” He says, after taking out a pair of bowls and setting them next to the stove.

“Get comfortable—you can take off your disguise,” you tell him.

He pushes off his hood and removes his hat before sitting on one of the barstools across from where you’re prepping.

Your hotel smells like garlic within minutes. You’re stirring a pot of noodles, vaguely aware of Hyunjin looking more at you than the food.

“You actually know what you’re doing,” he says.

“Shocking, I know.” You toss him a playful look over your shoulder. “I feed myself like a grown-up.”

“You’re ruining my image of you.”

“And what was that?”

He grins. “Someone who survives entirely off iced americanos and anxiety.”

You snort, putting the noodles into the bowls and sliding one in front of him. “You’ve got me mixed up with Han.

“That’s actually pretty accurate,” he laughs, picking up his chopsticks to take a bite. He blows on the noodles before slurping them up. The look on his face giving away just how hot they are. “This is really good,” he manages to get out.

“You sound surprised…again.”

“I am surprised. You’re hiding all these domestic skills.”

“Guess we’re both full of secrets.”

The clink of chopsticks against ceramic takes over for a moment as you both eat.

“I like this,” he says eventually.

“What?”

“Hanging out with you.”

There’s that openness again—the thing that sneaks up on you when he stops trying to be amusing, or charming, or anything else.

You opt not to respond verbally, nodding your head instead.

He offers you the last bite of his triangle kimbap, and you shake your head, but he leans forward anyway, holding it out.

You sigh at the weight of this gesture. You can deny your feelings all you want, but he doesn’t seem to have any intention of doing the same. You take the offered bite from his hand.

When you’ve both finished eating, Hyunjin insists on washing the dishes, not accepting your rebuttal that he’s a guest. So, you sit sideways on the couch and watch him work, making small talk. He tells you he has a few more projects coming up after this to finish out the rest of the year and won’t have a real break until December. You finally tell him about your conversation with Chan.

“KBS?” he repeats. “No shit?”

You nod.

“Are you going to do it?”

“My agent thinks I should. But I don’t know if it’s the right career move…”

He’s silent for a moment as he continues scrubbing at the dishes.

“Do you want my input?”

You don’t know when it was that you came to rely on his guidance, but you’ve stopped questioning what he tells you career-wise as anything other than helpful. He always seems to put you first, more so even than your agency.

“Please.”

“I think you should take it. Chan’s right about that—it’s a great opportunity. It will be good publicity for our show, but it also gives the general public a chance to fall in love with you,” he says, and your brain gets stuck on how those last four words sound falling from his lips. “All it takes is one high ranking exec’s teenage kid to start blabbering about how great you are, and they’ll be calling you up with more work.”

He dries his hands and comes to sit on the couch, his right thigh just near your feet.

“You think so?”

“I know so. I understand what you’re up against, but you’re really kind of amazing and I don’t think you see that the way everyone else does.”

“Situations like that interview tend have a longer lasting impression than anything positive,” you say.

“Fuck that guy.” He repeats his sentiments from a few days ago. “It’s easy to let the negativity cling to you in this industry. You can’t let it.”

You nod.

He glances around the room before turning to you with a smirk. “Alright, you’ve seen my art, my hidden passion. Where’s yours?”

“I don’t have a penthouse suite, so I packed light,” you tell him.

“Pity,” he clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

You smack him on the arm.

“There’s gotta be something you come home to unwind to.”

“I really didn’t bring anything,” you shrug. “I do have a Lego collection of landmarks from around the world at home. My dad is in the army, and he’d get me one of every place he was stationed, and I’ve just kept up with it on my own.”

“That’s nerdy. But cute.”

“Don’t make me hurt you, Hyunjin.”

He smirks. “I could be into that.”

You offer a small chuckle to brush it off.

He lifts your legs from beside him and drapes them across his lap, his hands resting on top. He doesn’t touch you beyond that, doesn’t bring you closer. He just looks—at your face, your mouth, your eyes—and suddenly, it’s quieter than it should be.

You speak first, wanting to lighten the air. “Do you always stare at people like this?”

“Only when I’m trying not to do something stupid,” he murmurs.

You swallow, looking down at his hands, unsure whether you should pull your legs away, or move yourself closer.

“Tell me not to,” he says. “And I won’t.”

You must stay silent for too long. Because without warning, his hands grab your hips, sliding you toward him until the back of your thighs are pressed against him. Your pulse quickens at the sudden movement—the closeness.

You look up, meeting his gaze. “We shouldn’t.”

His eyes drop to your mouth again, lingering there for a moment.

“Is that a no?”

You know you shouldn’t. He knows you shouldn’t. And yet, you shake your head anyways, and he leans in slowly, giving you time to move or change your mind.

But you don’t.

When his lips meet yours, it’s gentle at first. His body is tense, like he’s still holding back. But when you wrap your arms around his neck, hands caressing his head, you feel the change in him. He really kisses you then. No hesitation. His mouth claims yours, tongue slipping between your lips like he owns you already.

You’re both aching with everything unspoken—the stolen glances, the unfinished thoughts, the pent-up energy and tension from filming and rehearsing. But you can’t shake how good it feels to be connected to him like this. And you still want more.

You break the kiss, resting your forehead against his as you both catch your breath. You pull away, leaning back until you’re lying flat on the couch. You keep your eyes on him, grabbing his shirt to pull him closer. He readjusts you, then himself before settling on top of you, fitting between your legs as if he belongs there.

He kisses you again and when you arch your back, pressing your chest into him, his hands snap to your sides like he needs to hold you still or he’ll lose control.

“Take it easy,” he warns against your lips.

Was he intending only to kiss? Perhaps that would be okay…

But the heat between your thighs says that it’s not.

So, you nip at his bottom lip and rock your hips up, slow and purposeful. He groans as a small gasp escapes you, feeling the pressure of his cock through his jeans, right where you need it.

He drags his mouth down to your jaw, then lower. His teeth graze your skin, and you tilt your head to give him more access. You slip your fingers beneath his shirt, nails lightly gliding across bare skin. He shivers.

He leans back just enough to look at you, cheeks flushed.

“What about thinking? And not letting the moment get the best of you?”

You never thought you’d curse a man for actually remembering the things you say.

[song: railway]

“This doesn’t feel like just a moment,” you softly admit. “And…I want to.”

You roll your hips again. This time he grabs them tight, grinding down into you with a low groan.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Maybe just this once?” you try to roll your hips again but his grip on you is too tight.

“To get it out of our system?”

“And then back to professional?”

Neither of you answer a single question asked.

Then, his hands leave your hips and in seconds, his shirt is gone.

You stare. His torso is lean and defined—not gym obsessed perfection, but real. Beautiful. His eyes scan your face as he reaches for your shirt. You sit up a little and raise your arms.

Your bra comes off next. You unhook it yourself, letting the straps fall, feeling shy as his gaze roves over you like he’s never seen tits before. He covers you, bodies flush now, every inch of you ignited. His mouth crashes against yours, hungrier, rougher.

Your heart is fluttering and racing all at once. It’s overwhelming, how much you want him—how long you’ve been trying not to. And he’s kissing you like he needs this just as badly as you do.

You’re both too far gone now.

He groans when your hand slips beneath the waistband of his jeans. You cup his cock over his briefs and squeeze gently.

“Take your pants off,” you whisper.

He lets out a sharp breath and sits up, shoving his jeans down, boxers still on but strained against his cock. You push your jeans down, too, kicking them out of the way.

He stays upright on the couch, pulling you into his lap this time, your thighs straddling his. His fingers skim your waist, dragging fire along your skin. His gaze drops between your legs.

“Red tonight, huh?” he comments, to which you chuckle.

He kisses your breasts, alternating between taking one in his mouth and circling his thumb around the other, gentle at first, then firmer when your hips grind against him. The little fabric still separating you is such a fucking tease, but the added friction feels good.

“Fuck, y/n,” he groans.

You grind your hips again.

“It shouldn’t feel this good, right?”

“It really fucking shouldn’t.” He agrees, leaning back on the couch to just watch you please yourself.

All you can focus on is the way rubbing your pussy on his cock feels and the way he’s looking at you like you’re something sacred and sinful all at once.

He reaches down, his finger slipping between the thin material of your underwear to pull them to the side, leaving nothing between your clit and his boxers.

“Look how fucking wet you are already,” he says, as you start moaning.

But you don’t need to look. You can feel it. You can hear it.

And you want his boxers out of the way too, now. You still need more. You grind harder, locking your fingers behind his neck.

He pulls you to him, kissing a path up your chest, then your throat, nipping lightly beneath your jaw.

“Hold on to me.”

He grabs your hips suddenly and lifts you. You lock your legs around his waist, lacing his neck and shoulders with kisses as he walks down the hall to the bedroom.

This. This is what you envisioned when rehearsing.

It felt wrong to imagine it then.

But it doesn’t feel wrong right now.

The only light entering the bedroom is what drifts in from the window.

He lightly tosses you onto the bed and you move back to make room for him. You expect him to lie on top of you again, but he has other plans. He lays down flat on the bed, one hand slips up and over your thigh to grip it. With the other, he strokes a finger up and down your pussy, over your underwear, teasing you.

“Hyunjin—just take them off.”

“You want to feel my fingers on your pussy, jagiya?”

Fuck. Double fuck. Those words.

You nod, your hips circling against his finger. Your clit is pounding—begging for more.

“So fucking wet,” he murmurs.

“Hyunjin,” you plead. “Please.”

He smirks up at you before pulling your underwear to the side, planting his mouth right where you want it.

You moan, your head falls to the side, eyes shut. You were half-expecting delicate, teasing licks but his tongue is relentless, sliding up and down, lapping you up. He draws out every sound, every buck of your hips.

When the pleasure threatens to unravel you, your fingers clutch at his shoulders, desperate to bring him back to you. He finally relents, rising to his knees with a heated look in his eyes. With one hand, he slides your underwear down your legs, tossing them aside, then pushes his boxers down to free his cock.

You let out a low exhale, licking your lips at the sight. He’s thicker than you imagined—not too girthy—and already glistening at the tip, making your thighs instinctively part wider.

He shifts closer, settling between your thighs, his cock hovering just above your dripping pussy. His fingers wrap around the base, and he drags the tip slowly up and down your slit, teasing you again with every pass until he pauses at your entrance, his gaze flicking up to meet yours—like he’s asking one last time if you’re sure.

You give a subtle nod. “Come here,” you whisper, hands reaching for him.

But he just smirks, shaking his head. “I have to see your face.”

You’re spread open beneath him, vulnerable and aching.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmurs, and you feel the shift as his hips begin to slowly press forward.

He sinks deeper, inch by inch, and your mind begins to blur.

Finally.

“It’s perfect,” you breathe.

“Like a glove?” his grin is wicked.

You swat his chest. “I can’t stand you.”

Your laugh is cut short by a sharp gasp as he sinks into you fully.  

This is what your body’s been screaming for in every moment you spent pretending you didn’t want him. You feel stretched, filled, split open in the best way.

You both groan.

He moves slowly at first, unhurried. You match his rhythm, legs locked around his waist, hips tilting upward, fingers roaming his chest—memorizing the way he feels above you, inside you.

He lowers his forehead to yours, your breaths mingling.

And really does feel perfect.

He presses a kiss to your lips before pulling back, hands gripping your thighs as he starts to thrust deeper, harder. Each stroke feels like he’s letting go of something he’s been holding on to for far too long. And maybe you are too.

