#I miss the absolutely fever feeling of those numbers going up up and up

[fandoms-writings]

Let Go

Pairing: DBF!Bucky x college!reader (Part 3)

Word Count: 6.9K

Summary: Enough is enough. It's time to put your foot down with Bucky. You're tired of being hidden, but that means a whole new dynamic to your relationship - and a hard conversation.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY , making out, fingering, p in v sex, subby!bucky makes an appearance, Mentions of past sex acts, angst (this one is SAD for a little guys sorry), reader standing up for herself, confessions, bucky being a big ole dummy, cuss words ( I think that's it lol)

Part 1, 2 || Bucky Masterlist || Masterpost

Sorry! Can we raincheck?

Miles is down with a fever, can we reschedule?

I've got a surprise exam in the morning, I'll have to pass tonight.

The messages from your friends glared at you from your phone screen as you read them over and over. You hadn't actually opened them, they just sat in your inbox, one right after the other. 

Great. You sighed, glancing around the street corner where you were supposed to meet your friends for a night out. Your best cocktail dress clung to your hips as you shifted from heeled foot to heeled foot. You'd wanted to spend the night with your friends, finally taking a break from all the assignments and exams and responsibilities you had. 

But now, you stood alone outside the club, your uber already gone, and some guys eyeing you as they went in, giving you the wrong kind of chills. 

You huffed a breath and raised your phone back up, pulling up a number you haven't had the time to call - you were busy getting a degree - but that didn't stop him from trying to reach you. Bucky's name stared at you as your thumb hovered over the dial button. 

You took a breath to steady yourself as you pressed it and raised the phone to your ear. You hadn't seen Bucky in weeks, not that you didn't want to. You'd just been busy with classes and projects. 

And trying to get a hold over the feelings you had for him - the type of feelings you absolutely could not have for your fathers friend. 

He answered on the third ring, his voice and loud music coming through the speaker, "Hey!" 

"Hey, Buck," You couldn't help the way his voice made your heart start racing, even if he was just over the phone. "Are you busy?" 

"Not at all," His side got quieter as you heard a door slam shut, "What's going on?" 

"I was supposed to go out with some friends tonight, but they've all bailed. I was going to ask if you wanted to come out. I'm already downtown." You told him the name of the club you were standing in front of and he confirmed he knew of it. 

"I can be there in twenty minutes," He said and you could hear the smile in his voice, "Or ten if I run." 

"I'll wait inside for you," You smiled. At least you wouldn't be alone for the night and getting this dolled up wasn't a total waste of your time. 

You hung up before heading inside, letting the loud music rattle your bones as you made your way to the bar to order a drink and wait. 

~~~

The next fifteen minutes flew by faster than you thought they would've, nursing your drink and watching people dance against each other helped. But when those familiar hands landed on the bar next to you, you decided it was worth the wait. 

Bucky looked like he ran, his eyes clear and wild, his chest rising and falling at an uneven pace - though it was clear he was trying to steady it. 

"Where'd you come from?" You asked, a small smirk on your lips. 

"I was at the bar a few blocks down when you called. Started running as soon as you hung up," He said, sliding closer to your side, leaning to purr into your ear, "I've missed you." 

"Hm, have you now?" You fluttered your lashes up at him, and his smile grew.

"I have," His eyes flicked between yours then down to your lips and back up, "You've been so busy, I barely get to see you. It's a miracle I get texts back when I do."

You laughed at that, "Well sorry I'm trying to actually pass my classes with more than just C's"

He chuckled before smirking, "Did you miss me at all?" 

You let out a dramatic sigh, "A bit." 

"Ouch, only a bit, huh? Did I not make a lasting enough impression on you last time we got together?" The moment flashed in your mind - the dingy dive bar, the locked bathroom door, the cool mirror at your back, the counter under you ass, the arms holding your legs open, the way his lips felt on your neck, his hips snapping into yours - 

You pushed the memory from your mind as you felt your core go molten and your skin heat. Bucky knew as his smirk grew that he did indeed make a lasting impression, but chose not to say anything as you slid off the barstool, standing in front of him. 

"I want to dance," You downed the rest of your drink before lifting your chin at him. He chuckled before shifting out of your way, letting you lead the way to the dance floor. 

You didn't even get to take one step before a familiar voice called both of your names. Your heart dropped out of your ass and your skin turned ice as you turned to see one of Bucky's friends - one who also knew your father. 

"Sam!" Bucky smiled, clapping the other man on the shoulder, "What are you doing here?" 

"The wife wanted to have a night out dancing, and this was the spot her friends recommended, so here I am," he smiled, turning to you, "Hey you, I haven't seen you since that barbecue at your dads over the summer. How are you?" 

You pushed a smile to your lips, hoping it came across as natural as you stepped forward to give Sam a quick side hug. "Good, just needed the same thing your wife wanted - a night out." 

"I see," He glanced between you and Bucky, "So, did you two come together or. . ?" 

Your knees felt weak and you were glad you hadn't made it far from your barstool as you leaned on it for support. If Sam found out, there was no way he wouldn't tell you dad, and you dad sure as hell could never know about you and Bucky. But before you could respond, or even try to come up with something that didn't sound suspicious as fuck, Bucky's voice filled the silence. 

"No, I was walking back from the bar on 9th when I saw her standing outside," He smoothly said, putting a friendly hand on your shoulder, "She said her friends canceled so I offered to buy her a drink before she went all the way back home." 

It wasn't a total lie, but something about the way he said it made your chest tighten. The easy lie and simple dismissal of you two being there together, how it was just a coincidence. 

"Oh well I'm sorry," Sam looked at you with too much pity and you fought to keep your smile as you waved him off. 

"It's fine, don't worry," You took a breath, "I should probably go home though." 

"What? You just got here," Bucky argued and you shrugged. 

"My friends aren't coming, I'm not going to dance by myself." 

"Come hang out with us!" Sam exclaimed, adding a teasing, "Unless you think we're too old for you." Oh how wrong he was with that. 

"I don't want to be a bother," You said, "Really, I'll be okay." 

"No no no, c'mon," Sam got his wife's attention, pointed to you and you saw her face light up. "I think she wants to dance with you." 

"Okay, okay, I'll dance for a little bit," You laughed, following Sam to meet his wife on the floor, Bucky at your back. 

You tried to glance over your shoulder to get his attention, to convey how nervous you were - how nervous he should be, but he wasn't even looking at you anymore. His eyes were flitting around the dance floor. 

It was so easy for him to pretend nothing was happening between you two, to pretend like whatever you two had didn't exist. You fought off the uneasiness in that realization as you finally met Sam's wife on the floor and joined her in the music. Your body wasn't as fluid as it usually was when you danced, you felt stiff, but you couldn't help it. Especially not when another glance at Bucky dancing against another girl twisted your gut in ways you didn't know it could. 

Tonight was going to be a long one. 

~~~

Your feet ached in your heels as you quickly made for the exit. You needed air, you needed space, you needed to go home. 

You'd been able to stomach watching Bucky dance without you for the first couple hours - barely - but you couldn't take being ignored anymore. You didn't want him to fuck you in the middle of the dance floor for everyone to see, Sam included, but you would've liked if he'd offered to dance with you like Sam and his wife did. To join the group even or, fuck, just look at you once in awhile. Maybe smile. Or wink.

Instead, he gave you a wide berth, didn't look at you once, and didn't seem interested when you excused yourself to the restroom twenty minutes ago. You hid in the stall, gathering yourself before exiting, glancing out at the group to see not one of them bothered by the long time you took, and decided it was time to go home.

Pushing open the main door, you blinked in surprise at the rain that was now pouring down, and you sighed, shutting the door and stepping as far away as you could without stepping out from under the awning. You called an uber to take you home and watched impatiently as the car icon turned down various streets to get to you. The driver wasn't far, and would only take a few minutes to arrive, and you were hoping it was enough time before someone came out looking for you. 

But when the door next to you opened, and that familiar head of cropped brown hair peered around the edge, your heart sank. Your name fell from his lips in a confused tone as he took in the way your arms were wrapped around yourself and how you were basically hiding behind the door to stay out of the way. 

"What are you doing out here?" He shut the door and stepped next to you, his elbow brushing yours. You grit your teeth at the frustration that was brewing in you, the urge to shout and yell. You weren't normally someone who lost their temper, but you were so tired. Tired of not being enough, of being alone. 

"Waiting for my ride." You refused to look at him as he stared at the side of your face and you watched the road. 

"You. . ." He hesitated, tilting his head and leaning a bit, trying to get you to look at him, "You're leaving already?" 

"Yup." At the dismissive tone in your response, he straightened himself again, but still kept staring at your goddamn face. A sigh pushed past your nostrils as you glanced at the gps again, seeing the car was only two blocks down now. Thank god. 

"Do you want me to come with you?" He asked, following you as you stepped out from the awning and into the downpour, your dress and hair almost immediately becoming soaked through. "Or you can come over to mine, if you'd like?" 

"No, thanks." You declined, your voice beginning to strain, "I'm not in the mood to fuck you tonight." 

He flinched as if you'd hit him, but recovered as he sidled up to you again, "W-well, I've got a bottle of wine, your favorite brand, in the fridge unopened. We could have a drink and watch a movie? Or cuddle, or just talk? Whatever you'd like." 

You turned to him, surprisingly calm considering the way your chest seized and your eyes stung. His face fell as he took in the state of you, the misery lining your lashes and the anger pulling your lips thin. "Don't pretend like you actually care, James. Like whatever this is," you weakly gestured to the space between the two of you, "has ever been anything more than you wanting to fuck me," You turned back to the road, your voice dropping below a whisper, "and me letting you." 

His jaw went slack as he stumbled for words. 

A small car pulled up beside you, throwing its hazards on as the window rolled down. You leaned in, asking the driver for his name. The older man who was probably in his late sixties or early seventies introduced himself as Dominic, and after checking to make sure it matched your app, you pulled open the backseat door. 

Bucky's hand shot out to where yours rested on the car door, gently, "Wait. That's it? You're not going to talk to me about this?" 

You fought the tears in your eyes as you sniffed, turning your full attention to him. "There's nothing to talk about, James. I'm just stating how it is. I didn't ask you to come out with me just to ignore me all night, only for you to remember I exist when you want a good lay." The uber driver kept his gaze on the road, patiently waiting for you to get in, and pretended he wasn't hearing your entire conversation. You'd apologize to him once you were on your way. 

"You know why I - "

"Because of Sam," You calmly cut him off, "I know. But that doesn't mean you get to pretend that I don't exist. You wouldn't even look at me." You pulled your hand out from under his, climbing into the car. He held the door open, refusing to close it. "Close the door, James." 

"Can we please talk about this?" He begged, something you never heard him do - usually it was you begging him. You looked up at him, and you couldn't tell if your face was wet from the rain or the tears that could've fallen. It was probably both. 

"What's there to talk about?" You asked, your voice raw, "There are boundaries we can't cross, James. And I'm tired of being alone." You took a breath to try and steady the shakiness out of your voice, "And I'm tired of waiting for you to notice me." 

You leaned forward and grabbed the door handle, ignoring the way Bucky's face crumpled in disbelief. You tried to pull the door, but he held it firmly open. 

"Please let go," You asked. 

He shook his head, your name slipping from his lips like a prayer, "Please."

"Let go." 

He let out a shuddered breath as he looked at his feet for a moment. You were going to say it again, when he nodded and looked up at you, sniffling. 

"Okay," He muttered, "okay." His hand fell from the door, and you watched him through the window as you pulled it shut. 

"Please go," You gently asked your driver, who gave you a pitiful look in the mirror before he nodded, putting the car in drive. You didn't look out the window again, but you knew Bucky was still there, standing in the rain, watching you pull away. 

~~~

"Thanks, Dom," You gave the driver a small smile as you opened the car door. He hadn't asked about what he'd heard while waiting for you to get in the car, or about your tears. He asked if you were alright, if you needed him to stop anywhere and get you anything. You'd smiled, declining the offer, but it had warmed your heart. 

"Of course," He turned to give you a sad smile. "If you need anything, I'll be driving all night, so I'll be around the area." 

You smiled at him, "Thank you, but I'll be fine." 

He nodded, before saying, "Hey." 

You looked at him again, waiting for him to continue.

"I'm not trying to butt in on a situation I don't know," He started, "and you can ignore anything I say once you get out of this car. Just," He took a breath as if to steady himself, "Sometimes, it's worth listening to the other side. So you know the whole truth. So you don't sit there and wonder years later, if shutting them out was a mistake." 

"I appreciate the advice, but," you sighed, "there's a lot of story there that I can't get into." 

"And whatever you do, is your choice. Just. . ." He took a deep breath before his eyes locked with yours, and you could see the regret and the sadness swimming in his irises. "I was that person, once. And not a day goes by where I don't wonder what life would've been like had I just listened." 

You smiled, reaching forward to pat his shoulder, "Don't let the past drag down your present," you offered him a sad smile, and he reached up to pat your fingers with his old ones, "Have a good night, Dom." 

"You as well." 

You climbed out of his car, walking to where the doorman of your building greeted you and held the door open for you. He eyed your soaked clothes and hair with concern and you waved him off. 

"Got caught in the downpour. It's headed this way, but I'm alright." You plastered on a fake smile, as you passed him. 

The elevator ride was suffocatingly silent, the only noise being the dings of the floors you passed and you spent the time removing your heels, your sore feet thankful to be flat again. The ding of your floor filled the air and the doors whirred as they slid open. You were greeted by that maroon carpet, and cream walls of the hall, the little gold detailings of the light fixtures and door handles plentiful as you passed them by, aiming for your door. 

Your keys slid in and unlocked effortlessly, and you stepped into the darkness, shutting the door behind you and locking it before you slid down to the floor. Feet pushed out in front of you, your back to the door, you sat there in the quiet stillness of your apartment. 

In the dark, Dominic's words kept ringing in your head. Sometimes, it's worth listening to the other side. So you know the whole truth.

You sighed as your head fell back and thumped against the door. Deep down, you knew the old man was right. You don't have to let Bucky back in, but you should hear him out. But you knew by the way your heart constricted at just the thought of it, that you weren't ready, not yet. You needed to cool down and think and relax before that conversation.

So you stood on shaky legs and flicked on a couple lights before making your way to the bathroom. A hot bath to wash away the night and chase away the cold that was starting to bite at your bones was the best way to start. 

