#But this is the best game to help with that

[keeryhours]

there is no other love (it’s only yours) - steve harrington

Steve Harrington x female! reader

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Summary:

You and your best friend are constantly mistaken for a couple - sometimes you have a little fun with it.

Or, 5 times you were mistaken for Steve Harrington’s girlfriend, and the one time you really were.

Warnings:

Kissing, underage drinking, just fluff

Word Count: 8k

A/N:

Wow this is finally getting posted! This has been in my docs half written since JANUARY. I’m excited to finally share it with you, and anon who requested this, I hope you’re still around to see it! Thank you @punkrockmlchael for my banner ❤️

The first time you were mistaken for Steve’s girlfriend, you were in high school. It was a Friday night and the atmosphere in Hawkins was electric. The basketball team was about to play the championship game, and the whole school was crowded into the gym.

You dressed in a shirt you made with Steve’s number, 11, painted onto it, Harrington across the back. You used face paint to draw little 11s onto your cheeks. When you walked into the gym, Steve spotted you immediately, running up to you and wrapping you in a tight hug,

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said, a huge grin on his face. “Look at you, all school spirit-ed up!”

“Just for you,” you laughed. “Harrington’s #1 fan.”

Steve looked genuinely touched. He pulled you into another hug, holding you until his coach called for him.

“Harrington! We need you over here!”

Steve pulled back, hands on your shoulders as he smiled at you. “See you after the game. I better hear you in the crowd.” Then he turned and jogged back to where the rest of his team waited for him.

You were still smiling as you climbed the steps, finding a spot with a great view of the whole court. Carol and Tina gave you a strange look as you passed, but you ignored them.

The game started, and the crowd came alive. Your eyes were glued to Steve the whole time, watching as he expertly blocked the other team’s shots and made basket after basket. He was running the court, and you had never felt more proud.

The other team was not having a good time. One of their players in particular started getting rough with Steve, elbowing him and knocking him to the ground. You gasped, standing to get a better look, but he was fine. Jason offered him a hand and helped him up, and the ref called a foul.

Steve was awarded a free throw. He stood behind the free throw line, bouncing the ball a couple of times as he lined up his shot. He tossed the ball and it effortlessly flew through the air, swishing through the basket. He took his second free throw, once again sinking the ball in the basket. His teammates clapped him on the back as they got back to the game. Steve looked into the stands, spotting you immediately and giving you a smile and small wave that you happily returned.

The game was close. The clock ticked down the remainder of the fourth quarter, and the other team was just barely in the lead, 71 to 70. Steve got control of the ball, spinning around to face the net. The timer went on - 2 seconds, 1 second - and Steve took the shot. All of Hawkins held their breath as the ball flew through the air, seemingly in slow motion - and swished through the basket.

The crowd went wild. You stood, jumping up and down as you screamed your head off. The team surrounded Steve, lifting him high in the air as they chanted - “Harrington! Harrington! Harrington!”

You ran down the steps as fast as you could. Steve turned to you like you were the only person in the room, holding his arms out for you to run into. He scooped you up, twirling you around as you laid your head on his sweaty shoulder.

“That was incredible!” You exclaimed once he sat you down. “You were amazing out there!”

“Thank you,” he said, the huge grin plastered to his face. He was riding the high of the win, of being the star player of the Hawkins varsity basketball team. It was a well deserved pride.

Your moment was interrupted by Carol and Tina approaching. They gave you a look, eyes moving between you and Steve.

“So are you guys, like, dating now?” Carol asked, her tone bitchy as usual.

You opened your mouth to say no, you were just friends, but Steve beat you to it.

“Yeah, we are,” he said proudly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “We’ve been dating for a couple months now. She’s the best, isn’t she?”

You looked up at him in confusion, but decided to go along with it. “Oh, yeah,” you added. “Steve is just amazing. He’s the best boyfriend ever.”

Steve went on. “We’ve been best friends forever, you know, but I finally confessed my feelings and asked her out. I was terrified. But she said she felt the same, and the rest is history, as they say.” He chuckled. “Best thing I’ve ever done. She’s my dream girl.”

Carol and Tina both looked between you, their expressions judgmental as they chewed their bubblegum. “Well, good for you guys, I guess,” Carol said, before the two of them walked off.

When they were out of earshot, you turned to Steve, brows furrowed. “We’ve been dating for a couple months?” You questioned him, a laugh in your voice.

Steve shrugged, grinning. “Why not? It’s none of their business anyway.”

“You came up with a whole backstory.” You shook your head, laughing. “You’re ridiculous.”

Everyone at school thought you were dating after that, and neither of you ever corrected anyone. When prom season rolled around, Steve asked you to go - just as friends. You went shopping with Robin and found the perfect dress - dark purple, sleeveless and with a poofy skirt. It fell to just below your knees. It made you feel beautiful, you had been looking forward to prom your whole life, never having an excuse to dress up like this.

Your older sister, Lori, came over, excited to help you get ready. You sat on the bench of your vanity, talking and laughing with her as she curled your hair, then did your makeup. She did your eyeshadow first, a smokey eye that went well with your dress. She painted your lips with a nude color. 

Steve picked you up that evening, knocking on your door and using his Harrington charm on your mom, who already loved him. She always told you that you and Steve should get married, and jokingly called him her son in law when he wasn’t around.

When you walked down the stairs and saw him, your heart skipped a beat. In reality you were just friends, of course, but he looked so handsome it nearly took your breath away. He was dressed in a black tux, a dark purple tie on to match your dress. He might have looked even better than you did, you thought.

“You look beautiful,” Steve said. He held a purple corsage in his hand, still in its clear box.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” You reached for the hall table and grabbed the matching purple boutonniere sitting on top.

Your mom took about a million photos as you pinned the boutonniere to Steve’s jacket and he slid the corsage onto your wrist. Then you were made to pose for another million photos. You didn’t entirely mind, and Steve sure didn’t - he was absolutely eating up the attention - but you were ready to get going when she was finally satisfied.

Steve held out his arm and you looped yours through his. Your parents and Lori watched you from the front door as you walked - and saw a limo sitting out front.

“Steve!” You gasped. “This is too much.”

“It’s not every day we go to prom,” he smiled. “I wanted to make it special.”

Steve held your hand as you climbed into the back of the limo, him right behind you. When the limo began moving, he reached into the mini fridge and pulled out a bottle of champagne, holding it up on display and raising his eyebrows. “Want a drink?”

“Uh, yes,” you said, like it was obvious - which it was. Steve grinned as he grabbed two champagne flutes and filled them with the bubbly liquid.

You laughed together as you drank on the way to school, and by the time you got there you were both pretty tipsy. It was going to be a fun night.

Steve helped you climb out from the limo, escorting you inside. You stopped to take a photo together where Jonathan was running the booth. As you walked into the auditorium, Time After Time was just beginning to play.

Steve held out his hand - “Dance with me?”

You didn’t have to be asked twice. You took his hand and he led you to the dance floor, his hands sliding to your waist as your arms went around his neck and he held you close. You slow danced with your best friend, worried he could feel your heart beating against his own chest. The way he looked at you sent butterflies flying in your stomach. You almost thought he might kiss you.

But that would be silly, wouldn’t it?

After high school, you and Steve both got jobs at Scoops Ahoy. The uniforms were stupid and the job was mundane, but at least you got to work with your best friend. And Steve was pretty cute in the sailor outfit.

“I didn’t even know there were this many ice cream flavors in existence,” Steve said on your first day, looking down at the freezer in wonder. “It’s like…ice cream wonderland.”

You snorted. “Do you want some ice cream, Stevie?”

He looked at you, eyebrows raised. “Uh, yeah, I do. You’re telling me you’re not excited by free ice cream?”

“I guess it’s one perk of this shitty job.” You grabbed two of the sample spoons. “What flavor?”

Steve examined the freezer again. “Rocky Road.”

��Chocolate chip cookie dough for me,” you said, opening the glass door and scooping one of each flavor. You handed the spoon to Steve, who ate it right away.

Steve watched you as you ate the ice cream off the spoon, making you blush. You licked the delicious treat off the spoon, him watching you intently the whole time. “What?”

“Nothing,” Steve said, shaking his head as he turned back to the cash register, acting like he was doing something very important as his shorts suddenly felt uncomfortably tight, the skin of his neck heating in a blush.

The two of you goofed around until the mall opened, then it was a steady stream of customers ready to cool down from the summer heat. It kept you busy, but some of the customers liked to talk.

“You’re such a beautiful girl,” one older lady commented as you scooped her mint chocolate chip. “Is that handsome young man your boyfriend?”

You started to laugh, “Oh, he’s-“

But Steve interrupted, putting his arm around you. You were surprised by the butterflies that took flight in your stomach. “Yeah, we’ve been dating for years. High school sweethearts. It was our dream to open this ice cream shop together. Now it’s finally come true, hasn’t it sweetheart?”

You looked at him. “That’s right babe. I’m just happy to be on this adventure, setting sail on the ocean of flavor, with you.”

Steve kissed you on the temple before he beamed back at the woman, who seemed to believe you as she took her ice cream, smiling at you both. “How cute. That’s wonderful. You remind me of me and my husband at your age.”

When she left, you and Steve busted out laughing. “Nice job, sweetheart,” he laughed.

“You’ve got to stop telling people we’re together,” you shook your head with a smile.

“Why? It’s fun.” Steve lifted his sailor hat to run a hand through his immaculate hair. You couldn’t help but notice his new sneakers he got to match his uniform. He would do something like that.

Steve was in the back when a group of familiar kids walked in. Before they could even ask, you turned. “Stevie, your kids are here!”

Steve came around the corner, hands on his hips. “Really? Again?”

“It’s Day of the Dead,” Dustin reasoned. “We can’t get in and we aren’t missing it.”

You wandered to the back, leaving Steve to deal with the group of kids using him to sneak into an R rated movie. You decided it was the perfect time to take your break, sitting at the table and grabbing your book from your bag, flipping to where you left off.

Out front, Dustin gave Steve a smirk. “So, that’s her?”

Steve’s head twisted around in a panic to make sure you were out of earshot. When he turned back to the kids, his expression was irritated. “Dude.”

“She’s pretty,” Mike commented. “I see why you’re so obsessed.”

“I am not-“ Steve looked around again before leaning closer onto the counter. “I am not obsessed.”

“Yeah, okay, man,” Lucas said, telling Steve he didn’t believe him for a second.

“You never shut up about her,” Max contributed. “We’re not dumb. It’s obvious you’re in loooove.”

Steve blushed furiously, looking down to hide the redness of his cheeks. “I am not…you know what, don’t you have a movie to catch?”

He quickly led them through the back, not giving a single one of them the opportunity to speak to you. He didn’t trust them one bit. He opened the door to the back hall and the kids all filed out, making kissy noises at him as they left.

Because Steve definitely wasn’t in love with you. You were just his best friend. Nothing more. He swears.

Your sister Lori had a baby girl 6 months after you graduated high school. She named her Annie, and she was really a perfect baby. Always so calm and well behaved, and she loved spending time with you and Steve.

You were basically volunteered for babysitting duty whenever it was needed, but you didn’t mind. You always loved kids, and you loved your sister and your niece. It was fun to play house for the day, go out in public and pretend you were a mom. It was especially fun when Steve tagged along, because, well, he made everything more fun.

When Annie was 1 year old, your sister left you in charge while she and her husband went to Indianapolis for the day. You and Steve decided to have a fun day and take her out to the children’s museum. She had just gotten walking down and always wanted to be independent now.

It took Steve an annoyingly long time to find a parking spot and it was making Annie fussy, so when he finally did, you were all relieved.

“Way too fuckin’ busy for a Tuesday,” Steve grumbled as he killed the car engine and started unbuckling his seat belt. You grabbed Annie from the back and got her buckled in her stroller, which Steve pushed to the front door. He bought three tickets from the counter and you all headed inside, Annie looking at the surrounding ocean exhibit with wide eyed wonder.

Steve was amazing with kids. It always made you feel warm and fuzzy inside to see him interact with them, and the way he played with your niece was no exception. He sat her on his shoulders as he walked through the museum, giving her the best view of anything she could want to see.

When you reached the mini grocery store setup, Steve sat the wiggling toddler down and she grabbed his hand, leading him through the fake store. She added all kinds of pretend food to her mini shopping cart, and when she was done, Steve manned the cash register and scanned her purchases.

“Having a cookout this weekend?” Steve asked as he scanned a pretend pack of hot dogs. “Beautiful weather for it.” When she was done, she walked off with her cart. Steve stopped her - “Ma’am! Your change!”

In the playground area, Annie found some toddlers her age and began playing with the blocks with them. You and Steve took a much needed break as you sat together on a bench with Annie in full view.

“Long day,” Steve sighed, stretching his arms above his head. His shirt rode up the slightest bit, revealing a tiny bit of skin. Your eyes went right to it.

“Yeah,” you agreed when you wiped the drool off your chin. “You having fun though?”

“‘Course,” Steve smiled at you. “I love hanging out with my girls.”

His girls. The sentence made you feel giddy, like you weren’t just babysitting your niece and maybe had an actual family with Steve. A wedding ring, an adorable brown haired hazel eyed child. You let yourself entertain the thought.

The couple sat on the bench next to you turned your way, the woman giving you a friendly smile. “Is she yours?” She asked, pointing to Annie.

“Oh, yeah,” you answered. Steve leaned around you to look at the couple. “Her name is Annie.”

“She’s adorable,” the woman said. “That’s mine, Oliver.” She pointed to the little boy handing Annie a block. “Sorry if it’s rude to ask, but how old are you two?”

“We’re nineteen,” Steve answered for you. “Just graduated from Hawkins High a year ago.”

“That’s where we met,” the woman said, smiling at her husband before turning back to you. “You’re so young. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Well,” you began, looking at Steve. “It’s definitely hard, but we always knew we wanted kids. Especially Steve.” You leaned on his shoulder, smiling at the couple like you were head over heels in love. “So we got an early start.”

“I’m 30 and I still feel like I don’t know what I’m doing sometimes,” she laughed. “You two are doing great. You have a beautiful family.”

The comment made your heart soar, as if you hadn’t just completely lied to this woman and it wasn’t all pretend. You squeezed Steve’s hand, and he returned it.

When Annie started fussing and rubbing her eyes, you knew it was time to get her home for a nap. You just hoped the day’s excursion had worn her out enough to lay down without a fuss and take a good one. You put her back in her stroller, and Steve pushed it as you left the building.

“So I have to stop making up stories about us being together?” Steve whispered, teasing you for your earlier words.

You blushed. “It was just the perfect opportunity. She totally assumed we were together and Annie was ours.”

“She did,” Steve agreed. “But you surprised me, I didn’t think you’d go for it. I mean, I would have if you didn’t, but still.”

You burst into laughter. “I knew you were thinking it!”

Steve laughed, too. He shook his head, brown locks brushing against the collar of his shirt. “Of course I was thinking it.”

Annie was passed out by the time you got her back into her car seat. Steve was such a natural with her, it made your heart flutter in your chest. You thought about what it might be like if you were together, if Steve was really your boyfriend - or husband - and you had a child together. You knew he would be the best dad in the world. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind.

He played the radio quietly as you drove back home. Neither of you spoke, not wanting to wake Annie. She probably wouldn’t nap once you got home, so you wanted her to get as much rest as possible. But every now and then Steve would turn to you, giving you a soft smile that made your stomach do flips.

When he dropped you off, he helped you carry the sleeping baby inside. Your sister held her hand over her chest as she watched Steve with Annie, shooting you a knowing look behind his back that had you blushing.

“Thank you for taking her,” she told you both. She kept shooting you glances that were far too obvious for your comfort.

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Steve said, usual charming smile on his face. “We had a good time.”

“Yeah?” Lori asked, smiling between you two like an idiot. You gave her a look that said please stop.

“Yes,” you answered for the both of you. You pushed Steve through the house and to your bedroom as he laughed.

“I like your sister,” Steve said, laughing. “I don’t know why you’re always trying to get away from her.”

“She’s embarrassing,” you muttered.

“She’s nice,” Steve said.

Yeah, when she isn’t trying to embarrass you in front of your friend. You shook your head. “You don’t get it. You don’t have any siblings.”

Steve kind of deflated at that, and you instantly felt bad. You knew Steve’s family was a touchy subject. His parents were pretty emotionally neglectful, never around, hardly cared what Steve did as long as he showed up to school and didn’t get himself killed. But he was lonely, and always had been. He’d wished for a sibling for as long as he could remember.

You put a hand on his shoulder. “You can have her, if you want.”

That got a smile out of Steve. He nudged your forehead with his own. “Nah. I’d rather just spend time with you.”

“You’re coming tonight, right?” Eddie asked excitedly, practically bouncing up and down as he cornered you, Steve, and Robin at Family Video.

“It is Tuesday,” you said, closing up a VHS box and giving Eddie a smile. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Ed.”

Eddie was beaming as he turned to Steve and Robin expectantly. Steve had been leaning against the counter on one arm, watching you and Robin. With Eddie’s waiting gaze on him, Steve looked between you and him. “Well, I don’t go anywhere without her, so. Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“We’ll all be there,” Robin said. “Calm down.”

Eddie was practically bouncing off the walls. This was a big show for Corroded Coffin - not the typical Tuesday night crowd with five drunks. The rumor was someone from a label was supposed to be there. Eddie had been demanding you all come for moral support - and to make the crowd look at least a little bit better.

That night, you dug through your closet looking for something metal concert-appropriate. You didn’t have much to choose from. You ultimately decided on a black top that tied in the front and a tiny little matching skirt. Some tall lace up boots and tights pulled the look together.

When you walked outside to Steve’s car, you could see his eyes widen through the window. You had to pull your skirt down as you got in to keep from flashing him.

“Jesus,” Steve practically choked out. “You look-“

“Ridiculous?” you filled in for him. “Yeah, I know.”

“That…is not what I was going to say.” Steve shook his head, blowing out a long breath of air as he backed out of the driveway.

You picked up Robin next, who slid into the backseat behind you. Both Steve and Robin were dressed in their normal wardrobe - you felt kind of like a total fucking idiot. This wasn’t you.

You didn’t notice the way Steve kept looking at you, letting his gaze linger way longer than he knew he should’ve. Robin noticed.

At the Hideout, Steve put a hand on your lower back and led you into the crowded bar. It was packed for a Tuesday. Steve left you and Robin in a booth and took to the bar with his fake ID.

When he came back, he had three beers held in his hands. He placed them down in front of each of you and slid into the booth on your side.

There were a few opening acts before Corroded Coffin - no one particularly interesting. You were barely listening to the music at all as you chatted with Robin and Steve, laughing harder and harder the more drinks you got in your system.

When Eddie came onstage, the three of you cheered louder than anyone. He caught your eyes in the crowd immediately, smiling and waving back. The band started playing, and you nodded along to the music.

“I need another drink,” you said, hinting that Steve should get up to let you out.

“I’ll go get it for you,” he said, standing.

“No, I need to stretch my legs,” you said. You had forgotten just how tiny your skirt was until you stood and could feel the breeze on your upper thighs. “We can go together.”

Steve nodded, leading you through the crowd. You may not have noticed, but Steve didn’t miss the way every guy in the bar was looking at you, letting their eyes freely drop to your barely-covered ass. Steve shot dirty looks to all of them, staying close behind with his hands on you at all times.

You made it to the bar, leaning against it. It was packed, the bartender all the way at the other end. “This is gonna take forever,” you groaned.

“Wait here,” Steve said. “I’ll go catch him down there. Another beer?”

“And some shots,” you smirked, which Steve returned. You watched him go, disappearing into the crowd of people.

“That your boyfriend?”

You turned around, startled. A large man stood behind you, not entirely unfriendly looking, but you knew better than to trust strange men in bars. “What?”

“Was that your boyfriend?” the man asked, gesturing towards Steve. You looked back at him at the bar before turning back to the man.

“Yes,” you said on instinct.

The man looked like he didn’t quite believe you, like maybe you were just trying to get rid of him (you were). “How long you been together?”

“5 years,” you said easily, thinking of the day you and Steve had become official best friends. “High school sweethearts.”

“Oh yeah?” the man said, his little interest waning.

“Yeah,” you said. “Actually, he stole me from that guy up there.” You gestured up to where Eddie was going crazy on stage, and the man’s eyes widened. “We were together for a little while. But Steve? He’s the real rocker, if you know what I mean.”

The man looked thoroughly uncomfortable at this point. The sight of Steve coming back over from over your shoulder was enough of a push for him to get out of this interaction. “Have a good rest of your night.”

“The real rocker, huh?” Steve asked with a smirk, sliding up next to you and handing you a shot. He carried both your beers in his one hand. You tilted your head back and swallowed the shot with ease. “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” you said. “I think he was gonna hit on me. Asked if you were my boyfriend.”

“And you said yes?” Steve asked teasingly.

“Well, yeah. I didn’t want to deal with that.”

“Nice story,” Steve said, and you blushed, realizing he had probably overheard more than you thought. “I’m the real rocker?” he repeated, like he had really gotten a kick out of that.

You shrugged. “It made him uncomfortable. I thought it was funny.” You took a second shot.

Steve looked at you - really looked at you. His eyes slowly trailed over your body, your outfit, taking in every inch of skin exposed by the tiny material. His heart thudded harder, harder in his chest. He opened his mouth to say something he’d probably regret when Robin came up between you, grabbing your arm.

“You guys took forever,” she said. “Now I need a drink.”

It had been a few years since graduation when Richard Harrington decided he was done torturing his son and gave him a job at his insurance company.

Steve’s first real Big Boy Job. A job where he had to dress in business casual, get up early to style his hair and iron his shirts. He did well there, rising up the ladder faster than expected - you knew it was on Steve’s own merit because his dad wasn’t exactly the charitable type.

You were a junior in college, studying education. Dean’s list, soaring grades, on track to be class valedictorian. Things were going well.

“Do you want to come with me to the company Christmas party?” Steve asked one evening as you were lounging at your apartment. He was still in his work clothes, button up shirt undone with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He’d come over right after he got off. Most days, all he wanted to do when he got off work was hang out with you.

“You want me to go?” you asked, sitting your mug of hot chocolate on the coffee table.

“Yeah, of course,” Steve said, like it was obvious. “I mean, it’s probably gonna be lame, but if you’re there-“

“I’ll go,” you said. “Do I need to dress up?”

“Uh…yeah. Probably,” Steve said.

“It’s fun to have an excuse to dress up sometimes,” you mused.

You couldn’t find anything in your closet you actually liked that fit the vibe of Steve’s fancy annual company Christmas party - so you dragged Robin and Lori out shopping with you. Lori was having fun, at least.

“How many dresses are you gonna try on?” Robin whined, running her hand absentmindedly through the rack of clothes. “I feel like you’ve tried on everything in the store.”

“I just haven’t found the right dress yet,” you mumbled as you examined a little black number on the rack. For some reason, this had to be perfect. You had to look perfect. It was important to you.

“You’ll find it,” Lori said. “It’s in here. I can feel it.”

It was an hour later, and Robin was dragging her feet. You were starting to feel bad - maybe you shouldn’t have brought her, but you missed her since you no longer worked together. You didn’t get to see each other as often.