“You feel so fucking good, y/n,” he declares, slowing his pace just enough to make you whine. Every slow push deeper knocks the air from your lungs; every draw back has you chasing for more. “So. Fucking. Good.”

He emphasizes each word with a thrust of his hips.

“Hyunnie,” you moan.

He chuckles softly at that, his hands sliding back to your legs to unhook them from his waist. He pulls out just enough to flip you onto your side, curling himself behind you. His arm slips beneath your head, cradling you close as he pushes back inside. You gasp at the new angle—the way it lets him reach deeper, the way his chest is pressed to your back, lips brushing against your ear.

“You like when I fuck you?” he whispers.

You nod, unable to form words.

“You thought about this when we were rehearsing too, didn’t you?”

You arch into him, threading your fingers through his on the mattress as he fucks you, unrelenting now.

“My cock in your pussy—tell me how much you wanted it.” His other hand slides to your breast, gripping, kneading the soft flesh.

“So fucking bad,” you admit, breath hitching.

“Me too. I wanted to know how tight you’d feel around my cock. How wet you’d be for me.”

His voice is far too close. Saying far too many filthy things. The sound of skin slapping skin is joined by his ragged exhales and your whispered pleas—to fuck you harder, to make you come.

“You going to come for me?”

“Yes,” you whimper, thrusting back against him.

His hand leaves your breast to curl tightly around your waist, holding you right where he wants you.

“You’re mine now, jagi,” he says, voice low.

You cry out at the possessive growl in his tone.

“Hyunjin—I—I’m—”

“Let go,” he breathes. “With me. I got you.”

And you do—tumbling right over the edge, turning your face into the mattress to hide your cry. He follows soon after, groaning against your shoulder as he fills you.

And then…silence.

Except for your breaths. His chest still pressed to your back. His hand still tangled with yours.

It doesn’t feel real.

Not just the way he fucked you—like he couldn’t help himself, like he needed it—but the way he’s still holding you now.

Your heart pounds in your chest, and not just from the high you’re still coming down from. But because this wasn’t supposed to happen. Not with him. Not like this.

But now that it has, you can’t bring yourself to regret it.

“Fuck, I should have grabbed a towel,” you say, breaking the silence.

You feel the moment he starts to stir, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder, and you hear the smile in his voice when he speaks. “We could shower.”

“We’ll mess up the sheets. I don’t want to explain that to the maid.”

“It’s fine.” He shifts slightly behind you. “We can make it to the bathroom like this.”

You snort, turning your head. “You’re not seriously trying to walk like this.”

“Why not?” He grins, wrapping his arm tighter around your waist. “Teamwork.”

It’s ridiculous. And yet, you let him guide you to the edge of the bed, both of you moving in clumsy tandem, still connected, stifling giggles like teenagers.

You’re bent forward, hands braced against the wall as you inch your way toward the bathroom and he’s behind you, smug and unbothered.

By the time you reach the bathroom, you’re both breathless from laughing, from the afterglow, from everything.

Somehow, it really is perfect. And so much more than a moment that got the best of you.

a/n: FUCKING FINALLY. i hope it was worth the wait 😊 i swear the scenes where i was listening to love untold would play out as the cutest music video ever. a fun date at a museum? convenience store run? ending with them taking the elevator up, and fading to black when they enter the hotel room. do you see the vision?? and if you hit play when railway is mentioned, the beat drops in right around when he's taking his shirt off, depending on reading speed of course. its *chefs kiss* and then the undressing bits would play out kinda slowed down ahhhhh! sorry that's the filmmaker in me blabbering, i love picturing how scenes would play out as a movie/show/video etc. anyways lol, i'm going to try doing a tagging list again. please comment here or on the master list for this fic if you'd like to be added. i tweaked some settings, so hoping tumblr stops maxing me out at five people??? ready to kms over ts (jk, im just dramatic, pls) tagging those that have been commenting faithfully, so don't even ask, you're already on it my loves.

@hwangjoanna / @hanniesbubuwife / @straycat420 / @tsunderelino / @dessianna1 / @akindaflora / @tirena1 / @krayzieestay / @ehstay

[andillneverbethesame]

omg i love your writing!! could you do a taylor swift song prompt of “so high school” x james potter? potentially with a ravenclaw reader?

looove this! so high school is absolutely james coded aaaaa. this is so short but i hope u enjoy anyway<33

so high school

❥ james potter x ravenclaw!fem!reader

❥ warnings; none really

❥ word count; 1.2k

❥ my ts masterlists; pt 1 & pt 2

"oi, james!" sirius called his best mate and gestured for james to sit next to him as if he wasn't going to do that anyway.

"good morning, everybody," james smiled at his friendgroup, his eyes lingering on you a tiny bit longer than on anyone else, making your heart flutter and your cheeks to heat up. you glanced back Down on your plate in hopes to hide it.

"james," sirius spoke up again, "marry, kiss or kill; lily, marlene, y/n."

"well, we all know who'd he want to marry," marlene said in a low voice, only for you and lily to hear. lily snorted and you lightly elbowed her.

the girls were convinced that james fancies you just as much as you fancied him. however, you found that hard to believe that someone so perfect like him could like someone like you.

james frowned. "i don't like this game."

sirius rolled his eyes. "oh, come on, you just don't want to say it out loud so you don't hurt anyone's feelings." he tapped on his ear. "whisper it to me."

james lowered his head at the level of his best friend's ear and whispered his answer. you girls tried your best to read his lips but it was no use.

"oh." an amused look appeared on sirius's face and he looked at you. you stared back at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking.

come on, james. are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?

——————————————————————

the gryffindor quidditch team won the cup.

just when it seemed that they were going to lose against hufflepuffs, james caught the snitch, making the score 250 - 260 for the reds.

you were never more proud of him than in that very moment. you jumped from your seat and yelled his name in a cheering tone, clapping so hard your hands almost hurt. like if he heard you, his brown eyes found yours in the crowd. he grinned and sent you a wink and a kiss. james was thanking you, you were his lucky charm.

that night, the gryffindors threw the biggest party ever. it was many student's last game at hogwarts so it was also a goodbye party. all of the team members were there and talked about the match and their time playing together in general.

quidditch wasn't your thing. you were the stereotypical ravenclaw and you'd much rather be in your bed, under cover and reading a book. but james practically begged you to be there. after all, it was thanks to you that they won. you knew that wasn't the truth but you couldn't say no to him and you were glad you didn't. he looked so happy and beautiful and you couldn't help but admire him.

"let's play truth or dare!" marlene's voice rang through the common room and every person there agreed.

"i think i'm gonna go back to my dorm, it's late," you yelled over the loud music into james's ear.

"nooo," james pouted and give you a puppy look, he got a hold of your hand. "you can't leave now. please? just stay here for ten more minutes."

you sighed. you hated how easily you'll do anything he says.

"alright," you said and let him drag you to the circle of people in the middle of the room. a lot of people had gone to sleep already or some could be found vomiting in the bathroom so there weren't a lot of you. you sat down next to each other and waited for the game to start.

marlene picked up an empty whiskey bottle and spun it around. it landed on mary and she groaned, knowing that her friend has some of the most. . . interesting questions and dares.

"mary," marlene grinned widely. "truth or dare?"

"truth."

the blonde took a few seconds to think of a question before asking, "the freakiest place you did it at."

"that would be. . . a bed of one of my dorm mates."

"what?" lily, alice and marlene asked in terror, each of them wondering whose bed was it.

mary smiled innocently. "my turn," she spun the bottle. and then, everyone glanced at the boy beside you. you let out a sigh of relief.

"jamie, truth o—"

"dare."

a devilish smile crept onto the girl's lips.

"kiss y/n."

your eyes went wide as the people around you let out an "oooooh".

"mary!" you hissed. "what the f—"

before you could finish your sentence, you were rudely interrupted.

he tasted of— well, alcohol. rum and coke, to be exact. but it didn't matter. he was kissing you, and your whole body was on fire, your heart rate raised to at least hundred more beats per minute and fireworks. it was maybe cliché, yes. but it was the truth.

before you could fully register what the hell was happening, he was pulling away, making your lips feel cold at the sudden loss of the warmth of his mouth.

his gaze shifted from your lips to your eyes.

"i imagined our first kiss differently," he spoke in a low voice so only you could hear, sounding disappointed. he reached for the bottle and spun it around so the game could continue.

you stared at him for at least ten more seconds. you couldn't believe what just happened and what he said after.

and you started to wonder that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way.

——————————————————————

and in a blink of a crinkling eye, you were at sirius's and remus's apartment, sitting on james's lap in the living room. all of your boyfriend’s closest friends were there and just like any other saturday night, you had a film night. tonight, it was american pie.

james and you started dating only recently. it’s been a month,to be exact. so everything felt still really new. and you felt embarrassing for the fact that he still had the same effect on you like when you were bittersweet sixteen. it takes you back to the times when you used to admire him only from afar. but now, you get to kiss him. you get to touch him. 

like, for example, he was just touching you. as you tried to stifle your sighs, everyone seemed to be paying a great attention to the film. except for you two, of course. you coud not focus when james was constantly placing kisses in the crook of your neck and your shoulders.  you could not focus when one of his hands was drawing on the skin of yourupper thigh. you could not focus when his hot  breath made you shudder.

“james,”  you sighed quietly. “you got to stop.”

“and why would i do that?” he whispered back.

you rolled your eyes playfully. “you’re horrible.”

he shrugged. “you love me.”

oh, you did.

out of the blue, he spoke louder, “guys, me and y/n are sorry but we’re pretty tired so we’re headed home.”

huh?

all of your friends looked at each other and than back at you, saying “suuuuureee” in union.

“james, why are we leaving?” you ran outside after him.

he turned around and smiled. “you already know.”

“aw, we’re horrible!” you pouted playfully. “we’re abandoning our friends to have sex.”

“i’m sure they understand,” he said as he opened the door of his car. “remus and sirius used to do that all the time.”

you burst out laughing and let him pull you to the back seat.

no one’s ever had you, not like him.

[comicwritesstuff]

okay this is so incredibly specific so please feel free to ignore BUT i’ve been wanting to read a fic for ages where the reader is Chase’s childhood best friend from Australia and she moves to New Jersey for a fresh start. She’s staying with Chase while she gets settled, and one day she comes to visit him at lunch at the hospital, where she ends up meeting House and he’s… intrigued by her 👀 either romantic or smut would be so very cool :^D <33 💐

YES. I LOVE THIS PROMPT IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG BUT IM FINISHED!!!

Gregory House x Fem!Chases bsf!Reader

Warnings: None really, just cussing and tooth rotting fluff >:) 3k+ words.

Chase's POV: 

“Well I was just wondering if we could go out sometime, I think you're really-” My attention shifted as y/n's call lit up my phone, interrupting the conversation. It was a more pressing matter than pursuing a one-night stand.

“Excuse me for a moment.” I say walking away, the woman having an annoyed look on her face. 

I answer the phone.

“Hello, y/n? Whats up” 

“Chase! Long time no talk haha.”

“You called me yesterday.”

“Learn to take a joke, anyways, I have some exciting news for you.”

“I’m moving to New Jersey!!” 

“Wait what? Really?”

“Yeah, I kinda forgot to tell you and i'm actually at the airport right now, so I hope you aren't busy tomorrow so you can pick me up.”

“Wow, um alright, yeah I can pick you up, do you have a place to stay?"

“Um…no…” I sigh, “Just stay at mine for now.”

“Don't even with the sigh i’ve known you my whole life you can put the nightly hookups on hold for your best friend.” 