~~~

Nick, your doorman's voice echoed in your head as you stood at the buzzer of your door. 

There's a James Barnes here to see you. 

It'd been a couple weeks since you left him at that club downtown. Weeks of no contact, not even a text. You knew you needed to talk to him, but you didn't know if you were ready. You didn't even know what more could be said. What story he could try to spin you. 

But you remembered Dom's words from that night, and shook yourself from your stupor just in time to hear Nick calling your name through the buzzer. 

"Send him up." You hoarsely replied, "Thank you, Nick." 

"Sure thing," His voice came through the static before going quiet again. 

You took a deep breath as you looked around the apartment. It was a little messy - you hadn't really had time to clean these past few weeks with finals around the corner. Part of you wanted to rush to pick some of it up, but you knew deep down you didn't have time before Bucky knocked on your door, so you wrapped your arms around your torso and waited, trying to ignore all the awful ways your brain was coming up with for this conversation to end. 

The knock on that door couldn't come soon enough, and you had to steel yourself before pulling it open. 

Bucky honestly looked worse for wear, the bags under his eyes were prominent, his hair that was usually so well styled was unkept and in disarray. His normally well trimmed beard was longer than you'd ever seen it, though it wasn't by much. And in his hands, was a small bouquet of wildflowers. 

"Can I come in?" He asked, his voice gentle and somewhat hesitant. 

You stepped back from the door, silently holding it open for him to enter. He pressed his lips tightly together and quickly stepped in, watching as you shut and locked the door behind him. 

"I know that these won't fix anything, but I remember you talking about the flower shop two blocks over and how you really enjoyed the wildflower bouquets so I thought I'd stop on my way here to get you one - " He was rambling now, staring at the flowers in his hand as his free one came up to gently stroke some of the petals. 

You walked to the kitchen, with him blindly following you as he rambled on and on about the flowers and the specific bunch he grabbed reminded him of you and you had to push out the feelings that started to warm your chest down, down, down back into their steel box - the steel box you decided to lock them away in that night you left him at the club. 

After grabbing a small vase from the cupboard, you held your hand out for the bouquet. Your fingers entered his field of view that was still locked on those petals and his rambling tumbled to a halt before he nodded to himself. 

"Right, sorry," He gently handed them over to you and watched as you placed them in the vase and filled it with water. You'd worry about if you were really going to keep them later, and if you did, going through and properly arranging them. But right now, you had an important talk waiting to happen. And the sooner it was over, the better. 

"What do you want, Bucky?" You asked, pushing the vase away from the edge of the counter and looking up at him. 

"I was hoping we could talk." 

"I have nothing more to say to you." You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned your hip against the counter, eyeing him as he stepped up to the other side, resting his hands against the fake marble. 

"You don't have to say anything, but I have some stuff I'd like to say to you." His eyes were practically begging you to listen and Dom's words rang in your head again. Sometimes, it's worth listening to the other side. So you know the whole truth.

"Fine," You sighed, "out with it." You knew you were being a bit rude and cold. But after the past few weeks you've had, you didn't want him here longer than necessary. 

"Right, um," He took a deep breath. He seemed so uncharacteristically nervous. Whenever you were with him, he was always so sure of himself. So confident and cocky. To see him rambling and fiddling with the flowers earlier, and now struggling to find his words - it put a pause in your frustration. 

He straightened his back and took another breath, and you steeled yourself for what he was about to say. 

"I want to apologize." He started, "For everything. For starting this with you, pursuing you when I knew I shouldn't have. For making a mess of it." His throat bobbed as he continued, "When I met you two years ago, there was just something about you. Something that lured me in. You were - are so smart. You're so fucking smart, and beautiful and funny and witty and I just - " He sighed, "God, I fell so hard for you.

"But your father is one of my friends. And that's not right. What kind of man does that make me?" He asked, gesturing to himself. "What kind of man does that?" He all but fell into one of the barstools at the counter, "So, I kept you at arms length. Only saw you in secret, pretended you weren't there if there was even the slightest chance of getting caught - and for that I am so, so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. But," he sighed, taking a moment before continuing, "but I didn't know you felt any certain way about it. About me."

He looked up from the counter to you, across the kitchen with your arms still crossed, "I didn't know you weren't okay with it. With the hiding and the secrets. If I had known - "

"What?" You weakly asked. You didn't mean to cut him off, you meant it when you said you didn't have anything left to say to him, but your mouth opened of its own accord. "What would you have done?" 

He was silent and you shook your head, letting out a weak, sad laugh, "Exactly. You wouldn't have done anything, because you can't. Not with who we are." You swallowed down the lump that began to form in your throat, your next words coming out almost silently, "I don't just feel a certain way about it." 

"What does that mean?" He asked, his brows knitting together. 

"James," You sighed, "I've been in love with you for months now." His eyes widened as he watched you lean backwards against the other counter, "And what sucks, is that these past few weeks, all I've wanted to do was call my dad, or my mom, and get some advice on our situation," You felt the tears begin to build in the corners of your eyes. "But I can't ask them. And I can't talk to any of my friends about you because they know my parents." 

You ignored the way his face crumbled as your voice cracked and thinned as you fought the building tears, "I can't talk to anyone about you. I'm alone in this. And even if I were to have you, I'd be alone."

He was silent for a minute, watching the tears fall down your cheeks before he slowly stood and walked around the counter to your side. He hesitantly approached you, gently reached up with his hands and brushed away the tears from your chin. 

"What if you didn't have to be alone?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"What if," he breathed in, his eyes scanning every inch of your face as he caressed it with his thumbs, "what if you didn't have to be alone? What if we didn't hide?" 

A weak scoff pushed past your lips and you tried to glare at him, but you could tell it wasn't really there, "You're assuming there's still a 'we'." Though your words were meant to throw him off, the lack of bite in your tone kept him right in front of you, the tight concern in his face melting way to something you'd only glanced in his eyes a handful of times - something soft. 

"I would like there to be." He whispered and you felt that steel box inside yourself crack open. 

"What?" It felt like it fell between you, your question, but he caught it with his nervous grin

"I'm in love with you," he stated with such gentle conviction, that steel box starting to spring open further and further the more he spoke, "and I know I've made a mess of things, but I would do anything to make it right." His hands slid off your cheeks and ran down the lengths of your arms, softly gripping your fingers and pulling them away from your chest and to his own. "I want to be with you. I want to show the world that I'm yours. I want to openly be yours." 

That little steel box shoved deep down inside of yourself flung open. Everything you've bottled up the past few weeks came bubbling to the surface as you fought that wobble in your lips. You fought to keep it all in. To keep yourself composed. 

"I want to make this right," He continued, his own eyes watering at the state you were in, "You just need to tell me how." He sighed, "Or tell me to fuck off, and I will. You'll never hear from me again if that's what you want. And honestly, I wouldn't be offended if you did." 

The thought of never seeing him again didn't sit right with you. It made a horrible sense of dread fill your chest and you shook your head. 

"What about my father?" You asked, your voice straining against the words that were trying to get out. Against the confession that sat at the tip of your tongue. 

"We'll tell him. We'll find a way to tell him and it'll be okay," He gently pulled you, testing to see how you reacted and when you easily stepped towards him, he wrapped his arms around you, holding the back of your head with his hand, "We'll figure it out." 

The warmth from his chest seeped through his shirt into your cheek and you let it out then, the cries that you'd been holding in, the words you'd come to terms with days ago that you never thought would be voiced, the words you'd wanted to say to him in anger began clumsily tumbling from your lips. 

"You're an asshole, you know that?" Your lips scraped against the cotton of his shirt, "You can't expect me to tell you how I feel when you made it feel wrong to want more." You pulled back, weakly pushing against his chest before haphazardly wiping your eyes. 

You'd missed everything about him the past few weeks, no matter how much you tried not to. His warmth, his scent, the feel of his hands, the husk of his voice. God you missed it. And you wouldn't have had to miss him at all had the two of you just told each other. 

"The way you'd avoid me or act as if I wasn't there," You said, taking a step out of his arms, "How do I know that won't happen again?" 

His face fell as he looked at you, his hands dropping to his sides, "You don't, but I can promise you that it never did." He let out a sad chuckle at the confusion taking over the tears in your eyes. "I may have avoided getting too close to you, yes, but not once did I not notice you." 

He stepped forward, wrapping his hands around your waist to settle on your lower back, his fingers tracing invisible patterns into your shirt. 

"If we're in the same room, I always know exactly where you are," His eyes darted down to your lips for a split second, "When you leave the room, all I want to do is follow you, but I can't. So I strain to hear your voice and laugh over everything else. I practically hold my breath until you come back." He gave you a sad smile, "I know you probably don't believe me, but it's true. It's like my entire being orbits around you and when you aren't around, my soul doesn't know where to spin." 

You didn't know what to say as you watched him, noted the sincerity in his gaze - the tears beginning to line his own lashes. You weighed everything he'd told you, how he felt, how he was trying so hard to not lose you. All because you finally put your foot down, and then listened. 

You weren't sure if your brain could form the words you wanted to say - needed to say. Your heart was racing from his confession and the proximity of him. He was so close to you, you'd merely have to tip your chin up the slightest to catch his lips with your own. 

So you did.

His body instantly reacted - his grip tightening across your back and pulling you as close as he could, his lips moving in tandem with yours in the soft enticing way they always did, a sigh leaving his nose and tickling your cheek. 

The feeling of his lips on yours sent a warmth through your chest that you hadn't felt in weeks, and it quickly spread through the rest of you, tingles shooting out to your fingers as they reached for his chin and down to your toes as your feet backed you up into the counter. A small noise that sounded almost like a whimper escaped his throat, swallowed by your mouth on his, as your hands slid up from his chin into his hair, your fingers threading through the strands and gripping them. 

You knew there was more to talk about, more to figure out - there always would be - but right now you couldn't stop thinking about his lips on yours, his tongue gently asking for permission to play with yours as his hands slid from your back down to your ass, squeezing before sliding further to your thighs, his back bowing as he reached. His fingers pulled on your legs twice and in the spare second his lips were able to pull from yours, you felt him whisper to jump, so you did. 

He caught you, gently placing you on the counter as he stepped in between your legs, pulling your hips to the edge of the counter. His lips left yours and moved to your neck, softly nipping and sucking as he moved down to your chest, pulling your shirt, stretching the neck of it but at the moment you couldn't care less about it. He only pulled away to pull the clothing up over your head and out of the way, his mouth immediately going down to close around a nipple when he noticed the lack of bra in his path. 

A low groan rumbled through his throat and into your skin before he moved to the other one, giving it the same treatment as the first. Every little touch of his hands, the way they grazed over your skin or grabbed at your free breast, kneading it with his fingers, and the hot trail his tongue left across your skin turned your core molten. You needed him, you didn't want any of the teasing and edging he so loved to torture you with. 

So you tugged on his hair, his name falling from your lips in a whine and he looked up at you, his eyes glazed and his pupils blown. The look made you hesitate and you clenched around nothing - you'd only seen him that far gone in the feeling of your skin one other time. So, seeing it now, you knew you could ask him to do anything, and he'd do it. You could order him, and he'd obey. 

You pulled his face up to yours, making him stand up straight as you locked your lips with his again and slid your hands down to his belt. While you worked the buckle open, his hands wrapped under the shorts on your hips, pulling them down your legs and causing you to gasp at the cold counter meeting your skin. 

The buckle finally opened and your fingers immediately moved to the button and zipper of his jeans, his own moving to brush against the wetness there. Your lips swallowed the new whine that he let out as he gathered the slick, pushing two fingers all the way in.

Your lips broke from his at the feeling of his long fingers pumping in and out of you and your fingers stumbled over the denim, but finally you got the button open and the zipper down and you shoved at his pants, your lips moving to his ear. 

"C'mon, handsome," You whispered, letting your lips brush against the shell of his ear and grinning at the shiver that ran through his body, "Your fingers feel nice, but," Your hand reached past the waist, gripping and stroking him, his lips opening in a gasp and latching on to your neck again, "this is what I want." 

He groaned into your neck, thrusting into your hand, his fingers in your cunt stroking your walls, matching pace. 

"I need it, James," Your other hand pulled back to grip his hair, pulling on it to get him to look at you as you continued stroking him. When he pulled away from your neck, he already looked fucked out and you smiled, leaning forward to lick his lips. He tried to chase your lips with his own but when your hand didn't let go of his hair, he stopped. "I need you to fuck me, James," He groaned at that, "Can you do that for me?" 