“Oh my god,” Lori said, slowly pulling a hanger down. “This…”

You turned and saw your sister holding a glittering short red dress. It was stunning. It fit the Christmas/winter wonderland vibe perfectly. You took it from her, the material softer against your skin than you expected.

“Go try it on,” Lori encouraged.

You went into the changing room for what felt like the millionth time and shed your familiar clothes. You took the dress off the hanger, the fabric cascading across your skin like water. It was easy to put on, too.

You stepped out of the dressing room, and Lori gasped.

“Oh, finally,” Robin said.

Turning to look in the mirror against the wall, seeing yourself in the dress for the first time - it took your breath away. You had never felt particularly confident in yourself, but if anything was going to give you unbeatable confidence, it was this dress.

“You look so hot,” Lori said.

“Agreed,” Robin added. “This is the one. And I’m not just saying that because I wanted to get out of here 6 dresses ago.”

That night you dressed in your new gown. The hem went right to mid thigh, showing off your legs in a very sexy way. It showed off your cleavage just enough without it being too revealing for a company Christmas party.

You knew Steve was just your best friend, but you were about to knock him dead.

He picked you up right on time, the knock on the door coming at 6 on the dot. You opened your apartment door to the sight of Steve dressed in navy pants with a white and grey button up and matching suit jacket - a red tie around his neck that somehow matched your dress perfectly. He wore his glasses, which he hardly ever did. 

He had been standing there in his normal bored kinda way, leaning against the door frame as he waited for you to answer like he had much more interesting things to do. But once you opened the door and he saw you, he practically choked, standing up straight and nearly tripping over his own feet.

“Wow,” he finally managed to get out. “You- you look incredible.”

“Looking handsome yourself,” you smiled playfully, grabbing your black clutch from the hall table. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, ready,” he said, still distracted. Even with his mind reeling and actively trying not to look too hard at your body, he led you to the car with his hand on your back, opening the door for you and holding your hand as you sat down.

“Is this a date, Harrington?” you teased him as he got into the driver’s seat of his new car. “This feels kinda like a date.”

Steve laughed lightly. “Just trying to be a gentleman.” He thought for a second. “I guess you could be considered my date for the night. By some people.”

“Our first date,” you cooed playfully. “Cute.”

At the office building, Steve parked in his designated spot - close to the front. He helped you out and escorted you inside with you hanging onto his arm. You stepped on the elevator and Steve pressed the button for the 15th floor.

The doors closed, and you and Steve were left in the quiet, the only sound the rumbling of the ascending metal box.

Steve cleared his throat. He looked like he was trying to look anywhere but at you. It was starting to make you feel a little bad. “Do you not like my dress?” you asked softly, your earlier confidence being left behind in the ground floor lobby. “Are you embarrassed?”

“No!” Steve said quickly, almost a little too loud. “No, that’s not- I like it. I really like it. You look stunning. Actually…” he thought for a second. “Stunning,” he said again. “You’re gonna be the hottest chick there.”

You laughed, feeling a little better. You just couldn’t understand why Steve was being so weird.

On the top floor, it was much louder. Muffled Christmas music traveled down the bright white hall, and Steve led you down, opening the door for you.

A party had been set up inside, not huge, but pretty big. Lots of guys in suits dressed similarly to Steve, mingling with drinks in their hands and beautiful women on their sides. You were sure most of these women had rings on their fingers, however. Big, flashy rocks.

Steve was quickly wrapped up in a whirlwind of conversations with his colleagues. You were each handed a champagne flute that you sipped on while you listened to Steve talk about things you didn’t understand while smiling and laughing at the appropriate times.

But Steve kept his hands on you. If you weren’t holding onto his arm, his left arm was around your waist, or his hand on the small of your back. And you couldn’t help but notice how handsome and grown he looked. Steve never wore his glasses, but all of a sudden you wished he would more often.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” you whispered to Steve just as he got waved over by another man.

He looked down at you. “Do you want me to take you? They’re just over there, but-“

“No, I’m okay,” you smiled. “Keep mingling. I’ll be right back.”

Steve watched you leave, the sway of your hips in the fabric of that dress near hypnotizing. When you were out of sight, he turned and walked over to Tom, the guy who had been calling him over.

“Hey, man,” Tom greeted, clapping Steve on the back. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Yeah, having a pretty good time,” Steve answered with a friendly smile.

“Was that your girl?” Tom asked, nodding in the direction you’d gone. And Steve wasn’t going to play the game tonight - he really wasn’t - but then Tom said, “Because I’ve been watching her all night, and she’s hot as hell. I was going to ask for her number if she’s just a friend. Or maybe you could set a guy up?” He waggled his eyebrows at Steve mischievously, and Steve felt like he could’ve punched the guy.

“She’s my girlfriend,” Steve said. He told Tom your name - and it had never felt quite so right rolling off his tongue.

“Lucky bastard,” Tom teased. “I hope you appreciate what you’ve got. Because that girl is-“

“Yeah, I get it,” Steve said, politely cutting him short. “I’m a lucky guy, believe me I know it.”

“How’d you two meet?”

“High school,” Steve answered easily. “She was, uh…she was my assigned math tutor.” He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck as he recounted the memory. “Brought me from a D to an A in that class. I’d never learned so much in my life.”

“If my math teacher looked like that…”

Steve smiled, as if he was lost down memory lane. “We became best friends after that. Literally inseparable since. I haven’t gone a day without her in 10 years.”

“That’s sweet man, really,” Tom said, more genuine this time. “I’m happy for you. You deserve a nice girl. Just don’t be an idiot - don’t let her go.”

Don’t let her go.

The words rang around in Steve’s ears for the rest of the night. Even when you returned, back by his side while he made the rounds - he couldn’t stop thinking about what Tom had said. Don’t let her go. Don’t let her go.

Steve hadn’t realized how he felt about you until it slapped him in the face in that exact moment - out of nowhere, it nearly knocked him off his feet. He looked down at you, smiling and laughing as you sipped on your champagne and talked with his boss’s wife - and it nearly took his breath away.

How had he been so stupid all these years?

Sure, there had been times he was unbearably attracted to you - but he was only a man, and you usually happened to be wearing something unreasonably sexy when it happened. Like now.

But there was more. It was the way his heart clenched when you laughed. The way you made him smile like no one else. They way you made him laugh, kept up with his sense of humor, never made him feel stupid or less than. You befriended everyone - there wasn’t a cruel bone in your body. Friend of everyone, yet you never let anything get in the way of your friendship with Steve. You were his best friend.

And he loved you.

He had to get out of there.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked you, mid conversation.

You looked up at him, surprised. “What?”

“I think I’m ready to go,” he said. “I just think…I need to get out of here. Get some fresh air.”

You looked at him with your eyebrows drawn together in concern. “Okay. We can go.”

Grateful you didn’t put up a fight while Steve felt like he was losing his mind, he told everyone a quick goodbye and led you back to the elevator. The ride down was silent, and significantly more awkward. Steve couldn’t wait to be out.

The elevator dinged as it stopped at the lobby once more, and Steve speed walked off. You were running as fast as you could in your heels, trying to keep up. “Steve, wait up! Where are you going?”

He was outside now, the cold air whipping through his hair and making his nose burn. He knew you had to be freezing in that tiny little dress. He had made it to the large fountain in the courtyard when he turned abruptly, nearly making you knock onto his chest.

“Jesus,” you said, stopping. “What are you doing, Stevie? What happened in there? Are you okay?”

Steve didn’t answer any of your questions because he didn’t know how to. Instead, he took his suit jacket off and handed it to you. “Here. You’re probably cold.”

You looked at him strangely. But you were cold, so you took the jacket and slipped it over your shoulders. “Thanks.”

It was silent besides the running water sounds of the fountain. You and Steve just looked at each other, the only ones outside at this time of night. The party was still in full swing upstairs. You just stared each other down, both of you waiting on someone - the other or yourselves - to make the first move.

Steve finally took a step closer to you. He said your name, so gently it floated across to you on the breeze.

“What’s going on with you?” you asked. “I thought we were having a good time, and-“

“I’m in love with you.”

Your eyes went wide and you reeled back as if you’d been struck. “What?”

“You heard me.” Steve took another step. “I’m in love with you. I’m fucking in love with you. And I don’t think I can pretend I’m not anymore.”

You were in complete shock. The sounds of the rushing water filled your ears once again, and you gaped at Steve like a fish as you tried to come up with something to say. It felt like your brain had just completely short circuited.

Steve began to look defeated. His head dropped and he held intense eye contact with his loafers. “I…I just had to tell you. I’m sorry.”

More rushing water. Then - “Why are you sorry?”

“Because I think I just ruined the friendship,” he said. “I think I just ruined our fucking friendship.”

“No,” you said immediately. It was your turn to take a step closer. “You didn’t.”

Steve slowly looked up at you, taking his time meeting your eyes as if he were afraid. You’d never seen Steve afraid. “I didn’t?”

“No,” you said. “Because I…I love you too. I’m in love with you too.”

You just stared at each other. That damn fountain carrying the whole atmosphere. Steve took another step, and he was standing so close to you you could smell his cologne and aftershave. His head was tilted down, looking into your eyes like he was reading you from the inside out. “You love me?”

It took you a minute to get your bearings. Your heart was pounding now, and you felt like your body was filled with bubbles from the champagne. Light, bubbly, like you could float away or maybe just pop out of existence. You nodded shakily. “Yeah. I…I love you.”

Steve’s forehead came down to gently rest against your own. Then he slowly raised his arm - his hand finding its spot on the side of your neck, cradling your jaw. “You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice so low you could barely hear him. “And I’m in love with you. So, so in love with you. Think I always have been.”

“Steve…”

He shook his head just barely. “Just let me…”

He leaned in those last couple of inches, and then Steve’s lips were pressed against yours. 

When people talk about sparks flying during a kiss, you’d never believed them. It had certainly never happened to you, and you’d kissed plenty of people. But you had never kissed Steve.

He moved his lips against yours so softly and slowly. Like he wanted to feel and savor every second of the kiss, didn’t want to rush. He was hungry for it, but he could take his time. Your hands came to sit on his biceps as his free hand rested on your waist.

It felt so right. It didn’t feel like a first kiss - there was no awkwardness, nothing uncomfortable, just pure passion and love and desire. Steve was a good kisser, too. His tongue traced your lip and you opened for him, his tongue just barely brushing against yours.

Steve let out the slightest breathy moan, like he had finally gotten something he’d been longing for for so long. Your knees wobbled and his grip tightened on your hip, pulling your body closer into his.

“Don’t go fallin’ for me too hard, now,” Steve smirked, his voice so low and deep it gave you chills even though he was being his normal cheesy self.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Harrington,” you said, still breathless from the kiss. Steve only smiled bigger.

He kissed you again, shorter this time. A couple soft pecks against your lips, then a longer press, like he didn’t want to stop. “Be my girlfriend.”

“Are you serious?” you laughed. “How much champagne did you have?”

“Hardly any,” he said, “and I’m dead serious. Did you not just hear me tell you I love you?”

“You meant that?” you whispered.

“‘Course I did,” he whispered back, nudging your nose with his own. “I want you. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. All those shitty dates…my failed love life…” Steve laughed lightly. “And you were right here in front of me the whole time.”

Your expression softened, looking up at Steve with eyes that were somehow glittering in the night. Steve’s breath hitched in his throat - you were quite literally breathtaking.

“Yeah,” you said. “I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Steve’s smile grew. His only reaction was to pull you in again, wrapping his arms around your body as yours went around his neck and he kissed you nice and slow again with all the love in the world, beneath the December stars.

“Can you help me with the potato salad?” Lori asked, already three dishes in her arms and Annie clung to her leg.

“Yeah, of course,” you said, jumping into action. You grabbed the bowl of potato salad along with the ice bucket and followed Lori out into the backyard.

The sun was shining, a perfect Memorial Day. The cousins were splashing in the pool, the older relatives talking as they sat in the warm sun with smiles on their faces and beers or lemonades in their hands. You and Lori put the dishes down on the buffet table. Lori was dressed in a one piece swimsuit with a sheer coverup on top, while you were in your red bikini top with short jean shorts over the bottoms.

“Finally,” Lori said. “I didn’t think the food was ever gonna get done.” She turned to you, hands on her hips as she caught her breath. There had been a lot of running around, and she was five months pregnant. “Thanks for your help.”

“Of course,” you said. “I couldn’t leave you to fend for yourself with the aunts.” Family had come from all over the surrounding states for this Memorial Day reunion, and it was…a lot.

Lori let out a groan. “Thank god for you.”

You squealed as arms wrapped themselves around your body and lifted you into the air. Lori just watched on with a knowing yet amused smile.

“Steve!” you scolded once he’d set you down. You slapped at his arm lightly.

“What?” he said. “I missed you.”

“It’s been like 20 minutes!”

“Tell me about it,” he said, pulling your body into his and kissing you.

“Get a room,” Lori teased, although she was still smiling as she turned and walked away.

“Are you enjoying the party?” you asked Steve as he picked up a deviled egg and popped it into his mouth.

“Yeah,” he said. He chewed and swallowed. “Your family is nice.”

“You weren’t scared to meet the whole family after only 5 months of dating?” You smiled, your hand running over his bare chest.

“‘Course not,” Steve said. “I’ve already been part of the family for years. The extended family didn’t scare me.”

You loved that about Steve. He was so confident and sure of himself. One of endless things you loved about him.

You heard a voice calling your name. Your grandma was approaching, her paper plate piled high with potluck food. “Is this your boyfriend I’ve heard so much about?” she asked with a sly smile as she reached the two of you.

You smiled, looking up at Steve. He beamed back down at you like he’d never been happier in his life, his hand gently rubbing your lower back. “Yeah,” you said. “He is.”

“Hi,” Steve offered her his hand. “Steve. Nice to meet you.”

“He’s a cute one,” she whispered to you, but Steve definitely heard. You were sure he didn’t need the ego boost. “Don’t let him go.”

You leaned your head against Steve’s shoulder, and he squeezed your hip.

Yeah. You didn’t plan on it.

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[applecidersturniolo]

distraction.

in which..you’re distracting chris while he’s on the game..

warnings: pet names, basically porn w/ barley a plot.

chris’ freckled nose scrunches as his hand gripped the hair that is rooted from the top of your head,

“ngh! pretty girl— please. please. i’m tryin’ to—“ chris’ pleads get cut off by your cheeks hallowing around his shaft, making his head tilt back against his gaming chair, “fuckin’ shit.” chris groaned out.

thankfully the mic was muted, but the sounds of nate and matt on the other line rang through his headphones, he started to feel overwhelmed with the sensation of your warm and inviting mouth around his cock and the sound of his brother along with his best friend yelling at him to fucking move his fingers faster on the controller to carry the team.

chris’ hand reaches for the top of his headphones— his other hand still entangled in your hair— he pulls down the headset so it’s now resting around his neck. he feels a bead of sweat drip down his forehead as that hand glides to the other side of your head, your hair now out of the way showing the full view of you downing him so well.

“that’s it, baby..look at me..look at me, pretty.” chris instructed, your glossy eyes look up through your lashes, drool dripping down your chin. you feel his tip massage the back of your throat,

“hmph— taking me so well, always do.” he praises as he glides your head up and down his shaft, “stick out that pink tongue,” he demands, you already know what’s coming, suddenly his cock slides back down your throat, your nose pressing against his stomach as you gag softly, you feel the bottom of your tongue pressing against your chin and bottom lip as you try to make room for his big length.

“gonna cum-“ chris strains out, his grip on your hair tightens as he fucks your face, you try to breath through your nose to stop yourself from gagging as much, and it’s helping, because the way you’re taking him so good makes his legs tremble in pleasure. you watched as the vein in his neck pops out as his teeth collide with his bottom lip. you feel his angry cock twitch before releasing his load down your throat.

you swallow quickly and give him a minute to pant and calm down before releasing him.

“stick out your tongue, show me you swallowed it all” he breaths out,

you comply and stick out your tongue, proving you downed it all.

“good fucking girl,” he groans out as his hand finds your jaw to make you look up at him, “you’re such a tease you know that?” he asks cocking an eyebrow, “such a distraction.”

a/n: YEAH WE WANT SUM HEAD, WE WANTS SUM, YEAH WE SUM HEAD, SUM DOME.

TAGS FOR INTERACTION: @sturns-mermaid @malsmind @zenithsturniolo @oopsiedaisydeer @courta13 @adoreyousturniolos @bluestriips @slvt4subchratt

[grotesquevi]

misc. smut prompt #24 with ellie😝😘

cw   #  18+ mdni, academic rivals, fingering, dirty talk, loser sub!ellie, choking. as usual, this comes with a music rec. this is an special celebration as i just reached 1k followers! feel free to look at the prompt list i'll be working with to get some drabbles out and send a max of 2 numbers + a character to my ask if you want to join! wc: 1.8k they will be smaller than this also. i got heavily carried away. what the hell.

“can you stop being a damn pervert for five seconds of your life?” oh man. ellie shouldn't be enjoying this so much. shouldn't be so entertained by the scrunch your nose gives when talking to her, standing tall and ready to punch her in the nose if necessary "i can see you staring at my tits. quit being annoying."

"we are sharing a cig of peace, psycho" she dares to lie for a moment, turning away to light up the stick between her lips for a second, the smoke filling the air as she exhales — "i'm not staring at your tits."

"why did you drag me here anyway?" you inquire already losing your patience "i can barely hear the music and i'm sure jesse wont like the fact we're smoking in his room."

ellie cant help it anyway, when she's blowing the smoke to your face and you sigh pissed. of course you're acting like a prick: she took the #1 spot in most of your classes, become the favorite of the teachers taking away your spot even when you actually sacrifice a lot to have the attention you have only for her to be what? barely moving a finger to say something incredibly intelligent? fucking cunt.

"jesus. i brought you here to offer a deal, one that could benefit you if you listen for once" ellie swears she can see the tension, rigid muscles even when she's giving you the cigarette and you doubt for a second to accept it: is she capable of poison it? yes. but she's far from doing that to you—. "i was thinking of letting you be the first of the class again."

"you what?"

"yeah" to be sincere. ellie williams doesn't give two shits about being the best of the class, it's a title she's not that interested in carrying, and while you smoke, she also knows about the fact she's biased cause you're so pretty it hurts to see the hate on your face every time you look down her way. how you're able to be so actively avoiding her like she has done something awful, something more than just academic reasons. "i don't care about having the best grades. i can be mistaken in a couple of answers on the next tests and you'll be back in the game."

"and what do you want in return?"

"nothing."

"nothing? you can't be serious."

"yes," she thinks about it for a second before her impulses take over, ellie will regret this later after three more beers. "i won't make you sleep with me if that's what you're wondering."

"and why not?"

her breathing hitches on the back of her throat for a second, and she can't tell if you're being serious or if you're just messing with her — "are you asking me why i'm not blackmailing you with sex?"

"no, i'm asking if you want to sleep with me" you rephrase again hitting the jackpot, and as the silence settles in like a heavy blanket, it makes your rival stay silent for a minute or two before you're adding impatient as ever: "answer me. c'mon, i know you're quick to catch up."

"i just want you to stop giving me that look."

"which look?"

"you know. that look you give me every day in uni. when you're avoiding me at all costs. like there's no one you could hate more."

you try to think about an answer that's good enough to fight her accusations, but its impossible as you shut up and instead, smoke from the cigarette she gave you. the organic tobacco she rolled in an small paper in dead silence minutes before.

"i do hate you," you reply sincerely, "you're more intelligent than me. funnier. hotter. every one i've ever talked to fucking loves you, and it makes me hate you even more."

"i'm sorry."

"no i don't think you're sorry, ellie" now you're the one staring at her tits, at the half buttoned-tucked shirt, the necklace that gets lost inside right between a bra-less chest. she's using this black sleek pants and ellie can swear she can feel the holes your eyes make when taking in every part of her body, swallowing her slowly. "all of this outfit- is because you had an important test today?"

she doesn't realize you're that close at first, too late to say anything as she gulps down and nods—. "you mean for the suit? yes. needed a beer after all the stress."

"how did it go?” you’re so quick to reply, to keep the conversation going the way you want to. should be considered a damn talent cause it helps her brain take some time out when ellie’s feeling your hand in her legs, squeezing the flesh ever so slightly that she has to try so hard not to look at the contact there, burning. “bet you got an A since you’re a smart ass.”

"well, if i'm right, then i should be getting an A- while you can have the A+ next friday when it's your turn."

"you really thought about this a lot huh?"

"i did- sorry, are you trying to seduce me?" you seemed to forgot about the cigarette now consuming on the empty glass of water close to jesse's bed, makes ellie think about how she’s not blushing, why she sounds so confident even when you blatantly laugh at her face.

"you know what i hate even more about you?" your-so-long rival is currently lost in the color of your eyes, this damn t-shirt you're wearing that gives her such a nice view of your cleavage when she's fighting hard to keep her eyes focused on your face instead of your chest, have some decency for once — "how you got me all curious about you, without even noticing."

ellie's heart beats loudly in her ear, the sound making everything else fall into silence: you are flirting with her. and she let it happen cause she's amazed when your fingers tightens around her leg, squeezing the skin with a much more noticeable force and making her unsure for a second if thats you making a move, cause she's so into letting you have all of her.

of course it's a fucking move.

your lips are soft against hers, almost unsure if you should be more demanding until ellie's pushing you closer, parting her legs mid-way through the unexpected kiss as a silent invitation, as a way of almost saying she needs you taking more, over direct skin and not the layer of her jeans.

"yeah i am seducing you. i think its working just fine" you finally accepted, looking at her through those eyes she knows already from memory, that smile you always do when things go your way—. "would you finish opening up your legs f'me so i can finger you better?"

what amazes ellie even more than your question, is the blatant way she listens to you and actually do what you ask. when she's parting her legs wide open and her weight rests over the palm of her left hand when leaning backwards, and you seemed pleased as you're unzipping her pants, taking your shirt off cause you're kind enough to give her a nice view, something to ground her and bring the astronaut back to earth.

"is this okay?" she's erratic when nodding, as your hand toys with the waistband of her underwear — "you gonna tell me if it's too much, ells?"

"god, it's more than okay- i'll do anything you want me to," she cant help but choke when saying it, you're making her sweat in her cute suit. "anything at all. you just have to name it."

"good," you reply leaving soft kisses in the crook of her neck, not near enough to be marks, but yes to leave saliva glistening in the skin that slowly burned even hotter. "you just stay where you are and don't move. got you where i want you."

so your fingers graze against her underwear, soaked already it clings into her cunt, molding to your fingers. even from over a barrier of cotton, ellie swears she can feel the warmth of your fingertips go down her folds, pushing the underwear with a couple of digits until she can actually feel the roughness of it rubbing against the sensitive flesh, torturing her, driving her to a madness she craves to feel like a fever.

"oh fuck," ellie moans, her lips part unafraid of making some noises when the music's outside too loud to care, when she already locked the door from when she invited you to smoke a cigarette under the premise of having to talk. her hips rub on slow circles and suddenly she moving against your fingers, staining her black pants with her own arousal, "is this your way of making it up f'me? for making you number one again?"