I smirk and shake my head, “Yeah yeah, I’ll see ya tomorrow y/n” 

Y/N’s POV:

I smile as I hang up with Chase, grabbing my luggage and pulling it along the airport. Ahh yes, crying babies, rushed parents, annoying couples and that one insanely attractive person you see for a split second, I love the airport. 

Glancing at my ticket I realize I might have to hurry to make it to the gate, speed walking I see a text from chase, “Have a safe flight.” Let's hope so. 

Time skip (to lazy to write all the details about fucking airports)

Relaxing on a 21-hour flight proved challenging, especially with a toddler nearby. It was unclear whether the toddler would be a source of annoyance or just be tolerable. The flight just started. So to entertain myself I decide to do some digging about Chase's job, he brags about it all the time and the infamous Dr Gregory House. To be honest I thought Chase was gay for a little while with how much he talks about him. Still speculating. 

The plane lifts off and I start my look, at first just looking up Gregory House, a surprising amount of things show up. An article titled, “Gregory House, Talented Doctor? Or a lying Narcissist?” Oh well that's a good first impression.   

Scrolling down I see another article, “The world's greatest doctor, and his deepest secrets” 

Now that's enticing. I click on it only to find out his deepest secrets, including using 3 in one shampoo and how his leg got hurt. I guess people hardly know anything about him. I click on the photos of him, there's only a couple, most of them blurry but to be honest he's pretty good looking from the photos I can see. I’d honestly be gay for him if I was Chase. 

The toddler next to me starts giggling, I glance at her and notice her staring at a picture of House. She's kicking her feet too. That's so relatable. 

For the rest of the flight I find some stuff about this guy named Taub, who somehow also figured out that he cheated on his wife which is why he had to quit. How did I find that out? I took a coding class in 8th grade. (I got lucky) 

Lisa Cuddy the Dean of Medicine, unfortunately only good stuff about her, boring. 

Remy Hadley, oddly, can't find anything on her. 

Eric Foreman, his brothers in jail, fun. 

And the others are just as boring. For the remainder of the flight, the toddler proved surprisingly chill. I passed the time by binge-watching random movies I had downloaded earlier

*Another time skip to plane landing* 

Finally, 21 hours on a fucking plane is horrible. 

I check my phone after I take it off airplane mode, seeing a text from chase a couple minutes ago. 

“I’m at the airport, is your flight done?”

“Yep, wya.”

“I’m parked in the front.”

“That's specific” 

“There's no other front dumbass”

I roll my eyes at his text, and get off the plane as soon as I can. I walk out and see Chase standing outside his car waiting for me. His eyes light up as he spots me, and a grin spreads across his face. Unable to resist, I rush forward and envelop him in a bear hug.

“Man you’re a lot uglier in person” 

I say jokingly, smirking.

“Oh shut up”  

We climbed into his car, and he drove us back to his apartment. When we arrive he helps get my crap into the house, before he gets a call saying he had to head to work. 

Eventually a week or two passes, I've gotten more comfortable in his apartment, applied for a bunch of jobs, and looked for places to stay so I’m not invading his “man” space anymore. Unfortunately there aren't a lot of options, and no jobs have replied to my applications, which is weird since im overqualified, it's almost like they aren’t even getting my applications in the first place. 

I’m doing the dishes when I get a text from Chase.

“Hey, I left my wallet on the counter, so I don’t have money for food, could ya bring it for me?” 

“Nah”

“See you soon”

I breathe out a laugh and grab his wallet, putting a coat on then driving to the hospital. 

When I get there I walk in, looking around before I call Chase, “Where do I go this place is huge” I can hear talking in the background, actually more like arguing. “Uhm just wait at the entrance i’ll be right there.” He says in a whisper.

He hangs up so I just stand there awkwardly waiting, that was a weird ass phone call. To be fair Chase is a weird ass guy with weird ass coworkers so what do I expect at this point. 

Before I see Chase I see Dr Gregory House, limping quickly towards me. And damn he’s even hotter in person than the pictures I saw of him. 

“Hey, no time to explain, you need to come with me.” He grabs my arm dragging me into the elevator. Before it closes I see Chase come out of the stairway, he sprints towards the elevator but it closes. I hear him trying to say something, but it's muffled and I can’t understand it. Wait why the fuck did I even follow House? 

“You're real compliant, you’d make a great hooker.” 

I turn around and side eye him.

“Thanks, so would you.” I say giving a fake smile. 

“Speaking of compliant, why did you drag me away from Chase? What's going on?’’

“I made a bet with Chase.”

“That's really specific and helpful thanks” 

“Oh yeah no problem” 

Sarcastic asshole. 

“If you don’t tell me, I'll stop following you and go with Chase.” 

He rolls his eyes.

“Fine, Mom! The bet is that I can convince you to work as my assistant here.”

“Really? That's it? I need a job. Why would Chase even bet against that?” 

“He thinks you’ll fall in love with me so he doesn’t want that to happen, in his words, “She has a thing for homeless looking, narcissistic assholes with beards.” So he’s trying to prevent it, and he’s sure he can.”  

Damn- I feel so called out. I stay silent before nodding.

“Well to be honest he isn’t wrong.” 

I see House smirk before we get out of the elevator, he hobbles and leads me to his office, locking the door then having me sit down. 

As I sit down in front of his desk, he grabs a ball and starts throwing it against the wall, while sitting down. 

“So are you gonna interview me or something?” 

“Yeah, I’m just waiting for Chase to get back up here so he can watch me interview you.” 

He really is an asshole…it's kinda hot though. 

“Fair enough.” 

We wait a bit before Chase comes jogging up to the door, out of breath, he’s clearly been running plenty. He starts banging on the glass door that House previously locked.

“House!! Y/N! Let me in! This isn’t fair!” He exclaims, House is grinning when he leans over his desk, crossing his arms.

“Okay! Let’s start this interview now.” 

“Y/n! You traitor!” 

Did I abandon my childhood best friend for some disabled doctor? No, I did it for the job. At least that's what I'm telling myself.   

Turning my attention back to House instead of the Australian cry baby outside the door, he asks me, “First question, do you want the job of being my assistant?” 

“Obviously”

“Great! You have the job!” 

I mean, easy enough. I smile and shake my head. This hospital really has some unique people. 

House shakes my hand, grinning as Chase is sitting on the floor defeated outside. 

As the days turned into weeks at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, I got to know everyone. Cuddy had to actually approve of me working as House’s assistant first, but once she saw a…normal enough individual, she welcomed me into the environment.

Getting to know House better, I found myself drawn to him in ways I hadn’t really expected. The bet between House and Chase, Chase thinking I would fall for House, I took it as a joke, until that joke turned more into reality. 

Despite House being a narcissistic piece of shit, there were small moments that I saw, or shared with him that made me fall for him. Ones where he seemed happy, or just easy to be around. At work he's serious but when Wilson dragged him out to bars, or other social environments, he could actually be fun. And though him being a dick is undeniably attractive sometimes, when he was…”himself” that's how I began to fall for him.  

One day, after an especially tough day for the team, and being forced to go break into houses and get coffee and food, I found myself alone with House in his office. The rest of the team had left, leaving us in a rare moment alone with each other. As I glanced up from the medical chart of the most recent patient, I caught House’s gaze lingering on me, his blue eyes intense and unreadable. 

“Something on your mind, House?” I asked, attempting to break the awkward silence between us. 

He smirked, leaning back in his chair with a casual ease, “Oh just wondering why a catch like yourself doesn’t have a boyfriend, or husband?” He responds, his tone laced with flirtatiousness.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his response, a faint blush on my cheeks. House and I had gained an uncanny camaraderie, made from me running around doing everyone's paperwork, being the designated “you get to tell patients they are dying!!” person. And as you’d expect people didn’t respect me a lot, but if someone was blatantly mean to me, House would step in and destroy their self esteem in a second and walk away like it meant nothing. That's another thing that I think made me fall for him. 

“Believe me, I’ve been asking myself that a lot too.” I smile, placing the medical chart on his desk. 

“Do you want a boyfriend? Or girlfriend, or a pet or something.” He quips, his eyes looking like they are reading me, studying my every movement and reaction to what he’s saying, it's flattering and uncomfortable at the same time. 

“A boyfriend would be nice.” I say reassuringly, a laugh escaping me as I shake my head in amusement.

“Alright let's say *hypothetically* I asked you out. *hypothetically* what would your response be?” 

Raising an eyebrow I ask, “Are you trying to go on a date with me?”

“I said hypothetically, now answer the question.” 

A smirk plays on my lips as I roll my eyes in a mock annoyance. 

“Well.” I say, “Hypothetically, I would say yes.” 

“Great, meet me for dinner at (some random fancy place idk u make up a name i'm too lazy to), wear something cute.” 

 With that, he sauntered out of the office, leaving me to think about what just happened. Glancing at the clock, I realized I had just enough time to get ready for our “hypothetical date.” 

The anticipation bubbled within me, standing outside (IDK A RESTAURANT NAME IT), waiting for House to arrive. My heart raced with nervous excitement, unsure what to expect from a…unique…guy like House. I had used all the time I had to work on my outfit, settling for a simple dress (or suit, or just anything you're comfy in :) ). 

As I scanned the busy street, searching for any sign of House, I heard the obnoxiously loud sound of a motorcycle approaching. House rode in, parking his bike before getting off and walking (limping) towards me. My breath caught in my throat as I saw him, he looked impossibly handsome, in a tailored suit that made his rugged charm come out, good god he looked fine. 

“Y/n,” he greeted with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners in genuine affection. “That outfit makes your ass look nice.” 

I scoff playfully, hitting his arm. “So much for acting like a gentleman, at least you look like one.” 

He chuckled, offering me his arm in a more gentlemanly gesture. “Yeah yeah, shall we?” 

With a nod, I looped my arm through his, savoring the warmth of his touch as we mad our way into the restaurant. The ambiance was elegant and inviting, with a soft candlelight casting a warm glow over the decor. 

As we were seated at a table in a quiet corner of the restaurant, I couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement in my chest. I’m finally going out with House, damn Chase was totally right. 

Throughout the evening, our conversation flowed surprisingly easily between us. I had half expected him to be rude or stuck up, but he seemed actually interested in me, in my life. He was asking questions, laughing and joking with me. Sharing stories of his own, and treating me like an actual human. Honestly it was scaring me a bit, but it was making me fall harder for him. 

House raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. ‘So, tell my Y/N. What’s the most embarrassing thing that's happened to you?” 

I laughed, shaking my head as I thought about the memory. “Well, there was this one time in college-” 

“Let me guess,” House interrupted, a smirk playing on his lips. “It involved copious amounts of alcohol and very questionable decisions?” 

I chuckle and nod in agreement. “You could say that. Long story short, I ended up streaking through the campus fountain at three in the morning. I'm pretty sure Chase might still have a video of it still.”

House raises an eyebrow, an amused laugh coming from him. “I wish I could say I was surprised, oh and also. I am finding that video.” He states, with a determined and mischievous grin. 

The dinner continues and our connection just seems to get stronger, fueled by shared laughter, stories of shit Wilson and him did in college, things Chase and I did in highschool. With each passing moment, I found myself more and more under House’s spell, captivated by the complexity of himself, his character. His gaze, laughter, even his personality. Maybe it was the wine or something, but House was being nice, he had charisma, and was being attractive in general.  