He nodded, his voice thin as he responded, "Yes." 

"Good," You smiled at him, trying not to whine at the loss of his fingers as he pulled them out and pushed his boxers down just enough. His left hand settled on your waist as his other lined himself up with your entrance, gathering some slick before he pushed himself in, going all the way in one go. 

His head fell into your neck as he groaned, the sound of it combined with the sudden fullness pulling a moan from your lips.

"Oh, fuck," Your lips brushed his ear as you panted. "That's it - fuck -" Your hands come up to grip his shoulders and his back as he immediately set a growing pace. "That's a good boy." 

His lips again connected with your neck and you tipped your head to give him more access, his teeth dragging across your skin. His hips sped up, a loud moan breaking from you as he angled to hit that perfect spot, Your head falling back into the cabinets. 

"That's it that's it," You panted, "Oh, don't you dare stop." His teeth nipped just below your ear and you couldn't stop the grin that grew on your lips, "Mark me," You grunted, "I want everyone to know I'm yours." 

What you could only describe as a growl rumbled from his lips into your skin as he began working to leave a mark on that exact spot, the sensation flying through every one of your nerves, shooting down to where he was hitting that perfect spot over and over, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to falling over that edge, faster than he'd ever let you before. 

His lips brushed the skin of your neck as he grunted out, "Please cum on me," His voice was breathless and he sounded so, so close to begging, "please." 

You let out a breathy sound, that band in you so close to snapping as you lifted your legs to wrap around his hips. Your fingers wound through his hair again, gripping the strands as you ordered him, your lips never leaving his ear, "Make me." 

"I will," He said between leaving marks across your neck and shoulder, "I promise I will." 

His hips never faltered as his thumb on his right hand came to press quick circles into your clit, your legs snapping around him at the sensation and your head again hitting the cabinets. 

"Shit, that's it," Your fingers gripped any part of him you could reach, scratching your nails down his skin and the shirt still covering his back. The band in your core snapped and your release washed over you, your body locking around his as you were sure you screamed into his shoulder. 

His hips didn't stop, still fucking into you at that brutal pace he'd set, his thumb still circling your clit and you could feel another orgasm quickly approaching. 

He grunted out, his only request this whole time, "One more," before his voice softened into a whine, "please give me one, pleasepleaseplease." 

You didn't fight the second wave as it crashed into you, stealing your breath. His hips thrust into you just a couple more times before he stilled and his hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise, his long moan vibrating into the skin of your neck as he buried his face again. 

His legs shook as he stood there with you wrapped so tightly around him, but it was like he didn't dare move from your hold, or let you escape his. And you were fine with that. 

Once you got your breath back, you slowly dragged your fingers over his back and shoulders, threading through his hair before going back down his neck, his muscles loosening with each pass. 

His arms wrapped around your waist in a tight hug as he finally broke the silence, "Can there still be a 'we'?" His voice was so quiet, like he was scared to ask. You pulled his face away from your neck finally. "Are you going to ask me out? Like a real date?" You grinned at the flush on his cheeks. 

"Can I take you on a proper date?" 

You couldn't stop the small laugh that bubbled up in your chest and you nodded, "Absolutely." 

There was a feeling in your chest telling you to think about it more before agreeing, but you ignored it. You knew the risks, and you knew there was more to figure out and more to learn before it would be a smooth road - and that didn't even include telling your parents. 

But that was a problem for another day. Right now, you just wanted to stay wrapped around Bucky in every sense and enjoy the warmth that filled your chest as he looked at you like you hung the sky just for him. 

Yeah, you'd fix the rest of it later. 

As always, thank you for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are all appreciated!

If you enjoyed the story, please consider supporting me on my Ko-fi

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[silentcryracha]

Hey 🌷 so I was absolutely smitten over the Hyunjin Baby fever series and would like to request some headcanons for all skz as new dads 😩

Hi love <3 Thank you so much for reading! Apparently a lot of people got a soft spot for that 'series', and it makes me so happy lol

Of course, dad! skz coming right up!

warnings: afab reader, term wife is used, mention of pregnancy, mention of pain and giving birth (no graphic/descriptions), the gender of the babies is never specified

word count: 3.5k

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Chan - From the exact moment he knew you were pregnant you became his number one priority. I mean, you already were, but things could always go south in a marriage/relationship. But he would never, ever, let things go 'south' with his kid. Absolutely not.

He was attentive and very helpful thought the whole thing, including the actual birth, to which I'm sure he would've been in the room for. He'd 100% cry as soon as he holds his baby. He probably wouldn't even try to hold in the sobs as he leans down gently to kiss your forehead, showering you with praises and love.

'You did so well, my love, you're so strong' 'I love you so much, you know it right? You were so brave, my baby' . Would also thank you for giving him such a precious gift any chance he gets.

I feel like he'd take a hiatus for a while. Of course he would've done it anyway to be at home with you and help you, but he also wanted to be present as much as possible.

I feel like while he basically needs someone to drag him away from his work generally, in this case the decision would be the easiest of his life. He could almost be scared to get sucked in his overworking and not pay enough attention to you and his child, so he'd just take both a physical and mental hiatus.

But, I do think that he would feel very inspired especially lyrically, and maybe keep tabs and notes of inspiration that he would use later on. He'd be so inspired by this new kind of love that he's feeling.

Would absolutely be the perfect dad and husband. Taking turns both day and night to change diapers, feeding, bathing, dressing, playing with the baby and so on. I can't help but imagine him constantly having to cuddle his baby :(

He would pick them up, lulling them into his arms to make them stop crying or to sleep. He'd love to just hold them and walk them around showing them new things, like looking out of the window, or some mundane action like preparing their own milk/food. That's his new best friend for sure.

He would also love, safely, to let the child either rest or play on your shared bed, with their mom and dad at each of their side to watch over them :(

He'd sing to them, play the guitar and piano for them, and generally would try so bad to get the baby to enjoy/recognize his own music and voice.

The members would become instantly the privileged uncles. And I'm pretty sure that at least two of them would be named the kid's godparents. My bets would be on Minho and Changbin. Maybe Felix.

Minho - Minho starts behaving like a father way before the baby is born. Because now, his job would be to baby you. He'd make sure that you rest as much as possible, but also try to make activities that would help you physically. Absolutely he's the one that signs you up for prenatal classes, and would make sure to not miss a single one.

He's the kind of man that would rebuild his whole life and routine just to serve you. He'd become your personal driver, shopper, cook, exercise buddy, cuddler and motivational speaker. You need something? Just say it and he'll make it happen.

Now, of course he'd be in the delivery room. Of course. Because I also would imagine that you'd feel lost without him at your side after all those months he spent with you and taking care of you. He would be freaking out inside but he'd keep it cool for you, trying to help you breathe properly, checking in with the medics to make sure that everything was going smoothly, and encouraging you a lot.

'Okay kitten, you heard the doc, right? It's 7 centimeters of dilatation, so you just gotta hang in there for a bit more.' 'I know it hurts my darling, I'm so sorry, if I could take all your pain I would'

When the time comes he'd hold your hand, or better, he'd let you squeeze it, without saying 'ah'. He'd also peek once in a while to check the situation, out of concern and curiosity, which made you scold him for embarrassing you. But he'd say that it's nothing he hasn't seen before or something like that lol

Lee Minho never cries. But not even he could resist getting chocked up when he first heard his baby's cries. He watched quietly as the nurses brought it to your chest, caressing your hair gently and kissing your head and temple while he quietly praised you. 'You did so well, kitten' 'You're the strongest person I know, I love you so much'

The silent tears that he kept hidden at the beginning, couldn't be saved anymore the first time that he actually held his baby in his arms. You knew better than tease him in such a vulnerable situation, and you didn't even want to. You just watched quietly with a tired smile as he had his own little moment with his newborn baby.

He'd also be the perfect husband/dad. Everything was split 50/50 and even 70/30 for all he cared. He was always down to do whatever needed to be done, both around the house or with the baby itself.

Minho is not someone who usually expresses his feelings openly, which is why I feel like small moments of bonding with just him and his baby would be fundamental for him. He'd sing to them, play with them, take some walks with that chest carrier for babies. Yes, he'd love to bring them with him on his fishing, camping adventures. He'd bring them to the beach, around the city and so on.

Of course he'd love to spend time together as a family, especially knowing that you wouldn't have judged him for handling things as he saw fit. You'd organize movie nights, picnics, aquarium dates and so on, as a little family.

Changbin - The sweetest husband and daddy. So emotional too. We all know Binnie is such a sweet man and isn't afraid of showing this softer side, but he doesn't go as far as crying. Seeing Changbin cry isn't an easy occurrence, but you bet this man WILL be bawling his eyes out in the most important moments of his life.

From the time in which you confessed that you were expecting, to the first ultrasound scan, to the first time he noticed your belly showing, the first time he felt the baby kick. It was like putting down small green flags at each step.

His number one priority was your and his baby's health. He'd make sure that you're as comfortable and peaceful as possible during the pregnancy, and wouldn't hold back on expenses either. You'd have the best food, best maternity clothes, best doctors, baby supplies and essentials and so on.

He'd talk to your belly all the time. Sing to it, rap to it. You'd swear that the baby's first word out of the womb would be the whole Thunderous intro mentioning his name. Binnie would be obsessed with the idea of teaching them to rap, for real.

He's the type that would act all brave big and strong but would lowkey faint in the delivery room just from the though of pain. Yours, of course. Of course he'd be there to hold your hand, giving you kisses on the head and caressing your hair, offering words of comfort and encouragement but God forbid if he even as much gazed south to your belly.

Absolutely bawled shamelessly when he heard the first cry, and was so so gentle while holding them for the first time :( He was lowkey afraid of hurting them because his baby is SO tiny :( He'd keep repeating it like a mantra, ' They're so small, how can they be this small?' :')

Changbin wouldn't let you lift a finger, for anything that didn't specifically require your attention, like breastfeeding for example. That would be his way to bond with the baby too. Quality time with daddy Binnie since the start aw :(

He'd love to show his baby off. Like literally. 'They got their looks from us, that's why they're stunning' 'This Dolce & Gabbana jacket would look so cool with the Celine cap and the Gucci shoes wouldn't it?' 'Did you see how they looked at me? They already understand so much, my little genious' . Would absolutely be his mini me, doesn't matter if it's male or female.

Hyunjin - As soon as he heard the news, he was over the moon. Truly. And even more because I imagine that you and him were actually trying for one. He seems like the person who likes to do things in steps, or 'traditionally' if you will. So of course there was the dating, then marriage and then babies.

I also don't feel like he'd settle down too early or when he's still got an active and busy schedule like the one of a young idol. I imagine him still working but being comfortable enough to take some time off to focus on his family.

I feel like he'd take care of you well during the pregnancy, but aside from that his priority would be creating as much memories as possible, hopefully to show your children one day. He's the type of husband who would organize maternity photoshoots, both for you as a solo and with his 'little family', or paint on your belly, take SO many candid pictures.

He'd love to make you as relaxed as possible. He'd run you baths with bubbles and oils and candles, cook whatever you wanted for you, massage you when you were sore, spread creams and oils on your belly to keep the skin hydrated and soft. He'd pamper you, okay? You were about to give him the best gift of his life, you were about to make him a father. He worshipped you.

In the delivery room he'd definitely have to distract himself to not get too anxious, to be strong for you. Otherwise if he actually let any of the ugly and painful reality of it sink in his mind he would've not managed to be calm, and therefore he would've made you anxious too. He did feel like throwing up a few times from the anxiety of hearing you in pain, the doctors talking, and overall the ugly situation.

So instead he just focused on you, holding your hands, kissing them, kissing everywhere he could reach and would be comfortable to you. He'd also repeat til nausea how much he loved you, how strong you are, how amazing and magical you are, how you're going to be the best mother, and how lucky he was to be by your side.

He'd absolutely get ten times more relieved as soon as he hears the cries, because the worst part is over. But would actually get emotional only when you manage to have an intimate moment within you three. He'd fall in love instantly, feeling such a strong sense of responsibility and affection that he hasn't felt before. He would also bond with the baby by spending quality time with them, walking them around, taking care of them, playing instruments and singing for them. He'd absolutely encourage them to draw and paint, and would save every single Picasso style artwork (lol).

Jisung - Han is an anxious person who loves a lot. Which of course will influence his mood and behavior in such a situation. Regardless of the type of relationship that you have, married or not, for how long etc... when you tell him you're pregnant he'd almost have a heart attack. There's no other way to say it to be honest. He could be (and probably would) the happiest man on earth but could as quickly let his brain overthink, killing a little of his enthusiasm.

Mainly because he'd start questioning himself. 'Will I be a good father?' 'Am I mature enough?' 'Will I be able to care for them as best as I can?' and stuff like that. You'd eventually calm him down, so he'd just focus on starting to 'practice' by taking care of you. Whatever you need, you have it.

For the love of God don't let one of those hormonal crisis go around him or he'll just panic. You keep telling him that you can't quite control it and that he didn't do anything wrong but for some reason he'd just blame himself regardless and feel guilty. But he would truly be the best at taking care of you, and you'd make sure to remind him and thank him for it every chance you get, because he need to hear it.