"mhm," you're too concentrated to use your words when you're making her underwear to the side, cursing under your breath about how her cute outfit does nothing but get in the way, it makes ellie chuckle at your lack of patience even when she's already overwhelmed by your intoxicating touch as she holds you by the arm afraid you'll slip away.

"you've always been the number one" she manages to say when you're rubbing on her clit, when you're touching her as a reward she deserves more than ever — "you know that. you've always been the best."

she's feeding on your ego and it's so damn rewarding, so damn good. makes your skin shiver when ellie's riding your fingers, when the chain on around her neck catches your attention and you're using the jewelry to choke her, have total control and just enough force to wrap the silver around your fist there in your free hand and pull sufficient to make her gasp.

"what else?" you ask, drunk on her words "what else you've been keeping from me? you were salivating for me like this all semester?"

her cheeks finally acquire the most intense shade of red you've ever seen, spreading against her freckles, going down her neck, and you'd like to tease her about her reaction, make fun of her when she's so lame about you, so given to whatever you ask.

and ellie's puzzled at this point cause when she cums all over your hand? you've barely fucked her with a couple of fingers, stretching her cunt patiently as she does nothing more than whine until you came across that nice spot she loves, the very same that makes her body shake in not nearly enough minutes.

is she blushing at the lack of oxygen when you're choking her with the necklace she loves? or is it thanks to the force of the orgasm that got her all flustered and shy?

"did you just cum?" you ask almost not believing it, brows furrowed, still hungry for more "hell williams. get up. we're going again i'm not really done with you."

damn right you're number one, was there ever any doubt?

[levigarden999]

part 2 ♡ dumb!bakugo x reader

part 1 here ʚଓ theme : bakugo is a cute nervous wreck around u ⋆˙⟡

you had been playing this addictive, sweet little game with bakugo for weeks now.

no matter how confident or arrogant the stubborn boy was, somehow around you he lost all of his confidence. of course, he tried to act the exact same way he had always acted towards you – rude, smug and most of all just someone who was above you. however, bakugo was sure he had lost his mind. he just couldn’t be rude to you anymore and he didn’t understand why.

bakugo hated how weak and pathetic he had became. he couldn’t understand why he was suddenly so… soft? everytime you talked to him, even looked at him, his mind just went blank. bakugo felt his cheeks heating up to the point even his ears were burning – and by the way you smirked, he knew you noticed that as well.

bakugo was embarrassed. almost humiliated. as if you wanted to make him seem weak on purpose!

of course, you didn’t want that. you just enjoyed teasing bakugo now since you were pretty sure he was catching feelings for you as well. ever since you realized he wasn’t as oblivious as before, you gained confidence to approach him properly.

”hey, kats” you tapped his shoulder while walking through the hallway. an innocent smile was plastered on your face, your eyes staring up at him as if you had no idea about the effect you had on him.

he nearly flinched at your touch and with a quick movement turned to look at you. there he was again – the blood rushing to his face and making his cheeks flush with that pretty pink. you found him adorable.

”what do you want?” he scowled and pressed his lips together. he had his hands shoved deep in his pockets, but you could notice how nervously his fingers were fidgeting in both of his pockets. how could someone even be that obvious?

”you wanna come to my place tomorrow? i need some help with my quirk and since you’re so strong, i wondered if…. if you’d like to give me some advice on how to be a better fighter” you clasped your hands behind your back, the same sweet, soft smile on your pretty lips.

bakugo blinked one, two, three times, and his mouth opened a little from surprise. he once again felt his heart pounding against his chest as he stared down at you, those pretty eyes looking so wide and hopeful.

”huh? me? you want me to help you?” he asked with that raspy and bewildered tone. bakugo couldn’t understand why you, a strong hero, would need his help.

”mm-hm” you nodded and smiled wider.

he looked so cute like this, those usually so sharp and straight up angry eyes now softened and widened. you wanted to just grab him by his face and kiss those stupid cheeks and cling to him like a baby monkey.  but that would come later, you had to lock in for now.

”i- uh-” he scratched his disheveled hair, his voice lower and suddenly uncertain. ”i don’t usually help people, like, ever. but i mean, if you insist, i guess i can try. but you better listen and not be a fucking brat” he mumbled almost reluctantly, his eyes drifting somewhere else from you. he didn’t want to see the look on your face now since he had given in.

”thanks, kats! you’re the best!” you exclaimed. for a second you almost pulled him into a hug, but then you remembered, it was bakugo after all. no matter how in love bakugo would be with someone, i knew he wasn’t the type of person who would appreciate sudden hugs or affection. especially in such a public place, you wanted to respect the awkward boy’s boundaries.

”what ever” he grumbled and shoved his hand back in his pocket. he looked down and frowned, a small pout on his surprisingly plump lips. as if he was disappointed in himself by giving in to your wish. 

you chuckled. ”okay, see you tomorrow, i’ll find ya after school” you said casually and smiled while waving a goodbye. you walked off and bakugo was left there, wondering his life decisions. what the hell had gotten into him? katsuki bakugo was suddenly doing things he would never do (helping people) for a GIRL he didn’t even know that well.

[azzifuddfanpage]

Azzi’s shower breaks so paige tries to take a look at it and fix it but tells her she should probably just call a plumber and she can use hers until it’s fixed. What paige didn’t anticipate was running into azzi, fresh out of the shower with wet hair and a towel, and she is seemingly very okay with it…

broken pipes

note: lowkey thinking about coming out of retirement so keep the requests coming. Sorry it’s been so long 😭 also sorry this is kinda horrible I was so distracted while writing this

word count: 1.5k

————

“Paige? I need help.” Azzi shouts from a few rooms away. 

Paige barely hears her over the sound of the guns blazing in the background of her video game. After the second time Azzi’s voice called out, she very reluctantly pulled off her headset watching her character get gunned down unattended. 

Paige sighed and turned her head towards the younger girls voice. 

As much as she hated to admit it, no matter what she was doing she would always drop everything for Azzi. I mean what that’s what being best friends is for… right?

In all honesty, paige, though she would deny it to anyone who even mentioned it, was 100 percent in love with Azzi. There was no doubt about it, anyone who had eyes could tell, their teammates, their families, even coach had begun to pick up on it, the way paige looked at Azzi like she was the sun in every room. 

“Ya? Watchu need Az” paige said from her rather comfy spot on the couch. 

“The water stopped coming out in the shower!” Azzi shouted back, her voice muffled by the door. 

Paige huffed and stood up from the couch and made her way over to the door. 

“I mean I can try and look at it, but you might wanna call a plumber.” Paige said through the bathroom door. 

“Ugh I didn’t get to finish washing my hair.” Azzi whines. Paige can’t help the soft smile that forms on her cheeks as she could hear the pout in Azzi’s voice. 

“I’m sorry Az you wanna finish in mine?” 

She could hear Azzi thinking through the door, she could almost see the way she cocked her head, and the way her forehead scrunched as she came up with a plan. 

“I guess so, but can u call the plumber for me?” 

“Pleasseee” Azzi begged.

Paige let out a breathy laugh, she knew that Azzi would do anything to be antisocial, so when given the opportunity paige made calls for her, even ordered for her at restaurants, she new Azzi was more than capable, but part of her liked getting to treat her like the princess she was. 

“Alright princess fine.” Paige mocked, a grin forming on her face as she stepped back a bit so Azzi could leave.

When the door to the bathroom swung open, steam escaped and the smell of lavender body wash swarmed paige’s senses. 

Her eyes found Azzi immediately, her jaw clenched as she noticed the clothing, or lack thereof, that Azzi was in. A towel, a small white towel that contrasted with the warm milky chocolate of her skin. 

Her breath hitched as she watched a drop of water slide down her chest and slide beneath the towel. 

Before she realized what she was doing Azzi let out a slight cough. Paiges eyes immediately froze as she brought her attention back to the present. 

“Like what u see paige?” Azzi asked with a smirk as she stepped closer to her. Paige felt her chest tighten and could feel the blush heating her cheeks. 

“Huh- i- uh- “ paige stuttered searching Azzi’s face for something to say. 

“Erm what did you say about the uhm shower? It’s broken?” Paige stumbled over her words but finally managed to recover that small sense of self awareness as her eyes stayed glued on a flaking piece of paint on the wall. 

For paige’s sake, thankfully Azzi didn’t continue to tease her about her obvious lack of conspicuousness when it came to ogling over Azzi’s minimally clothed body. 

Paige could feel a soft warm hand brush her shoulder gently. “Ya wanna just see if u can fix it? I know ur good at stuff like that.” Paige's whole body tensed as her eyes finally looked up. Azzi was already walking away and in the direction of paige's bathroom.

 Paige just stood there unable to move watching as Azzi walked away. She shook her head trying to snap herself back into reality once she realized she was literally staring at a closed door. 

————

Azzi, though she would deny it to everyone who even looked at her funny after they saw her and paige’s “strange” friendship, was in love with paige, and had been since she was 16. The minute she saw her on team USA. 

At first Azzi tried to stuff down her feelings, she had watched paige with other girls before, supported from the sideline as she flirted, she had always thought her feelings were one sided, but for the past couple months things had begun to change. 

Azzi couldn’t quite put her finger on it, maybe she had finally just opened her eyes a little more, but she started to see things in the way Paige looked at her. 

When Azzi was across Ted’s, leaning up against the bar talking to a guy or girl, she could suddenly feel paige’s eyes boring holes into the back of her neck, she started to notice the way anytime someone got a too close to her, laughed a little to loud, brushed their arm up against her in a way that was anything more than friendly, Azzi found paige appearing at her side and wrapping an arm around her shoulder. 

Eventually Azzi stopped going up to the bar at all, they blamed it on the drinks- the way that they would sit- thighs pressed together, hands brushing each other. It was a sort of unspoken connection between the two. But Azzi new it was just the start of something, paige was just to scared to see it.

 Azzi smirked to herself as she turned on paige’s shower. If paige wasn’t going to be the one to cross the unspoken line first, well then I guess Azzi would. 

————

After a couple of failed attempts Paige finally managed to get the shower to work again. 

Paige smiled confidently to herself as she shut the cabinet. 

She briskly walked back to her own bathroom to tell Azzi the good news- a sense of pride radiating off of her at her accomplishment. 

“Hey Azzi, I fixed it, u wouldn’t believe it I literally just had to tighten the pipe!” Paige said a smile beaming on her face. 

Azzi smiled from the other side of the door, she could hear how proud paige was- and as a good best friend she wasn’t about to ruin her high. So she did what any good friend would do…

“Oh that’s awesome paige! I knew u were the one to ask- hey do u uhm- think u could help me with something else.” Azzi asked, her voice sounding a little smaller as she finished her sentence.

“Course what’s up?” Paige said immediately. 

Azzi was silent for a minute before she said, “Can u come in here.” 

Paige opened the door a bit confused.

Her eyes found Azzi’s immediately, Azzi didn’t say anything, she just walked over and reached to lock the bathroom door. 

“I need help paige.” Azzi said with a smirk. 

“U think u can help me. Did so good already.” Azzi said her lips brushing paige’s neck as she whispered into her ear. 

Paige felt goosebumps spread along her neck from where Azzi’s breathe had lingered. 

Azzi leaned back trying to silently judge paige’s reaction from the way her face looked. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was open a little, and when she opened them, there was nothing but pure love in them as she leaned in and connected their lips. 

It was a kiss of passion, and years of lost time, paige walked her backwards until her back was up against the wall of the shower, their lips meshing together methodically. Azzi sighed into paige’s mouth as she felt her tongue slide against her own. 

When they finally pulled apart, a little breathless, Paige just shook her head in amusement.

“Took you long enough.” Paige said. 

Azzi smacked her teasingly, “at least I finally did something.” Azzi said. 

Paige cocked her eyebrow. “So what was it u needed help with.” Paige said with a smirk, letting her eyes scan down Azzi’s body that was covered only by a small towel. 

Azzi matched her energy leaning back in, pulling her in by her shirt so she could feel paige’s breath on her lips. 

Without saying anything Azzi kept her eyes on paige’s lips and let her towel drop to her ankles. Paige’s eyes stayed on Azzi’s. 

“U sure pretty” paige whispered her hand falling lower on Azzi’s waist. 

Azzi said nothing, just let herself begin to strip off paige’s clothes, telling her to lift her arms so she could rip off her t shirt and sports bra, so they were both completely bare. 

“How bout you show me how well this shower works huh?” Azzi whispers against paige’s lips. 

“Say less.” Paige says connecting their lips again and turning the shower on before finally making up for all the lost years. 

[idkwhylou]

Gone, again pt.2

Summary : Since the fight you had with Bob, you'd been distant, harsh with everyone, and trying to act like nothing’s wrong. Bob avoids you completely, which hurts more than you expected. And as if it was useful, a joke from Hangman exposes the tension between you two in front of others. But thankfully, Phoenix is there to help you out.

Bob Floyd x f!reader/pilot!reader

Warnings : lack of communication, angst, conflicted feelings, heavy past (men are shit except Bob that's it), secret relationship, Bagman being... well a dick, emotional unavailability, fling, italics (again sorry)

Words : 5,5K

A/N : I'm pretty busy but tried to wrote you as quick as possible a second part, sorry there's not a lot of Bob but it seemed important to write all this. Sorry for the mistakes didn’t read before posting !!!

+ your call sign is "Grumpy"

Bob's masterlist | previous part | next part

»» ─── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─── ««

You hadn’t slept. Not really. You’d laid there the night after the fight, staring at your ceiling like it owed you something— an answer, a justification, maybe even a punishment. But all you got was silence and the echo of your own words. You'd watched his face fall in real time, watched the soft open trust in his eyes shutter like a door you slammed shut yourself. You hadn’t meant to hurt him. But you had. And you hadn’t stopped. Yet, you told yourself, this was for the best. If he hated you, he wouldn’t come back. If he stayed away, he’d be safe from everything wrong with you.

That lie had been good enough to get you out the door, but it wasn’t enough to help you sleep.

The hallway lights buzzed faintly as you walked, casting long shadows that trailed behind you like guilt. Your boots struck the floor with military precision, but the sound was too loud in the sterile quiet; like an accusation. You were early. Not because of duty or discipline. But because home didn’t feel like home anymore, and the silence scraped against your skin until you couldn’t breathe. So you left, uniform flawless, expression locked in that unreadable mask. 

But inside ? Inside was war.

No blood or bombs, just the slow, suffocating kind. Regret was the shrapnel, and shame the smoke in your lungs. You couldn’t stop replaying the fight: the way his voice had cracked, the way he didn’t fight back, just stood there and took it like he thought he deserved it. Like he'd already decided you were worth breaking for.

You didn’t look up when you entered the hangar. You didn’t have to. The sounds were all the same: pilots laughing too loud, boots scuffing, someone shouting across the space about last night’s game. 

Normal. 

Ordinary.

Like nothing had happened. Like the world hadn’t tilted sideways three nights ago when you’d walked out of Bob Floyd’s apartment and left pieces of yourself on his floor.

And then you saw him.

He stood with Nat, turning his dog tags over in his hand like they were some kind of anchor. Something solid in the middle of the storm you’d both left behind. Phoenix nudged him about something. You couldn’t hear what, and didn’t need to actually. But, he gave her that small smile, the kind he always saved for when he didn’t really want to talk.

It wasn’t the soft-lipped one he saved for the rare nights you let yourself fall asleep on his chest. It wasn’t even the tired one he gave when he knew you were picking a fight just to push him away, but he stayed anyway. He didn’t look over. Didn’t glance. Not even once. You stood there for a moment too long, hoping for something. Maybe an eye contact, maybe a flicker of recognition. A signal that you still lived somewhere in his mind. 

But nothing came. 

You told yourself it was a good thing. This is what you wanted. A clean break. No messy explanations, no apologies that could be picked apart and never quite stitched back together. But the air felt thinner now. Like his silence was pulling it out of the room. You hadn’t expected that. Not the absence, or the indifference. 

Anyway, in the end, that's what you imposed on him from the start. One look was already too much for you when you were at work, yet you were desperately looking for his right now. You could’ve handle anger, hell you’d earned it. But this ? This hollow nothing ? It unspooled something inside you. But that’s what you’d done to him from the very beginning— drawn a line he wasn’t allowed to cross, rules he never agreed to but followed anyway, just to stay close. You’d set boundaries with your silence, with your eyes that wouldn’t meet his when the uniform was on. One glance from him used to unravel you, even when you pretended it didn’t. 

And now ?

Now, you were scanning the hangar like a ghost desperate for warmth, aching for a single look— a flicker of connection— from the very eyes you used to avoid. You’d built the distance, brick by brick. And now you were suffocating in the house you trapped yourself in.

How pathetic, you thought.

You turned on your heels before he could notice you staring. But you knew, deep down, he hadn’t even tried to. You weren’t a person to him right now. Just another uniform in the room, a background noise. Your heart thudded like it was angry with you. And maybe it was. Because you’d survived worse things than heartbreak, if you call it that. You'd walked through fire before. But “heartbreak” wasn’t fire, it was ice— slow and suffocating. 

The rest of the day blurred, like someone had smeared your life into a series of grays. You went through your checklists, nodded through briefings, your voice never cracked, not once. You answered clearly, sharply, like nothing inside you was fraying thread by thread.

You were still Grumpy. Sharp. Efficient. Untouchable.

They didn’t know how bitterly ironic it felt. They thought it was just your vibe— gruff, no-nonsense, all business. But Bob had seen past it. He was the only one who’d ever asked what was underneath all that armor. And you’d hated him for it, in the way people hate the ones who get too close. The way people destroy what they think they don’t deserve.

So you buried yourself in the day, in routine, in protocol. Because if your hands were busy and your voice steady, no one would ask if you were okay.

And they didn’t.

So, you continued to pretend as the days went by. 

Just another room. Another debriefing with voices that droned like they meant something. Another day where Bob sat two rows ahead of you, shoulders straight, jaw set, posture immaculate. As if nothing had ever touched him out of uniform. As if you hadn’t. 

And you didn’t care. You kept telling yourself that, over and over again, until the words lost meaning and turned into noise. You kept your eyes forward, your hands steady, breath measured. You didn’t flinch when he shifted in his chair, even though your body noticed before your mind did, the same way it always had. 

You were trained for turbulence, controlled detachment. But not for this. 

He didn’t look back. Not once. And that, shouldn’t have mattered. 

You told yourself that, repeated it like prayer, or you should say punishment, as you scribbled notes you weren’t really hearing. The words blurred on the page, the flight plan in front of you nothing but a blur of numbers and headings—useless compared to the image burned behind your eyes; his hands brushing yours on that stupid kitchen counter. The soft smile he gave you when he thought you weren’t watching. The way he checked in with you without a single word, just a glance, a flick of those blue eyes that saw too much but never judged. You swear you could leave entire lifetimes in those looks.

But now ? Now he didn’t even glance. 

Fuck. 

You shouldn’t care. You never cared before and that’s how you kept the walls up—pretending you didn’t notice the way he looked at you like you were something worth staying for. You were good at that, back then. Looking through him. Letting the moments pass like they didn’t matter. Like he didn’t matter.

You needed to pull yourself together and fast. Because this—whatever this was—had no place in this room, in this version of you that still had something to prove. But you couldn’t stop scanning for him, couldn’t stop waiting for a glance that never came. 

Suddenly it hit you, what made it worse. He wasn’t angry. Anger would’ve been so fucking easier. It was sharp, loud and visible. It would’ve given you something to push back against, something to fight. You could’ve handled yelling, a cold shoulder, even a snide remark. But Bob had gone still. A quiet withdrawal, a stillness that gutted you because it meant he’d stopped reaching.

You told yourself it didn’t touch you. Not really. Not in a way that mattered. But your throat was tight, your pulse too fast, and your pen shook in your hand for half a second too long. And deep down, you knew— it mattered more than anything else in the room.

But when maverick mentioned Phoenix and Bob running the demo flyby next weekend, something twisted in your gut. Bob barely nodded in acknowledgment, the way he didn't offer his usual thoughtful follow-up questions or glance toward you like he used to—like you were just another name on the board, not the person he used to have in his bed almost every weekend. 

Usually, he’d risk it, even in front of the others. A quick look, just long enough to say I see you. Just long enough to make your chest tighten and your defenses rise. You’d give him that look back, the one with the furrowed brows and the warning written in your eyes, like he was walking too close to a landmine he didn’t know existed, or letting him know that he was becoming suspicious. You, setting the boundaries. Him, toeing the line without ever crossing it.

Yet his head hadn't moved an inch. 

Your pen faltered in your hand, the ink stuttering mid-word as your focus slipped. The last words of the briefing faded into the background static, the kind of white noise that filled your head when you were trying too hard to seem unaffected. People stood, papers rustled, chairs scarped, the usual end-of-meeting clutter. 

But you didn’t moved. 

Not until Phoenix walked past you, giving a short nod you barely returned, then clapped Bob on the shoulder and turned to leave. You looked up just in time to see him walk out. And somehow, that made your memory sharper. That used to be the moment he waited, not in a big gesture way. He never made a show of it but he lingered; let the others leave first to make sure you weren’t walking out alone. Sometimes he offered a word or two but most times he just walked beside you, hands in his pockets, matching your pace like it was effortless and smile at you.

There was no presence at your shoulder today, just the soft thud of boots on tile and the closing of a door that didn’t wait for you. Your chest tightened, breath snagging on the silence he left behind. And for a moment, you didn’t know how to move. You stood slower than you meant to, like your body was trying to buy time you didn’t have. Maybe you were hoping he'd forgotten something. That he’d come back through the door and glance your way. Even just briefly.

But he didn’t. And you knew he hadn’t forgotten a damn thing.

You told yourself you shouldn’t expect anything. Not a word, not a look. Certainly not some dramatic goodbye. But still, somewhere deep in the part of you that refused to quiet down, you'd hoped for a hesitation. Just a beat. Something that said he was still carrying it. Still carrying you.

Instead, there was only that silence he wore so well ; calculated and cold and painfully polite. The same kind he used when he didn’t want anyone to see the storm behind his eyes. And you knew the difference.

God, you hated that you knew the difference.

You packed your things slowly, the muscle memory of movement dulling the sharp edges of what you felt. Your hands only shook once. Just once. Long enough to feel the tremor echo in your chest. When the room was empty, truly empty, you sat back down. Not because you had to. Because you needed a moment. A moment where no one would expect you to be fine. So you sat. Pretended the air didn’t feel heavier, pretended the door hadn’t closed behind him like a full stop, pretended your chest wasn’t aching for a look that never came.

Because it was fine. You were fine. You were always fine. And maybe, if you stayed still long enough, you could believe it again.

»» ─── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─── ««

The sun was low, casting long shadows over the tarmac, painting everything in that warm, late-afternoon gold that made even a place like this feel softer for a moment. You stood just outside the hangar, shoulder pressed against a rust-streaked metal post, its heat bleeding faintly your uniform. A bottle of lukewarm water hung loose in one hand, your phone in the other, screen dim, ad you were pretending to scroll but you hadn’t blinked in minutes.