I don’t even realize that we’ve spent almost three hours in the restaurant just talking. I check my phone seeing that it's 9:30 already. We had got and paid the check awhile ago, but had stayed to talk longer. The restaurant closes at 10, and I felt a sudden pang of disappointment that our date was close to being over with. I didn’t want it to end, I was savoring this moment I was having, this seemingly perfect night. 

When the waiter arrived to take our dessert order, I couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment that the evening was drawing to a close. I wasn't ready for it to end—I wanted to savor every moment, to prolong the magic of our time together for as long as possible.

House notices my look of disappointment, “I’m aware how amazing I am, but if its up to me, this won’t be our last date.” 

A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth, my cheeks heating up as I blush. The butterflies in my stomach going absolutely insane. 

So with a quick glance around the restaurant, I rose from my seat, House grabbed my hand as he led me towards the exit. 

Stepping out into the cool night air, I felt a sense of happiness coursing through me. This was it, the beginning of a new relationship, a surprisingly healthy one so far. 

As House’s hand tightened around mine, his touch sent sparks of electricity coursing through my veins. I knew now that maybe Chase knows me better than I know myself, in all fairness he predicted this, but right now I wasn’t afraid to admit this, to admit the undeniable attraction that I had towards Dr Gregory House. 

His touch leaves mine, his hand pulling as we stand in front of the restaurant, close to each other, staring in each other's eyes. I glance at his lips before leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, not sure if he expected it, but I pull back.

“Goodnight House. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that I walk away, to my car. When I get in my car, I look in the mirror, seeing House standing there with a lovestruck grin, one a child would have over some school crush. But it was cute, he was cute. And this was just the beginning of an annoyingly predicated relationship with a Vicodin addicted, asshole, who I suspect has a soft spot for me.

[feelfreetopleasemexo]

You stay away from my brother cause I say so!

This fic contains reader x Bakugo and reader x kirishima (kirishima and reader as brother and sister style best friends)

It’s an enemies to lovers fic with multiple parts.

You had no idea that Katsuki Bakugo was jealous of how close you and Eijiro Kirishima were. He’d never openly admitted any form of fondness towards you, he barely even acted like you existed. To you, you were just another faceless extra in the background of his life, until he stumbled into you and Eijiro in a particularly…..interesting position.

You and Eijiro were best friends. Ever since you both started at UA, you quickly admired each others strengths and formed a mutually innocent bond that only grew the longer you attended UA. It was nice that you never had to worry about him confessing his undying love for you, never wandering if he’d ever feel the same way about you as you did him, it was a mutual family kind of love. You adored each other and spent many nights talking about your crushes, about your past traumas, about anything and everything inbetween. Youd joke he was your gay best friends and he’d joke you were his old lady wife who let him have as many flings as he wanted as long as he stilled mowed the loan. It was a quiet, comfortable brotherly love. One which youd soon come to realise was the bane of katsuki’s existence.

You were laid on his bed, your nose shoved into the book you were writing, as he lay at the end of it playing a video game. You were increasingly wiggling around, the fury on your face only growing as you couldnt quite write this particular scene of your story. You tried so many different ways, different angles, but not a single way seemed right. You were writing a spicy scene were your two characters were finally trying bdsm, but every single time you tried to write how their bodies moved, it seemed like they had an extra limb, one too many fingers, you couldnt for the life of you figure out how to position them properly, accurately. You threw your book down in frustration, not wanting to admit defeat, but struggling so desperately with your visualisation of them. Eijiro turned his head slightly back towards you, eyes still focusing on his game.

“Y’alright? Book not booking today?” His frustration with his game peering onto his face as his body twitched, his mouth hanging slightly open as he moved as if his movements in life somehow translated to helping him win in the game.

“Im never gonna be able to write this scene. It’s driving me insane! Why did I have to decide to write a sexy book….why couldnt it just be about rabbits that eat grass and shit all day long….at least that would be easy.” You huffed as you grabbed his pillow and screamed into it. He paused his game after hearing your scream and smiled back at you, looking down at how you flopped your arms and legs against his bed like a toddler having a full blown meltdown.

“You got this don’t worry! You always think you’re gonna give up, then a sudden lightbulb explodes above your head and you manage to finish it in record time!” He leant over and rubbed the top of your head, messing up your hair as you tilited you up towards him and stared at him. He wasn’t letting you have a strop like you wanted, but you knew he was right. You rolled your eyes and pulled the pillow back over your head as you sighed into it.

“What’s it all about anyway? Can I help at all? Yano, tell you guys stuff of whatever?” Suddenly, you sprang up, excitement filling your face as you couldnt believe youd never thought about this before.

“YES! YOU BEAUTIFUL SHARK BOY! I CAN USE YOU!” You swung your arms around him and squeezed him, as if he’d just helped you unlock the fucking da vinci code.

“Right, I need you to stand here….”you helped direct him into a strange position at the end of the bed,

“And then she’d go….here…” you bent over infront of him, his face turning the same shade as his hair, clearly uncomfortable with the sexual positions you were putting him in.

“Then she’d…no wait….gimme your hand….right, then she’d do this…” You muttered away to yourself as you folded, twisted, contorted yourself around him, trying your best to visual how you wanted to write the scene. He felt awkward every second you were pulling and pushing him, almost grinding up against him, making him grab your throat as you hooked a leg around his hips then bent down and were almost hand standing as he held you up,

“It’s for the plot! Now shut up and see if you can pick me up with one hand or something, i need to know if it makes sense that she’d be almost freefalling….” Then suddenly the door was kicked open.

Katsuki stood there, eyes wide, mouth open, staring at the two of you in this oddly strange position, it didnt look like it could work, but it definitely looked sexual. Kirishima was in his gym trousers with no t shirt on, as you had your pj shorts and a lowcut vest on. As soon as Eijiro’s eyes locked with katsukis his quirk activated and he dropped you straight on your head. You fell to the floor with a thud that shook the floor, and a massive yelp screamed from your throat. You cussed him out for dropping you, but he couldn’t care less as he advanced towards his best friend who seemed beyond mortified at the sight.

“HEY MAN HOWS IT GOING?! Shit im sorry…Everything good? Nothing weird here just…book stuff.”

He was never the type to be flustered, especially not when it came to you. Everyone knew you were best friends, like brother and sister, so why was he apologising to Katsuki….you had hoped youd just gotten a concussion or something, it didnt make sense for him to be acting like this, so you decided you must’ve been imagining it. You crawled back onto his bed and started scribbling away, trying your best to write down everything you could remember about how the two bodies would’ve moved together. You didn’t even realise that Katsuki had stormed off, or that Eijiro was now stood in his doorway, awkward and embarrassed at the scene his other best friend had just walked in on.

Eventually you lifted your head up and saw him still stood there, quirk still activated and tense.

“You okay dickhead? Quirk got your tongue?” He softened his body, turned to you and instead of his usual toothy smile, he looked pained, embarrassed and deflated. It wasnt a sight you had seen often.

“Woah woah….did BakuBROOO really chew you up and spit you out just because you were helping me out? I know it looked a bit weird but….”

He interrupted you, he never did this.

“Yeah he er….he was pissed. I think he’s gonna hate me now.”

His eyes were staring at the floor, he looked like a kid who’d just been told that the tooth fairy, Easter bunny and Santa might not totally, completely, be real. You sat up and made your way to the end of his bed, sitting and patting next to you for him to join you.

“Hey now cmon,why would he hate you? He’s seen you do weirder shit im sure…”

He didn’t move, didnt join you on the bed, didn’t even let his shoulders completely relax.

“Not with you.”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks. What did he mean with me?why did that matter? Was he jealous that Eijiro might’ve lost his virginity before he had? Had a girlfriend before him? It didn’t make any sense to you. It was clear that Eijiro knew something you didnt about Katsuki. His eyes never left the sock on the floor he was staring at, barely blinking, then he turned and ran out of his room,

“I have to find him.” And with that, he was gone. The door slammed behind him and all that was left was you, sitting on the edge of his bed, like your best friend had just been pulled completely away from you for another. The uncertainty weighed down on you like fat gum sitting on your shoulders. It was dark, heavy and unpleasant. You decided to go to your dorm and run a bath, you didnt want to bombard him with messages asking if he was okay, you knew he was trying to sort whatever was happening with Katsuki out, and the last thing they needed was you getting in the middle of it.

The next day you text him asking if he was okay, no reply. In class neither of them showed up, and when you went to knock on his door after classes had finished, there was no answer. You decided to open it slightly and shout to him that you were coming in, the room that was basically yours felt unfamiliar, like you weren’t allowed in there anymore. It was silent and empty. You tried ringing him a few times but only got his voicemail straight away. You decided to try knocking on katsukis door, hed know where he was, but the same scene laid out infront of you. No answer at the door, and no one inside. Your heart thumped against your throat, what had happened to them after leaving Eijiro’s room…

Suddenly denki walked past you staring into Katsukis room.

“Looking for your other boyfriend? Him and kirishima are with Recovery Girl. They were sparring and Bakugo kinda took it a bit too far…AGAIN.”

Your face dropped, had Katsuki really been that pissed off that Eijiro was holding you in such a weird way that it made him nearly kill him?! You ran past denki and straight to recovery girls infirmary, desperately praying that Eijiro was okay. Youd kill Katsuki if hed actually hurt him…you were met with both of them asleep, bandaged up and looking worn. Recovery girl had just finishing healing Katsuki in the other bed as you ran to Eijiro’s side, squeezing his hand and crying into it.

“He’ll be fine dear, just a little burnt, but ive fixed him up nice and good. Now let him rest for now.”

She ushered you out of the room as you stared at katsukis body with a fire inside of you that could rival his. How dare he hurt your brother, your best friend, the only man youd ever let see you in a bikini and not have to worry that he was going to ogle you or laugh. You wanted him dead. Better yet, you wanted to be the one who killed him.

You waited outside of their room, your head in your hands, nervously bouncing your leg for what seemed like hours. Suddenly, Katsuki walked out of the door, staring at you and huffing, trying to walk past you. You stood up, pushed him against the wall and raised your fire laced fist to his throat.

“I’ll fucking kill you. How DARE you hurt my brother like that. Does it make you feel big hurting him? Knowing you can kick and push him around and he’ll take it? Not even just because of his quirk…”

He pushed you off him and donned a similar flame in his hand, raising it up towards your face,

“Dont fucking touch me. I wasnt the one who threw the first punch for once. HE attacked ME!”

“Bull. Fucking. Shit. Eijiro wouldnt hurt a fly. He doesn’t believe it’s manly to hit first, you of all people should know that…” The flames now engulfed both your hands and most of your forearms as your quirk started to become uncontrolled. The hatred and anger inside you began to grow, was this why katsukis flames were so impressive….was he always this angry….no. He was in the wrong, hed hurt your bother.

“He fucking hit first. I just ended it.”

Katsuki put his flames out and looked down at you, his brows loosing their furrow slightly, as he then turned away and walked off. You screamed after him, calling him a pussy, screaming for him to fight you instead, but it all fell on deaf ears as the door swung behind him.

The next few days Eijiro acted as if nothing had happened between you two. He explained that he ran after Katsuki, told him not to worry about you two and that he wanted to apologise. Apparently Katsuki had blasted him away from him and then Eijiro had jumped on his back trying to calm him down, but that Katsuki had decided that was an invitation to fight so….yeah. He insisted that it was fine now between them, that after their fight and getting fixed up, that he went to katsukis room later that night and they both agreed they were both in the wrong, it sounded like a brilliant lie until that last part. There was no way Katsuki admitted he was in the wrong. You knew something was off, Eijiro never lied to you, but something was hidden inside him that he couldn’t tell you. You tried to let it go, but every time you say Katsuki something in your chest burned for revenge.