In the delivery room, he's the kind of man who gaslighted himself on being mentally prepared but at your first hiss of pain he feels his legs go jelly. You'd probably have to calm him down and tell him to focus on you because one of y'all needs to make it out alive anyway lol. So he tried really hard, to the cost of going on autopilot and dissociate for the whole thing, but he pulls through.

Would absolutely need to sit down when he finally has the confirmation that both you and the baby are fine, otherwise he'd fall to his knees. Then he'd calm down, telling himself that he needs to be calm and strong for his baby. 'If I'm nervous he'll feel it and cry' 'Is this shirt too rough?' 'What if I hold them wrong?'

And once again you'd have to guide him through it and reassure him. 'See? They love you already. You don't have to worry, baby. Everything will come naturally' , you'd say as Jisung hold his child in his arms gently and sheds a few tears.

After the first few experiences he'd get the hang of it so he'd be way more calm and confident. The only things that would make him panic are the 'unexpected' things. Are they hungry? In pain? Is it the air in the belly? and all that. I feel like he'd never get rid of it truly.

But he would spend as much time as he can with the baby, taking small steps. For example, he'd start by hanging out with them while they're in the cradle, then on the (protected) bed, then on a soft rug and so on. He'd love to sing and play for them, and try to get them to watch his childhood cartoons and anime so that he could grow up with his same core memories.

Felix - A ball of sunshine that was gonna have another small ball of sunshine in 9 months. Of course he was beaming at the news, getting emotional and everything. He'd be the type to organize a whole list of creative ways to tell your loved ones the news and then shamelessly film their reactions.

He'd be your source of comfort and support thought the whole duration of the pregnancy and beyond that. Felix would take such good care of you, only letting you do whatever you felt like doing, not pressuring you on maintaining routines or stress you out at all.

His social media would immediately turn into a baby fever/daddy/family type of content, and he'd probably would try out some funny or sweet things. But he'd also get a lot of useful content, about pregnancy advice, facts and scientific informations and even some practical and medical videos.

By the time it's actually the time for you to give birth he'd be really excited but also quite stressed out, mainly by seeing you in pain and worrying about the baby's health even though (probably and hopefully) the doctors assured you both multiple times that they're fine. He'd hold your hand and support you through it but I feel like he wouldn't be able to look further, may even sob a little but desperately try to hide it.

Would definitely cry in your shoulder and hug you when it's over. But then he'd have the biggest sweetest smile on his face as he holds his baby for the first time. Would spend a lot of time with them and try out all the advice he gathered in the preparation months. To him it would be super important to make sure that he creates a strong bond with them.

Definitely the type of dad to take a shit ton of pictures and post them everywhere, not to show off but genuinely to share the immense joy that his little one brought him :(. Would probably make so many posts both with you alone, thanking you for this gift that you gave him and to tell you how much he loved you, and with you, him and the baby as a happy family.

Seungmin - Would be overwhelmed. He gives off a similar vibe to Jisung I think, in the sense that he'd feel a lot of pressure on his shoulders to be the best father for his child. He'd be extremely happy (and emotional, you can't tell me that he wouldn't fold and cry at the news) but also super nervous :(

Seungmin is another one of those who'd take it as a job to basically learn everything that he can before the time comes. How to take care of a baby, of you during the pregnancy, how to be a good father in general.

Like, one day you could be just chilling and he'd go 'You know that garlic can help cure fevers?' and you'd just look at him confused, 'Okay? Why are you telling me this now?' 'I mean I imagine sooner or later the baby will catch a cold'. The baby in question literally still being in your belly lol

He'd also be really attentive and do everything around the house, no questions asked. Not that he wouldn't do them normally, but of course he wouldn't want you getting fatigued. He's not the best on the emotional side of things but he'd try really hard to support you (and himself) through it.

In the delivery room I feel like the adrenaline and extreme pressure would make him act way cooler on the outside than he would be feeling. He'd be really grounded and so good at also keeping you sane and spur you on, encouraging you. As soon as he'd hear the first cry he would be almost in shock, struggling to believe that his child was just born, but probably allow a couple of tears only in private afterwards. He'd be the type to be super formal and thank the doctors for their work lol

As a new dad Seungmin would have to learn how to let himself be vulnerable sometimes. Not because he'd a cold person, the opposite. But because he seems like the person who'd want to be strong and balanced in the eyes of other people AND for his loved ones, so you'd have to help him with it. But in general he'd be the perfect husband, super helpful and willing to do what needs to be done. He'd like to play and hold the baby a lot, probably sing him lullabies too.

Jeongin - He'd a hundred percent a green flag, change my mind. That babysitting video just showed to me how good he'd actually be and how happy he could be. Jeongin would be overjoyed at the news, mostly because he's also another one of those who looks like the type that if he had a kid, it's only because he'd be actively looking for it. Otherwise he doesn't seem the risky/irresponsible type at all.

He has experience with a younger sibling so he wouldn't be totally oblivious to how to take care of a baby, which would make him way more confident and let him enjoy his happiness more. I feel like the happiness and excitement would overshadow any self doubt. Would announce the news quite privately and probably be careful for the first months, as people usually do.

Jeongin would do so so well I feel, both during and after the pregnancy. He'd take care of you, do chores, help to take care of your body, lighten your mood if you needed it and so on. In the delivery room his job would be to reassure you and calm you down. He'd probably be sick with the adrenaline of the moment but wouldn't let it affect him on the outside.

I don't see him as the type who cries easily, but I think that he would tear up as he hold his child for the first time. He'd be all smiles and giggles constantly, holding the baby and rocking them in his arms while he sings softly to them. He's another one who'd be big on play time, but would also just genuinely enjoy taking care of them. Like giving them baths, feeding them, dressing them up, would bring him such joy.

He'd be the silly type of dad that would buy funny toys and onesies for their child but also like to play with them like little dolls to dress up. That baby would have so many unique and high fashion items and accessories, I just know.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[lvndrptchwrk]

how cove reacts when you're sick

((nothing is truly complete without the comfort of a sick fic, hopefully this isnt too ooc ! this is step 3 cove x mc btw))

🌊 he figures out you're sick when you a. miss a day of school/don't see him during the summer like planned or b. sees you trying to fight the fever by pretending its not there

🌊 would panic immediately, checking your temperature and usher you to the comfort of your bed

🌊 "mc you need to rest! you won't get better by being up and about!"

🌊 any other plans he had is thrown out the window, his number one priority is ensuring you are okay

🌊 stays by your side, giving you water and medicine and even offering to make some soup. he even keeps the trash can nearby just in case !

🌊 feels bad he cant smother you in affection, but doesn't want to risk getting sick himself

🌊 gives you plenty of small kisses and smooches on the cheek, nose and forehead anyways. those don't count !

🌊 he cant ensure you get better if he gets sick, afterall

🌊 if you try to deny you have a fever or get out of bed, he will fireman carry you back to bed with no words

🌊 "i know you think you're all big and tough fighting this fever, but resting will make you feel better faster. and we can't risk you getting other people sick, patient zero" he tells you after tucking you into bed

🌊 would lounge on the floor and only leave when its absolutely necessary. otherwise he's here for as long as you want

🌊 breaks the rules yet again when he decides to cuddle you for a bit after he got you some medicine to help you sleep. he just wants you to sleep soundly at night !

🌊 once he deems you better after a day or two, things can go back to normal

🌊 at least until the next day where he gets sick himself, but at least now you can return the favor !

[guardian-angle22]

Tagged by @beautifulhigh & @welcometololaland to list my top 5 Tarlos scenes.

This is really going to show my Season 3 bias ngl.

#5. 2.12 "Don't make me twist your arm."/"Please do."

Their chemistry is insane when they're teasing each other downstairs and then they kiss each other so softly once they get upstairs. I'm a sucker for a good soundtrack moment and there's something iconic about having their house literally light up on fire under them while obliviously making out as Fever by Elvis Presley plays in the background. Peak cinema tbh.

#4. 3.04 "Hey, baby. Breathe."/"Welcome home, TK."

We can all agree to have these two can count as one scene, right? they go back to back. The way TK reached for Carlos as soon as he woke up and immediately noticed that Carlos wasn't breathing right even though he just woke up from a coma, is still groggy, and barely has his eyes open? soulmate shit right there. If you haven't watched this without the music. my god. do it now. & then add in how happy they both look as Carlos leads TK into the loft with his hands over his eyes, and then when TK looks around and you can see on his face when he realizes he still gets to have this despite everything? Beautiful.

#3. 3.18 "For the first time in my life, the love that I feel is infinitely more powerful than the fear of losing it."/"A thousand times yes."

I mean can I even say more about the proposal that hasn't already been said? the urgency TK felt that prompted him to wake Carlos up in the middle of the night. His speech to Carlos. All the little touches throughout. The way they both were crying by the end. It was beautiful and it was perfect for them. (the only way it could have been better is if they maybe stopped to turn on a fucking lamp)

#2. 3.08 "Hey, look at me."/"I love you."

This was their first mutual "I love you" shown on screen and while the context was heartbreaking, it was still so so sweet. Carlos being the loving caregiver, kissing TK's forehead, rubbing his knee, wanting to make sure he eats. The way Carlos tells TK to look at him and he does immediately, even though TK has been basically avoiding eye contact with everyone the entire scene will live rent free in mind for all of time, I'm sure.

#1. 3.13 "Do you have any idea how proud of you I am?"/"You're just so sweet."

Can I put the entirety of 3.13 on the list at number one? Because it's my favorite episode for them. It has so many things. It has them being domestic and flirtatious. TK being distracted by Carlos in yoga clothes. It has them fighting a bit, overcoming those obstacles, and communicating. It showed Carlos as a multidimensional character with flaws like jealousy and pettiness, but then growing through it to come to the realization that he can't be everything that TK needs at the end of the day.

But if I absolutely had to pick just one scene from it, I would chose the opening scene. TK sharing with Carlos about his meeting, finding a sponsor, & the realization of not having Gwyn around affecting his mindset. Carlos waiting up with his adorable glasses, reading articles to educate himself, telling TK how proud of him he is. TK calling him sweet and flirting with him. I just-- 🥰🥰

----

Because I'm doing this pretty late in the day, this has made it's rounds through a lot of my mutuals already. so I'm just going to tag a few people that I haven't seen do it yet (no pressure though if you're not feelin' it. but also if you have done it and I missed it let me know so I can read yours!): @morganaspendragonss @ourlegendwillbefitforverse @detective-giggles @noxsoulmate @ladytessa74 @autistic-lesbian-story-lover @tkstrandreyes @pragmatic-optimist @reyescarlos @spencessmile @poledancingghostson @sunshinestrand @mandiiigurllll

[femmeroi]

You SHOULD talk about Manjoume Jun's queerness, he's an icon and that's an essay I'd love to read

I SHOULD !!! Jun is my (4th) favourite nasty dude hes so hes so hes o so so so. His gender game is so immaculate and he is only maybe a he/they on a good day. He’s playing 5d gender chess in a uno world. He has so many layers even he isn’t ready to pull them all back yet. His he/him pronouns are an unanswered prayer. He pays child support for masculine terms, they're all he has left after the divorce. I think he always has one foot in the closet, I don’t think he ever really got over his brother's abuse, and if he didn't have friends like Fubuki he’d never accept himself. Even when he accepts himself it's in a very limited way. He's flamboyant, he's unapologetic, he's afraid. To ME he is a nonbinary trans woman gay man, he's a faggot woman, and I think that's beautiful. 

GX as a whole can be read in a very queer way when you consider the ties between familial relationships, duel spirit relationships, and personal acceptance. This tie is most obvious in Jun, who has a solid and obvious arc centering these three aspects. Even then, I feel like people often misinterpret or waterdown his. Everything.

Under the read more is a very long breakdown of my thoughts. If something doesn't make sense, sorry, I have divine madness and a fever.

I’m going to start off with his family, everyone knows them, everyone hates them, and everyone misunderstands them. People often fall into the belief that after his duel with Chosaku, Jun obtained some kind of absolute freedom from his family, often even saying he cut them off. I don’t believe this is entirely correct or incorrect, it’s a belief that's in the right direction while missing the nuance of his situation. Jun’s familial arc isn't about severing ties or escaping abusive structures, it’s about easing the pain by gaining respect. Jun still has a role within the Manjoume Group after his duel with Chosaku, the difference is that after their duel he got their trust. It’s with that trust he got a semblance of freedom, and I believe people often conflate that freedom with absolute liberation.

Jun still works for his family, he is still under their influence, they are just more hands off about it now than before. I say this because his role in the Manjoume Group clearly means a lot to Jun, this is seen through his displays of wealth and his insistence to be called “Manjoume” long after everyone is on a first name basis. He's even seen using the Manjoume Groups money and name to renovate facilities within the school, and if you think that's something an estranged family would allow I have. Serious questions. Like what's your estranged parents credit card number. His connection to the Manjoume Group is only reinforced in season four, where his intention isn’t to get away from his family rather it is to prove himself worthy to his family. His role in the Manjoume Group is also recognized by other characters, which shows that even publicly he is affiliated with them.

All that said, Jun’s brothers are still extremely controlling and abusive people. My dearest mutual (also the very person to send the ask. Hi friend <3) Ren Krakenshaped said one of the minor themes of GX is, “[The] negative influences in your childhood [and how they] can affect you liberating yourself from those negative influences.” I absolutely love the way they worded it and I can’t agree more. I’m putting this here not just to hype her up but also to expand on it in relation to Jun. While I believe Jun's familial arc isn't about absolute liberation, he still gets a semblance of freedom as I mentioned before. He's able to use the cards he wants and he has less pressure to be absolutely perfect, but he still acts as a representative for his family.