Across the way, a cluster of squad members gathered in loose formation, laughing at something you hadn’t heard. Phoenix’s voice floated above the rest. And for a second, it almost made you feel like yourself again. Like you belonged in your own skin. Like the tension that had been threading its claws through your spine all day might loosen. 

But it didn’t. 

The locker room door opened. You didn’t hear it. You felt it. Like something on the air had changed. Bob stepped out into the light, half-zipped from his suit, flight gear hanging around his waist. His shirt clung to him in places—sweat and sun, a leftover of adrenaline. His hair was damp, curls pushed back in that careless way he always tried to tame them, thought they never stayed. He looked down at something in his hand—a checklist, probably.

He was alone.

And maybe you didn’t mean to look. Or maybe you absolutely did. Maybe some part of you had been waiting, hanging onto that buzzing thread of awareness that only snapped taut when he was near. Your gaze lifted to him, pulled by something primal. And then, so sudden it almost hurt, as if pulled by the same invisible cord, his eyes found yours.

For a second, the world stilled. The laughter in the background faded to a hum. The golden light turned sharper, slicing through every layer of armor you’d built between now and the last time you touched him. And he held your gaze.

There was no heat in his stare; no fire, no bitterness, no anger. Just… stillness. Something even sadder. You didn’t say a word and neither did he. He didn’t looked away in shame or glance at the ground like he used to when he was nervous. No, Bob looked at you like a man who had made his peace with something; who had let go. Then he turned and walked off, heading toward the edge of the base without a single hesitation. Back to his checklist. Back to whatever task he’d given himself to stay upright. His shoulders squared as he walked toward the squad, blending into the laughter without ever joining it.

And you stayed exactly where you were.

Because you didn’t know what hurt more : that he looked or that he let you go again, just as easily.

The ache that had been steadily building all day finally crept into your chest, threading through your ribs like ice. You pressed your thumb harder against the bottle in your hand, like that pressure could quiet what was happening inside you. Because it wasn’t rejection. It wasn’t heartbreak. It was something worse.

»» ─── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─── ««

You’d just finished running a systems check on your bird when Jake strolled over, arms crossed loosely over his chest, aviators perched like punctuation on a smug grin. His walk was all swagger, like he hadn’t a single heavy thought to carry—and if he did, he wore it like it was someone else’s problem. You didn’t even glance up.

You’d been like this for days. Not just quiet but mean; clipped responses, sharp edges, no room for small talk or even smiles. You’d brushed off Phoenix more than once, snapped at a junior tech for asking a routine question, and yesterday you’d straight-up ignored Payback when he offered you his last protein bar.  

The squad had given you space at first, assuming you were just tired, irritated, maybe had a bad flight or two. But that grace period had expired. Now, the silence that you carried didn’t just follow you—it dragged behind like a storm cloud. People moved around you like you might just explode in the second their gaze met yours. 

Your call sign had never fit you more, and you knew it. But Jake, of course, couldn’t resist poking the bear.

“Damn, Grumpy,” he called out, voice pitching just loud enough to cut across the clank and murmur of the hangar, “you’re grumpier than usual. What happened ? Bad sex or no sex ?”

The wrench in your hand paused mid-motion. Just a split second; barely a beat. 

You didn’t respond, you couldn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, you dropped your gaze back to the panel, jaw locked tight, even if the damage was already done. The conversations around the hangar shifted—everyone pretending not to listen a little harder. 

Hangman whistled under his breath. “Oof. That hit something.”

“Seresin,” Phoenix’s voice snapped like a whip from a few feet away, her checklist rolled in one hand, “try shutting your mouth before someone does it for you.”

He grinned but backed off with mock innocence, hands raised. “Hey, I’m just trying to diagnose the tension in this squad. It’s practically a safety issue.” Phoenix didn’t laugh. She didn’t even blink.

You turned your head quickly, brows furrowed. “Do you actually need something, Bagman ? Or are you just bored and terminally stupid ?”

He let out a mock gasp and clutched his chest. “Ouch. There she is. I missed you, sunshine.”

You stared, deadpan. “Keep pushing, and I’ll knock those knock-off aviators down your throat.”

He couldn’t help but grinned. “There’s the fire. But seriously, people are starting to take bets on whether you’re about to kill someone or cry in a broom closet.”

“Keep talking and I’ll make it both.”

Phoenix raised a brow. “You’re a pilot, not a therapist. Back off before she uses you to test the tensile strength of titanium.”

Hangman backed up a step, hands still up. “I was just saying—Grumpy’s not herself lately. Maybe she needs to, I don’t know… get laid ? I could help you with that part you know.” 

You didn’t even answer when he offered you a wink. Across the hangar, Bob had been reviewing a checklist with a tech, sleeves rolled up, grease on one hand. Now he was half-turned in your direction, gaze cutting across the space with quiet precision.

He was looking at you.

And the worst part ?

You fucking looked back.

Your spine tensed. Not visibly, but enough. Jake followed your line of sight and stopped dead. Then something clicked behind his eyes. You kept your eyes on the open panel in front of you like your life depended on it when you saw Hangman smirk. 

“Wait a second” 

“Seresin.”, Phoenix warned. She didn’t knew a thing, but she wasn’t stupid.

“Ohhh. Shit,” he said, low and grinning. “That explains so much.”

You turned your glare on him full-force. “Say another word, and I will end you in the parking lot.”

He raised both eyebrows. “Spicy. I like it.”

“Jake, seriously, shut up,” Nat hissed.

But he wasn’t looking at her anymore. His eyes were bouncing between you and Bob, clearly connecting dots he should’ve never been allowed near. “Y’all were—oh man. Who knew Bob had that kind of effect ?”

You dropped your wrench with a sharp clang, wiped your hands on a rag, and stepped forward until there were only a few inches between you and Jake.

“I swear to God,” you said, low and lethal, “if you say one more thing—”

“Okay, okay,” he backed up, hands raised. “Message received. Someone touched a nerve. I’ll just go… be charming somewhere else.”

As he slinked away, Phoenix sighed hard through her nose and turned to you. “He’s an idiot, but he’s not wrong. You’ve been… off.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered.

»» ─── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─── ««

The hangar smelled like oil and metal and heat—midday sweat and a dozen exhaust fans that couldn’t quite keep up. You were hunched over a checklist at the edge of the flight deck, jaw clenched, eyes unfocused. You weren’t really reading. You were waiting for the adrenaline to wear off.

But it didn’t.

It hadn’t in days.

You didn’t hear Phoenix approach. Of course not—she was too good for that. You only noticed her when the shadow stretched beside yours on the concrete, silent and still.

“Hey, Grumpy.” You flinched slightly, not enough to give her the satisfaction.

You didn’t look up anyway, “Phoenix.”

She came to stand beside you, not speaking at first, just watching; weighing you like a target she wasn’t sure if she wanted to take down or pull in.

“You and Bob,” she said flatly, crossing her arms over her chest. “What happened ?”

You blinked once, twice. “Excuse me ?”

“You heard me.”

“I didn’t realize his personal life was suddenly your jurisdiction.”

“Cut the bullshits will you.” She snapped quickly, watching you with that same unblinking pilot's stare—half curious, half like she was dissecting you.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“It is,” she said, voice flattening. “When you’re planning to kill about half the team, without counting Hangman, of course.” She took a step closer and you stiffened.

You glanced away. “He’ll be fine.”

“Probably, but right now Bob is not fine tho,” she said, voice tight. “And don’t pretend you don’t know why.”

You tried to scoff, tried to play it off. “People go through shit.”

Phoenix stepped in front of you, blocking your view. Her expression was unreadable, but her voice had an edge to it now. “Sure. But Bob doesn’t just go through things—he carries them.” 

Your grip on the clipboard tightened and swallowed hard before speaking again, “He’ll move on.”

Her voice wasn’t angry. It was steady, disappointed. Phoenix tilted her head. “That’s what you think this is ? That he’s weak for giving a damn about you ?”

You froze. You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Because she was getting too close to the truth—and you didn’t have the armor for it today.

“You’ve been colder than usual, y/n. More shut off. Like you're trying to piss everyone off just enough so they’ll stop asking questions.”

You clicked your pen once, just for something to do. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

“You didn’t have to.” She stepped in front of you fully now, forcing your eyes up to meet hers. “Listen, I don’t know what the hell happened between you two. But I do know Bob. And I know that whatever it was, he didn’t deserve to get left with the fallout alone.”

You flinched again—this time more visible. Phoenix almost never raised her voice. “Don’t do that,” she said, quieter now. “Don’t act like pushing him away was some noble sacrifice. If you’re scared ? Fine. If you’ve been hurt before ? I get it. But don’t you dare pretend like he meant nothing just because you can’t deal with what he meant.”

The silence after that was thick and cruel. You bit the inside of your cheek until it stung. “He mentioned someone,” Phoenix added softly, a knife under velvet. “A girl. Wouldn’t say much, but the way he said it… it hurt just to watch. And when I see how you reacted with Seresin, I can't help but think that girl is you.”

Your stomach twisted.

“So I’m going to ask you this just one time, and I want you to be honest with me. Was it you ?”

Your eyes flickered to hers—and for once, you had no comeback. No sarcasm. Just the look of someone who’d been found out. Phoenix’s gaze softened, just a little. “Listen,” she said, stepping back. “Whatever happened, you’ve got a chance to fix it. Not tomorrow. Not next month. But now.”

You snapped, “I’m not what he needs.”

“No,” Phoenix said quietly. “You’re what he wants. But you’re so wrapped up in what broke you that you won’t even let him try.” The words landed like a gut punch. You masked it poorly. You opened your mouth, something cruel and self-protective on your tongue, but she didn’t stop. “You just got scared,” she said, and her tone didn’t even hold judgment. 

You laughed bitterly. “You think I wanted this ?”

“I think you wanted to feel nothing more than you wanted to feel safe,” she replied, without blinking. 

A long silence stretched between you. You turned away slowly, arms folding across your chest, tight and tense as you exhaled shakily, “Well, he’s not my hero.”

“Did he try to be ?” You froze. Phoenix took a half-step closer. “Did it piss you off ? That he was gentle when you expected rough ?”

Your throat tightened. Bob would never say a thing about that, how could she be so close. You didn’t respond. “Because I know Bob,” she continued. “And he didn’t try to fix you. He tried to love you. And you punished him for it.” That landed hard. You bit the inside of your cheek, suddenly furious at yourself for letting her get under your skin.

You couldn't stand the sound of her voice anymore. Who did she seriously think she was ? Without saying a word, you turned on your heels and walked out the back door of the hangar, not wanting to see her again. You groaned and slammed the door harder than necessary. You stormed inside, dropping your clipboard on the metal table with a sharp clang. A few heads turned. You didn’t care. Your jaw was clenched so tight your teeth ached. The walls felt like they were closing in— too narrow, too bright, too full of people who didn’t know what the hell they were talking about.

Phoenix didn’t know anything.

Except she did. Fuck. 

And that’s what made you furious.

You kicked the bottom of a locker, hard. It rattled, the echo louder than expected. A low murmur of voices quieted ans someone coughed awkwardly. You turned to the sink and splashed water on your face, trying to cool the heat rising up your neck. It didn’t help. It was like your blood had been replaced with gasoline and Phoenix had lit the match. Her words still clung to you, sticky and sharp.

“Fuck you,” you muttered under your breath, not even sure if it was directed at her, Bob, or the mirror above the sink. Maybe all three. You gripped the edge of the counter so tightly your knuckles paled. Anger swirled with guilt and shame until it was impossible to tell one from the other. You weren’t crying—not even close—but there was a sting behind your eyes that felt too much like loss.

He was your thing.

Yours to mess up. Yours to hide. Yours to leave.

So what gave Phoenix the right to pull it into the open ? What gave her the right to speak like Bob was some broken-winged bird you’d crushed out of cruelty ? She didn’t know how hard it was to be held like that. To be looked at like you were more than skin and sharp edges. To be see—fully, gently—and not know what the hell to do with it. Bob had looked at you like that.

And now he didn’t.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, hating the version of you that pushed him away. Hating how much your chest ached at the thought that maybe he wouldn’t look at you like that again. You slammed the water tap off and grabbed a paper towel, rough against your skin.

“No one asked him to save me,” you hissed under your breath.

But maybe… maybe you had hoped he would. And now ? You had no one to blame but yourself.

The door clicked shut behind her. You didn’t bother turning around. You were still facing the counter, staring at the cracked ceramic mug in the drying rack like it held the answers to everything. She stood there in silence. No sharp comment, no smugness; just the faint shift of her weight as she leaned against the door.

“I didn’t come to fight,” Phoenix said finally, voice low so others wouldn’t hear, even if everyone in the room seemed interested. “I just… couldn’t leave it like that.”

You gripped the edge of the sink until your knuckles whitened. “Should’ve.”

She stepped forward, slow like she was approaching a wounded animal. “I know it’s not my business, but I’ve also never seen you like this. You’re meaner. You haven’t said more than two words to anyone in two weeks.” You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a breath that felt like it dragged your lungs with it. “You’re not okay. And Bob sure as hell isn’t either.”

You turned away from the mirror, fists curled at your sides. “He’ll be fine.”

She gave a small laugh— not mocking, just tired. “That’s not the point,” she saif gently. “And I don’t think you really believe that.” Your chest tightened, but you didn’t speak. She wasn’t supposed to see you like that.

“I told him to stop playing the hero,” you muttered, bitter and ashamed. “Told him he didn’t have to fix me. That maybe he just wanted to feel important. To feel like someone finally saw him.” You closed your eyes, heart pounding. 

“Yeah, he told me.” 

You turned, eyes hard but glassy. She already knew too much, what was the point of keeping it all to yourself now ? Maybe she could help you in some way, so you went for it. “I said it to protect myself” you whispered, as if confessing to a crime. “Because if he’s just helping me to feel better about himself, the none of this is real. And if it’s not real, then it can’t hurt.” 

Phoenix met your gaze and didn’t flinch. She stepped closer, not to crowd you, just enough that you felt her warmth near you. “And did it work ? Did it hurt any less ?”

You laughed—short, bitter. “No. I feel like shit.”

The silence that followed made the truth louder. Something in you cracked open, not loud, not sudden, but quietly devastating. And before you could stop yourself, it started unraveling more and more.

“It’s always like that,” you said, staring at the floor. “Guys want me because I’m quiet. Easy. I don’t ask for much. I let them do what they want, because that’s what they expect. Be a good girl, take it, don’t complain. And when it’s done, they either call me cold or tell me they need someone ‘softer’.”

Phoenix didn’t interrupt.

You swallowed, jaw clenching. “So I learned to get ahead of it. To give them what they want before they ask. Be rough, be wild, act like I’m into it.” You sobbed without shedding a single tear. “That way, when they leave, it’s not because I wasn’t enough. It’s because I gave them everything and they still didn’t stay… Bob wasn’t supposed to be different.”

“But he was,” Phoenix said. There was a long silence. Then Phoenix said softly, “And that scared the hell out of you.” You exhaled like you’d been punched.

You turned around fully now, arms folded tightly across your chest like a shield you’d already lost. “I don’t know how to be loved by someone like him,” you confessed. “So I pushed him away. I hurt him. On purpose. Because it was easier than waiting for the moment he realized I’m not worth the trouble.” Phoenix blinked, then moved forward, placing her hands gently on your shoulders.

“What if I screw it up again ?” you asked, your voice small.

Phoenix stepped close, looked you right in the eye. “Then you try again. And again. Until he knows you’re not walking away this time.”

“I don’t know what to say to him,” you admitted.

Phoenix smiled gently. “Start with sorry. And maybe… ‘I was wrong.’ The rest will come naturally.”

You stood there for a long moment, heart pounding against your ribs like it wanted out. Then, finally, you exhaled and nodded, almost to yourself. You didn’t say anything else—you didn’t need to. You left the breakroom with a kind of nervous resolve, like your body had decided to move before your mind fully caught up. You passed by her, brushing against her shoulder, without giving her so much as a last glance. Phoenix watched you go, something soft and hopeful settling into her chest. Outside, the sky was starting to shift into gold. And for the first time in weeks, you stepped out of the shadow you’d wrapped yourself in.

»» ─── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─── ««

Bob’s masterlist | previous part | next part

Tag-list : @bluegardenn @kingsandqueens12345 @jasontoddswhitestreak @everythingismixed-up

[bluudsucka]

juna - bo chow x tomboy!reader

summary: you were never in touch with your feminine side, being raised by your father and older brothers you knew built a tough exterior. always opting for wearing male clothes and sporting a short haircut, but that was until you stopped at the new local convince store and met bo.

word count: 7k

warnings: smut, female reader, awkward/shy reader, slight mentions of race, loss of virginity, oral sex, noncanonical setting, unprotected sex, slight age gap (nothing too crazy reader is in her early twenties while bo is in his late 20s/early 30s), mentions of other characters

author's note: i had a lot of fun writing this! this is my longest fic i ever wrote so far, so thank you for reading and thank ya'll for the support! <3 (i was also listing to juna by clairo while writing bits of this haha)

“You make me wanna go dancin’, you make me wanna try on feminine, you make me wanna go buy a new dress, you make me wanna slip off a new dress...” 

The blistering summer sun nipped harshly at your skin, sweat from the heat and a hard day's work clung onto your chest and forehead while driving your father's rusty car, you'd hope you could pick up a breeze to cool you down. 

That of course didn't happen. 

He sent you into town with a shopping list of materials your household needed - and seeing as your mother passed last year - it was your duty as a woman to go out and shop for the boys, as your father so 'eloquently' put it. His remarks about your gender bothered you seeing as you were responsible in the cooking and cleaning while also being responsible with manual labor on the farm too. 

It was common to help your two older brothers fix run down and broken appliances such as rickety barn doors, leaky faucets, and wobbly banisters. Your hands were covered in cuts, scabs, and blisters from hammering away for hours. It didn't help that during those hours of work your brothers would tease you about not being 'girly' enough, jesting that you were more of a man than them both combined. It also didn't help that your family's budget was tight, meaning you had no choice but to wear their hand-me-downs.  

With a tired sigh you pulled yourself out of your thoughts, finally entering the town. The dusty and bustling streets was lively today despite the cruel heat wave that clung on the Mississippi air, breathing in the hot oxygen was like swallowing thick molasses.  

Parking the beat-up blue car, you adjusted the dingy green bandana that rested on the temples of your forehead, soft and short curls wrapping around the fabric. You tried your best to style it more feminine after your father cut way too short for your liking - but half of you still felt insecure about the hairstyle.  

Your eyes would gaze upon the ebony beauties that would waltz around town with frilly hair pieces and intricate styles, their long, gorgeous dresses flowing in the wind as men would stop and stare - you would stare too. Sometimes you would daydream about being in a moving picture playing the leading lady that had a lover who would do anything for you; give you flowers, love, and affection. The kind of guy who wouldn't be embarrassed about being tender on you. 

Slamming the car door after jumping out the sizzling leather seat of the car, your rough hands dug into the front pocket of your oversized denim overalls. Your eyes scanning the chicken scratch of a list your father wrote on stained paper, passing through the crowd, trying your best not to bump into anyone. 

nails (three 100 pack) 

gun oil 

chiken chicken feed 

red paint 

game meat 

horse fed feed 

fox repellaint repellent  

Walking towards the general store you normally shopped for your items; you noticed something strange; it had completely changed since you last stopped by. The store was bigger - more cleanly. Items within the store wouldn't be organized, as medicine would often be found next to the rat traps, but now just by gazing around the store everything was neatly placed in spots that...Made sense.  

You also noticed a man that you hadn't seen before, he was hunched over stacking cans of peas next to the tidy stack of caned carrots. Before any words could slip out of your lips he turned to face you, as if he could feel your eyes staring at the back of his head.  

He was handsome, strikingly so.  

His jet-black hair was neatly styled, and his lips held a light welcoming smile. He wore a crisp white button up with an onyx-colored vest on top, protecting the white shirt from the grime and dust. Rubbing his hands on his grey pants he lifted from the ground, rolling his shoulders and neck as he stood at his full height.  

"Welcome. What can I help ya' with?" He asked, a low southern drawl boomed from him, the sound of his voice made you jump. You didn't expect him to have such a sultry voice. Your warm skin on your cheeks began to tingle as your eyes quickly darted towards your muddy shoes. 

"U-Um, I'm just shoppin', sir. Thank you!" You rushed out, stumbling over your words as if you just learned how to talk an hour ago. His lips stretched into a kind and toothy smile, and he nodded his head, dark eyes not breaking contact with your frame. 

"Well, if you need somethin', lemme know."  

And with that he turned onto his heel and continued to work, you quickly scanned around the store looking for everything that you needed on the list. You wanted to leave the store as soon as possible, not because of the handsome man's actions - but because you felt as if you looked...Terrible. 

Your undershirt was a stained long sleeve, a once white fabric now faded into a dingy tan color due to dirt, sweat, and age. The shirt hung off your shoulders, it was your older brother's before it was handed down to you, the piece of clothing was basically swallowing your feminine frame. The muddy overalls that you sported was from your other brother, the second oldest, and it was big on you too.  

Wearing these clothes strangers would sometimes mistake you for a boy, which didn't bother you at all, but the thought of this attractive shopkeeper mistaking you for one sent a wave of anxiety through your body. Grabbing the gun oil, the multiple boxes of nails, and fox repellent your hands were already full.  

You looked around for a basket to hold your items, but none were found. You stood in the middle of the store your face twisting in confusion as you looked around one more time just to make sure you didn't overlook the baskets to hold your stuff, and the man noticed this. 

"Sorry, I just open this place up, last owner's baskets were full 'o holes. I had to toss 'em, won't get new ones till next week."  

"O-Oh, it's fine." 

"Here." he said as he strutted towards you, his arms stretching wide. Your eyes landed on his toned forearms, they looked strong and powerful, and you couldn't help but to gaze at the vein that pressed against his pale olive skin. Standing in front of you the stranger tilted his head in confusion, and you finally realized that he was signaling you to place the items into his arms. 

With a strained and awkward chuckle, you blurted out an apology and gave the items to him. 

"Don't worry, I'll place ya' things on the counter so you can shop around some more." He assured as his long legs strutted towards the register that rested on a mahogany table. He noticed you standing stock still as your fingers fidget between each other. Leaning on the wooden table with crossed arms he sent you another gorgeous smile your way.  

"You new to town?" He asked, his voice was alluring and warm, you could hear him talk all day if you could. 

"No, I live on the outskirts of town with my brothers and Pa, w-we got a farm..." You blurted out, the words rushed from your mouth like a running faucet, which made the man chuckle. 

"Hm, and they just let a pretty girl like yourself go shopping alone?" 

Your eyes widen like saucers and your already racing heart sped up even faster, it felt like you were moments away from a heart attack. You opened and closed your mouth in quick successions, as if you were a fish out of water. 

You were. 

You never heard a man refer to you as pretty. They called you strong, reliable, tough, hardworking - but never pretty. Noticing your anxiety rising he spoke again, this time more carefully. 

"My name's Bo Chow, I'm from around these parts but I just open this store few weeks ago," He then paused as if scanning his thoughts to find the right words to say to not scare you off. "You said your family has a farm? Ya'll got chickens and such? I'm lookin' into finding a stable source for eggs, got an ice box comin' in later today and I wanna stock up." 