Today was the day for that revenge. It was training, Mr Aizawa had picked you both from the box to fight each other, everyone assumed that Katsuki would win (not in a way that was disrespectful towards you, it was just evident that his explosions were stronger than just your fire alone), you happily accepted the challenge and stood across from him. When the exercise began, you wasted no time and got in close to him, low to the ground then springing up quickly infront of him, avoiding his blasts then pushing his head to the ground. You blasted him furiously on the top of the head, you stood with your foot on his neck, and the other on the back of his elbow, forcing him unable to move, as you contained your blasts. You knew they were too much for close range, you knew you were overworking your quirk, you could the class audibly worried at your fury, your fire. They’d never seen you so heated, you were usually a quick, swift in and outer fighter, getting close then giving distance, and rallying that until you immobilising your opponent. You were used to using the lack of oxygen surrounding you opponent forcing them to surrender, but this time you were angry, you were furious, you were hell bent on making him suffer the way he made Eijiro. He managed to flick you off his back, blast you a few times then get distance. He looked visibly in pain, which was a rarity for Katsuki, he seemed panicked. You were fast. Too fast. He couldn’t make out where you were as youd created more smoke to cover yourself, an evasion tactic youd learnt last week. You came up behind him, pulled his legs from out under him and sat on his back with your full force, pinning him and containing to blast the back of his head. Mr Aizawa stopped you, and when you realised your quirk wasn’t working, you decided to start pummelling him instead. Tears ran down your face as you punched his head, his back, the side of his face. He overpowered you and managed to flip himself ontop of you, pinning you down. He started punching your face too, his anger becoming almost too much for him to handle. Youd bestest him nearly, and he hated losing. Mr Aizawas scarf wrapped around both you and flung you apart, as he scolded both of you.

“Y/N need I remind you this is a HERO course, not a course to test out your villainous streak. And Bakugo, I know it’s horrible to be bested but you don’t continue hurting the villain after you’ve caught them. You restrain them then call the authorities to carry out the correct procedures.” You were both spitting venom at each other, swearing to kill the other. He tightened his restraints on you both, wrapping more of his scarf around both of your mouths. “Thats ENOUGH. Both of you have detention for the rest of the week. TOGETHER. With me and Mic.”

He eventually let you go and you both scowled at each other, death threats visually being thrown. Eijiro came over to you, pushed into your shoulder and told you to calm down, as he then walked over to help calm Katsuki down. The girls in the class admitted that seeing you kick katsukis ass was good, but also admitted that it kind of scared them all.

The next weeks detentions were merciless, mic and aizawa had forced you both to write apology notes to each other. To do some bonding sessions to help strengthen the friendship between you two, then realising that it just made more fire erupt, sent you both triple the homework to complete. Youd never hated anyone before, you found it pointless to waste such energy on people, but you hated Katsuki Bakugo. You hated him with every fiber of your being.

[dontmakemechooseanli]

Chapter One- When the World Ends

Poly! Love and Deep Space LIs X MC!Reader

Words: 2.1k

Major Character Death, Grief and Canon Divergence (kinda you’ll see)

Okay after a pretty great reception on the imagine I spewed from my brain last night I wrote I have put together a better more edited version of the idea. Plan is for this to be more romantic than depressing but I love angst. All the comments are read and loved and your reblogs bring me immense joy and writing power so I appreciate you!!!

When the day started there had been no hint that the world would be ending. But when was there ever? The citizens of Linkon had lived through the apocalypse once and while that should prepare you- it hadn’t prepared them.

Jenna had given you a last minute assignment to check out a small metaflux disturbance in a residential park not far from the Bloomsdale district.

“It’s probably nothing but better safe than sorry. Xavier has left for the evening but I am sure he wouldn’t mind to come back if you want me to call him-”

“No worries, Captain. I’ll call if it gets to be too much- promise!”

You hadn’t even gotten the chance. It was a small metaflux disturbance. Nothing too difficult to handle and quickly dispatched without incident. You had even been excited to text your loves about how your weekend stretched out in front of you. That the last thing you had done at the end of a long week was settle an easy disturbance- safely and, more importantly in their opinions, without getting yourself hurt.

You could picture them so clearly: Xavier already camped on your couch- head lolling to one side, delivery app open and forgotten on his phone as the text pinged him. Rafayel spamming pictures and videos of the newest seagull choir demanding your attendance at the Concert of a Century tomorrow. Caleb’s reply- delayed but excited for you- “My ever capable Sunny Apple- protecting the peace! Proud of you Pips- don’t stay up too late! :)” Sylus always called immediately- the man always preferred hearing you but you knew it was also his way of making sure you made it home safe. You could practically see the subtle eye roll Zayne would give you over video call later that evening- “You have to stop rushing into these things, what if something happened?”

But you never made it home that night.

The last thing you felt was the strong buzz of energy and a sharp pain in your chest. You clutched your chest and choked on your air- you couldn’t breathe. You panicked.

“Distress Activated Emergency Protocol Engaged. Abnormal Vitals Detected. Emergency Services Deployed. Please Wa-”

The world went dark.

Zayne had been on his feet for 9 hours when his pager began to beep the code blue signals.

Friday’s were a heavy surgery day for the cardiac surgeon- the last day of scheduled surgeries and preparing mentally for a weekend of emergencies. The residents were almost always exhausted and antsy by this point in the week so Dr. Zayne had to be in perfect form to ensure all his patients were receiving the best care possible.

He was finishing his floor rounds with a small bounce in his step. Dr. Greyson was on call Sunday meaning that he was looking at a glorious day off with you. It would be the first in a while that you both had an entirely free day together and in normal fashion it was booked with restaurant visits and a trip to a newly opened arcade to “scope out the competition” (aka you needed to get a lay of the land to figure out who you would need to beat to ensure you had the high scores on the fps stalls).

He was strolling into his office- phone already in his hand to text you about your day when the beeping began.

Code Blue: Y/N L/N

Li Room SR 2A

He didn’t even think he just moved.

If you asked him what the next fifteen minutes of his life had entailed he would have no answer for you. He had, run (probably- he was panting by the time he) scrubbed in (probably- his hands were gloved and taped, his hair capped and his gown on when he) held your heart in his hand.

He had never done this before.

No, he had.

He had.

He had never done this successfully.

He was only a man. A man with a needle and thread and tears in his eyes. Greyson was home and there was no time for ethical considerations that would come later. Would come after.

8:52 PM

He doesn’t know when he ended up on the floor. His breaths coming raggedly through his mask, his hands shaking tugging it off, his gown slipping and his evol slowly spiraling out of his control.

The air frigid as Yvonne leans her hand down to attempt to help him up.

He doesn’t even see her.

He sees you. Small, missing teeth- words slurring as you cry. Your popsicle had melted. He had never felt the need to help another like he did at that moment. His small hands had grabbed yours and with a single touch the blue sweet treat had refrozen.

You had looked at him like he saved the world- like he was a hero.

He hears you- slightly bigger now, all your teeth grown in, swinging gently on the swing explaining to him why your family was overbearing.

“It’s a heart thing. It’s weird? When the world ended my heart should’ve stopped. It didn’t though. Takes more than that to stop me.”

“Isn’t it scary?”

“Not really. I mean it makes me cooler I think. At least that’s what Caleb says.”

You- grown and beautiful and smiling- meeting him again. Demanding his time, his attention, his care. He feels himself falling for you.

Over and over and over again.

“Dr. Zayne. You need to call it. We’ve passed the standard time of care. I can call-”

Beep…… beep….beep…beep

Everyone in the room stilled. Then in a blink of an eye Zayne was up.

When the time for questions to be answered this would be the only thing everyone could agree on. Your heart had stopped. Your brain function has ceased. You had gone a full 30 minutes without breathing on your own when it happened.

Your eyes flew open. A blinding light, a sterile room, and a teary face loomed over you.

You smiled, eyes widening feeling sad for this sad man. You raised your hand which he quickly grabbed.

“Don’t cry. It’ll be okay.”

“Y/N- do you know where you are? Do you know what happened?”

You hummed in response. “Hm? No. I don’t know. What is going on Mister? Don't be sad.”

The man’s eyes widened and you heard the others bustling around and the man was taken from your side. A kind eyed woman slipped a mask over your face-

“It’s okay Honey. Everything is okay. Now count with me. One… Two… Three”

The consult room looked like the punch line of a terrible joke.

Xavier- usually nearly glowing- had his shirt on backwards and no shoes on. He had simply appeared outside the hospital moments after the initial alarms on his Hunters Watch began. His presence seemed to darken the already dim room.

Rafayel was pacing and had been a flurry of movement since the sharp pain in his chest that was accompanied by a slight glowing red that still peeked out from under his unbutton shirt. Normally he was content to sit and stew (you had always called it pouting but he was contemplating thank you very much) the nervous energy that flowed through him was only going to be extinguished one of two ways and the only socially acceptable version was to allow the man to pace the perimeter of the room.

Sylus was a barely contained ball of rage- all the money and influence in the world and no one would tell him what was happening. The doctor will be in there soon. The nurse had not taken it well when he had tried to explain that half of his soul was ripped out and he would make it everyone’s problem very soon if someone didn’t fucking answer him.

Caleb was the last one to arrive at the hospital. His sleek black Colonel uniform and steady footsteps passing through the doorway in a manner that seemed to suck the air from the room. His eyes wide and frantic, the vein directly under his purple irises jumping in time with his frenetic pulse.

The room was silent- even Rafayel’s ceaseless pacing was halted momentarily. The men were all aware of each other. All aware of how entangled each other were with each other through you. When imagining how they would inevitably meet most had pictured a dinner table or a brawl not an Akso Hospital Patient Consult room.

Caleb, always the force to be reckoned with, broke the silence first.

“Where is she- I swear I’ll-”

The door abruptly opens, knocking directly into the Colonel’s outstretched hand. Zayne- looking uncharacteristically shaken and haunted- peers at the strange group. Faces he had seen through Moments posts, had heard stories of, had always known he would meet (or see again in the case of his once dead childhood friend) all stared at him in various stages of grief, duress and anger.

“Zayne.”

“She’s alive.”

There is an exhale.

Xavier relaxes slightly into the pleather chair he is sat in- rustling his legs which had become nearly molded to the fabric as he had sat as still as a statue for what felt like centuries. The chaotic energy that buzzed around Sylus dissipates slightly. Air returns to the room on Caleb’s exhale. Rafayel’s shoulders release and his pacing shifts into an unsteady sway back and forth like he may pass out.

“Great.” Sylus purrs, standing to his full height, his practiced facade snapping securely into place, taking a steady step towards the door. “Where is sh-”

“She doesn’t remember who she is. She doesn’t know where she is. She died. And then she- well- she came back. We don’t understand.”

Zayne feels detached. He feels a million miles away. He was trying to stay strong- to find a logical explanation for everything. But deep down he felt his entire reason for being crumbling. He had spent his whole life working so he could save you (from melting popsicles, from himself and his unstable evol, from your own heart) and he failed. He had worked for over a decade so he could hold your heart safely in his hands. And he failed. The only test that ever truly matter and he failed.

Xavier has lost her again. He had waited over 200 years to see her again. He was able to love her openly and freely only for her to be stripped from him again. Was the cosmic justice for leaving? Was this the timeline righting itself? How many times can his tired soul bear the brunt of watching you fall in love with him again? How many more times can he take it?