The pressure he's under is still present, showing itself in a lesser way through his self-deprecating comments, inferiority complex, and his fear of failure. I think it's important for people to recognize the presence and control that the Manjoume Group still has on him even after his moment of “liberation” against Chosaku. Not everyone can and not everyone will escape the negative influences in their life. There's a lot that can be done with the balance Jun has achieved with his family, but he still does have to play by their rules. 

Now that I got the familial situation outlined, it’s time to talk about his duel spirits ! And I promise I WILL bring this all around to his queerness. I prommy. Hold on with me for another couple hundred words. Unlike Johan, Yusuke, and Judai, Jun didn't have some innate connection to duel spirits. His ability to see and interact with the spirits appeared later in life, more specifically during the worst part of his life up to that point. Jun was under pressure to be the perfect child, and then he got demoted from the Obelisk Blue dorms, and then he got stranded at sea, and then his deck got stolen. And at some point in all of that, he started seeing duel spirits.

I think two things were integral to his awakening, the first was his need to grow as a duelist, and the second was isolation. His need for growth comes from him failing to live up to his family's name, but the growth itself happens when his family is absent. After getting stranded at sea, Jun had no line of communication with his brothers, and he didn’t regain communication with them until he went back to the Central Duel Academia campus. On top of that the people in North Academy seem not to know- or care in case of the headmaster- about Jun’s family name. With this Jun is temporarily freed from the expectations his family and peers place onto him- and instead he is able to focus on growing in his own way. It’s at the North Academy Jun is able to solidify his persona, and it’s at the North Academy he is able to start building his own deck instead of using whatever his family provides.

His individualism and desperation leads him to Ojama Yellow, his need to keep his family life and dueling life separate leads him to the other two Ojama brothers, and his first steps in the professional field created the card Pride Shout. His growth as a duelist, and his relationship with his spirit partners, is linked to the distance he has from his family. His communication with duel spirits, while a physical reality in the show, also functions as a device to show Juns road to self actualization as he comes to terms with his own identity.

And then we get to the actual treatment of his duel spirits. It's made clear through the anime that he does like his duel spirits, and that they know it. He has several decks, not because he's some great duelist like Daichi, but because he cares for the spirits attached to them. And if a card has no purpose he will make them one- either through strategy or by making a whole new card out of pure will.

Despite all this, hes a fucking asshole to his duel spirits. He writes on their cards, he yells at them, he hits them, he throws them in the dirt. While a lot of this behavior is easy to write off as “typical tsundere Jun” or as a gag, I can't help but wonder what's so different between Fubuki, for example, and Ojama Yellow. They're both flamboyant, loud, and annoying. Maybe it's because Ojama Yellow is pathetic. Then what's the difference between Fubuki and the Dark Scorpions ? As a duelist, the decks function as an extension of his character, and his fate more often than not relies on their performance. All things considered, he should be treating them with respect.

I think, specifically for his deck, his distaste comes from the fact that they are an extension of him. Not because he has a horrifying inferiority complex, but because the spirits then function as a part of his identity that he can not control. He can choose the cards in his deck, for the most part, but he can not make the cards act in any specific way. And I don't necessarily think he wants to control how the spirits act, instead he happened to meet them during a time he had no semblance of control after spending years of his life curating a very specific image for himself and he had a hard time coping with the fact that everything he worked for may very well disappear soon if he doesnt start acting in a specific way once again. This is also why he starts being nicer to his cards in season four, the moment he gets his identity back, the moment he has a direction in life, he calls Ojama Yellow his ace. Love !

So like. Why did I say all of that ? Well, I feel like outlining how his familial relationship actually works and how he manages things like duel spirits is really important to understanding how he’d approach a queer identity- and thanks to bandit Keith homophobia is ambiguously cannon and I’m going to accept all the baggage that comes with. I see a lot of queer readings of Jun’s journey begin and end with Chosaku’s duel, or be reduced to “well the card's name is Pride Shout.” And that’s. Not it. To me, Jun’s queer journey never did begin. Not on the outside at least. The duality between his flashy attire and self image issues, the contrast between his free going deck and his need to uphold the family name, the lingering control that the Manjoume group has on him through Chosaku and through public perception, it all just feels so closeted to me. I love that Jun was able to find a part of himself, but he was never able to fully embrace it out of shame until the very last duel of his. I love how he holds onto fear even after that moment. I love how much Jun does without actually doing, I love how he found a way to be himself despite living under his family's expectations, I love how genuinely stifling it is for him, I love how he never stops trying anyway. I think his character is best served in the closet, I think he needs to leave his family, but I dont think it's that easy for him. It's really hard to grow past the negative influences in your life when you set them as your goal.

Anyway nonbinary trans woman gay man Manjoume Jun realness !

[hourcat]

OTP asks: 8, 22, 28 for piarles and maxiel please ❤️

hi darlin!!! i dont dabble in maxiel often so let's see how i do w/these! hehe

8. What happens if one of them gets sick?

for piarles: it's either wildly dramatic or ignored to the point of danger. like, if charles has a stomachache or feels a little bit stuffy, he is laid up on the couch moaning about how life is so unfair, and how he forgets what being healthy is like, and that pierre has to give him a back massage because i will die without it, pierrot, please with a wide, dewy gaze that pierre just rolls his eyes at (but concedes to). however. if charles is running a fever, he's going to ignore it until pierre has to physically wrangle him to bed because he will work through it like it's just a little cold. this all works for pierre, too--the number of foot rubs charles has given him when he's feeling "achy and exhausted, charlo" is too high to count.

for maxiel: i feel like max is the more high-strung one of the two of them when it comes to being sick? daniel, to me, feels like someone who worries but does it quietly - he'll tuck max into bed and be gentle w/him, but he's not gonna make a whole scene about max not drinking the tea he's supposed to be drinking to rest up. (he always wants max to rest, i feel, too - is always worried about him running himself ragged.) but max takes daniel being sick PERSONALLY. he's gonna give his professional medical opinion and not take no for an answer. he worries audibly, he will wake daniel up to drink said tea because "it works best when you drink it on time" even though daniel mumbles some sleepy protest. daniel will be like "oh, anything else, doctor" trying to be sexy and flirty and max just shuts him down immediately because yes there is something else. always.

22. What reminds each of their partner?

for piarles: bc theyre lifelong best friends, literally anything. ridiculous twitter memes, a funny looking plant in a garden they walked by (it's u / shut up texts) - sometimes poetry, although usually it's charles sending it to pierre and it's usually bad poetry, which pierre will make him read back to him the next time they're together.

for maxiel: max associates daniel w/bright, vibrant colors and cowboys (obviously, because thats his brand) but i also feel like he'll associate daniel w/like. lilies. just, the whole variety of the flower. they're beautiful and they're so unique in their style and color variety. he tells daniel this one time and daniel tackles him in some kind of watery hug-kiss mess of affection. as far as daniel goes, i think he associates max with little yappy dogs (affectionate) (max whacks him in the shoulder every time he makes that association and daniel just laughs along w/it) and chubby little blond babies. he's obsessed w those baby photos of max. every single cute fat lil toddler they see when they're out together, daniel will go "look. it's you" and max rolls his eyes. a sleeper pick: daniel thinks of max during sunset/the dusky parts of the evening. loud with color at the beginning, but faded into quietness by the time night rolls around.

28. What are there thoughts on pet names? Do they have any?

for piarles: oh absolutely. both in the genuinely sweet way, and also in the stupid way. again: lifelong friends, which means they will just call each other anything. slap a "my" in front of it and i guarantee you pierre has called charles that.

for maxiel: i feel like they could go either way? i imagine daniel has the potential to be a real sap about it, but he also could just stick to calling max "maxy" and "baby" for the rest of their lives and be settled. i cannot read max for the life of me. maybe he secretly loves the petnames but likes to play it cool? daniel teases it out of him eventually but. yeah

gotta be honest i have 0 read on whether ANY of my maxiel was fanon-compliant so forgive me if i swung and missed at any of this LMAO. ty for the ask bb!

[everydaydg]

37. Space Invaders Extreme 2 (DS, 2009)

(A bit of catch up, You can skip this whole part)

To start: You might ask what’s up with the number 37 there, well let me explain

Back on twitter I started a small thread with every game I’ve beaten and replayed this year to keep up with what I’ve played. Every game got a small review too.

I did 36 games, so I’m going to continue from there (if you don’t want to check the whole thread, here’s the link and if you are not feeling like scrolling through all that, here’s a simple list)

Anyyyyways, let’s get on with the small review.

(The Review starts here)

Space Invaders Extreme 2 is a great sequel to a really fun game!

While it’s not the most innovative sequel, it just hit all the right notes when making a sequel to a game like Space Invaders Extreme

To start! The audio is FANTASTIC

Taito's internal band, ZUNTATA came back to make another soundtrack on the DS after their incredible work (with SuperSweep on Arkanoid DS and the first Space Invaders Extreme on DS

Needless to say, the soundtrack is absolutely fantastic and its dynamic implementation in the game is fantastic, when hitting Fever, the music just GOES IN bringing more intensity to the short time fever lasts (same applies to the bosses!)!!

The soundtrack is fantastic but what makes it even better in game are the SFX, they all compliment the music brilliantly. Every shot and hit is like adding a new instrument to the music and it just... it just works man.

Here take a look!

with the game footage there I think it’s about time I bring up the visuals

It’s a HUUGE improvement over the original! Let’s start with improvements to the HUD

Everything is a whole lot more organized with the chain counter being on the bottom screen and the feature counter being horizontal (which leads to a cute animation when getting a fever UFO)

A lot of the space on the top screen is now taken up by the new bingo grid which ends up looking nice with the red green and blue (I will provide an explanation for bingo later)

it all makes for a HUD that’s easy to understand and looks nice.

onto another aspect of the presentation, the sprites and animation!

A lot more animation has been given to everything! The invaders have a new explosion animation (that looks a little better than the original Imo), every shot animation has been improved (Laser looks nicer and Broad Shot is now green, instead of the originals yellow, and has a nicer shoot animation), pickups spin now, the feature counter turns into arrows and moves away as a fever UFO comes in and the menus are way more lively now as there are more options on screen and there is a FMV (but I won’t deny that the simplicity of the original is great)

I’ve mostly focused on sprite animation there so I should mention the FMVs a bit.

The closest I can compare it to is DDR, where the foreground has nice flashy graphics while the background is going nuts with a video

The style the FMVs go for is so damm nice man, I don’t have the words to describe it, it’s timeless and unique. It reminds me of FMVs in the PS2 DDRs and by golly do I miss those visuals.

The first game did it and it worked so of course it works great here

(Not making a whole section for this but the main ship has a nice gradient now. I like it a lot).

So! gameplay! There’s a couple of improvements and a new system!

To start Fever is a lot less intrusive. It works the same way as before, fill both Feature bar completely (kill 4 invaders with the same color to fill half of the bar, do the same to fill the other and the bar resets when you kill an invader of a different color(for example let’s say you've killed 3 green invaders and then you hit a blue one, after hitting the blue one the bar is reset back to nothing) and then kill the rainbow UFO that appears.

Afterwards you enter fever mode. Anyway, the important thing is that they made it a whole lot more natural, In the original fever stopped the game a bit, you had to see a "Round Start" FMV that stopped the main game and switched you to a small challenge zone, after clearing said challenge you get booted back to the main course with fever mode.

So! SI EX2 doesn’t stop the gameplay, a small sprite appears on the bottom screen saying "ROUND START" and then most of the info on the top screen clears out to start the small challenge while the main course is still going on the bottom screen!! after clearing it, it goes straight into fever! Now UFOs appear constantly on the top screen while every enemy on the bottom screen drops a bunch of pickups that give out extra points. I really like this change! It uses the dual screens to great capacity and it doesn’t break the pace!

The new system is the bingo system!

I suck at explaining this so here’s an excerpt from Gaming Nexus’s 2009 review of the game:

"If you complete a Fever Time successfully, it fills in a slot on a 3 by 3 bingo card on the top screen—the slot color matches the color of the four enemies you killed to start the Fever Time in the first place. If you line up three colored squares in a row you get Bingo Time, an even crazier bonus round that grants huge score bonuses. This bingo card opens up a ton of score combo possibilities and if you’re good you can fill in the whole card, which needless to say nets you an insane amount of points."

This replaces the roulette system from the last game and I think it’s a more compelling inclusion overall, bringing a lot of opportunities to get HUUGEE scores.

Anyway, in terms of the main gameplay its good ol’ space invaders but with power ups

Move left to right and shoot a lot of invaders with power ups like a broad shot, a laser and a bomb that takes out multiple enemies per shot, it’s simple but effective and the game speed is undeniable faster than the original 1978.

So! In conclusion: Space Invaders Extreme 2 is a great game and I heavily recommend it if you are looking for a good schmup on the DS!

It’s a huge shame how it has never gotten a port to any platforms, not even making it to the Space Invaders Invincible Collection... I’m sure it’s because of the dual screen setup but it’s still a little sad.

yea good game. play it.

[bookgirlfan]

Dear Yuletide Author 2023

Dear Yuletide author, 

Hello! Thank you so much for writing a story for me! Whatever you write, I’m sure that as long as you enjoy it, I’ll enjoy it, and it will be excellent! So please don’t stress too much about it. 