"Oh, um. Yeah, we got chickens. Lots of 'em, mean bastards." You mumbled, spitting out a mild annoyance you had with the feathery animals, one of them bit you on the thumb this morning. 

Bo blurted out a laugh from your comment, his chuckles crashing into you like a wave, and it made you smile. With fidgeting fingers, you told him your name, which he repeated three times, each time breathier than the last. He told you that your name was beautiful - that it suited a beautiful girl like yourself. 

Bo noticed that you were on the shy side, so he toned down his flirty advances towards you, but he still let it be known that he found you attractive. Slowly you eased out of your shell and continued to shop, placing each item on the counter as words and laughter exchanged between you two. Completing your shopping list you paid for the items, Bo carefully bagged them into thick brown paper bags, his dark brown eyes trailing your face as he soaked in your beautiful features. 

It stunned him that such a pretty girl was so shy, it was if you were completely unaware of your beauty. With small smile you grabbed the paper bags and Bo reached for the horse feed that rested on the counter.  

"Lemme carry this out for you; it's pretty heavy." 

"No, n-no! It's fine I can make two trips." 

"Nonsense, what kind of man am I to let a lady carry all these bags by herself?" He replied as strong arms lifting the feed as if it weighed nothing, a rush of lust bloomed within your chest as thoughts of his arms holding you tight crept within your mind. But those thoughts were quickly replaced with embarrassment, and you avoided eye contact with the man as you both walked out of the store towards the car. 

Placing the bags in the passenger side of the vehicle Bo shot you a smile, which made you gaze at your shoes again, your boots kicking the dry dirt beneath your feet. Crossing his arms against his chest and without thinking he said: "I know some fella is really lucky to have you." 

"I-I ain't with no one, not like that." You whispered, biting your lip as you leaned against the hot car door, your eyes meeting his for only a split second before looking away. You had a boyfriend in the past, but the only thing you did with the man was kiss and hold hands, you weren't really attracted to him, and he was only with you for 'convenience' - according to him. So, it didn't hurt you none when he dumped you for another girl. 

But you did enjoy landing a right hook square against his jaw after that nasty breakup though.  

Just because he deserved it. 

"W-What about you? I mean, I'm not sayin' a fella is lucky to have you, unless there is--ain't nothin' wrong with that if there is--I mean--" 

"I'm divorced; my ex-wife works at the general store on the white side of town." Bo chuckled, cutting you off from your rambling. You whispered out a meek apology and silence soon followed. The muffle sounds of people's chattering, cars honking, and wheels racing on the dirt road eased your thumping heart a bit. With a sigh Bo tilted his head, his eyes traveling up and down your body as he tongued the inside of his cheek.  

"...I know some fellas who own a juke joint, just outta the way of town. They play some real good music there - and the catfish they serve is fresh, pipin' hot never cooked in stale grease, unlike the fish fry across the street." He said as he pointed his head towards the run-down restaurant that was packed to the brim with people. You giggled at his comment - he was right - despite the popularity of that place, their food was disgusting. With a pause his face twisted in deep thought, finding the next words that he truly wanted to say.  

"We should go there sometime - the juke joint," Bo casually said, his hands now tucked in the pockets of his pants. "Up to you, of course." He quickly added trying his best not to lay it on thick. Your body stiffed and you scrunched up your face in concern and without thinking you blurted out: "You ain't crazy, right?"  

Bo was a handsome man, the kind that you would daydream about as you hammered and worked your days away. It made no sense to you that such a gorgeous man like him would ask you out, he seemed like the type to be paired up with a woman who wore frilly dresses and expensive perfume.  

Not a woman in old, dirty hand-me-down male clothes.  

He shrugged his shoulders as an airy laugh escaped his lungs, you noticed that he laughed a lot. 

The sound of it was music to your ears.  

"Just think about it, okay?" He asked softy, which earned a nod from you. With one last smile he began to walk towards the store backwards, his chestnut-colored eyes not breaking contact with yours.  

"And make sure your brothers help you with movin' allat stuff."  

The drive back home was felt quicker than it actually was, your mind raced with thoughts of Bo. His soft smile, his strong muscular arms, his beautiful deep brown eyes, his thick southern twang with each word he spoke - even though you just met the man you were already falling for him, and you considered his invitation to the juke joint.  

Once pulling into the long dusty driveway of your home a quick realization set within you. 

How would you take him up on that offer? 

Driving back and forth from town wasn't manageable; your father's car drank up gas like it was nothing - and gasoline was expensive. You sighed at the missed opportunity to ask how communication would work between you two. With a lull of your head, your eyes landed on the grocery list that rested on top of the items you bought. Reaching for the stained paper your heart fluttered as you read the numbers out loud, his name scribbled on the bottom of it. 

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒── 

A few blistering weeks had passed and your relationship with Bo blossomed as you both spent hours talking on the phone, and you were starting to enjoy the tedious shopping trips your father would send you on - that meant you were able to see the shopkeeper in person. But when driving into town wasn't needed you settled on calling the man after finishing your chores.  

You learned that the Bo's family was from China, a long way from Mississippi. You would ask about the country and if it was any different from here, his deep voice would sigh and reminiscence about his homeland. His family moved here when he was only a small boy and stated that he lost his accent in exchanged for the Mississippi drawl from living here so long - but he still spoke perfect Mandarin.  

You noticed that his flirty persona would slip as he displayed a sillier side to him. Cursing and complaining about customers leaving messes around his store or local vendors who tried to rip him off, his soothing voice would slip into speaking his native tongue, the sound of those foreign words would caress your ears and make your heart flutter. You would ask him to teach you some words and phrases, which he gladly did.  

Most of them were curse words though.  

You would butcher the unfamiliar words with your southern accent, but he was patient with you as he chuckled out the proper pronunciation of those dirty words, praising you when you finally articulating them semi-perfectly.  

He would ask you about your day as well and you told him everything, down to the exact minute you woke up. He would let out a sharp whistle hearing all of the manual labor that you were responsible for - flirting with you about how you needed a break often saying things like: "Sounds like a hard day, you probably have knots in your shoulders - I could fix that, y'know." 

Which you would reply: "You givin' out massages now?" 

And in turn he would tut out a quick comeback along the lines of: "Only to those who deserves them. I've got magic hands...And a soft spot for women who pretend not to need them." 

You would choke and stumble over your words, quickly changing the subject towards something else. Tonight, you were on the phone with Bo, listing intensely at the story he told - your sore hands shooed your nosy brother away as he gave you a lopsided smile. You told your brothers about Bo, and they teased you relentlessly about him. 

"So, when am I gonna see you again?" Bo asked, making you bite your lip and shrug as if he could see you.  

"I don't know...Maybe soon?" You whispered you didn't want it to come out as a question, but it did, and you mentally kicked yourself for it. You remembered his offer to take you to this 'mysterious' juke joint, it sounded like fun. You love to dance even though you were self-conscious about doing it in front of people, often swaying your hips as you hummed a melody you heard on the radio while cooking or doing chores by your lonesome.  

"How...How 'bout we go that juke joint you were talkin' about? That sounds like fun." 

"Ah! Lil' miss busy body finally wanna come dance with me?" 

"Oh, haha," You sarcastically laughed, picking at the skin of your thumb. "How 'bout next weekend? Does Saturday work for you?" 

"Of course, I'm free Saturday..." He then paused and you could practically see the wide smile that clung onto his face.  

"It's a date, then?" 

"Y-Yeah, it's a date."  

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──  

Your fingers fidget and twist around each other, the crunching sound of rock and dirt beneath your feet grounded you somewhat, but your palms were already beginning to sweat. Passing through parked cars and couples grinding themselves onto each other, you finally made it to this aforementioned juke joint, the booming sound of music and shouting made a lump rise in your throat.  

Stepping towards the large open double doors sat a stocky man. He nodded and waved as people enter and exited the makeshift club - his head snapping forward as his eyes landed onto you. With a wide and friendly smile, he tilted his straw hat with thick fingers - lowering his head in reverence as he spoke. 

"Hello, missy. Ain't seen you around here before," His head rise again, making heavy eye contact with you. You figured that this large man was a bouncer, here to try and keep troublemakers out of the juke. "Word gets around, huh? Each weekend more and more people come - since it's your first time here I recommend trying the Irish whiskey. It got some kick to it, haha. All thanks to those twins, of course."  

"Y-Yes, will do. Thank you." You mumbled, your shy eyes looking down at your feet. The muddy boots that you wore everyday were replaced with emerald green heels, the shoes hurt your feet, but the sales lady reassured you that they'll break in quickly.  

Shuffling around the man you stumbled into the crowded club, your eyes scanning for Bo, but you couldn't find him anywhere. A lost and confused look plastered onto your face - you were starting to feel overwhelmed as second thoughts rushed through your mind. Deciding that you should just leave you quickly turned on your heel, but you bumped into a soft body, strong yet comforting arms steadied you. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" You repeated with a strained voice, shouting out apologies over the loud Blues that reverberated on the wooden walls. 

"It's okay, you alright?" A womanly voice calmly spoke. Your eyes were met with deep mahogany brown irises, her features were beautiful, welcoming. Yet an air of sternness and confidence oozed casually from her as she adjusted her dark blue dress. Her natural hair was done up neatly, framing her face in a way that only enhanced her beautiful features. You couldn't help but to gawk at this woman. Noticing this her smile only soften as she awaited your answer to her question. 

"Oh, um. Yea', I'm okay. Thank you," you choked out, your awkward eyes darting around the room as you peered into the dancing crowd. "Have you seen Bo around?" You added with a bite of your cherry red stained lips - for the first time you were wearing makeup. 

"So, you're her? He's gamblin' with that drunk 'ol fool in the back." She stated, giving you a friendly grin. She turned her head and stopped a man dead in his tracks as he gave her a look that was tinged in nothing but respect.  

"Yes, Annie?" The man asked. 

"Take her to Bo and them, would you?" The woman, now known as Annie, casually said which earned a nod from the man. You gave your thanks to Annie as she winked and disappeared into the crowd. You followed the man, pushing pass people dancing and drinking with apologies falling from your lips, bumping into them accidently. But most of them were either too drunk to care or too busy dancing to notice.  

"Damn, Bo. I thought you said you was good?" A commanding voice boomed, which followed by a chorus of laughter from multiple men. The music wasn't as loud within this hidden room, the muffled hymns were drowned out by lighters flicking, glass bottles clanking, and cocky chuckles coming from each man that huddled together around the small table.  

"I am, but I'm already known' that Slim is cheatin." Bo sighed in annoyance, a cigarette hanged limp between his plump lips as he tossed a card down on the table, stress pulling at his chiseled features and smoke plumed from his mouth with each word he spoke.  

"I ain't cheatin'." A man, who was much older, confidently stated as he took a long swig from his metal flask - licking his lips to taste the alcohol that slipped pass his golden capped teeth.  

"You is." Bo shot back as he took a drag from the cigarette, pulling it from his lips with an index and middle finger, and leisurely blew the smoke into the already thick hazy air.  

"No, I--" 

A sharp wolf whistle cut off the older man's defense, which cause the men to snap their heads towards your direction. The whistle came from the man standing, his hands reaching for the red brimmed hat that rested on his head and placed it over his chest, shielding his well-tailored suit.  

"Ain't you a pretty lil' thang?" He spoke as his dark brown irises slowly ran up and down your body, he was absolutely undressing you with his eyes. You wore a thin silky emerald color dress that loosely hung onto your body - but the soft fabric outlined and accentuated your curves. Your short hair was styled in finger waves, mimicking how women would wear their hair in the many magazines you had hidden away in your bedroom.  

With long mascara covered eyelashes you blinked awkwardly, turning your head to look behind you, confused if the man was talking to you. Bo looked at you with awe, he couldn't recognize you at first but looking deeper at your dolled up face he could see those same beautiful features he'd grown fond of.  

You looked amazing, like a movie star that jumped straight out of the silver screen. 

"Y-You talkin' to me?" You asked the man, pointing at yourself with your head tilting to the side, the dangling silver earing you wore had small green gems, the light catching the dark color - making the jewelry sparkle. The jewelry grazed the warm skin of your bare shoulder as you lulled your head back into its natural position.  

"My, my. And she's humble too," he laughed as he reached his hand out for yours. With sweaty and shaky palms, you placed your hand within the stranger's grasp, it seemed like he didn't care about your drenched soaked palm as he placed a kiss on your trembling hand, the feeling of his moustache lightly tickled your skin. "My name is Stack, baby." He said as he shot you a wide smile, showing off his golden capped teeth that shined under the ember light of the club. But before you could open your mouth Bo quickly cut into the conversation, swatting away the advances Stack was planning on making towards you.  

"Watch yourself - she ain't like that, Stack." Bo hissed tossing his cards on the table, quitting from the game which made Slim smile ear to ear from the easy victory.  

"Why you care, ain't you married?" Stack jested back, his voice dripping with charisma, sending a wink your way after finishing his sentence.  

"Divorced." Bo said curtly. 

Stack raised his hands up in a playful display of defeat, his face twisting in mischief as a chuckle fell from his plump lips.  

"My bad, Bo. I ain't know you like the sistas." Stack chuckled as he pulled the empty chair from the table, claiming his seat as nimble hands collected the scattered cards - preparing to shuffle them for the next game.  

"I ain't know you like 'em either." Bo replied, sitting up from his chair as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, stopping right at the elbows - his cigarette still hanging limply from his mouth.  

This statement earned a raspy roar of laughter from Slim as he clapped his hands together, the sound of his foot stomping made you jump a bit. Stack's once confident persona melted as he shot glares at Slim and Bo, which only made Slim laugh even harder.  

You were oblivious to their 'inside joke'.  

"Whew, you have fun you crazy kids," Slim sighed out, taking another swig from his flask. "And you: get outta ya feelings, boy. Shuffle them cards." The older man places a hard pat on Stack's shoulder, which only made him grunt in annoyance. 

"I think you had too much to drink, old man." Stack seethed as he quickly mixed up the cards in his hands.  

Putting the cigarette out in the ashtray Bo's striking features eased with happiness as he laid his eyes on you. Holding his arm out for you to grab onto, both of you exited the small gambling room - now out on the bustling dance floor. His eyes were trained onto your face as he pulled you closer towards him, the bloom of attraction and arousal tugged within Bo as he bit his lip. 

You were looking damn good tonight. 

"I see why you didn't want me to pick you up - you're somethin' else, you know that?" He smiled, the dimples of his cheeks deepening as you shrugged your shoulders at his words, your eyes gazing at him. He looked handsome as always, but tonight he looked dashing. Noticing his eyes that flicked towards your body, you took a step back to show him your full outfit. 

"You like my dress? I bought it earlier today - I wanted to wear somethin' new." You gushed out and with a twirl you showed him the back of your dress that exposed the bare skin of your back, but you didn't notice Bo's eyes landing straight on your ass that poked against the thin fabric. Sticking his thumb in his belt loop, he adjusted his pants - he really wanted to see what's under that dress - but alas, he wouldn't outwardly say that to you as his own worrying self-conscious crept in.  

Bo wasn't bashful nor shy when it came to intimacy and sex, he was open about his wants and desires. But you were the polar opposite, so he tried his best to keep those lustful thoughts about you to himself, toning the flirty banter down to a minimum. But that was becoming a challenge tonight with how sexy you looked, and it didn't help much that Stack's actions made him a tad bit jealous. 

Bo knew you desired him just as much, but he knows it'll take a while for that shell of yours to crack.  

Low strumming of guitar strings pulled your attention away from Bo, your eyes gazing at the makeshift stage ahead of you, watching a man that was around your age plucked the metal strings of the instrument. With a low hum you noticed the once lively dancefloor coupled up in pairs, while the singles made their way to the bar to fill up on drinks. With a thumb on his bottom lip Bo, smiled at your sudden ramped attention towards the slow music. 

"That's Preacher Boy, he's mighty fine at playin' that guitar," Bo walked forward towards the dance floor with your hand in his. Both your fingers interlocking with each other's. "Care to fancy me a dance?"  

You couldn't do anything but to excitedly nod, the butterflies in your stomach were becoming unbearable. With strong arms Bo held you flush against him, you could feel his lean body through his clothes - both of you swaying to the rhythm of the song. Tough hands rested on the small of your back, his calloused fingers resting dangerously close above your ass. 

You wouldn't mind it if he rested his hand there.  

With threaded fingers he guided your steps, you tripped over yourself for a bit - but you quickly found the rhythm again. Your head rest on his shoulder while he placed his on top of your head, the tender lyrics about love and not wanting to let go echoed through your mind, the lovesick song made your heart swell.  

Bo then pulls away from your body, but only for a bit - he twirled you around, making you giggle at the action and with skillful movements, he pressed your backside onto himself. His hands guided your hips against his and you could feel his growing bulge pressing against your backside. You shiver in delight at the feeling of him pressing against you, his lips also pressing against your ear as he sang along the lyrics - switching some of the words with Mandarin. He was singing the song directly to you. 

Your loins were on fire, and you tried the ease the ache between your legs by grinding yourself onto his stiffening member. Bo took quick noticed of this, his fingers pressing down on your hips as he steadies himself.  

Helping you grind yourself on him. 

Turning around to face him again you wrapped your arms over his shoulders, still pressing yourself firmly on his body. Your lips ghosting over his - he leaned forward in an attempt to close the sliver of space between your lips, but you pulled away with a slight grin that danced across your cherry red lips.  

"Do you think I'm pretty even when I don't look like...This all the time?" You asked him. Though you enjoyed dressing up and doing your make up - a part of you also found comfort in wearing clothes that weren't 'conventionally' for women. You were shy and sometimes you had some bouts of insecurity - but that was every woman. 

You hoped that Bo could understand that.  

"The moment I laid my eyes on you - when you came into my store - I knew then that I wanted you," he paused as his brown eyes stared into yours intensely, every word he spoke made you lose your breath. "You're more than pretty; you're beautiful - gorgeous. Doesn't matter what you got on."  

With quivering lips, you kissed him, Bo's lips were soft, and his kiss was steady as he guided your unskilled mouth against his - deepening the kiss even more. His warm hands trailed over the exposed skin of your back, the feeling of rough fingers made you spiral, and you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second. Bo could feel your wetness too - pressing his thigh in between your legs and against your aching core.  

You moaned into his mouth, and you held onto his shoulders for dear life, you needed to feel this man inside you - you were growing desperate to relieve yourself from the intense arousal that bubbled in your core. 

"C'mon, lemme take care of you, baby." Bo whispered.  

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒── 

Slipping away from the crowd, you and Bo found an empty room upstairs of the juke, away from prying eyes. The room was dusty, and the air was stale and thick - as if you both were the first people to enter in years. The slow love song that Preacher Boy sang was now replaced with loud, intense melodies and the once tender lyrics now oozed with raunchy double entendres.  

Pressing your back against the wall, Bo's nimble hands ran over your body, stroking and squeezing all of your curves as if his life depended on it - his hands stopping at your breast, cupping them gently through the fabric of your dress. His faced rested within the crook of your neck as his lips sucked at the exposed skin, slightly nipping you with his teeth. Your hands race through his black hair, the strands threading through your fingers as your nails softly scratched at his scalp. 

"You see what you do to me, girl?" He asked as he reached for your hand, placing it over his clothed bulge that strained against his pants. You bit your lip as your fingers rubbed against his hard member, his hips bucking into your hand as you pressed down on his dick.  

"I-I gotta tell you somethin'." 

"What is it, baby?" He asked in between fevered kisses on your neck. 

"I ain't never did this before." You sighed out breathlessly. Kissing and grinding wasn't intimidating to you - you've done that before. 

But sex, actual sex, was a whole different ballpark. You weren't 'saving' yourself for marriage or anything like that; you never had the opportunity to be with anyone sexually. Until now, of course. Bo stopped in his tracks and pulled away from your neck, his eyes that were filled with lust a second ago soften while his hands rested at your sides.  

"...You a virgin?" He asked, which made you whisper out a yes. His eyebrows knitted together as he stared down at you, still pressing himself against your heaving chest. "Sure you want this?" 

"Yea', I'm sure...I like you, Bo. A lot, I wanna do it," you paused - your eyes looking away from him and in attempt to try to break the rising tension from the realization of you never having sex before, you spoke again. "Just be patient with me." 

"I'll be gentle I promise, baby. It's just like dancin', follow my lead - I'll make sure you feel real good." Bo whispered as his hand caress your cheek, his thumb rubbing circles. Leaning in he kissed you again, but this kiss was different than the last - it was slow and gentle.  

You kissed him back and his tongue swipe at your bottom lip, asking for permission to deepen the kiss, and you let him. Both of your tongues danced in unison, the taste of cigarette smoke with the hint of peppermint lingered on your mouth with each kiss. His hands reached for the hem of your dress, pulling up the fabric exposing your bare thighs and thin cotton underwear.  

His hand rubbed your leg, stopping at the waistband of your panties, his finger tracing over the band and stopping at the wet spot of the fabric. Slowly his fingers pressed against your clothed clit, rubbing small yet firm circles on the sensitive bud, earning a shallow moan that escaped your chest.  

"Does it feel good, baby?" Bo asked as he continued rubbing your pussy through your panties. You groan out a breathy yes, encouraging him to keep going.  

And he did.  

Your hips bucked against his hand, while his free hand pinched at your right nipple with attentive fingers. The sharp feeling of his pinching sent a wave of pleasure towards your loins and your hands gripped onto his toned biceps. With skillful and experienced hands, he stuck his thumb within the waistband of your soaking underwear, slipping the fabric off your hips towards your already shaking knees, his fingers now rubbing against your exposed pussy.  

"Oh, Bo. T-That feels good." You whimpered as he continued his movements - now picking up speed, making you moan even louder.  

You were glad that the music was blaringly loud. 

"Fuck...You're already so wet." Bo muttered as his fingers swiped across your aching entrance. He was practically straining against his pants, but since this was your first time, he didn't want to rush. He remembered his first time having sex - it wasn't terrible, but it wasn't great either - even so he still looked back on that memory fondly. The feeling of reaching that level of ecstasy sticks to a person and he was honored to be able to help you achieve it. It was daunting knowing that he's your first, but it also lit a fire within him. 

He wanted nothing more but to pleasure you, to make sure that your first time is special. Trailing gentle kisses down your body Bo got on his knees, tugging the panties off of your legs as he did so. Your hands gripped onto the hem of your dress in a tight fist and your eyes followed his every movement. 

"I wanna taste you, baby. Can I taste you?" He asked desperately, his eyes looking up at you as if you were an angel in disguise - as if you were a work of art.  

You nodded your head, but he didn't move. 

"Use your words, sugar."  

"Y-Yes, you can taste me." choked out awkwardly, you never talked dirty to anyone before but the act of doing it only made you hornier. Bo smiled wide at your answer, placing a feather light kiss on your thigh and on your sensitive bud. The feeling of his lips on your pussy made you shiver in excitement and slowly he began to lick you.  

The tip of his tongue skillfully circled your clit, only stopping to drag it across your soaking pussy. He moaned against your core - savoring sweet taste of your juices that filled his mouth. You bucked your hips against his face, riding on his experienced tongue as he continued repeating his movements. 