Sylus felt the wound in his chest reopen. He had not ever allowed himself to think of the pain you must have suffered after killing him. After he had changed your fate- he had taken the choice from you because it was not one he could make himself. Better to take himself from the equation altogether- to rewrite fate himself. He had only just gotten you back- his little sorceress with fire in her veins and spitfire on her tongue- and now he would start over again? Would you be able to forgive him again? Would you be disgusted by him again?

Caleb bends at the waist and falls to his knees, clutching his stomach. He is going to be sick. He feels the bile tickle at his throat as he fights his own mind, as he wrestles for control of his emotions. He has to be strong- but he doesn’t know if he can be strong for the both of you anymore. Can he hold on with his fractured and broken mind to the memories of you happy and free and in love? If he forgets will there be anyone who remembers left? He has done this before but he has forgotten what this feels like- this nauseous grief that nearly resets him. But he can't because you need him. Don’t you? You need him right?

Everyone is so solidly grief stricken for a moment they don’t pay attention to Rafayel’s easy smile and his lack-a-daisical saunter out of the room, passing a kneeling Caleb and a wheezing Zayne. They were only brought into focus when they hear a soft scoff and quiet words:

“Amateurs. What, like it’s your first time? Expected better from the others her heart had chosen but looks like I’ll take the lead on this one. Thanks guys.”

He is out of the room and down the hallway before anyone can stop him; humming softly to himself.

“Hi, cutie. It’s gonna rain tonight better grab another blanket for ya.”

A/N: wrote this in 2 long sessions so the next part will hopefully be up soon as I sort of already know what the plan is for that.

If you don’t like lead X lead or polycule situations heads up that is where this is leading sooooooo

In this house we know all of their hearts are big enough for all this love

[somaliapearls]

heat lightning is soooooo good!!!!!! I love it!!!!! The way you write Tyler is amazing!!!!!!!! I would love to read a part 2 if you feel like writing it xxx

humidity

part one

🌪️ tyler owens x fem!reader

genre: fluff, angst-lite, tension, second chance, post-confession chaos, new relationship on thin ice (literally and figuratively)

wc: 2k

setting: A post-storm Oklahoma night, a surprise storm, and a chase they shouldn’t be on, together in the eye of it all.

warnings: language, dangerous weather scenarios, emotionally vulnerable moments, kissing in unsafe places, and general storm-chasing recklessness.

warnings: Some language, vulnerability, emotional intimacy, kissing, references to grief & loneliness, and suggestive (but not explicit) moments.

a/n: tysmmm, here you go my love !!!

twisters masterlist

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, wrapped in Tyler Owens like a second skin.

At some point, the kiss had ended, but his hands hadn’t moved. One still cradled your waist, the other brushed lazy circles across your spine like he didn’t quite know how to stop touching you. And you? You didn’t want him to. You leaned into him like he was shelter, like maybe he could block the next storm if he held you tight enough.

“Okay,” he said eventually, voice rough with the heat and everything that had just happened. “I think my legs are officially giving out.”

You laughed, light and real, and he pulled back just enough to see your face. “That bad, huh?”

“That good,” he corrected, giving you a look that left nothing unsaid. “But we should probably… I don’t know. Move.”

“Move?” you echoed, blinking like you’d forgotten how.

He looked around the garage—the open bay doors, the echoing quiet, the rotating fan still whirring like it was trying its best. “Yeah. Somewhere that isn’t forty degrees past bearable.”

You tilted your head. “I know a place.”

Tyler followed you like it was instinct. Out of the garage, into the muggy night. The cicadas had gone quiet for now, the wind low and strange, the kind of breeze that felt like something was holding its breath.

You led him past the barns, past the empty cornfields and the old fence that hadn’t seen fresh paint in years. The ladder to the roof of the old storm-watching shed creaked under your weight, but it held. It always did.

“Seriously?” Tyler said as he climbed up behind you. “This where you come to brood when you’re not throwing wrenches in the garage?”

You tossed him a smirk. “Only when I want to feel like the main character in a tragic indie film.”

The roof was flat, warm beneath your legs as you sat cross-legged, blanket spread out beneath you. He joined you a second later, arms resting on his knees, eyes fixed on the horizon.

Heat lightning still flickered, farther now, soft pulses lighting up the edge of the sky like Morse code.

“You know,” he said after a minute, “I used to think about this exact moment.”

You turned to look at him, the shadows of the night softening his face.

“This?” you asked.

“Not the roof,” he said, smiling faintly. “But us. The quiet after it all. What it would feel like to stop pretending.”

You swallowed, the air thick in your throat. “And?”

He looked over at you, eyes dark and unreadable. “Feels better than I imagined. Also sweatier.”

You laughed, bumping your shoulder into his. “Oklahoma’ll do that to you.”

He didn’t laugh—but his smile lingered. Then he reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered at your jaw, gentle, unsure.

“I should’ve said something sooner,” he admitted. “I kept thinking… we were better off not risking it.”

You nodded. “I thought the same. But it turns out not kissing you hurt worse than the idea of losing you.”

Tyler’s gaze dropped, and something in him softened—cracked open like the sky before a storm.

“I was scared you’d see the worst parts of me,” he said, voice low. “The reckless, restless, stubborn mess who doesn’t know how to stay still.”

“I’ve seen the worst parts of you,” you said, no hesitation. “And I still came up here with you.”

Silence.

Then-

“Do you miss her?” you asked suddenly, quietly. “Kate?”

He blinked, caught off guard. But he didn’t shy away. “Yeah,” he said. “A lot. She was like family. And I know she’d probably kick my ass for taking this long.”

He looked at you again, eyes glassy with something that wasn’t quite sadness. “You were hers too, you know.”

Your throat tightened. “I know.”

“I think losing her made me scared to hold on to anything else. Like if I didn’t love anyone too deeply, nothing else could hurt that bad.”

You didn’t say anything. You just reached out, hand sliding into his, fingers tangling together in the dark.

“But you?” he said after a moment. “You were never half anything. You never let me be.”

You smiled faintly. “You always were the whole damn sky to me, Tyler. I just… didn’t know how to tell you without sounding like a fool.”

“Good,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “Means we were both fools.”

You leaned into him, head on his shoulder, blanket wrapped loosely around the two of you now. His arm draped over your back, grounding you. He smelled like sweat, engine oil, and the ghost of wild wind—and somehow, it was the most comforting thing in the world.

“I’m not good at slow,” he said suddenly. “But I want to try. If you’ll let me.”

You tilted your face up, kissed his jaw. “You’ve got me. However long it takes.”

He looked down at you like you were a miracle. “You sure?”

“Ty,” you said, grinning. “I kissed you in a 102-degree garage. I think I’m past the point of playing it safe.”

He laughed, really laughed this time. It was a rough, real sound that made your chest ache in the best way.

The stars began to blink through the haze, and the air cooled just a little as the next front teased the edge of the night.

You lay back on the roof, dragging him down with you. He went willingly, head next to yours, his fingers still tangled with yours.

“I think the storm’ll hit by morning,” you murmured.

Tyler turned his head to look at you. “Then we’ve got a few hours to waste.”

You didn’t sleep that night.

But you rested.

And for the first time in years, so did he.

-

The sky cracked open just after dawn.

You woke to the sound of wind shifting—wrong somehow. No birds, no cicadas. Just that eerie kind of silence that came when the world ducked for cover. Tyler was already sitting up beside you, shirt wrinkled, hair wild, eyes fixed on the horizon.

“Something’s brewing,” he muttered.

You pushed yourself upright, heart still fuzzy from sleep, and last night. “You check the radar?”

He nodded, jaw tight. “Wasn’t supposed to flare up until tonight. But a dryline popped early.”

“Classic Oklahoma,” you said, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. “Romance one minute, chaos the next.”

He looked over, a faint smirk ghosting his lips. “You saying last night was romantic?”

You gave him a look. “You kissed me like you invented it, Owens. Don’t start playing dumb now.”

He didn’t reply. Just leaned in, pressed a quick kiss to your temple like it might keep him steady. You both knew what was coming: adrenaline, sirens, wind speeds that didn’t make sense.

By the time you’d made it down the ladder and back to the house, the sky had gone a sickly yellow.

Wrangler crew group chat was already lit up, Tyler’s phone buzzing with texts.

Boone: “Cell forming near Garfield County. Building FAST.” Lily: “New updraft looks tornadic. You on it?” Javi: “Don’t go without backup. I swear to God, Owens-”

He dropped the phone on the table. “We shouldn’t chase it.”

You blinked. “We never say that.”

Tyler ran a hand down his face, still barefoot, still uncertain. “That was before I kissed you on a damn roof.”

“Oh,” you said. “So now you’re soft.”

“Soft?” he repeated, incredulous.

You stepped closer, pressed a hand to his chest. “Yeah. Emotionally compromised. Kissed-and-caring Tyler. It’s cute.”

He caught your wrist. “You’re making it really hard to not drag you into that truck again.”

“I dare you,” you whispered, eyes sparking.

He grinned, then groaned, letting your hand go. “You’re insane.”

“You like that about me.”

He didn’t argue.

Thirty minutes later, you were in the passenger seat of his mud-streaked red truck, chasing a cell that wasn’t waiting for permission.

The radio squawked warnings in a static-laced voice. Winds gusted hard enough to rattle the windows. The funnel hadn’t dropped yet, but the sky was rotating, pulsing with energy, like something alive.

“You know Javi's gonna skin us alive,” you said as you watched the sky stretch into shades of bruised purple.

Tyler adjusted the rearview. “We’re not going far. Just tracking it. Staying safe.”

You snorted. “We never stay safe.”

His eyes flicked over to you. “That’s the problem.”

You were quiet for a beat, then: “You really mean to pull away now? After everything?”

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“No,” he admitted. “I just don’t want the first real thing we have to end in a goddamn ditch.”

“Then stop acting like we only work in hypotheticals.” You leaned forward, watching the trees bend in the distance. “This is real. You, me, this storm. It’s all happening whether we’re ready or not.”

Tyler didn’t answer, but he didn’t turn around either.

And when the sky cracked in two, he didn’t flinch.

You found a ridge, high, exposed, stupid. But the view was perfect.

The storm loomed miles off but building fast, too fast. A green wall cloud twisted in the distance, the beginnings of a funnel just kissing the base.

“Shit,” Tyler muttered, grabbing the camcorder from the back. “That’s trying.”

You climbed onto the hood with him, wind whipping your hair sideways.

He filmed for a second, then lowered the camera. “You scared?”

You considered lying. But you didn’t.

“Yeah,” you said. “But not of this.”

He looked over. “Of what, then?”

“Of losing this before it starts,” you said, not looking at him. “Of you deciding I’m too much. That we’re better in theory.”

Tyler stared at you like you’d just torn the sky open.

Then he set the camera down.

And kissed you.

Not the way he had last night. This was sharper, faster—like the wind had gotten into his blood. Like he was holding on because everything around you was trying to break apart.

You kissed him back with both hands in his hair, gripping like you might fly away otherwise.

And then, just as his hand cupped your jaw, just as the tornado began to form in full on the horizon-

A bolt of lightning cracked, too close. Thunder chased it like a freight train.

You both jolted, breathless, laughing even though it wasn’t funny.

“Time to move,” Tyler said.

You scrambled off the hood, boots hitting the dirt. He grabbed your hand- tight, warm, grounding.

You looked back once.

The funnel touched down in the distance, swirling like it had teeth.