I am BookGirlFan on AO3, just as I am here. 

A few general guidelines: 

Found Family is one of my, if not my absolute, favourite trope. If you include this, I’m practically guaranteed to love whatever you write. 

Never be afraid of going too long. I read fast, so I’ll read everything you write, even if it’s a million word epic. (Not that I’m actually asking for a million word epic, just saying if that’s what you ended up writing, I would read it.) 

Hurt/comfort is my jam, and is nearly always a good prompt idea if you can't think of anything else. Romantic tropes turned platonic is generally also something that I love.

Do Not Wants: 

Something entirely around sex/romance, or something that places those kind of relationships as the ultimate kind of relationship.

Unhappy endings. 

Gore.

Benjamin January Mysteries - Barbara Hambly

I've read this series several times since I first found it a few years ago, though I haven't yet read Death and Hard Cider or anything after, so no spoilers for those please! I love the atmosphere of the books, the difficult morality of the cases, and the fabulous interactions between everybody, but especially January, Rose and Hannibal! I ship the three of them, but am also happy to read about any combination, as long as there's no cheating involved.

I've specifically asked for Rose and Hannibal, but if you'd like to include anyone else from the tagset, please do!

A few prompts, in case it helps:

Hannibal teaching Rose to pick locks, or another questionable but useful skill

Missing scenes, like Fever Season where they were both looking after her students, or Days of the Dead in the ride back to Mexico City after the main action

An adventure for the two of them - bonus if Rose has to rescue Hannibal (or January as well?) because she deserves to be the hero too sometimes

AU - of any kind, from different setting to superpowers, magic, crossover, etc.

An outfit swap - this is really vague, I just feel certain that in any kind of modern AU these two definitely swap clothes a lot, and even in canon it’s happened a time or two.

One Day At A Time (TV 2017)

I picked anyone in the tagset for this one, because I love all of them! This is such an amazing show, both really funny but also knows when to take things seriously.

I don't have prompts for this one, not because I love it less, but just because I only discovered the show a few months ago so haven't had time to come up with many! I really just want to see the relationships between this family, particularly between the Riera/Alvarez women and Schneider, because I can never have enough of that.

Famous Five - Enid Blyton

I have requested Julian and Anne, because they’ve always been my favourites. Growing up, I always wanted an older brother like Julian, and related to Anne as being the girly-girl of the family. You don’t have to include both of them, and you are also welcome to also include Dick, or George, or both! 

I do have an extra DNW for this one - no sex or romance, or at least nothing beyond the level of the books.

Prompts: 

An adventure is more dangerous than anticipated. Would be an excellent opportunity for hurt/comfort

Anne’s ‘girlyness’ is what saves the day. Maybe they need to use her sewing skills to get out of danger, or she cooks the bad guy a meal laced with knock-out drugs, or more disconnectedly, keeping track of food and expenses every holiday means she has an excellent head for numbers and accounting, so she’s the one who notices something’s up with their mysterious visitor’s books. 

The boys at school. We’ve seen a little bit of the Anne and George at school, but what’s it like over at the boys’ school? Does their propensity for adventures follow them there? 

What were the Kirrin siblings’ holidays like before they met George? 

[ruffrowdyboiz]

Me getting under ten likes on a pic: “oof... tough crowd 😳”

[sunoodilocks]

BRIDGERTON S2 opinions

(everyday I wake up and find inconsistencies about the 2nd season of bridgerton as a kathony stan)

THE KATE BLAMING AGENDA

This time it's about the most controversial ep in the season.

I want to bring attention to this line ->

S2, ep6, 23:41 s

(the short confrontation between Kate and Edwina after she runs away from the alter)

Edwina to Kate: you have feelings for him!

This particular sentence just made no sense to me? And this is coming from someone who has repeated the entire scene (from the wedding to the confrontation) a number of times solely to understand how she came to the particular conclusion (and being unsuccessful at every attempt btw)

Yes, while the conclusion itself is correct - the way she came to it had basically no substance at all ( it very honestly made me remember those math questions in exams where you get the correct answer but with the absolute random steps)

Why i think so?

Bcoz all throughout the scene it was Anthony who did all the shit that eventually made Edwina figure out what was going on

1) Staring at Kate who was behind Edwina at the alter instead of focusing on her who was his bride

the archbishop asks anthony to repeat after him but anthony doesn't cause he's busy imagining Kate wearing the wedding dress and marrying him - Edwina notices when she turns to look where Anthony's attention was

2) Not knowing what to do after Edwina break his trance during the wedding

after Anthony had broken the daydream he was in after being caught in 4k by edwina, he basically looks around trying to get an idea what he missed - he fumbles because guess what? this guy who was going to be her husband any minute doesn't know shit about what was going on in his OWN WEDDING

Edwina has to sharply (you can easily see how tense she was here) remind him what he was supposed to do

"Yes ofcourse" he says but doesn't stop looking at Kate

3) PICKING UP THE DAMN BANGLEEEEE

Does it even need an explanation at this point?

Anthony, the same guy who was so listless when his own wedding is going on - but now a bangle falls, Kate's bangle - and his response is prompt

I feel like in this scene he subconsiously just told Edwina, "I don't care how unnecessary this is but I'm gonna do it I'm gonna pick up this damn bangle and no one can stop me"

Like please, Kate is perfectly able to pick up the bangle herself but does he care? No

4) "ALLOW ME"

When both Kate and Anthony are crouched down and Anthony picks up the bangle...

"Allow me" he says as he hands Kate the bangle

This whole ordeal could have been done in 3-4 secs max but it instead takes about 10s max and WHY??? bcoz Anthony is busy staring at Kate again - mans was literally caressing her hand in slowmo 😭 while returning the bangle and didn't let go of it till they were halfway standing up

Now then? What did we find out?

Basically that it was ALL ANTHONY'S ACTIONS

So yes, when I say ep6 was a fever dream that I wished didn't actually happen - its bcoz of these scenes.

But hold on!

It however would have made perfect sense if the sentence was phased like this

"I saw what was going on! He has feelings for you!"

the unspoken words here would have been "I saw those looks! I saw those actions! You have something going on between you both!"

Here I could have actually sympathized with her bcoz she after all felt betrayed - she was about to get married but she finds out her soon to be husband has feelings for her sister? Here she blames Kate, yes - but definitely blames Anthony too (which is again, very different for the og line and the feeling conveyed through it)

But when she says "you have feelings for him!" to Kate, I'm just like

Cause deadass what did Kate even do??? 😭 she was literally just standing there like🧍‍♀️baby that was all Anthony Hornypants and you know it 🤌

So yeah, when people complain about how we kathony stans are so protective of Kate - do you ever see the senerio from our side? Well I don't think so

Half of this show was basically

BRIDGER -how can we make kate feel bad- TON

And this scene was a prime example of this. Edwina could have gone off on Anthony about his conduct or shown him atleast a fraction of her anger but no 😂 let's blame it all on Kate! Let's let Anthony fuck around and blame it all on Kate.

After all...

It's always easier...

(Phew! that's all - thanks for coming to my rant)

[autisticandroids]

Oh patron saint of mpreg, tell us, what is the absolute gold standard canon divergent mpreg scenario with Cas and Dean?

so for me the gold standard is for cas to get pregnant due to some kind of magical or metaphysical situation that dean at least does not perceive as sex. bonus points is cas is hesitant about it but refuses to explain why (because he doesn't know how dean will deal with the concept of himself being able to potentially get cas pregnant), so dean is like "we're doing it anyway" and then they do it and then cas doesn't tell anyone that he is pregnant until circumstances force the information out of him. and then dean has to deal with the fact that 1) cas can get pregnant, 2) cas is pregnant, 3) it's his, and he does so pretty poorly.

the rest is under a cut because this post is over 2.5k words long.

my favorite times for this to happen are at the end of season nine, just before dean dies and gets demonized in do you believe in miracles, and at the start of season twelve, just before sam and dean go to jail, because the pining in both those scenarios is delicious but it is so much more powerful if cas is also pregnant, and never even told dean. double points if the truth somehow comes out while they're separated so when dean comes back it's like. yeah cas is pregnant. it's yours. welcome home dean now you have to coddle cas' emotions because he thought he would have to raise your baby alone.

the season twelve scenario is particularly delicious because 1) we can have lucifer slut shaming cas in front of crowley in rock never dies, so crowley knows before dean, and 2) much more importantly, mary is there, and i am obsessed with like. okay. several things.

- the idea of mary getting all baby fever because she misses her boys and this is like. a baby she can take care of because she never got to take care of sam

- the idea of dean working through some of his parentification trauma by coparenting a child with the parent whose place he felt he had to take

- the idea of mary coming in and projecting her insane 1980s gender roles all over cas, suddenly treating him like a woman, stripping him of agency, etc. and like. dean would also do this even though he's not from the eighties, but mary would do it double strength, and they would reinforce each other, it would be a nightmare

- also mary trying to relate to cas on the Travails Of Motherhood etc. and cas being like ?????????? like i cannot stress enough that the weird gender roles she projects onto cas are also standards that she held herself to back when she was a Wife And Mother. while cas is like mary i am not a human woman and also i don't see what "having to look pretty for my man when i'm all baby bloaty" has to do with anything. that's not something i feel like i have to do

oh and 3) could you imagine lily sunder has some regrets if cas was pregnant? unfathomable episode. like ishim and mirabel's reaction but ALSO lily's. and it would fix the number one issue i have with lily sunder, which is that the resolution of the moral dilemma is "well AKSHUALLY the kid was human and not a nephilim so killing it was bad" rather than "it was bad to kill lily's baby, full stop." like ishim's cover up and using the machinery of power to manipulate the truth is very compelling, but the fact that it results in the moral essentially being "it would have been okay if the kid had been a nephilim" suuuuuucks.

basically, there's a reason i have two entire mpreg aus set in season twelve.

and then the delicious part in the season nine version is like. one, dean is away for much longer and he could be anywhere. also he's a demon and he's cheating on cas with crowley. and then even when cas gets him back he's still cursed with the mark, so we can get all weepy over that. you know. i'm the one who's going to have to watch you murder the world and i'm eight months pregnant. etc etc.

but the other thing that's juicy about this version is that cas is still semi-involved with the other angels at this point, like he's roadtripping around with hannah and they're trying to get heaven under control, so carrying a nephil is going to really affect those relationships. so he's going to be probably disliked by the other angels, and there are MANY opportunities for slut-shaming, but at the same time, the other "outcast" type angels might respect him for violating heaven's dictates.

and then of course there's his grace vampirism victorian wasting disease. in canon he's perfectly happy to let himself die, but if he were having dean's baby he would absolutely not do that, that's dean's baby he's endangering there. so of course there's the terrible guilt of having to kill other angels so he can live, plus potentially preparing to die shortly after childbirth so he doesn't have to keep killing. delicious.

and on top of all this cas can get slutshamed by metatron in, depending on when exactly he gets knocked up, meta fiction, stairway to heaven, and do you believe in miracles. plus stairway to heaven would be insane like all the angels would know that cas is pregnant. they would see it in his grace. like cas' angel army would just. know that he was pregnant with a nephil, and have to accept that because he's their leader. in love with humanity indeed.

i'm trying to think of other good times for this drama with cas getting secretly pregnant through a nonsexual interaction to take place. it would be great in season six. like: he's doing a blasphemy with his body but at the same time he's this big important rebel leader so they can't say shit about him, and also he's pregnant while fighting these big important battles (fun and sexy), AND this is like, hot on the heels of the realization that something about his feelings for dean is untoward, expands beyond the bounds of ordinary friendship and camaraderie. like he realizes that, and maybe even that he has sexual feelings for dean, and then he gets immediately knocked up. stunning.

it would ALSO be extremely fun for it to be some kind of... i don't know, magical longer gestation times, whatever, but for cas to have gotten pregnant sometime in s5 and only realized during the Year Of Lisa. LOVE to watch a man rake leaves while both metaphorically carrying the taint of taboo sexual feelings for him and literally carrying his child.

but the thing about season six is, first of all, cas isn't really... envisioning a future with dean. not the way he does in the later seasons. like does he fantasize about a future with dean? yes. like. he really did watch that motherfucker rake leaves. but it's only fantasy. he expected to never speak to dean again after swan song until dean prayed to him in the third man. he's obsessed with dean, but it's distant. remote.

like, we talk about cas babytrapping dean in the later seasons with jack, and he absolutely does, and he would do it even more if dean got him literally pregnant, but that babytrap is about... how do i put this. it's about winning dean's affection. late seasons cas knows that he's going to die by dean's side. the difference that babytrapping dean makes is that maybe it will get dean to be nice to him in the mean time, instead of discarding him like so much toilet paper.

but season six cas doesn't think of it like that. if he were gonna babytrap dean, it would be in the more traditional sense of forcing dean to stay with him in order to raise their child together. and he would never do that. he wants dean to have a happy future, which in his mind does not include him. like, compare here "he's retired and he's to stay that way" in the man who would be king, where cas assumes that dean is happy without him and expects him to live out his days peacefully without ever seeing him again, to "i'm the one who's going to have to watch you murder the world" in the prisoner, where cas assumes that he will be by dean's side for centuries.