Chanting out his name with a groan your hands ran through his hair, it took everything within you not to pull at his dark tresses - but the sensation of his tongue lapping up your pussy made your head spin. Working over your core Bo slowly slipped his middle finger inside of you, stopping at the second joint in case you couldn't take the feeling. To your surprise the feeling of his finger inside you didn't hurt; in fact, it felt amazing - it felt heavenly.  

Careful and slow he moved his hand, pressing the finger in and out of your pussy as his lips sucked at your swollen and sensitive clit. Lulling your head to the side you rocked your hips to match the pace of his hand, biting your lip as a wave of pleasure washed over you. Bo then added another finger which made you squeeze your thighs against the sides of his head, holding his head in place with a vice grip.  

His middle and ring finger worked your over your core, the digits now fully inside of you. Picking up the pace with his fingers your pussy, guttural moans turned into high pitched groans as your left hand scratched at the wall behind you. An unfamiliar yet intense feeling tingled at your core, and something within you desperately needed the feeling to be alleviated. It was as if Bo read your mind and his tongue swirled over your clit and within an instant a wave of euphoria crashed into you as a loud cry fell from your lips, your body shaking intensely like a leaf in the wind.  

You came. 

Bo's mouth pulled away from your dripping pussy, he didn't want to overwhelm you as his now slick fingers lightly stroked your tender button, easing you through your orgasm.  

"Just like that, baby. You got it...Good job, great job." He praised. Looking down at him Bo's chin and the collar of his shirt was soaked with your juices, and it slightly embarrassed you with just how wet you truly were. But that feeling of embarrassment quickly dissipated when he stood up again, his lips crashing into yours - kissing you with fever.  

You could taste yourself on his tongue, with shaky hands you locked your fingers together at the back of his head, deepening the kiss. Something about tasting you on his swollen lips made your pussy tingle with a need to be filled again. 

"Bo...I-I need you."  

"I need you too." He whispered back between kisses. Your hand reached for the buckle of his belt, fumbling over your own fingers as you tried to free him from his pants. Bo held your hands in his, guiding them in unbuckling the belt.  

Finally, being able to free himself from his belt, he led your hand in his pants. You could feel just how hard he was. His member was thick and heavy and feeling the warmth of it on the palm of your hand made your mouth water in the anticipation of him fucking you. Pulling his pants off his waist, Bo's dick sprung free.  

With strong hands he lifted you up from under your arms, making you gasp. Following his lead, you wrapped your legs around his hips as he pressed his lean body against yours, pressing you on the wall to steady yourself. Your sweaty forehead rested on his as you both watched him stroke himself, pumping his dick with his hand, precum making a natural lubricant.  

With cloudy eyes you watched Bo lining himself towards your aching core he slowly entered you, his head rested on your hot and sweat slicked shoulder and the feeling of his cock entering your tight pussy almost made the man topple over. He was stretching you out and the raw sting of pain mixed with pleasure crashed into you like a tidal wave, your nails clung onto Bo's shirt, scratching at his skin through the cotton fabric.  

"Shh, it's okay, I got you." Bo reassured as he paused the movement of his hips - resting his cock inside of you - allowing both of your bodies to adjust to each other. You were so tight, so warm, so wet. It felt like he'd just stumbled into heaven, and it took everything in him not to buck his hips until you were ready. With a nod of your head, you signaled him to continue, your tense muscles melted as he placed a long kiss on your jaw as he slowly began rocking his hips back and forth, fucking into you as softly as he could.  

High pitched grunts fell from your lips with each thrust he made, and his thumb rubbed small and supportive circles over the skin of your thighs that wrapped around his hips, grounding you and easing the tense muscles within your legs. Bo began chanting your name, telling you how good you felt, and asking you if he felt good inside you too.  

The pain of his cock inside of your once unexplored sex subsided and was now replaced with nothing but pleasure. You moaned against his plump lips as he groaned out curses in Mandarin at the sensation of your pussy squeezing around his member; his hips thrusting into you rapid but steady pace. 

"Bo, I think I'm almost..." 

"I'm almost there too." Bo mumbled as he rested his forehead onto yours and with a few more thrusts you felt the familiar feeling of a knot formed within your abdomen and with shaking legs your mouth hanged open slack as a silent scream pushed through your convulsing body - the high of reaching your orgasm made you hold Bo in a vice grip.  

He cursed in pleasure as his own orgasm crept up on him, backing away from your tight grip with strong arms he pulled himself out of you, pumping his cock within his hand until he reached his climax - coming in his hand as he rested his head on your shoulders, your eyes watching him stroke himself. The sounds of heavy breathing filled the air as your head spin from experiencing your second orgasm. 

Your sweaty body leaned against the wall and with a deep sigh Bo steadied his breathing, rolling his shoulders as your eyes met with his. You noticed a bit of blood that was in his hand and the odd sensation of slick clung on your inner thighs, putting two and two together you looked away from him, embarrassment blooming within your already racing heart. But before you could blurt out an apology, Bo kissed your lips - pulling you out of your self conscious state.  

"That's normal for your first time. It's okay, baby." He reassured. Cleaning you and himself up with a small cotton handkerchief, you jumped at the soft fabric rubbing against your sensitive sex, which earned a sympathetic chuckle from Bo. 

"Hopefully next time we do it we'll have a bed. My back hurts..." You whispered as your hand pressed on the small of your back, getting fucked against a hard wall feels good in the moment, but you know you'll be stiff as a board the following morning.  

"Next time?" Bo asked as a mischievous grin tugged at his lips.  

"I-I mean if you want--" 

"I'll make sure we'll have a bed, and besides I promised you a massage, remember?" He smiled and you smiled back at him. After getting cleaned up, you and Bo rejoined the bustling crowd of the juke joint, hand in hand. 

You were counting down the minutes until your next 'encounter' with him - and so was he. 

[itzpookiepooh]

Heyi love your writings! I have request feel free to ignore it if you want to .

Can you write the lads boys reaction to the reader having a contagious virus or infection where she can't touch anyone or have any normal encounter?

I fear it’s in my bones to make this funny somehow

CHEESE TOUCH

Rafayel is dripped down in medical gear. I’m talking suit, hair cap, gloves, the works. Coming home from the doctor’s office was insane enough. He made you sit in the backseat while he had a mask on and zoomed home. Now you were in the guest bedroom while he hands you stuff with a grabby stick.

“Just grab it please.” He mumbled sweetly. Honestly you wanted to laugh.

“I’m trying.” You tell him as you laugh which leads you to cough. He flinches at the sound almost dropping the stick holding the bag filled with hydration.

“I’m trying to be supportive but I’m so scared.” He whispered to himself as his hands tremble. You almost lost it because the situation may be serious but this was too good.

“Is the God of the sea scared of me?” You tease with a hoarse voice. He immediately denies what you said.

“I’m scared of you getting worse!” He corrected you as you grab the bag. You thought of something that would make this better.

“I forgot I coughed on the light switch on the way in here.” You joke making him yelp and spray with disinfectant. The door slams shut as he shouts he loves you and to get some rest through the door. You laugh until you cough which makes him pop back into the room to check on you.

He doesn’t let you leave the hospital let’s be realistic. He’s taking the best care of you while protecting himself from the virus too. You thought he was so sweet. You could kiss him if you weren’t so sick. He checked your IV regularly and unbeknownst to you he worked overtime to monitor you.

“How are you feeling today?” Zayne asks checking his clipboard. You groan trying to sit up.

“Sore but doing great.” You raise your thumb up. He shakes his head trying not to laugh at you.

“Not a good enough sign but getting somewhere.” He mumbles writing it down. You chuckle causing you to cough.

“It’ll take more than a measly cold to take me out.” You flex weakly before wincing and dropping them.

“You have a highly contagious virus.” He tells you through his medical gear as he stares at you blankly.

“Same thing.” You counter as he faces you completely.

“It isn’t.” He states firmly before going to get you a new I.V bag.

Sylus locked down the nearly the whole base. You were going to head home and quarantine there but Sylus refused for you to be alone during this time. Especially since you were barely able to stand on your own after the diagnosis. Really before because Sylus had to take you there…you’re very stubborn.

“A kiss would definitely make it better.” You groggily spoke as Sylus pressed a cold cloth to your forehead.

“Maybe so however, everyone else’s immune system is far weaker than mine.” He says softly with his usual smirk. You chuckle weakly before your head falls to the side.

“Tell them to step their game up.” You joke following a cough. He helps you sit up as you continue to cough.

“You seem to have time to joke about such a serious situation even with you being this weak.” He tells you as you shrug tiredly.

“Rest. You need it.” He mumbles laying you back down as your eyes slowly shut.

Xavier didn’t mind being stuck inside with you. So when he found out you were sick he took it upon himself to personally nurse you back to health. He made you tea and did his very best to nurse you back to health.

“I’ll cook you some dinner.” He said softly leaving the room. Your eyes widen in fear as you move too fast for your body.

“Xavier. Xavier!” You try to yell out to him but he couldn’t hear you. You slump half off the bed in defeat.

Xavier was humming throwing things into a big pot. He goes to turn around his eyes wide as you lean against the wall. He rushes over to you trying to hold you up.

“Why are you out of bed?” He panics his eyes big and worried.

“I’m not hungry.” You pant holding onto his forearms. He sighs in relief.

“It’s from a can I’m just adding seasoning.” You sigh in relief your body almost going limp. The only thing keeping you up is your will to live.

Xavier helps you to bed and strictly tells you not to move. The soup wasn’t half bad either.

He’s in and out of the room like a maid and a doctor. He cleans up your snot rags and hydration bottles every hour on the hour. He runs your bath and while you soak he quickly tries to change the sheets. He does all that while making sure you don’t drown.

“Nope. You need to take this or you’ll never get better.” He argues back to you holding a spoon with liquid medicine.

“It tastes disgusting! I don’t want it.” You whine turning away. Caleb huffs and gets up leaving the room.

He waited 2 hours before asking if you were thirsty to which you said yes. He brought you a drink and you chugged almost half before grimacing. You hold it away from you before looking at him.

“Ew Caleb!” You whine making him chuckle. “Told you to drink it.” He shrugs caressing your head.

These are coming out slower and slower 😭

[narrativerehearsal]

It's also helpful to distinguish between generative and analytical AI. Both have their problems but people conflate the potential and capabilities of both of them.

Analytical AI can be useful in some things, like the Japanese AI that was trained to help identify breast cancer (importantly everyone emphasises that it's an assistive imaging analysis tool to help with early detection, not an algorithm that will make medical decisions), and it tells the 'truth' to the best of its ability but that truth is based on whatever it's trained on, which can be biased as hell.

Generative AI is a different ball game and one of the problems is that people sometimes confuse the limited 'truth' telling of analytical AI with the complete fabrication of generative AI. Generative AI can make something that sounds correct but it has no concept of truth or falsehood, it just spits out something that has the right pattern and frequency of words in it.

You can't argue against a technology. No one has ever, ever, in the history of humanity, argued a technology out of existence. The closest we've come are nukes and human genetic engineering. Nukes exist and multiple countries have massive arsenals of them, but we've agreed not to use them because it would mean humanity's utter destruction. Human genetic engineering cuts right to the heart of a bunch of ethical questions about health, equality, identity, and so on, and also up until very recently genetic engineering has been a long and extremely expensive process. We'll see how long human genetic engineering remains taboo now that it's getting cheaper and easier. But these are absolute outliers. In the vast, vast majority of cases, I mean literally in virtually every single case, when people fight a new technology—for any reason—they loose.

There is no tenable "anti-AI art" position, just like there was never a tenable anti-loom position, or anti-railroad position, or anti-horseless carriage position. These things were doomed to fail absolutely from day one, as soon as the technology existed, and anti-AI art is doomed to fail just as utterly and completely. There is just no path here, if this is what you've hitched your wagon to I really do not know what to tell you.

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Comfort for the Soul Part 2

Bob Reynolds x Thunderbolts*!Reader

Part 1

A/N: I really hope you guys enjoyed the previous chapter! Thank you all for the support and love - I love writing this sweet man and I may be writing more for him in the future!

I don't know much about Bipolar disorder, but I tried my best to look more into it to make Bob seem more realistic. It's easy to make Bob and his other 'personalities' similar to DID, but it is not at all the same.

Summary: When you realise your supply of blood bags have run dry, Bob is more than willing to become your temporary blood bag.

Tags: blood, swearing, blood drinking, reader is part vampire (think Blade - day walker and backstory explained a bit more), Bob is very touch starved and very smitten, fluff, pet names, Bob feels some self-doubt, mentions of the Void, making out, getting caught, Bob and reader being possessive, some 18+ moments (Bob gets a boner a few times)

Wordcount: 4,6k

E/C = eye colour

L/N = Last name

Lo and behold, Valentina was not true to her word; those three days suddenly went to five.

Your frustrations were greatly felt throughout the tower, much to the dismay of your team-mates, awkwardly giving support to their best of their knowledge.

It wasn't their fault they didn't know much about day walkers; they had been a rarity, but even you found their curious questions became something far too comical.

"Can't she just eat a squirrel?" John had finally asked at dinner, the group of you giving him varying looks of disbelief. "There's plenty in the park."

"She's part vampire, Walker, not a dog," Ava argued.

"It's fine, guys, I'll live." You chewed on the steak Alexei had offered to cook for you. A plain, on the verge of being a medium rare steak, nothing else to go with it.

Despite his help, he almost forgot about it a second too long, so the juices weren't as plentily. As Walker described it, "you might as well still eat it whilst it's still mooing."

The group didn't discuss anything on it, putting out ideas of what the evening should be: games, movie, trivia night, but your mind was distracted by the kind, thoughtful gesture that Bob had offered to you.

He had been keen on offering himself up as your temporary meal for only three days, but whether he would want to continue this for a few more was something you needed to bring up with him.

It didn't help; you could still see the band-aids he wore underneath his sweater, and the flesh was still healing.

Your mouth watered, the way he sat so snug in his comfy clothes didn't help your situation, sweet, oblivious Bob, unaware of how you were feeling. It took a lot in you now that you had gotten a taste of him, not to just keep pouncing on him every five minutes.

The group had gotten into a debate on films, which ones to watch, and only those that bring your attention back to them.

"If we do watch Star Wars, which ones - prequels or originals -Bob, why don't you pick?" Yelena had brought the attention back to Bob, whose attention had been given to shyly looking over at you when he thought you weren't looking.

"Uh-sorry, what w-were we talking about?"

"Ugh, see? He was too busy giving love eyes to YN!" Walker gestures, but none of them go further into it. Rather, Bob is left with the comment swimming in his mind, his eyes trailing to you to see if you are just as embarrassed as he is.

You give a sympathetic smile, one that doesn't pity him, and you don't make him feel worse. He feels relieved you don't look at him any differently; rather, your attention has shifted.

The heavy debate seemed to bring the worst out of Walker and Ava, disagreeing that "the prequels were better" or "no, originals are the best, we have to start with that and the order they came out in"

You cut them off before you can stomach their growing voices, "Hey guys, I might sit this one out-"

"Oh, no, you're not, L/N!" Walker and almost half of your team shouted out, before Bucky sighed, muttering, "Fuck it, prequels it is," before going to set it up in the living room.

"Hey," a small voice called to you, a nudge to the shoulder as you looked briefly from your unfinished meal to see Bob had made his way over to sit next to you, "something up?"

"All good," you whispered back, but you knew you had to ask him soon enough, "are you free after this? Need to ask you something."

"Of course." He smiled broadly, the smile lines in his face made him look boyish and youthful. Despite taking a chunk out of him the previous night, he seemed to be soothed by being in your presence.

You can't say anything else to him before you're whisked over to help with popcorn duty with Yelena, and Bob is dragged by Alexei to the couch.

"Hey, saved you a seat," Bob motions gently to the space beside him on the long sofa. You realise that he's in the curve of the L in the couch, and despite the length of the couch, you find that the space between you is practically nothing.

You scooch through as you take a seat, finding yourself rather cosied up beside him. Shoulders and legs touching, you realise he's emitting way too much heat to be humanly possible. There's a nervous, bashful look to him, like he's scared you're too uncomfortable being so close to him.

"Is this okay?" He whispers close to your ear when everyone has settled, the lights go off, and the movie intro starts. You notice his hands are fidgeting again, and on reflex, you take them into yours.

The jitteriness stops immediately, feeling the way Bob tenses again as if he's never felt you touch him before, his blue eyes flash with the light coming from the TV, and he looks ethereal with the backdrop of New York behind.

"I'm good." You give his hand a squeeze, your little message to him that you're next to him, not going anywhere.

He seems to relax into the bundle of blankets over you, and by the time the movie ends, you feel sluggish, warm, your head resting against his good shoulder, eyes drifting in and out of sleep.

"The lovebirds are at it again." You hear a voice, maybe Walker, but it sounds too happy, too pleased to see this; the sight of Bob reciprocating your touch, his eyes shut as he breathes deeply in a sleep.

You're so caught up in Bob and sleep, ignoring the snickering, the giggles, maybe even the sound of a phone camera shutter. You just feel so part of his life, and the feeling, unbeknownst to you, is reciprocated.

The group go back to their rooms, leaving the lights dimly lit as you slowly come around after a quick snooze, with Bob groggily joining you.

His brown locks are poking at random angles, his hair tousled but there is a sleepy, dreamy look to him when his eyes land on you beside him, realisation dawning on you both.

"Oh, guess the movie is done." His voice surprises you with how deep it sounds, "Surprised s'all."

"How come?"

"Usually, they're s-so loud," he laughs more to himself softly, his eyes twinkling in the dim light, "can't believe I wasn't thrown a pillow to the f-face for potentially snoring."

"Well, you're in luck, I didn't hear snoring," he matches your smile, relieved to hear that. You shift, feeling something had snaked around you.

Looking down, you spot Bob has not quite noticed he's wrapped himself around you, a hand on your waist, almost possessively, keeping you glued to his side.

"S-Sorry!-" He realised a second later when he sees what you're looking at, pulling back, but you immediately miss him, the way he feels around you, his scent, his overall being.

It's okay- you want to tell him- I like you being close- but you stop yourself from embarrassing yourself and admitting to it. You rake your fingers together, collecting the right words.

"Bob, I-"

"You... haven't fed properly, all day," he begins, eyeing you carefully. He sees it in the way your eyes are more frantic, you're jittery, and there's a sheen that looks like sweat across your brow.

You look at him, your heart pounding almost out of time to its normal beat, as Bob pulls back his sweater carefully, revealing the other side of his untouched skin. You feel the heartbeat there, strong, slightly fast.

"You can always... have some more now?" He asks, the softness in his voice is as if he's luring you out like a siren in the waters. It entices you easily, and you wish to just climb on top of him and commence there, but you're still cautious.

"Not here," you warn, and you look away from him, trying to ignore the briskness and liveliness coming from his chest. "If we were to do this, it would have to be in a room- yours maybe-"

"How about yours?" He asks, and the question has you wondering why he chose yours and not his. "I-mean... only if you want...there's nothing against using my room-"

"My room it is then." You stand up abruptly, startling him, taking him by the hand as you both not-so-subtly scurry together down the hallway.

Bob doesn't think he's ever been more nervous in his life to be entering someone's bedroom, let alone it being yours.

He feels similar to some teenage boy sneaking off to a girl's room, an experience he never had but is all too giddy in finally getting to try it.

Bob doesn't know what he thinks he's going to experience when he comes into your room. Walker's 'vampiric' stereotypes run through his mind, and he's oddly curious but fully aware you won't have blood on the walls, upside-down crosses hanging everywhere.

Your hand has not left yours since you thumb the door quickly, efficiently, opening it without a second thought, as you allowed him to step in first, you following.

He's certainly not expecting your room to look so... normal?

No coffin to sleep in.

No dead animals hanging around.

Just a simple, normal bedroom, filled with a slightly above-average number of plants.

You have a bookshelf of books of different genres he's read, old vinyls and a player sitting by your window, a pair of cosy slippers sitting by the end of your bed.

Bob notices a sketchbook half-scattered on your desk and is amazed that you like to draw. There's a familiar scent of vanilla or coconut or something fancy that Bob can't place what it is, but it's warm and smells like you, and he slowly feels enveloped by it.

There are fairy lights strewn over the top of your bed, hanging like hundreds of fireflies, and Bob thinks, no doubt, that this room is undeniably yours.

"Make yourself comfy." You say behind him, as Bob clumsily makes his way to your bed, stunned, the sheets feel so soft compared to his; he sinks into the mattress rather than the one in his room that makes him feel like he's sitting on bedrock.

His mind drowns him with unwanted thoughts: thoughts of imagining the two of you curled up with one another, sharing a space that was intimate in itself for just letting both of you be one.

"Bob," he looks up as he realises he's caught dissociating, looking to see you hovering by the door, eyes flashing between E/C and those golden-white ones, "you're so pretty."

The compliment rattles through him: body, mind and soul. He's opening and closing his mouth erratically, noises anyone would not think could be humanly possible to make are are you both can hear. He's scrambling to think of something to say, thinking- his mind screaming with different thoughts of things to say back to you.

"You're pretty, too-gorgeous even! Um, like pretty in the face and body-oh, that sounds so creepy, n-not like I'm staring at your body, I swear!-"

A giggle echoed in the softness of your room, and his heart hammers as if ready to be reached to and ripped from him. How someone like you can listen to him, even want to be with him, makes his mind spiral.

"You think I'm pretty, Bob?" You're lightly teasing him, stepping closer to him, observing him like he's prey, and he's sweating profusely, wishing he were doused in holy water for his racing thoughts. "Gorgeous?" You continue until you stand in front of him.

He's looking anywhere by at you, so scared he's going to mess things up, ruin your friendship if he does something-says something, and to watch everything he's tried making with you burn away.

He wishes the mattress could sink him further and further down into a nothing space, but he's so sure you can feel everything. Soft fingers hold his chin to make him look up at you, and all you do is smile down at him, and Bob feels weak.

"Do I scare you, Bob?" He hears it, the soft gravel in your tone, the growl that grips your question. You're ravenous, and he's enjoying this way too much.

"N-No," his voice is a shudder, his fingers fidget in wanting to touch you again, and he finds that they move on their own, moving tentatively over your hips, his eyes not leaving yours. "I'm not scared of you."

Humming, you lean over him until your mouth grazes lightly over the shell of his ear. "May I," he thinks you're going to ask something else, "bite you?"

He's so happy to be a part of this, nodding his head so enthusiastically that you fear it will roll off, presenting his neck to you as his anticipation rises. He forgets to take his sweatshirt off, but it doesn't matter, you have enough room.

You don't waste time this time, and Bob gasps all the same as before when you bite into him. This time, now being in the confines of four walls, his noises are louder.

"O-Oh." He whimpers unapologetically, large warm hands grip suddenly at you with the strength that still stuns you, pulling you until you're practically hovering over his lap. Bob doesn't stop there, finally tugging you as you move with him, leg sweeping over and caging him in.

His Adam's apple bobs, fingers holding you by your thighs, your waist, trailing higher towards your ribs, all whilst trying to concentrate on his breathing, despite hearing the rush of blood leaving his head.