“Still think we’re playing it safe?” you yelled over the rising wind.

Tyler didn’t even look away from the road. “Nope. But at least this time, I’ve got someone to hold on to.”

You didn’t answer.

You didn’t need to.

Later, after the storm had passed and the warnings cleared, after the adrenaline bled out and you both realized you were starving, exhausted, and still stupidly in love, he pulled over beneath a tree heavy with post-rain steam.

You ate gas station snacks on the tailgate. Shared a melted soda. Watched the clouds drift like tired giants.

He bumped your shoulder.

“You still in?”

You turned to him, blinking. “In?”

“For this. Me. You. Whatever this becomes.”

You licked salt off your thumb and smiled slow. “I was in before the first kiss. I’m all the way in now.”

He leaned forward, kissed you again, softer this time.

When he pulled back, he whispered, “Then let’s chase it. All of it. The storms, the quiet, the future.”

You rested your forehead against his.

“Let’s.”

🌪️ outside, the world kept spinning—but you weren’t running from the storm anymore. you were running with it. and maybe, finally, that meant you were free.

[shuenkio]

Juno | Lhs.

Paring: Heeseung X M!reader | Genre: Fluff.

Synopsis: Thought he'd be disgusted by your love letter however who knows what he actually feels toward you? When your friend accidentally puts that for fun note in your gift that you're about to give him?

Cw: Nothing.

Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st lang.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A@N: Christmas's laterally 3 more months away but who cares, I wanna make a change 💪 plus Juno are on repeating, so why not make an inspiration fic about it?

The Earth's spinning, people are living their lives in their own way, especially with their loved ones. You wonder, to the point of this age, should you just grow old as an old bachelor or find someone? Well, looking at yourself in the mirror already answers all your questions; you find yourself didn't match your satisfaction.

Insecure about your look wasn't enough; another thing is you've been hopeless romantic all of your life. Deep down, you wanted to have someone stay by your side, holding your hand while looking at the sky when it's sunset, cuddle when it's rain, compliment all the sweet things you've ever needed every day, and last but not least, you wanted someone to love you.

It's a silly daydreaming; however, every single day you can't go a day without thinking about anyone randomly popping out, riding their white horse, kneeling in front of you, and asking you, Would you be their partner? That's kind of crazy. Ever since then, brushed it all off as if it's nothing.

Continue to work hard for your bill in this messy industry. Surprisingly, God always has his own plan; he won't let you die alone... Right? Apparently, there's someone just moving in next to your apartment, and it's a man. Oh my. No, you can't be thrill just because he's a man; M/N, behave yourself.

That's how thirsty you are; later on, you thought you're the problem and started to behave yourself to be less attracted to a stranger, especially a man. On one holiday night, while back from work as you were unlocking your door, it was a coincidence when the new guy came out at the same time. Both of you never get the chance to greet each other because you're such workaholics. He greets you with a warm smile on his face, offering a handshake, as you hesitated to but still did.

He then introduces himself as 'Heeseung' called 'Evan' for short. He also said he never gets the opportunity to meet someone, mostly who are his neighbors since they are always out of the house just like you. For now, Evan wanted to invite you for a coffee. Oh. Spare a glance at his towering figure up and down; you realize he's positive; no bad energy from him; yes, you happily agree. A day turns into a week, a week turns into a month.

Trying all your hardest not to fall in love with Evan, who likes to do all those weird gestures that make your stomach fill with butterflies every damn time. Maybe you lack affection, sort of. He looks cool, is an ACE in everything, at least he can cook ramen, is a green flag in your perspective, is gentle and respectful of the boundaries, but one thing that made you stop midway was he can't be gay.

Evan is probably a straight guy that you mistake with his clingy behavior. Sigh, a lesson of life learned as a homosexual person. It's not right to force him to like you back, isn't it? Not even right to confess your true heart when he's so straight code, or he's not? Or is it worth pouring away all the heavy weight in your chest? The TV play in the living room, an announcement that today is going to be snow on this special day too, a Christmas day.

Brainstorming to seek out his favorite thing as you pop out an idea by gifting him a logo set; he loves it too much you couldn't understand why. As you were preparing the gift with all your friends together in a room before going out to celebrate in the city, you suddenly wanted to write a confession note for fun—write everything that had been living in your heart for a long time that has been hurting—a poem, to be honest, well, a little freaky, because you know you'd throw them away anyway.

"You make me want to make me fall in love."

"Wanted you to adore me back, hold me like you always did, and always joke, telling me I'm your only friend."

"Sorry, I like you, but I can't help it."  "Liking you was the best experience in my life, and I hope for nothing but still us to be friends."

Out of the blue, coincidentally, once you finish the note, your friend happens to pull you for a group photo. While you were busy posing, one of your other friends had nothing to do, so they went to wrap all the gifts of all of them. Usually, at every Christmas festival, they are in charge of who does the wrapping. The group united is over; after they're all stepping foot in the city, they've all vanished. Holding your gift like a lost child, looking at the crowd of people who's busy with their own business.

The snow keeps falling down from the blurry sky nonstop, so cold yet it fits the vibe you were going for. Snuggle your hands inside of your pocket; you leave the scenes as you drag your feet to somewhere quiet, your favorite park that used to be lively but now it's a field of snow. Taking a hot breath under the cold temperature, a shadow cast towering upon you, looking up to see, it was actually your greatest neighbors, Evan.

"What are you doing here, Fox?"

"Me? Oh, just chilling; I don't like crowds anyway." response, the tip of your nose turns pink, which makes Evan find it adorable.

"Why? It's Christmas; you should go enjoy yourself!" Taking about Christmas alarms your mind; you take out the wrapped gift and hand it to him. He caught off guard to the gift you have for him. Everyone would give him gifts during this festival; never make him flinch but you, a different story.

"Ugh, don't get the wrong idea; you're my neighbors after all; neighbors gift neighbors, isn't that normal? Take it, unbox it," take a hold of his palm, and give him the gift while waiting patiently for his expression. Hearing you say those, he did as told. Unveil all the tie, tearing all of the paper. Evan sees a cartoon Lego set inside with a small scratchy note that is about to be trash. The corner of Evan's lip, tight into a cocky smile as he takes out the small note, and hands up to the light street nearby. Maybe he didn't laugh at the Lego set but something else.

Seeing a note that you did not put in there and a confession note too, your eye wide open. The heart inside of your chest is pounding and racing far from the beat. You were nervous and panicking. How can it flow in there? Oh, wait, don't tell your friend to put it in there; naur, screw you. Quickly get up from your seat. I wanted to grab that note away; however, who are you kidding, he was 180 cm while you? A tiny little person.

"Evan, give that back; it's not; it's not the right note. My friend mistakenly put them there. DON'T READ IT." jumping up and down, up and down to snatch the piece of paper away, which is no use. All you got was to exhaust yourself.

"Oh, let me see, hmm, mistaken? But I see your name under here from me, M-N. How is that a mistake?" Realizing Evan already read it, you stop there frozen; the outcome would be something you are not going to like. Same goes for Evan too. You thought he'd be all serious and disgusted by your love note yet replaced by giggles. Um what?

"You, M/N, why have you not told me sooner?"

"Because... You look straight, i guess. Sorry to assume, but you did look like it."

"Oh, come on, why should I be straight when you're alive?"

"I beg pardon??"

"The word 'I like you' is out trending, so I'd say I. Adore. You, my M/N. My gift for you is

'i love you too'

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️ Crd to all the room rightful owner: [divider Alanitalenia]

🗣️ ps: I was dead ass sick writing this, but still cooked anyway 🫂.

[h8ani]

Tooru Oikawa x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k (I tried)

Warnings: MDNI - semi public sex, health code violations happen, unprotected sex, quickie, oikawa has overbearing parents. you're caught, fem!reader

A/N: Here is my fic for the Help Wanted collab with @interstellar-inn It was fun writing this thank you so much for letting me join! Also a big thank you to those who proof read this for me!

Taglist: @bloodsiren @suyacho @kodzukein

Join my taglist! → here (if you've changed your username please let me know!)

The cloudless summer sky shined down bright on you as you hurried to get to work. The heat wave brought long days and even shorter nights, construction paused and everyone stayed indoors with their a/c on full blast. Unlucky for you, the small ice cream shop you worked at had no air conditioning as of three days ago and your shift just happened to be on one of the hottest days of the week. 

You shouldn’t complain, you’re grateful that you were even able to get a job just for the summer while you were back home and on break from school, plus the owners were this cute couple who welcomed you with open arms and were always so friendly towards you. You shouldn’t complain but, damn this heat. 

You were able to work five days out of the week which was also very generous given that you were part time, and it didn’t hurt that on most of the days that you worked the owner's son would stop by to help out too. Tooru Oikawa, pride and joy of his parents and one hundred percent, without a doubt, off limits. 

The second you met him you figured out pretty quickly just how overbearing his parents were about him, instantly boasting about how great he is. Apparently, he’s some hot shot volleyball player for his own college, you were able to surmise that he’s captain from the team and that his parents absolutely hate all the little fangirls he always has all over him, his mom quickly mentioning that everytime she sees a photo of him with girls falling off his arms she always comments a thumbs down emoji which you couldn’t help but laugh at the thought. 

You couldn’t overlook the quick jabs about his ex either, his mom being very vocal about how she was never good enough for their “beautiful baby boy” and his father just huffing out an unamused sigh when Oikawa somewhat defends her. You mentally noted everything, making sure to stay in their good graces while you worked alongside him. You made sure not to ask for help from him too much or kept yourself busy so you were never stagnant and just standing around him where his parents could give a questioning look or comment. As subtle as you thought you were being Oikawa saw right through it, easily catching on to how careful you were being. He thought you were cute, definitely not like the girls at his school who just threw themselves at him whenever they had the chance. It was refreshing, and during this heat he needed something to cool down and you were now his drink of choice. 

The ding of the door chimed in your ears as you walked in, the thick air from inside the store somehow feeling warmer than outside. You huffed out a sigh while walking around to the back making sure to say hello to both of the owners before stopping in your tracks, in the small section of the back of the store was a table and a few chairs meant to be an area for employee’s to take their breaks and where bags and belongings can go with a few hooks spaced out on the wall. Your eyes met with his, a small smirk taking place on his face as he watched you frozen. Your expression was cute, eyes as big as a doe’s would be while standing rigid in the doorway. “Don’t look so surprised, you’ll make me feel bad for being here,” he chuckles while leaning back in the chair, his foot popping up on his knee as he gets more comfortable. 

“You weren’t scheduled for today.” You quickly state, moving to place your bag on one of the hooks and sliding your phone out of your back pocket to place it on the charger. You turn back to find Oikawa swiveling in his chair to face you, him not even trying to hide the fact that he’s checking you out. He looked at you from head to toe, how short the shorts you wore were and the way they hugged your ass, your shirt showing just enough cleavage to know his mother would pop a blood vessel if she saw it and the slight sheen of sweat he can see due to the a/c crapping out a few days ago. The thoughts of what you’d look like panting for him crossed his mind and made his pants tighter, a small clear of your throat brought him back almost as if you already knew what he was thinking. A shameless smile crossed his lips as he stood up and passed by you without saying a word. 

~~

Thirty minutes in and you already wanted to shrivel up and die, you were using an empty envelope to fan yourself off but even then that didn’t seem to work because all you were doing was pushing more hot air into your face. At this point you were ready to jump into the ice cream display, who cares if you’d be sticky at least you’ll be cold and sticky. 