but anyway, the other, much more important problem with season six is that cas has a war to fight. like, in the later seasons, cas really has nothing. even when he's on tenuous good terms with the angels, he doesn't really have a home with them. the winchesters are his family, and he'd give up anything for them. he has nothing in his life. he's at rock bottom, and this becomes truer the further along you go. late seasons cas has nothing he would prioritize over serving the winchesters, and he would be happy dropping anything he was involved in to have and raise dean's baby. parenting would give him a purpose that he no longer has, because everything else has been stripped from him.

but in season six cas has a life outside of them. like yes, he has a war to fight, but he also has a place in heaven, with the other angels. he belongs somewhere, he has solid connections to the outside world. even if he didn't have a war to fight, i don't know how excited he would be to have and raise a baby (even dean's baby) because he simply has other things he could be doing. he's involved in the world beyond the winchesters.

like, the reason cas wants to be a parent is that he is totally alone and totally purposeless. having a child gives him both a reason for being and someone who will always love him and who he can care for. if he doesn't have that hole in his life he might not be so eager to fill it with a baby.

for all these reasons, this plotline really doesn't work in season six, because you simply cannot justify cas not getting an abortion, unless you do something nasty like make angel abortion impossible, which i don't love.

you COULD somehow put the impregnation just at the end of season six, maybe just before the man who would be king, such that cas doesn't realize he's pregnant until he's already godstiel. you guys are unfortunately very aware of how obsessed i am with pregnant godstiel.

actually, @jeanne-de-valois has a concept of like. a single, madness fueled midnight hookup immediately pre-tmwwbk (or maybe even during, but prior to the superman mistake), where cas is simultaneously so stressed from being stretched so thin from the war and the lying and the shady dealings, and so high on being The Big Man In Heaven, that he's bold and out of his mind enough to actually come onto dean, like he just appears one night in dean's bedroom and is like, fuck me, and dean is like 👁👄👁 okay. so they have one single adrenaline and madness fueled hookup, and then everything immediately goes to shit.

and i think that's a great place for cas to get pregnant, and then he doesn't realize until he's become god, or maybe he does and he's just like "i'll deal with it later," either way godstiel is like oh? i carry dean's heir inside me? i will have dean's baby. i will have dean's baby it is my right and also my boon to him and also a symbol of my great and magnanimous love for humanity. and also maybe i will put giant paintings of myself pregnant with his child up in churches. what about that. which would be fun. don't know when he would give birth though. actually it would be insane if he gave birth as emmanuel and was just like. raising dean's nephil when dean found him again. nuts. but it just doesn't really have the same flavor as late seasons mpreg. doesn't compel me nearly as much. like the symbolism of godstiel being pregnant with dean's child is fun and sexy but them actually raising the kid afterwards doesn't compel me nearly as much, so it's better to leave literal mpreg to the later seasons and let godstiel mpreg reside in symbolism and fantasy.

or maybe the fetus gets stolen by the leviathans when cas walks into the lake and dean has to battle his leviathanated nephil daughter as the main villain of s7. like she's dick roman's secret weapon. i think that would be fun, actually. kind of an emma situation but drawn out over the whole season. and he thinks cas is dead for most of it so she's all he's got left of cas and a mess cas left for him to clean up. big sexy.

and as a bonus, i will also tell you the best time, imo, for dean to get pregnant: near the end of season eight. possibly a single, tragic farewell fuck in sacrifice when cas is planning to lock himself away in heaven and they're never gonna see each other again. and this impregnates dean with cas' nephil.

but then cas is human. and he can't do anything about it. like generally if they managed to get dean pregnant somehow, cas would immediately talk him into an abortion (which wouldn't be too hard; dean's natural white midwestern man who doesn't vote aversion to abortion would be at war with the horror of being pregnant, and the horror would win), or might not even inform dean that he's pregnant, and just quietly end the pregnancy without dean's knowledge, because cas would never put dean through that. but if cas is human, he can't do that. and furthermore, that nephil is the last evidence of his angelic nature that persists. it's the last of what he used to be, the last of his grace. and there's something absolutely delectable about that.

then of course dean would have to leave the bunker if he was pregnant with a nephil, because angels would be after him, and he wouldn't want to lead them to gadreel, so i am imagining dean discovering that he's pregnant and then showing up in a panic at the gas n sip like "actually cas i'm also out of the bunker will you go on the run with me?" and then they go on the run and have to live in motels again and cas gets to live with take care of dean who is pregnant with his child which is essentially his dream, and he doesn't have to feel guilty because he's no longer capable of giving dean an abortion so he doesn't feel obligated to get him to have one. ideally cas gets re-angeled just in time to give dean an angelic c-section. or maybe they rely on a normal human c-section in a hospital and cas stays human and they are two humans raising their nephil, which is also fun to me.

[separatist-apologist]

Listen…There’s so so little HelionxLoA smut out there🤧🤧 so naturally I came to the Queen of Vanserra/Spellcleaver writing to request literally anything you want to write for them, I just need content about them cause all we have is CRUMBS😭🤧

love your writing boo have a wonderful day💕

Look, if you think you can show up in my ask box demanding Helion content you are absolutely right. Honestly, more of this please. We could put Helion in ALL KINDS of positions, I know he'd be up for it.

Anyway, this is NSFW, 18+, edited with my hands tied behind my back.

--

--

Helion pulled himself out of the gleaming pool of salt water, blinded by the overhead sun. Meeting, meetings, meetings, he thought despondently, wrapping a towel around his waist. What good was being the High Lord if your time still wasn’t your own? Helion wanted to float in sunlight until his skin burned. He wanted to float until he felt nothing but oblivion, until he was one with the world.

Instead he’d sit at his desk and a stack of papers while emissary’s for whatever boring High Lord wanted to talk to him droned on and on about trade routes and taxes. Helion had hoped to never be High Lord, had hoped the magic might skip him entirely and then Amarantha, the cunt, fucked that all up.

Not that Helion didn’t still indulge, of course. Just not as often as he would have liked.

His bare feet smacked against the marble, still slippery from the water and he smirked at a gentleman who glanced at the towel hanging from his hips. He knew what they were wondering. What was beneath? Nothing, he thought with relish.

“Give me twenty minutes,” Helion told one of his advisors as he made his way towards his bedroom. “Who is waiting?”

“An emissary from Autumn, High Lord.”

Helion rolled his eyes. “Give me an hour, then,” he replied with a relish. It hardly punished Beron, given he’d sent one of his simpering, spineless courtiers in his stead and yet Helion still could not help but be petty. Let the courtier go back to Autumn and complain about Helion’s lack of time for them. Perhaps one day Beron would take the hint.

He flung open his bedroom door with a relish, intending to bathe and, afterwards, take a nap. Maybe eat after that, read a few chapters of his book and then, if he felt like it, hear out whatever Beron wanted.

Helion froze in place, eyes huge, hand still on the doorknob behind him. The Lady of Autumn, his lady, Amera, stood in the middle of the room wearing nothing but a flimsy, cotton shift that did absolutely nothingto hide her body from him.

This is a dream, his mind shouted. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d imagined her standing in his bedroom with those russet eyes filled with wanting. He reached for his side and pinched hard, waiting to see her dissolve into nothingness.

She took a step forward. “You’re not imagining things,” she told him, her voice somehow prettier than he remembered. He rubbed his jaw; aware he must look half insane standing as he was. Helion, unable to put together words, at least managed to lock the door behind him. Had he said an hour? Autumn’s courtier would go home unanswered.

“How?” He asked, fisting his hands at his sides. His eyes drifted towards her pert breasts, the rosy nipples stark against the near transparent fabric.

Her eyes sparked with amusement. “You haven’t heard?”

Helion’s knees began to shake as a smile spread across her beautiful face. “Eris is High Lord, now.”

“How?”

Mischief replaced her amusement. “How, indeed.”

“So you’re…” He couldn’t get the word out, couldn’t bring himself to say it only to be rebuffed. Centuries of waiting, of wanting, of yearning and now Helion needed her to say it.

“Yours?” She supplied. Finally, his body worked and Helion, unable to stand it a moment longer, surged towards his lady and yanked her into his arms. He meant to kiss her but his legs gave way and Helion knelt before her instead, hugging her middle.

“Stay,” he begged like he’d done many, many times before. She carded her fingers through his wet, tangled hair. “Please stay.”

“For how long?” She responded and Helion couldn’t believe it was real. It wasn’t really happening. He was dehydrated, still floating in the pool, fantasizing like he so often did. He squeezed her body, his hands taking on a life of their own as they began to slide the long shift up her thin legs.

“Forever,” he choked, catching the scent of her arousal before he hand the shift anywhere close to her cunt. She chucked over him, as though the scene unfolding amused her.

“Is that all?” She asked him and Helion growled, pressing his mouth against her thigh.

“No,” he replied, ripping the fabric bunched in his hands. She gasped but Helion would shred everything she brought from Autumn, every article of clothing, every pretty memento and, in time, every bad memory. He stood, ripping his way up to the neckline while she looked up at him with clear eyes. He’d forgotten how little she was in comparison and the urge to protect her flared to life.

She slid the sleeves of the now ruined undergarment to the floor, never breaking eye contact. “Is it as you remember?” She asked him, pressing a hand to his hard chest. He swallowed hard because no, she wasn’t as he remembered. Too thin, too pale…he could fix that.

“Better,” he said instead, sucking air in sharply when she pulled the knot out of his towel, letting the fabric drop to the floor. She cocked her head to the side, red curls spilling down her back. A smile curved over her pretty, red lips and Helion almost let her sink to her knees in front of him.

“No,” he all but snarled, catching her by the elbows. “Absolutely not.”

She frowned, opening her mouth to protest and while Helion would have liked nothing more than to feel her mouth around him again, he would have her body, or he would have nothing at all. He scooped her up, reveling in the feel of her bare skin against his own and swallowed any protest she might have offered with his lips. He felt fevered, hungry, and desperate for the female he spread delicately across his bed of white and gold.

He stopped his kissing just long enough to position himself on the bed, half covering her body with his own. She tasted exactly as he remembered, like roasted chestnuts and bright, sun washed apples and Helion was lost. He ran a broad hand up her thigh and over her stomach, over and over, reveling in the feel of her soft skin beneath his calloused hands.

Helion’s cock ached even before she reached between them and began to stroke. He groaned against her cheek, his eyes rolling back into his skull. Had anything ever felt so good? “Let me touch you,” she murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his neck.

“I want to touch you,” he replied, settling a knee between her legs as he cradled her face in his hand. “I want to taste you.”

She sighed sweetly, shaking her head back and forth as though the whole thing were infinitely funny and not something Helion had been thinking about for practically his entire life. Three centuries. That’s how long it had been since he’d last touched her, tasted her…really spoke to her. He’d heard her offer him forever, but Helion couldn’t quite believe it. Their time was always numbered, always stolen in between hiding from Beron and he’d learned to take what he could before she vanished again.

He needed her to feel good, to think about his skin against hers, his mouth, his everything. He needed her to miss him the way he missed her.

“Why not both?” She asked a moment before he caught one of her rosy nipples between his teeth, breathing hot air against her breast as he teased gently. Her eyes fluttered shut and her hips bucked gently, rubbing against his thigh. The radiating heat was enough to almost convince Helion to abandon his plan of slow seduction in favor of rough, near animalistic fucking. Next time, he swore, not convinced there would be a next time. He needed to hear her scream his name so loud Rhysand and Thesan would hear over the border.

Down, down, down, he slid, his tongue trailing a path over her pale, freckled skin. He parted her thighs as her breath caught overhead and Helion thought he might cry at the sight of her, spread out like his favorite meal. Mine, you are mine—

He brushed his thumb over her wet, pink opening, delighted when her whole body seemed to quiver at the touch. He ground himself into the mattress in an attempt to alleviate the ache building but rationally, the only thing that would satisfy him was her clenched around him.

“Helion,” she gasped overhead, the sexiest thing he’d ever heard in his life. He wanted to hear her say it again. He took his thumb and rubbed an excruciatingly slow circle over her quivering clit as he watched over. Her back arched in response, her eyes flying open.

“Helion, please,” she begged this time. Not enough, he thought to himself, circling again, a smile curved over his lips.

She screamed softly with frustration, her eyes locked with his. Beautiful, so fucking beautiful—

“Helion!”

That was good, he decided, in part because he was also desperately wanted to taste the arousal he could smell. He dropped his head and licked, replacing his finger as Amera fisted her hand in his hair.

“Better,” she half-gasped. “Please don’t stop.”

As if he could. He’d just begun besides, intoxicated off the sweet, musky taste of her arousal. Wet, he thought, his tongue sliding back down her cunt towards the opening he very much planned to be in just as soon as she came in his mouth. She was so damn wet it was driving him insane.

He couldn’t resist sliding his tongue into her body, his nose rubbing against her clit, to fuck her with his mouth. She writhed overtop him, her slick coating his face in the most satisfying way. To Helion, he felt the wet like a brand upon his skin, a warning to any other who might come near him.

Yours, I’m yours—

Back to her clit, his tongue skilled, his fingers parting her so he could have more, all of her. Helion was greedy and always had been. He hated the thought of sharing, of only getting the pieces she could give. Everything was available to him now.

He wanted it all.

“Helion,” she gasped again, her thighs clenching around his face. Helion smiled, his mouth moving faster, methodically, exactly the way he remembered. Her hands tightened in his hair, pulling almost painfully to hold him exactly where he was. Her hips bowed off the bed the same moment a scream ripped through the pulsating silence, his name mingled somewhere between. He didn’t stop, riding her through and, perhaps, hopeful she’d let him keep going.