He shifts you in his arms, and a rookie mistake is made by him, for he accidentally shifts you a bit too far forward. Your core catches his crotch, rubbing unintentionally the more you move.

Bob whines in the back of his throat, tears well in his eyes. It feels so good, but he feels terrified, having himself wrapped around your little finger. He wishes he could stay here, in your arms, embracing you for as long as possible.

You growl in the back of your throat, not human, the sound reverberates through from Bob's neck down into his chest, hammering like a bell. He thinks you're going to lose control, and he's ready to bring you back.

"Fuck, baby, I've got you." The pet name slips out quicker than he realises, but it feels good from him, earning a low whine to come from you.

It's sudden, but you love it; the word goes straight to your core shamefully. "I've got you-I've got you." Bob feels the rush of endorphins from it, the way he feels so trusted by you in his arms.

Your thighs tighten around him, trying to stop yourself from gyrating on top of him despite how tempting it is. He doesn't seem opposed to it; your bodies move to help you get better access to his neck, creating a gyrating movement that anyone who came in would see would be obvious, indicating that the two of you were making out.

There is something sensual building, unfamiliar, but it seems so normal for both of you, blossoming into something undeclared, personal.

Your mouth withdraws from his skin, a harsh, ragged exhale leaves you as if you've been choking down on air. Leaning over him, your faces are far closer than usual.

Bob works on instinct and does the unthinkable, his fingers tracing over your cheekbone, tucking back a piece behind your ear.

"You're so pretty," you whisper, like the two of you are sharing heartfelt secrets between one another. Your bloodied lips trace over his ear once more, and Bob finds himself struggling to breathe. "Such a pretty boy."

Bob groans louder than he expected, squeezing your hips, his legs tense and untense, trying to move you off his crotch as quickly as possible. The words hit him as if he were awaiting the waves to crash down on him; the suspense kills him, but he's more terrified of making the wrong move. He doesn't want to scare you off.

"You-you have no idea what you do to me." His voice comes out hoarse, deeper than expected, his blue eyes flash momentarily to a warm golden hue, then back to their usual.

You know he's nervous about engaging in something so new, balancing that with the possible fear that there might also be a part of him that is trying to make him feel the lowest.

Bob shakily exhales, pushing his face into your torso, hugging you a little tighter when he feels himself overworking his mind. That you're using him just for some sort of gain, the other part is certain you wouldn't be allowing him to do any of this with you.

'She thinks you're weak.' The Void speaks through him as if he's conversing with it, but Bob doesn't want to think of it. He wants to be enveloped in you, your warmth, your sunshine, not the darkness.

"Bob," you try to draw him out, trying to get him to look up at you, and it takes some prying before his eyes dart up to look at you. He's afraid, afraid he's messed things up, worsened the relationship or friendship between the two of you. "I'm here. You did such a good job."

"I did?" There is a light that comes from him when he hears it come directly from you. He peeks his head out a bit more, uncertain yet tentative.

"Always." You murmur, and the two of you spend some minutes just in each other's arms, telling him how proud you are of him, how good he is to you. He is silent in your arms, letting out small, exhales when he hears compliments come from you.

"You're too good for me." He says after some time, and it hurts to see him doubt himself. "I'm a mess."

"Sometimes that's what makes us us," you hum, stroking back his brown hair. "I wouldn't change you for anything."

The Golden Guardian, he is to some, but to you, he's just Bob, the Bob who makes you feel most like yourself, someone who didn't run away from you the moment they saw you.

Not the monster your parents had cast out so many years ago, selling you off to the military. He's your sanctuary, you're everything he wishes to worship.

"Let me get you cleaned up." You hop off him slowly, rising as you walk to the ensuite. You linger for a bit before disappearing, holding his hand to steady him, to help him through his breathing before he's sure he's okay.

"Sure-not going anywhere." Bob exhales, crashing backwards onto the sheets, trying to hide the obvious 'problem' that had grown in his sweatpants.

It's another two nights that pass before you see Bob's confidence begin to build. It's small, subtle, but there in the way he walks, how he talks to you and others. It's blinding, and you feel strangely clingy when you're not near him.

It's game night this time around in the Avengers' tower, pizza boxes strewn across the couch, beers and wine flowing as conversation comes easily, laughter too.

Music softly plays of some club song you've never heard of, watching in amusement as a drunk Alexei tries dancing in time to it, spurred on as he's cheered by almost everyone watching.

Yelena watches on in cringe, muttering as she looks anywhere but onwards, suddenly feeling that the music needs to be changed as she hurries off. The others cheer on as Alexei laughs with a bellowing roar, the beer in hand nearly spilling as he moves.

"What fun!" He's loud, louder than normal, your ears ring at the noises around you, but you feel your eyes drifting over Bob too many times to Bob.

He's been quiet, silent in his laughter as he observes everything around him, as he sips slowly at his Sprite. You're awestruck by him, so absorbed in staring at him, not feeling the couch dip on your right. Yelena has snuck her way to sit beside you, startling you as she whispers to you.

"You're drooling."

You react quickly, wiping your mouth to find nothing as Yelena laughs, watching the way you try to avoid her eyes and the attention of anyone else. "When were you going to tell me you and Bob were seeing each other?"

The music doesn't seem loud enough, and you wish to drown in it. You feel like people are staring, even when they're not. You downplay the situation as you nervously laugh, "What are you talking about, Lena?"

"I mean, when I saw Bob leave your room two nights ago."

The glass of wine almost crushes in your hand from how you're gripping it, your heart thrums uncontrollably. You're quiet for a second too long, and Yelena is given all the proof she needs that something is going on.

"It's cute," She whispers, ignoring the way you're trying to cover your face. Bob glances back at the two of you curiously, trying not to eavesdrop. "The two of you- so cute together."

"W-we're not-it's not-"

"You don't have to say anything, L/N," she winks, her smile wicked, "I know."

She's quickly gone before you can explain things, proclaiming that it was time to take Alexei back to his room before he does anything further embarrassing. You watch as it takes a team effort of Walker, Ava and Yelena to drag the larger Russian man out, laughing to yourself as you hear the mumbled struggles, Alexei slurring his words.

You snuggle into the couch, enjoying the silence after some time, a comfortable, not awkward one fills the air as you look up, seeing Bob shyly looking your way already.

"You want to join me?" You beckon him over as he stands from the beanbag, shuffling quietly in a pair of almost matching slippers you had bought for him when he said he wished he had a pair.

You both sit in silence again, listening to the sounds grow quieter, a hum of the kitchen light, a honk from a car outside. It's peace that you love sharing with Bob.

You put down your glass of red, head swimming with a need for a distraction, eyes trailing over Bob as if you're undressing him with your eyes. "Ready?" You ask when you're certain everyone is occupied.

Bob nods, placing his cup down, shuffling closer to you until you straddle him with ease. He takes it naturally, a long exhale leaves his lips as you feel bolder in teasing him, tracing your fangs lightly over his skin, feeling previous bites have slowly begun healing with time.

"Please, Y/N," he whines, and you hush him sweetly, taking your time with him. "I know, sweetie, I'm here for you." Your voice drops a bit lower, and you revel in sensing his heartbeat pick up faster when you move over him.

He's so obedient, and it makes your mind wander to how he would be as a partner. Your thighs clench, and you lean into his shoulder, relieving him of the wait.

He grunts, not as loudly as before, as you drink slowly from him, sensually, hips rolling as you're taken up in a lull. Your mind short-circuits, you forget where you are, so emboldened by him and his words of encouragement, his hands guiding you.

You shock him, though, when you press kisses into his neck, trailing up his jaw as you leave bloody kiss marks the higher you go. Bob stares up at you, mesmerised, licking his lips unintentionally to see your bloody mouth.

You can't stop yourself now, and the words that come next from you take you to the final step.

"Want a taste?"

Bob swallows thickly, eyes trailing from your mouth to your eyes, glowing, then back down to your lips. He's hungry in a way you don't think someone like him would be, but he's so sweet in how he pleads. Morbid curiosity has taken over, but he's aware of how you mean to let him taste his blood.

"Please-yes please." You don't know who leans in first, but lips envelop yours, soft and warm. Bob tastes the iron on his lips, strong, and he thinks that you must've turned him at some point-because why is he so obsessed?

Your kiss starts slowly, testing the waters as you pull back inches from him to gauge his reactions, smiling when he chases your lips before diving in for more.

You're so caught up in it all, kissing him, feeling him move beneath you, the way he whispers your name. He kisses you a bit harder now, his tongue swipes curiously over your bottom lip as he tastes a bit more, kissing openly and a little bit more brazenly.

The elevator rises slowly, neither of you noticing, hands touching in places as Bob feels over you tentatively, whispering that pet name you love oh-so-much.

The doors to the elevator chime open. Bucky is tired from a full day of meetings, talking to congress, and wishing for a drink and bed, turning on the light as he's in his own world-

"Oh, what the fuck!"

You pull off, leaning back onto the couch and off Bob slightly, when you hear the voice behind you. Bob still holds you, trying to shield himself as you watch Bucky with equal parts shock and annoyance.

"It's not what you think-"

"No, I'm just going to pretend I didn't walk in on this." Bucky sounds like a disappointed dad as he averts his gaze from the two of you.

The shock brings hurried footsteps to approach, Walker is the first to round the corner to the scene. "Oh fuck-What the fuck, Y/N?"

Ava and Yelena are making small murmurs as they look over it as well. Ava is like Bucky, looking the other way, but Yelena is smiling- fucking smiling- as she gives the thumbs up your way.

"I get you want to get in each other's pants," Walker continues, "but I didn't think I was going to walk in on you eating Bob!"

To them, it made sense that it looked like they walked in on a crime scene: Bob is covered in blood. His mouth, neck and most of his face are smeared. His hair is tousled beyond saving, his sweater is pulled and covered in blood. You've done terribly in trying not to stain the couch, but blood has splattered onto the pillows and blanket.

You try to explain yourself, but there is a noise that has entered the room that feels primal, sudden.

The growl to emit in the room does not come from you, and surprisingly, everyone turns their head directly to who is beneath you.

"Get out." Bob's voice is low, commanding, and it brings everyone in the room to feel a sense of apprehension. This doesn't sound like him; his voice is his own, but it holds power, strength.

The grip around your waist is hiding his excitement from the others, but it is possessive as he repeats the same words, louder this time, somewhat more demanding. "Get. Out."

Everyone moves as if on autopilot. Yelena and Ava scoop a confused Walker out of the room. Bucky shakes his head as he walks the other way down to his room. There is nothing said again from them as they leave the two of you in complete silence.

"Holy shit," you utter when there is no noise, no giggles, no words of astonishment. Looking down towards Bob, he's so caught up in being with you that he hasn't even clocked what happened. "That-that was hot."

Bob blushes as he pulls you down to his level, kissing you deeply to either occupy your thoughts with him again or to shut you up. You greedily kiss back, knowing the next day, breakfast will bring many questions and awkward 'birds and bees' conversations, but you don't care, not when you're with your Bob.

[webslinger-holland]

I had an idea of a cute prompt, where the reader can’t swim, and so Bob teaches them how to?

I adore your writing so much, btw!

The Deep End | Bob Reynolds from Thunderbolts*

Summary: Bob eagerly offers to teach swim lessons, helping get over some fears and building trust with the reader.

Warning: reader has a fear of water/fear of drowning (undisclosed trauma), Walker kinda acts like a jerk, Bob being so wholesome that he needs his own warning ;)

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Type: A lovely request

The installation of a swimming pool was one of the best renovations for the Watchtower. Having it outside on an overlook balcony ended up doubling the construction time and the overall cost, but money wasn't a problem for Valentine. The pool was supposed to be a "training utility" used for combat simulations, underwater operations, and breath-control training.

When in reality, once it was complete, it was really only being used as a pool for leisure. More often than not, Bucky, Walker, and Bob spent their time swimming around or playing water themed sports together. Alexei was the one who spent the most time in the pool and just loved the luxury of it. Yelena and Ava sometimes found themselves in the water, but they often opted to lounge around the lawn chairs in the sun.

And then there was her. The one who almost never got into the water.

Even if she did get in, Y/n only wanted to get her feet wet and never came to the pool wearing a swimsuit. Walker once joked that she didn't own one and Yelena offered one of hers to borrow, but Y/n politely declined.

One hot summer afternoon, the team decided to spend some much needed time relaxing by the pool. The girls, adorned in their own suits, lay on the chairs with sunglasses over their eyes. The boys, wearing their trunks, tossed one of those foam footballs back and forth and treaded water easily.

The glass door leading out to the balcony slid open. Hearing the door, Bob turned his head and looked towards Y/n who was making her way out in a simple white shirt and jean shorts. He lost focus for a second and only hearing his name snapped him out of the trance.

"Come to join us?" Yelena asked with a small smile.

"Mhmm," Y/n nodded and gingerly sat down near the end of the pool. She dipped her feet into the cold water and gripped the edge, leaning forward to watch the boys mess around.

"Stand back! I will now show you what true Soviet athleticism looks like!” Alexei announced loudly and charged towards the pool, jumping high and cannonballing into the water.

His impact on the water sent it flying in all directions, causing Bucky and Walker to turn their heads away. A few drops phased through Ava on the lounge chair. And Yelena yelled at him in Russian for getting her wet.

Bob, sparing another glance, caught the way Y/n's lips tugged into a soft smile. The sound of her gentle laughter caused his heart to skip a beat. All of the sudden, without warning, Y/n lifted her head and looked directly at him.

His breath caught in the back of his throat and he quickly plugged his nose to submerge under the water, hiding from her gaze. He mentally cursed himself, but couldn't prepare for what happened next.

Because Alexei swam right under him and rose up to that Bob sat on top of his shoulders. Emerging out of the water, Bob tried to steady himself and Alexei held onto his legs.

"I challenge the two super soldiers to a classic game of chicken," Alexei stated. "A true contest of brains, masculinity, and strength!"

"So you chose Bob as your partner?" Walker snickered and Bob turned red from embarrassment.

"You underestimate him; that's good." Alexei smirked competitively.

"What are we twelve?" Bucky asked with his hands on his hips.

"Y-Yeah, I'm really not good at this game," Bob tried to reason, but he was still stuck on Alexei's shoulders.

"One round," Alexei pleaded with Bucky and Walker. They shared a quick look and reluctantly accepted the challenge.

Not two minutes later, Bucky was sitting on top of Walker's shoulders. The pairs neared the center of the pool, circling like two predators about to fight. A tangle of limbs, grunting, and competitive yelling filled the air.

Walker shouted, “Stabilize, Barnes!”

Alexei bellowed in Russian.

Only a second later, the four of them went underwater with there being no clear winner. When they surfaced, each of them wiped the water and hair out of their eyes. Bob sputtered some water.

"That was great entertainment," Yelena clapped sarcastically. "For about the two seconds it lasted."

"You play like a bunch of girls," Ava added.

"We do not," Walker rolled his eyes. He padded over to the ladder and climbed out, followed by the other three.

"Yeah, I'd like to see you girls play a round or two." Bucky smirked and passed some towels out.

"No thanks," Yelena shook her head. "I enjoy being in the sun and staying dry."

"Same here," Ava raised her ice cold drink in agreement.

Being the last one, all eyes fell to the one who sat near the edge of the pool staring into the water. She glanced over her shoulder and found them all staring at her expectantly. She quickly scrambled to her feet and shook her head in denial.

"N-No, I don't really want to play." Y/n failed to come up with a good excuse.

"Have you ever gotten in the pool?" Walker asked half jokingly and Y/n made a point to avoid his gaze.

"I-I'm just going to go inside. Getting kinda hot out here," Y/n tried to brush them off. She went to walk past them, trying her hardest to avoid staring at them without their shirts on and dripping wet.

"What better way than to cool off in the pool," Walker joked smugly.

Before she could answer, Walker shoved her from behind playfully, but forcefully—straight into the center of the pool. She wasn't given much time to react.

"JOHN!" Y/n breathed a shocked gasp as she fell directly into the pool with a heavy splash.

She didn't scream; she just sank.

The weightless water distorted her sense of direction. There was no bottom and there was no top of the pool. She flailed her arms so violently that they began to burn and grow weak. The bubbles slipped further into her mouth and filled her lungs painfully.

Above the surface, a few seconds of laughter echoed through the air. The only one who didn't laugh was Bob whose eyes were fixed on the spot where she fell into the water. After a couple seconds without reemerging, the laughter died out and everyone went quiet.

"Shit," Bucky cursed to himself and Bob leapt into action.

Without a second thought, Bob dove directly into the water and swam towards the limp body. He came up out of the water with her in his arms, ignoring the wet locks of hair that stuck to his face and the water that dribbled down his chin.

Having come up, Y/n coughed to expel the water that filled her lungs. She half-heartedly smeared the hair out of her face and her eyes burned from the chlorine. She clung to Bob desperately, fearing letting go and loosing herself to the water again.

He swam the both of them towards the edge of the pool, helping her onto the concrete surface and having the others bring her to safety. But John stood at a safe distance and felt a wave of guilt wash over him.

Trying to regain a sense of her surroundings, Y/n tried to calm herself down. She coughed violently, still choking on water; her eyes wide with panic. And Yelena was the first to kneel beside her.

"You’re alright. You’re safe.” She reassured her.

Then Alexei awkwardly came up beside them, draping a sun-warmed towel around her shoulders. Yelena tenderly brushed away some of the wet hair that stuck to her face.

From the way her body was reacting, practically trembling out of shock and utter fear, all of them knew there was some underlying trauma with being in water. They sent each other all-knowing glances; an unspoken look of understanding being communicated amongst them.

"Easy. You’re alright. Deep breaths.” Bucky encouraged with a smile, kneeling beside her and helping her rise to her feet.

"Come on," Yelena came to stand beside her and wrapped her arm around her shoulder. "Let's go inside for now."

"We'll get you out of these wet clothes," Ava smiled and joined the other side.

All three girls began to walk back towards the sliding door; Ava and Yelena throwing a quick glance over their shoulders towards the boys who stood about awkwardly. The door closed behind them and they ushered her towards her bedroom.

By the time Y/n reached her bedroom, the tears had begun running down her face. She tried to sniffle up her tears to no avail, thinking her reaction was plain stupid and she was just showing weakness. The door closed behind them and the walls came down.

"I-I am sorry. This is so stupid," Y/n half cried and half laughed.

"It's not stupid," Ava shook her head. "It's very human actually."

"Walker was way out of line," Yelena insisted with a shake of the head.

"Not knowing how to swim at my age," Y/n scoffed and nervously fiddled with the edge of her towel. She tossed it off her shoulders in slight frustration, proceeding to shed the wet clothes from her body because she just hated the feeling. "Being scared of water," Y/n spoke angrily more to herself.

Rifling through her drawers to find new clothes, Y/n tugged them over her body and pulled the wet hair from under her shirt collar. She smoothed her hands over her shirt as if trying to brush the entire experience away.

"You know..." Yelena tested the waters by stepping forward. "It's never to late to learn."

"What?" Y/n asked with furrowed brows.

"To swim," Yelena extended and Y/n's face went pale. "Nobody would judge you— "

"I-I don't know," Y/n lowered her gaze to stare down at the floor, suddenly feeling nervous and anxious about the idea of trying something new.

All of the sudden, there was a soft knocking sound that came from the door. She brushed past the others and grabbed the door handle, opening the door to reveal Bob standing there. Her breath caught in the back of her throat because...

Bob was still dripping wet from the pool and was still not wearing a shirt (just his swim trunks). He stood there panting like he was still trying to recover his breath from the dive, sending a brief smile at the sight of her standing there. His hair clung to his forehead and a few drops dripped down the sides of his face.

"H-Hi," Bob waved awkwardly. He tried to wipe some water out of his eyes; his hand blindly searching for the doorframe for balance. "Ho-How are you doing? Everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah. I-I'm fine," Y/n said. She crossed her arms over her chest and she coiled deeper into her own body. She avoided his gaze with expertise, trying to hide the evident blush on her face.

"We were just discussing the idea of teaching Y/n how to swim," Yelena spoke from behind her, sounding rather excited to bring up the idea to Bob. His brows shot up in surprise.

"Oh. Really?" Bob asked. He looked down at her for confirmation.

"Yeah. But I don't really know if—" Y/n began only to be cut off.

"I could teach you," Bob volunteered without hesitation and Y/n's head snapped towards him.

"You would?" Y/n's voice squeaked out in surprise.

"Sure," Bob shrugged.

During the team's next mission, Bob and Y/n stayed behind at the tower. They scheduled a time to meet out on the balcony by the pool where it would just be the two of them. So now, Y/n stood at the pool’s edge in a black fitted tank and shorts, hair pulled back, arms folded tight. She still hesitated before entering, but it was less about fear now—more about memory.

And Bob was already in the water. He looked up at her with a patient smile.

“No pressure,” Bob said. “Just you, me, and the water.”

He offered his hand as a sort of invitation and she trusted him enough to take that leap of faith into a genuine fear of hers. She stepped into the water.

The first initial moments felt like her heart was going to leap out of her chest, her lungs would collapse, and the tightening feeling in her stomach only got worse. That was until Bob drew her closer by wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into his chest.

Their proximity left both of them feeling a little flushed. Noses nearly brushing together and skin pressed against skin. She didn't even realize that he was slowly walking backwards so the water rose just past their chests.

"Do you trust me?" Bob wondered. His eyes briefly darted down to her lips.

"Yes," Y/n whispered.

With a gentle push off, Bob proceeded to swim backwards with Y/n's weight of her body resting on the majority of him. She clung to him like to lifeline, truly terrified to let go at first. But he kept her afloat, above the water line and away from her fear.

After some time, Bob suggested having her lean back. He calmly supported her back with one hand. He watched her face for any signs that would tell him it was too much.

"Breathe in,” Bob kept his voice calm “Fill your lungs. They’re like built-in floaties.”

She laughed under her breath, nervous and still clinging tightly onto the edge of the pool. The water lapped at her sides gently.

“Now lean back. I’ve got you. Trust me.”

She did, only to quickly catch herself like she felt herself falling.

"Nope! Nope," Y/n scrambled into an upright position and clung desperately onto the edge again.

"It's alright," Bob reassured her, not pressing. "Take your time."

Glancing at him, Y/n took a deep breathe and closed her eyes. She leaned back again, this time, fully trusting him. Her body stretched out across the surface of the water, tense at first—then easing, just a little, as she felt the subtle lift of buoyancy under her spine.

Bob didn’t let go, not yet. He smiled at how peaceful she looked.

“You’re doing it,” Bob murmured. It was the first small victory.

Each day, they spent anywhere from thirty minutes to an hour practicing swimming in the pool. He first wanted her to work on floating to develop the trust that the water could hold her. Then she practiced kicking off the side herself and towards his open arms. And Bob didn't move, just watched—hands ready, but not needed.

A few weeks had gone by when she made it from one end of the pool to the other by herself. She padded her way over to him, sending him a look of surprise.

“You didn’t catch me,” Y/n observed, knowing that was what he normally did.

“You didn’t need me to.” Bob smiled back.