Glancing over to the empty parking lot you decide to sneak off towards the back while making sure to grab the containers for the toppings, if you’re going to sneak off might as well do a little bit of work while you’re at it. A giant walk-in freezer is your only saving grace as you tug on the heavy handle, making sure to keep it cracked as to not lock you in because as much as you like the cold you don’t want to be one with the ice cream. 

The gust of cold air as you walk-in feels as if you died and went to heaven, immediately your hands reached the hem of your shirt to fan as much air as you could, allowing your body to feel the sweet chill of the air. The subtle hum of the freezer drowning out any outside noise while you close your eyes, not noticing that the cooler door opened more allowing Oikawa to slip in while seemingly shutting it, the click of the door locking drowned out with the whir of the cooler. 

He watches you for a moment, seeing the subtle sway of your body as your shirt rises higher up on your stomach. He smiles at you, he can’t deny that the minute he met you that he thought you were attractive, you were sweet to his parents and always did more than what was asked let alone did more than what you were actually being paid for. You were smart, already catching onto how his parents were which most wouldn’t, he knew this right away because he could barely keep a conversation with you let alone get you in the same place as him, it was charming how you cared about what his parents thought of you. That’s probably going to change after he’s done with you. 

Stepping closer, closing the distance between you two, his arm snakes around your waist causing an audible gasp to escape you before getting cut off by his hand covering your mouth. Your body went rigid as you felt his breath hit your ear while a quiet ‘shh’ leaves his own lips. 

Your heart was thumping against your chest with your eyes opened wide enough that you resembled a deer caught in headlights, almost immediately your hands reach up to his own covering your mouth. You could hear the subtle click of his tongue in disapprovement as you tried tugging at his hand. 

You’ve tried keeping your distance as best as you could and ignoring just how flirtatious Oikawa has been towards you but even then this budding little crush on him couldn’t be stopped. Yes, he was attractive and yes, he might be this college athlete that you may or may not have instagram stalked on one or two occasions since working here and maybe the fact that he’s been off limits from the start made him even more enticing than he should have been but you will not fall victim to a pretty boy getting you alone.

Finally, you tug his hand down while taking in a deep breath. “Your parents-”

“Aren’t here, but they will be back.” He says as he grabs ahold of your shoulders and spins you around, your back hits the wall of the cooler, a chill running through you immediately. You catch sight of him, eyes locking to him but his line of sight went straight to your cleavage, then to your exposed stomach all the way down until they came back to your eyes. A smug smirk was planted on his face as he leaned in, hands planting themselves right by your head caging you in. “It’s your call, princess.” 

The sprouting thought of being fired the moment his parents find out hit your mind causing you to waver in answering. You needed this summer job, hell; you even liked it even if you wish you weren’t being baked alive, but still you faltered and it was obvious to you both about what was running through your mind. You wanted to, fuck, did you want to but you knew better-

“The more you contemplate this the less time we have, so push me away if you don’t want this but I need to kiss you right now.” 

Before you could even comprehend what he was saying one of his hands wrapped around the back of your neck and pulled you to him crashing his lips to yours. He was quick to press you against the wall but was surprisingly slow with the kiss, he was giving you time to push back, say no if you wanted to but it never came. After a moment he pulls away, hand still caressing the back of your nape as he looks down at you, happy to see your eyes clouded with need.

“We have to be quick.” You breathe out, a determination now setting in your eyes. He couldn’t stop the smile that was spreading once he heard you. His lips were back on yours, angling your head so he could deepen the kiss further. You open your mouth letting his tongue mold against yours as he easily pops the buttons of your shorts off, your own fingers quickly tugging his shorts down. Grabbing the underside of your thighs he lifts you up, pressing you in between him and the frozen wall of the cooler. Goosebumps erupted over your skin, the subtle cloudy air you two exhaled was the only indicator of just how cold it really was inside. 

Soon enough your panties were pulled to the side and his warm, hard cock was sliding past your entrance. The burn of the stretch was noticeable, he was big; that much you could tell. “Fuck…” You bit out, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck. 

“Sorry Princess, don’t have much time for foreplay this time.”

“This time?” Your eyebrows raised as you finally caught a glimpse at him. Suddenly the cooler seemed warmer than it was as you looked at him, cock pushed into the hilt, and that same cocky ass smirk plastered on his face. 

“I plan to have you plenty more times that aren’t breaking any health code violations.” He rocks his hips into you, a moan escapes your lips. The angle he had you in made everything feel so much deeper, every thrust he gave you made your body feel on fire, it didn’t matter how cold everything around you was. 

His lips found their way up your neck, making sure to leave wet, open mouthed kisses along the base of your throat until he found the spot behind your ear that made you visibly shiver in his arms. A quiet whine left your lips as you spoke his name, pussy clenched with every rough thrust he was giving you. 

To say he’s been waiting all Summer to get the chance to be inside you was an understatement, the moment he met you he knew he wanted to have his way with you. To have his way with you inside his parents freezer? That wasn’t his plan but he wasn’t one to be picky. 

You cursed after one particularly rough thrust of his, nails digging into his shoulders as you took every roll of his hips. He was keen on making this quick, your back soon being pulled away from the wall and quickly found yourself being laid on top of multiple boxes of what you can expect was an assortment of toppings. If an inspector came in this place would surely be shut down. 

His pace quickened as his thumb easily found your clit, rubbing in quick circular motions to help you reach your end. He was eager to cum and so were you, a flurry of curse words left your lips as you felt the knot in your stomach tightening more and more. 

“Cum for me.” He grunted, voice hoarse as he watched you under him. Oh how he wished he could’ve taken his time with you, he wanted to undress you properly, make sure you were shaking before he even put the tip in. He wanted to make you feel better than you already did. 

Pulling him closer, you bury your head in the crook of his neck muffling the sounds you were making, your walls clenched around him, your climax dragging out of you as he continued the fuck into you. A loud groan tumbled out of him, his thrusts became sloppy as he released inside of you, spilling his seed until it was spilling out. 

You both are breathing heavy, the warm breath that's being exhaled mixing with the chill of the cooler brings a new sensation around you. You don’t trust yourself to stand, the orgasm he pulled from you in such a short time sent your mind to another world that you almost missed the distinct ring of the front door being opened.

Almost.

“Just customers, too early for my parents to be back.” Oikawa states while planting a comforting kiss on your cheek. You relax back into the now dented boxes from underneath you, he leaned down; now letting his forehead rest against yours as you breathed each other in. You both bask in the afterglow of the orgasms you had until the bright light from outside is shining through, the loud screech of the cooler’s door opening and an overly dramatic gasp and shout of Oikawa’s fathers name is being shouted as you look over. 

Yeah, you can kiss this job goodbye.

network: @interstellar-inn

[rosinaparker]

Skz 9th member

Genre: fluff, crack

pairing: platonic!skz x f!reader

warnings: cursing, flirty comments/touches

A/N: Heyy guys...let's ignore the fact that we have been gone for a whole month😃 inspiration hasn’t been flowing at all for us☹️ -Rose✩

When you first joined the group, it was quite hard to fit in. Jyp wanted to make a mixed group. A group that would blow the internet up. Since Chan was choosing the members, he made sure the girl would fit in with the others. It turned out that you were the perfect fit for the group. Singing, rapping, visuals, you had it all. Chan took you under his wing as the oldest, making sure you felt as comfortable as you could get.

The boys were quite nervous around you. I mean lets be honest, its quite nerve wracking to know that a girl is gonna be apart of your group, meaning you have to be respectful, tidy up your space, make sure that the friendship stays platonic. It was hard for some of them of course, having a cute girl in the dorms was definitely exciting but it never bubbled up into something serious.

After a few years of getting to know the boys, writing songs together, practicing, talking.. you got used to them, and so did they. Any suspicion of romantic attraction was thrown out the window in their mind. They saw you as their little sister, besides Jeongin since you’re a few months older then him!

Now you’re probably asking yourself; how do they act around me? Well…

Chan

Very sweet

Most likely a father figure at this point

Has this soft spot for you when you ask for certain stuff

Protective

Everytime the others flirt with you, he kinda just sighs, knowing damn well theres gonna be rumors about that again

He honestly gave up on trying to stop it and just started getting all lovey dovey with you too

Lays on top of you to make you groan in annoyance

Minho

You know how he’s called the butt hunter? Yeah none of that for you

My dude has never touched you inappropriately

Very VERY respectful, even after all these years

Though his mouth still runs when he gets the chance to say something flirty

Ruffles your hair alot

The way he smiles at Han? You get the same treatment

Changbin

Such a silly guy

Honestly just throws you around alot

Head pats

Everytime you’re doing your hair, he kinda sits in the corner just watching you

Not in a creepy way or anything, he just admires the way it falls

Dances the sassiest choreographies with you

Most of the tiktoks you guys have posted are all girl group dances

Hyunjin

Genuinely just melts looking at you /p

Finds you so precious

You know how he has that cute aggression towards jeongin? Yeah expect it to happen to you too

Gets you jewelry alot, just because you mentioned you like wearing it on occasions

Leaves soft lingering touches alot (by accident, like around the waist or neck)

Paints you 24/7

If you’re into art too, you guys would always go out somewhere quiet and just paint the scenery

And if not then you are drawing ugly portraits of each other

Everytime you decide to go out at night without bodyguards for whatever reason, he is always the first to say he’s going with you

No you can’t decline, even Chan says he has to go with you because you could get in trouble

Jisung

Biggest fanboy

Forces you to call him oppa

But you dont, and he whines about it

Most touchy out of all the members

Always has an arm around your shoulder or waist

He just likes to know that you’re close

He might’ve had a crush on you at the beginning of the trainee years

He was gonna take that one to the grave but hyunjin exposed him in a skz code episode once

Now all the stays mess around with him

You guys as a duo get in trouble the most

Absolutely pulls that 'going in for a kiss' move on you

Screams if you lean in

Falls asleep in your bed

Felix

Softie

He has this weird obsession with poking your cheeks

Since the beginning of trainee years, he spent most of his time around you

Mostly because you understood him the best (besides Chan)

Gets so upset if you’re upset

Real bestie behavior

You get in trouble together 2.0

Always takes you out to shopping because you’re most honest when it comes to the clothes he picks out

You guys have this special bond together

Singing karaoke in your bedroom>>

You usually like to pretend to kiss him, he never backs up though which ruins your joke most of the time and he loves it

Cuddles with you the most

Seungmin

His part time job is literally to tease the living shit out of you

Feels the need to be gentle with you

Probably because you’re a girl

You’re not a fan of it

He always gets you your favorite boba flavor

Has seen you cry the most

Has even spend over 2 hours just listening to you vent out your frustrations

You always make flirty jokes but he just pushes you away till you stop saying that shit to him

And if he isn’t pushing you away, then he gets real close to catch you off guard

Even though he always denies it on camera when the others mention it, he gets quite happy when you guys end up having to share a bed in skz codes episodes or other shows

His reasoning for it, is because you tend to wrap yourself around him which comforts him

Jeongin

Makes fun of the fact that you’re shorter then him

Pokes your sides all the time

Annoying Little brother and frustrated big sister behavior

Even though he doesn’t admit it, he wishes you were younger then him so he could take care of you just like the others do

He isn’t a fan of physical touch, so whenever you get too close he playfully looks disgusted

But if you’re in need of touch, he is very willing to give it

If he’s feeling like it, he likes to slow dance on stage at concerts

But he immediately gets embarrassed

It feels good to write something again😋 -Rose✩