One of the most nerving lessons involved jumping into the water and allowing her head to submerge under the water. She stood frozen at the edge of the pool, peering down into the depths with uncertainty in her eyes. And there Bob was, just looking up at her and waiting patiently.

"You can do this," Bob nodded reassuringly.

"I--I don't know if I can," Y/n insisted with a firm shake of the head. She took a step back, but he moved forward.

"I'll catch you," Bob called. He opened his arms to her. "I promise you."

She closed her eyes, took a single deep breath through her nose, and leaped into the water. The water swallowed her up and the bubbles around her rose rapidly to the surface.

The water rushed up to meet her, cold and clear. She opened her eyes beneath the surface. It wasn’t blurry. It wasn’t loud. It was quiet. Peaceful. And she didn’t panic.

Her feet brushed the bottom. Her body rose again.

When she broke the surface, hair slicked back, breath rushing, she looked for him immediately. He was right there for her; his eyes were shining.

“Y/n” Bob breathed, moving closer.

“I did it,” Y/n said, half-laugh, half-sob. “I dunked my head.”

“You did it.” Bob was so proud of her.

Gleefully, Y/n launched herself at him—arms around his neck, face buried in his shoulder. He held her there, weightless in his arms. The fear was no longer there, only the trust they'd built for one another. Both of them, in their own way, keeping the other from drowning themselves.

HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED THIS ONE! I AM STILL TAKING REQUESTS

[ironmyrmidon]

J K Rowling actually does benefit financially from having a large dedicated fan base, a fan base that you help sustain, even if you personally don't buy merch or watch her show or whatever.

Hogwarts Legacy was the best selling video game of 2023, because Harry Potter has a large dedicated fan base. HBO is spending billions of pounds on the new Harry Potter show, including millions in direct payments to J K Rowling each year, because Harry Potter has a large dedicated fan base. Universal Studios opened Harry Potter World Beijing in 2021, because Harry Potter has a large dedicated fan base.

And when those fans aren't buying merch and subscriptions and tickets, they're reading your fanfic and reblogging your fan art and participating in your fan communities.

I'm sure that spot will wash out soon, Lady Macbeth. After all, twas not your hand that held the knife.

you would handfeed a werewolf a treat

[un-fwuit-un-fwog]

Leona flood incoming!

Leona with a f!reader who can read people super well, very gifted in body language and reading between the lines.

So, hear me out ...it's cannon he likes to work for his success, not just have it easy or instant. There's no fun in that. Make him sweat dear reader!

He is getting away with nothing. Nada. Poor lion has met his match. Talks a big game, he's a strategist, used to being the one who can see between the lines. And boom, he's blind sided and suddenly He's the one stumbling. He's met his match. And worse, she's subtle about it. Checkmate. 💘

So, this took me way too long to get to. . .SORRY!!

Anyway, love this idea! Leona doesn't talk a ton, so someone who can read him is a perfect match!

Synopsis: Leona mentally kicks himself as he finds himself becoming more and more partial to the prefect with the piercing gaze he swore to avoid. The Prefect thinks he's just terrible at flirting (he is).

TW: Leona yells at one point but it's quickly glossed over (his anger is quelled by a lil smooch)

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x Reader Who Can Read Him

It started just before Leona's overblot. Your friend had been taunting him but just as he was on the verge of snapping, you, out of nowhere, dragged them off. That wasn't all that odd, what was; however, was the look in your eyes. He only made eye contact with you for a brief moment, but when he did, it felt like your eyes saw into the very depths of his soul.

Leona DIDN'T like that.

The Next time it happened was as he was overblotting. Just as the viscous black ink began to surround his body, he made eye contact with you.

There was that feeling again.

After his overblot, he decided it'd be best to avoid the little magicless prefect with the unsettling stare.

That didn't happen.

In fact, he was forced much closer to you when your dorm was seized by Octavinelle and that left you to have to stay in the same room as him.

You seemed to predict every movement, change in emotion, and even thought. It's not like you were using this ability maliciously, quite the opposite actually. You used it to help him out more than anything else.

But Leona wasn't used to being seen. Not like this at least. As a prince he was used to being looked at, but never truly seen.

One evening the two of you were sitting in his room doing your own things when he started to feel hungry. Just as that feeling struck you walked into the room (when had you left?!) with snacks. You handed him one. It happened to be his favorite.

A shiver jolted through his spine.

"You good?" you look up at him.

He just huffs and rolls in bed to face away from you.

He thought he had gotten rid of you when you got your dorm back, but it appeared the gods simply hated him.

Crowley instated you as the spelldrive club's manager.

And, of course, you somehow managed to always carry out his orders before he could even give them.

It was after a spelldrive game that the next incident happened. The team had won an overwhelming victory. Everyone was in high spirits and Leona's smirk was cockier that ever.

You approached him in a moment when he was away from the rest of the team and gave his a detailed record of the game. That was pretty normal. What was strange was what you said "The team we face next week will be much tougher than the one we just faced. If we go in with this game in mind we'll be crushed. I set up a practice match with a team on a slightly higher level than the team we face next week so we don't get too comfortable."

And with that, you walked away. You just casually walked away after telling Leona exactly what was on his mind.

A chill.

This continued to happen over and over again. It was to the point that Leona was now questioning his lifelong dream of becoming king. Being seen by someone was just too unsettling.

It was family day at NRC and while Leona's family had promised to come, there was royal business they had to attend to last minute.

Most assumed Leona was elated as he wasn't exactly shy about expressing his distaste for his relatives. His face didn't show any clues that the assumption was false either as it was as stoic as always.

So why was it that when he came back to his room from begrudgingly greeting all the families who came to see his dormmates he saw you? Why did he see you sitting on the edge of his freshly made bed with freshly fluffed pillows, his favorite meal, and a set up chess board?

Why did the chill feel less unpleasant this time?

This was Leona's nightmare. No, not being up at 1:00 in the morning unable to sleep. Leona realized he liked you romantically. Out of all people, why did it have to he the one person he knew he couldn't hide anything from?!

For weeks after this realization he did his best to avoid you. When you greeted him he just gave a short huff. When you sat next to him during joint lessons his tail would flick and he would refuse to look at or talk to you. To everyone else, it looked like Leona had finally had enough and was shunning you.

It all bubbled up when he was leaving the locker room after spelldrive practice and saw you waiting for him on a bench. "Ah, you're done-"

"Would you just leave me alone?!" you weren't sure if it would be more accurate to compare his tone to a roar or a growl, but whatever it was, it sent all the nearby birds careening out of the trees.

Leona panted as he watched you agitatatedly.

Sure, you winced a little when he yelled, but you didn't run. In fact, after the initial shock, you didn't look scared either.

You casually stood up, stretched, and approached him. You stopped a few feet away before speaking: "Why would you ask me to do that if you have a crush on me? Is this some new weird confession tactic?"

He froze.

"What?"

"Whaddya mean 'what?' You've been really obvious, you know."

Leona started pacing, his tail flicking violently as he muttered to himself. "Why didn't you say something!?" he finally paused his ranting and pacing to yell.

"I thought you were just bad at flirting."

His eye twitches at that comment.

However, as he's about to open his mouth to speak, you grab his collar and pull him down to your level. Before he can react, he feels soft lips meeting his. He only realizes what's happening when you begin to pull away and he tries to chase your lips.

"Well, that's my confession" you yawn. You YAWN. You just kissed him and now you're yawning.

He's not even surprised when you read his shift in mood instantly "It's late and chasing someone playing hard to get is tiring."

Leona's eye twitches once more before he throws you over his shoulder and starts marching towards his dorm "I guess we should take a nap then, shouldn't we?" it wasn't really a question as much as it was a passive aggressive remark.

"Sure."

From that position, you couldn't see the blush rapidly creeping onto his face.

"So, we're dating now?"

"The h*ll do you think, Herbivore" the lion grumbles into your chest as his tail swishes agitatedly. You might have even thought he was upset if it wasn't for the way his arms wrapped tightly around you and his face pressed deeply into your chest. Just to test it, you slowly began removing your hand from where it was tangled into his unruly locks only to have him growl at you until you put it back.

Sure, sometimes it was impressive that you could read him, but other times he really was just too obvious.

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[clanwarrior-tumbly]

I see forsaken...here's one!! Characters of your choosing (survivor and killers are fine) with a reader who has an "identity switch"? Idk if they're in other asym horror games but identity switches are from identity v and basically mean that the character is both a killer and survivor...as far as I know there's not a whole lot if lore on identity switches :p I just thibk it'd be juicy drama when one of your allies just starts hunting you down one day and the next they're doing machines like nothing ever happened

Ohh yeah I can just imagine the angst/drama that would come with it! I'll just do 3 survivors

..........

Noob

Before being forsaken, your identity varied between a normal-looking survivor and a monstrous hunter/killer, the latter of which you vowed to never use again unless it was a matter of life or death.

The Spectre found you to be particularly intriguing, deciding to let you keep that role with merely a small change:

You'd forget your previous identity whenever you switched between survivor/killer....which was just about every other round.

Unfortunately you wouldn't realize this until much later, after meeting Noob and befriending them and the others.

Their spirits seemed down lately, but within your first few conversations with them, you got them to smile and even laugh a little--and for a moment, everything seemed okay...

Until you're warped into damnation and have to fix the generators whilst a killer runs amok, reminding you that this was ultimately your new life now.

Usually Noob is fine on their own, with bloxy cola and ghostburgers to keep them "out of sight, out of mind", although you still try your best to protect them.

But one night, you enter the fray looking awfully different, and at first they think nothing of it, assuming you're using your powers to protect them....until they made the mistake of turning their back, as you struck them once and sent them running away from the generator. Yet you followed their every move, knowing how much they prioritized the machines.

And despite their pleas for you to recognize them, you murdered them as though you didn't know them at all.

Back in the cabin, Noob was rightfully scared of you. They didn't think it was possible for someone to be both survivor and killer.

And that begs the question....who's side were you really on? Why did they trust you?

You didn't understand why they were starting to avoid you over the next few days, and why they yelled at you to "go away" when you try helping them with a generator.

Eventually, you confronted them and they broke down, explaining how you killed them so brutally, not even recognizing them, and you look utterly confused.

That made no sense. You were the monster? Like the corrupted John Doe? Like the hate-filled 1x4??? You don't even remember ever switching to that form...

You could never fathom hurting Noob, and you apologize and try to comfort them, unable to believe that was you....and they become confused, too.

It takes a few more rounds for them to realize you genuinely couldn't remember switching to your killer identity and you'd even forget the conversations you both had about this subject.

You'd keep asking why Noob was scared of you, and they'd explain it again and again. It made you feel guilty, knowing that some higher being was messing with your memories and powers, forcing you to hurt your friends. You assured them that if you targeted them next time, it wasn't anything personal.

Sometimes, they found that hard to believe.

Eventually, they learned how to anticipate your attacks so they didn't die to you as much, although your appearance still scares them.

Guest 1337

Despite his gruff and intimidating appearance, Guest could see how anxious you were about spawning into this new place. He was was actually one of the first survivors to talk to you and help you feel welcomed among the group.

When you're getting chased by the killer, he takes the blow and sends them flying a few feet away....and while you're grateful on the outside, on the inside you're sweating, feeling lucky that he doesn't know about your identity switch just yet. You planned to tell him before being abruptly thrown into damnation, but now you were afraid getting knocked into next weekend.

Unfortunately for you, him, and every other survivor...you appear as the next round's killer and begin hunting him down specifically, taunting him and calling him a "pathetic meatshield", destined to fail his comrades, threatening to break every bone in his hands so he'd be useless and helpless.

Insults typically didn't bother him, but the fact that it's coming from you, someone he thought to be a friend and ally, cut deep.

With perfect timing, one of your abilities is strong enough to counter his punch, even if he blocked your attack successfully. And if he didn't get out of the way....he was dead in the blink of an eye.

Back at the cabin, Guest looks shocked when you're back to normal, sitting by the fireplace. Then he gets annoyed when you asked why he looked so grim.

"Do the words "pathetic meatshield" ring a bell?" He grunts, his eyebrow raised as your confusion grows. "Now's not the time to play dumb. Why didn't you tell us you could be both killer and survivor?"

"....what?" Your eyes widen. "How...did you know?"

".....seriously? This isn't funny. It was clearly you who murdered me last round." He removes his gloves to show you the scars on his hands, inflicted by you. "You threatened to break every bone I had. And now you're acting like nothing happened?"

"I did that...? That's..no. That's insane! I-It's true I have an identity switch power, but I swore off on being a killer! Why....Why would I do that to you? Why would I say those awful things?"

In that moment, Guest sees you clutching your head, genuinely looking upset about what your killer-self did, as though they were a separate person.

As more matches continued, he began to understand that you'd become amnesic every round. You'd counter his punches as killer one moment, and the next you're repairing the generators as survivor, asking for his protection like you didn't just insult his entire bloodline yesterday.

Like Noob, Guest learns how to counter your attacks better, and he informs the others so they knew that you weren't trying to hurt them on purpose. He knows you don't truly mean those terrible words.

But he hesitates to open up anymore to you, uncertain whether he has to perceive you as an ally or enemy in the next damnation.

Taph

The mute demolitionist was someone who you originally thought was a killer, but you learned very quickly that you shouldn't judge appearances...as he was actually very sweet to you.

With him sticking by your side during your first round, you learned how this "death game" worked and how his contraptions ensured your safety, making you feel better about fixing generators.

He lays down nearby tripwires while you're working, and threw a subspace tripmine at Jason (who's been targeting you for a while, able to sense that you were "new"), buying you lots of time to escape and heal.

You were grateful for Taph's protection and repaid him by following up with an attack if he managed to stun Jason.

However, when he doesn't find you anywhere next round, he assumes you were killed off already and feels sad....until he sees you in the distance, coming towards him.

But you look...different.

He gets the tripwire ready--only for you to slash through it like paper, and he stares at you in shock, realizing you're the killer.

Before he can grab a subspace tripmine, you strike him, snarling as you chase him through several areas before finally dealing the killing blow, but not before taunting him.

"How weak. You're nothing without your little toys, huh?" Are the last words he hears before dying, laying in the grass with his robes soaked in blood.

But the physical pain is nothing compared to the emotional...

Your words echo in his mind as everyone respawns in the cabin, including you...who's back to looking like a survivor, confused as to why everyone seemed to be avoiding you.

But the second you look at Taph, he flinches...before running out into the woods alone. You follow him out to the pier in worry, unsure why he reacted that way.

He's sitting by the water, shoulders trembling with silent sobs, keeping a tripwire behind him.

You just step over it, and he looks at you, his whole body tensing up. You didn't have to see his expression to understand how scared and sad he was...the dark tear marks staining his cloth mask were enough.

His hand is on a subspace tripmine, ready to activate it, but luckily you convince him not to as you cautiously sit beside him, wondering what was wrong.

"Taph...did I do something to hurt you?"

"🫵🤜💥☠️" ("You killed me")

"..I...I did what?""

He's so upset that he could barely sign properly and coherently, but you eventually understand that you cruelly insulted him while killing him, and the guilt crushes you--especially as you explain that don't even remember doing any of that.

He has a hard time believing you, but the remorse on your face and the apologies spilling from your mouth seemed genuine enough.

You're only truly forgiven once you share a brownie with him (it was just a snack you had in your pocket somehow, or maybe you got it from Elliot's shop before being forsaken), and after that, he promises to remind you of what you told him should you forget again.

Even when you're the killer giving chase to somebody, Taph hesitates to throw a subspace tripmine at you despite their pleas for help....but he forces himself to anyways, especially if Builderman demands it.

You don't remember getting struck by it, although he feels the need to apologize back at the cabin.

[pinkyqily]

BRAIDS AND SHADE Salma Paralluelo x Reader

Summary : you and salma have a beach day while you also help her take out her braids in the sunny shades ⛱

Warning : slight cursing Summary, this is a report from my old account that got deactivate.

Today was on of those days where yours and salma off days macht.

meaning you both could spend the whole day together without one of you having a busy schedule and not being able to make it to any of your plans or having to leave mid-date.

Today would be very different as you both had three days off that ended up matching both your schedule.

Excitement filled both you and salma. Because both already planned what to do together.

a divider date where one person plans the beginning while the other planes the rest. You've already done your part in planning the first half, which consisted of surprising salma with breakfast in bed, which was rare as she always had to be up bright and early for training, making it impossible.

But today, she slept over her alarm, making it easy for you except the part you had to get out of her giant grip without her noticing which happened successfully.

After that, you both got ready for your massage appointment that you booked, knowing well she needed it having complained about random cramps that felt after heavy training or game days.

The next few hours had been filled with shopping and sneaky kisses.

Helping salma look for some pants that she's been wanting to get. and some Fifa games she wanted to get.

So her and vicky could play with it when she comes over, getting sweet treats and some makeup and other products you both needed around your shared apartment.

that would be the your part of date that you planned. now it was salma trun for the other half of the date.

"So where are we going that you got our suitcases packed with three different outfits, with four different bikini placed on our bed?" you asked her ?.

"You just gotta wait til we arrive there".she told you before leaving a kiss on your lips.

grabbing your hand, leading you into the car before placing the location onto GPS so you know where to drive.

Salma was a passenger princess as she didn't know how to drive and hadn't gotten her drivers license. this woman would rather run to her destination than drive, which you found funny and would tease her about it.

You've almost arrived at the place the GPS was leading you into until you where able to see somewhat of a beachy report.

"You did not just book us to one of these beach resort did you". you asked her with a smile on your face

"I may have known that I'll days off would macht and decided to book here I know how the beach is one your favorite places and the offer was too good to miss". she told you

This would be one of salma best qualities that you loved about her when she does stuff for you without you knowing or asking.

Once you both managed to get everything done and head to the beach. salam had asked if you could help her take out her braids while you both chill out for the rest of the day which you didn't mind doing.

You both found a spot under the beautiful beach shades and decided to lay there and that when you started getting rid of her braids one by one which surprisingly didn't take you that long. as you we're used to taking braids.

you'd finally finish taking out her braids and one thing you admire about salma was when her curly where out it made her look like some type of goddess especially with that body of hers.

you loved this woman down bad and would do anything for her.

this day had to be the best day ever enjoy half the day with the love of your life while finishing it off a the beach with a beautiful sunset.

And it couldn't have been done without a small makeout session with the sunset right behind you both.

[notebooks-and-laptops]

BG3 doesn't understand what makes someone 'evil' and it shows

Since its release, BG3 has been heaped with praise for its ability to let the player do pretty much whatever they want in a runthrough. An RPG thrives on choice, and BG3 offers you plenty. You can attack anyone you might want to instead of talking to them, or you can try and persuade individuals round to your point of view. You can romance any member of your party, or you can romance none at all. You can save the druid grove and the refugee tieflings that are hiding there, or you can kill them all by siding with Minthara.

However, now I'm in my 'evil' playthrough of BG3, I can't help but notice cracks in the BG3 formula. And I think the best way to shine a light on these cracks is by comparrison with another choice heavy RPG: Dragon Age Origins.

In Dragon Age Origins, there is a quest in which you travel to a mage tower to find chaos all around. The templars at the doors explain to you that someof the mages have summoned demons into the tower through blood magic, and they have thus sent away for the right of annulment that will give them the authority to kill every mage in the tower. You can talk the templars into letting you into the tower to try and help, but how you 'help' is up to you. You can either carry out the rite of annulment for the templars, killing all in your path until the tower is free of all possible demonic influence or you can try and save as many mages as you possibly can. Depending on how you complete this quest, a different ally will join you in the final fight (either the templars or the mages).

So, on the surface, pretty similar to the grove right? You can either kill everyone in the grove, or you can try and protect them against those who are trying to annihilate them. Similarly to the grove too, a companion (Wynne in this case) will leave your party to defend the mages if you say you're planning on killing Irving the head mage (just like Wyll will side against you if you attack the grove). Except. Wait. There is a very specific difference.

I don't think anybody would claim that carrying out the 'rite of annulment' for the templars is the morally virtuous choice. It involves killing innocents all the way to the top, and the assumption is that the templars will kill any individuals you leave behind (mainly: the children Wynne is protecting). Throughout the game we have seen how the mages are effectively prisoners at the mercy of the templars, and while the demons running around are obviously not a good thing you can see why the mages felt the need to summon them to try and escape.

But there are in universe reasons why your character would chose to carry out the rite of annulment on the circle and side with the templars beyond 'hehehe I'm very evil'. DAO establishes before you even get to the tower that mages are viewed as incredibly dangerous in this world. You've potentially already met Connor, a little boy who tried to use his magic to save his fathers life, and in doing so has been waking hoards of undead to attack an innocent village. The circle is viewed as the only way mages can learn to control their powers, and the templars the only way to protect mages from themsleves. The overwhelming culture and the propoganda for said culture would say that the 'right' thing to do is to side with the templars so that none of this can affect anyone outside the tower. And to hammer that point home, they have a traumatised templar Cullen at the top of the tower who's been subject to torture for days and lays out exactly why it'd be better to kill all the mages than to even have the slightest doubt that they're still using blood magic and summoning demons.

So your character has a reason to chose the 'evil' option here, beyond just 'hahaha I'm so evil'.

Now, lets turn to the grove in BG3.

What reason does the player character have for siding with Minthara and attacking the grove? Minthara and the goblins don't offer any reason to beyond the fact that their God told them to, a God who by that point you're already suspicious of due to the tadpoles and the seeming mind control said God is using to control those around her. The Absolute is a new God too, so I suppose Minthara and the Goblins could convert you prior to going to raid the camp, but there's no way for you to have been raised as a believer in the Absolute or have any reason to follow the Absolute really.

It all just feels a bit convoluted. The evil choice is evil because....it is the evil choice. When you make said choice, you are basically deciding to play as a character who is evil for evils sake, because the game doesn't give any in-universe justification why you would ever want to kill the tiefling refugees. In fact, the game heavily disinsentivises you by making your objective in the Goblin Camp to free Halsin so he can help give you a cure. No potential cure is offered by Minthara for helping clear out the grove; nobody says 'hey if you follow the absolute and do as she says she'll be able to fix that parasite'. In fact, you need to keep a secret from the Absolute in order to keep playing the game - you need to make sure you don't hand over the prism. You literally can't fully be on the absolutes side at this point.

So while BG3 does offer you the choice, I think it doesn't do a good job of offering you the choice in the way other similar RPGs do.

Off the top of my head, perhaps they could have fixed this by exploring the goblins a bit more. Perhaps the Druids have been persecuing the goblins for a long time prior to the game, and the goblins want to attack the grove because the druids have been hoarding resources. There could even be a sense of 'the druids let the tieflings in but they refuse to see us goblins as people worthy of protection so we're being left out here to starve'. The goblins have been recruited to the absolute who believe the grove may have the prism, but the reason they're attacking is more to do with the politics of being seen as an 'evil' race not worthy of protection, despite the druids having plenty to go around. Obviously, it would still be the 'evil' choice to kill the tieflings and druids in this universe but you could see why a character would sympathise and chose to side with the goblins.

But no, instead if you want to do an 'evil' run, you really do just have to be kind of comically evil here. Which is a shame, because I think it really takes away from what actually motivates individuals in these circumstances and why they'd chose to take various pathways which other RPGs at least try and give justification for.