She yanked hard, demanding him to come back to her. He’d intended to slide himself right in, anticipation warm in his stomach but it was clear Amera had other thoughts. She sat up quickly, her eyes liquid flame, and pushed him to the bed before he could do little more than exhale.

She straddled him without a hint of hesitation, positioning the head of his cock over her dripping pussy. Helion cried out when she sank down quickly, taking every inch of him all at once. His eyes snapped open as she began to rock, her breasts bouncing in his line of view.

He was tense, taut with burning desire. It was all too much and Helion knew he wasn’t going to be able to drag it out the way he’d wanted to. She was so tight it felt like a second skin. It was all Helion could do but hold her hips, his fingers grazing the swell of her ass.

She dug her nails into his chest hard enough she was close to drawing blood. She remembered, he thought in a daze. He liked that edge of pain, the feral part of fucking that left gouges in his skin as a reminder of what they’d done. He couldn’t bring himself to bruise her skin, not when he knew she’d spent centuries hiding them. She could hurt him however she liked but Helion could not hurt her at all.

“Come for me,” he begged, so close he was hanging by a thread. He was counting in his head, trying to prevent himself from spilling though electricity hummed through his veins, urging him to let go and give in to the building heat that had settled in his sac. “Please, Amera—”

She came again, the walls of her cunt fluttering around him with intensity. He lost his control, roaring so loud he knew the Autumn emissary knew why he was waiting. His muscles locked for a moment as release poured out of him, his warm come spilling from her pussy back down his shaft to pool on the sheets below them.

He reached for her, still sheathed within her, and kissed her roughly, desperately. This had always been the part where she left him and Helion couldn’t help his terror. Don’t leave me, he begged silently. Stay.

She caressed his face, smiling as she looked down at his face. “You shouldn’t keep Eris waiting.”

“Let him,” Helion replied, his voice hoarse. “I’ve waited long enough.”

“I’m not leaving,” she promised but Helion crushed her to his chest all the same.

Forever wasn’t long enough.

[numptypylon]

Epilogue

I added a short epilogue to Reunion and Intersection today, but I also wrote a much longer one, full of fluffy comfort, to get through the angst-writing in the first two chapters. It’s unedited, unfinished and ridiculously self-indulgent, and I don’t think it really goes with the story, so I elected to not post it, but I’m attaching it here, under the cut, for those interested. Keep in mind it’s a reject for a reason though; this is what my writing looks like in the explorative phase where I’m looking for the point, and in this case I didn’t really find it XD

~2K under the readmore

Callum got there early. A lot of people eyed him warily, but a letter from Queen Janai was a good smoother-of-grumpy-elf-tempers.

No-one had seen Rayla, so… she was probably not here yet.

He went to the inn, bought a large room, lit a roaring fire in there, activating the Sunfire rock he used to keep warm at night under the covers of the bed, and calling for the tub to be filled. It had the usual Skywing heating arrangement, only needing a good Fulminis to heat the water.

He resisted flying out to find her. He risked missing her again, and her leaving town before he got back.

It was about… hitting the point of intersection.

So, he waited at the city gates. He didn’t have to wait nearly as long as he expected, considering the distance she would have had to traverse. Maybe she had recovered and had travelled faster than he thought.

It was definitely her though. A small, lone figure on the mountainside.

He intended to wait for her until she got to him, but then she stopped to lean against a tree and he realized that she had not recovered and was up there sick in the snow… and that resolve evaporated like it had never been.

Like he would ever let her struggle alone a moment longer than she needed to.

 **

 It was a measure of her exhaustion that she didn’t notice him until he was basically right in front of her, and even then, her reaction was so much slower than usual.

It still… it was hard to believe it was real. For her too, surely more so.

He numbly pulled his scarf off, packing it around her neck and head. He grazed her cheek and felt it and she felt it and… she felt it, because the tears that had built up in her eyes spilled over at his touch, slipping down her dirty and flushed cheeks.

She looked ready to drop, and felt it too, when he put his arms around her and her disbelief gave way to relief. Whatever ridiculous level of stubbornness had kept her upright for the last day and night of walking through snow and up mountains when she should have been in bed… fell away and she slumped almost completely in his arms.

She sobbed hoarsely for a bit, and he let her.

And she let him, when his hand cupped the back of her head and her hair tickled his fingers and it hit him too that… it was really real, she was here.

They needed to… get to the inn though, so he pulled away and wiped his face. They could… and probably would… have a longer cry and a longer hug later. But she was sick and cold and there was a roaring fire and a filled bathtub two minutes of flight away.

“Let’s go,” he said. “I knew you were coming this way and that you were sick. And I booked a room for… you.” For them both, he hoped, but-

“What?” she blubbered. “But… aren’t… aren’t you mad?”

“I mean, of course I am, but… that’s not really… that can wait.”

“I’m…” she laughed weakly, more tears spilling over. “I’m so happy to see you and there’s… so many things I would like to say and… and I’m such a mess right now and so tired and I’m just… I’m so tired I cried earlier just because a stupid pine branch hit me in the face and knocked me off my sled and it continued down the mountain without me and I’d have to walk instead and-“

“Hey, hey!” He stroked down her flushed, wet cheeks, along fresh scratches where presumably that branch had hit her. Sledding, huh… she always was extremely resourceful and oh so daring. And that explained how she got here so fast. “Rayla, it’s okay. You can rest first. I’ll take care of things… of you. For as long as you want me to, but… definitely for the next few days.”

“How c-can you… are you… here-”

He leant his head against her forehead, relishing in the feeling of contact, even if her skin was clammy and too-hot. “That’s… complicated,” he said. “And also simple. You called me here. I came.”

“Manis. Pluma. Volantis.”

 **

 She staggered, when they set down, steadying herself on his shoulder, and Callum was glad he had elected to land in front of the inn instead of at the city gates.

She definitely wasn’t well yet, her breath rasping in her throat, her forehead beading with sweat, cheeks and ears flushed. The fever had maybe broken, but it hadn’t quite left. And she was exhausted, trembling with the effort of staying upright, her eyes dull and glassy.

People were staring, when they went inside, but the innkeeper came over and recommended the soup of the day, and their house-made herbal tea blend with Sky Yak milk, and assured them it would be brought to their room shortly, with a look of very obvious sympathy at Rayla.

And then the door shut behind them.

“I owe-” she started, but he cut her right off.

“No. You’re owed,” he said tightly.

“Owed what?” She sounded… nervous.

“Soup. Hot tea. A warm bed and a fire someone else made. General fussing. Love. Forgiveness. Kindness. A damn break, for once.”

“L-love?”

“Yeah, love.”

Her clumsy fingers fumbled at the clasps of her armor. They were still ice cold when he touched them, the skin red and no-doubt sore.

But she for once didn’t resist any help he gave, sinking gratefully into the tub he had prepared. A warm bath was possibly not great for her fever, but… it was pros and cons and he needed to warm up her hands and feet.

She was barely conscious when he helped her back out of the tub, so he just put her down on a towel on the bed, drying her hair as best he could. He at least managed to get her awake to pull off her own wet underwear and pull his clean night shirt over her head.

 **

 “Callum?” she asked, because… she wanted things, and she could have them. “Stay with me? Please.”

He pressed against her back, warm and real.

His hands engulfed hers, big and soft and familiar.

Full of real little details that her brain hadn’t accurately recreated.

The callus at the side of his right index finger, from his charcoal pencil. The scar from a clumsy sparring accident at the second knuckle.

His voice when he said her name and when he told her it was okay.

His kinda… snuffling non-snoring sleep-sound.

And new things, that she hadn’t known to add.

His arms, still skinny, but stronger than they had been.

His too-long hair flopping over his ears.

And things she had yet to find out.

 **

 “Morning-“ she muttered, as she woke, feeling warm. And her throat felt a lot better, too and most of that sticky, gross fever feeling was gone, although there was still some sluggish daze, everything just a bit vaguer and floatier than it should have been.

“Afternoon,” Callum corrected lightly, but there was something not so light underneath. “You slept for… 14 hours. I bet you’re hungry.”

“I bet… you were worried.” That was a long time to worry and not wake her to assuage it but just sit in it, watching her sleep.

She reached out to stroke his furrowed brow. Her hands were bandaged though, so she couldn’t touch him properly. She didn’t remember, but did recall something about Callum saying he had called a doctor, and then she must have conked out pretty hard and slept through it.

She clenched and released her hands experimentally. Seemed alright except for being stiff and sore?

“What’s wrong with me?” she asked, staring down at the thick bandages.

“Except for the illness that nearly killed you because you’re such a massive dummy? Lots of things.” He took her hands, starting to unwind the bandages. “For your hands, hopefully only frostnip. I’m supposed to check that, when you woke, take you back to the doctor if there’s signs of deeper frostbite.”

There was some thick ointment, probably the reason for the bandages. Her hands looked reddened, the fingers a bit swollen, but… not so bad. Nothing was white or black or blistered, so really, nothing to worry about, where frostbite was concerned.

Callum wasn’t satisfied with a visual inspection though, cupping her hands in his, methodically checking she could feel all her fingers and make a full fist.

“I think it’s okay,” he said, breathing out, relieved. He did tend to catastrophize- “No… no risk of amputation this time-” His fingers slid across her left wrist, the faint whitened scars from where the binding had dug into her skin and where the sunforge blade had burnt her.

“It’s definitely okay,” she said. “Barely hurts.” She cupped his face, feeling his skin just fine against her fingertips. “It’s not like back then, okay?”

“How do you feel today?”

“Better. Way better. I’m ready to go, if-”

“What?!” He stared at her in disbelief. “Absolutely not. You didn’t hear what the doctor said. But I did, she got here while you were sleeping. And absolutely not.”

“What-“ Was it not just a regular bug?

He breathed, slowly and deliberately. “You’re okay, it’s a regular winter infection going around. But you did a number on your own immune system with the hypothermia and mountain climbing and… she said you were undernourished, dehydrated, stressed and critically exhausted. And that you would do well to take a week or more to fully recover, during which you should eat and rest plenty, stay warm and keep stress down. Does that sound like your regular travel, to you?”

Well… not so much.

“So, I’ll ask again, how do you feel today?”

“Tired,” she sighed. “My hands are stiff and achy. My throat hurts. My legs are wobbly. My head feels full of snot.” She smiled, despite all that. “My heart is happy to see you. It’s okay if you’re- I know… that it’s complicated.”

“It is. We have… some things to talk about. Promise you won’t leave until we do?”

“I promise.”

“Okay. Then, I think we should put the complicated things away for a few days. Until you’re better and it doesn’t hurt your throat to talk. Because… we have a lot of talking to do.”

“You don’t… need to stay. For those few days. If it’s hurting you to-”

He sighed heavily. “It does.” Yeah, he couldn’t say that it didn’t. Being around her with so much… unresolved. She didn’t want that for him. She didn’t… want to have those long and hard conversations right now either, when she was still tired and fevered and liable to burst into tears at the slightest provocation. “But it would hurt me more to leave. Didn’t it hurt you? To leave?”

“Yeah.” So, so much.

He reached out to pack his scarf around her throat more closely, the soft, warm knit a soothing feeling against the raw ache.

“Lie down, okay? Be sick? I’ll read you a story. It has murder and dismemberment in it, I asked the innkeeper specifically.”

[softliebgott]

PICADILLY LILIES — Bill Guarnere

Hi! Can you write something fluffy with Guarnere? Maybe with the prompt “Let’s just stay here. I don’t ever want to move”. Thank you so much ♥️ (I love your writing) - Anonymous

Masterlist + Taglist + a playlist for you and Guarno gonorrhea

I listened to “I Put A Spell On You” by Annie Lennox while writing this. So this turned...a little indecent 👀

@tvserie-s-world @general-taylor @mgdln97 @gottapenny @morgan108 @thegermansarebad @snafus-peckuh @wexhappyxfew @scarecrowmax @ineffablewants @junojelli @inglourious-imagines @sunflowerchuck @alienoresimagines @fandomscenariosforyou @ray--person @noneofurbusinez @keoghans @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @mrseasycompany @vintagelavenderskies @mrsalwayswrite @meteora-fc @order-of-river-phoenix @stressedinadress @50svibes @thoughpoppiesblow @now-im-a-belieber @chickenstrippers666

IN ALDBOURNE the civilians were tickled pink to see the boys, and you and Bill were happy as hell to be alive. After D-Day, the flow of patients increased, and your position as a nurse was revised. Your ‘relative’ rank changed into a ‘full commissioned’ status. Moreover, you and the girls had to cope with inadequate supplies and lack of adapted Theater clothing. Nurses came under fire, others were taken prisoner, and many had narrow escapes. Deaths were unavoidable. The Army Nurse Corps worked closer to the front lines than they had ever before. The war was your personal paralysis demon, and it terrified you. 

You and Bill planned to use your seven-day passes as if they were your last.

“Two hundred green ones,” Bill said, counting his handful. “This is more than a South Philly kid has ever had in his hands.”

You pinned his ribbons and medals to his new uniform. “What are you gonna do with it?”

He folded the bills and tucked them into his breast pocket. “Send most of it back to my ma.” He shook his head. “Jesus, I miss makin’ ravioli with her.” 

“You don’t tell me enough stories about her.”

“Stories, stories.” He rocked his head side to side. “I dunno how to tell ya enough.”

You pouted your lips. You loved his stories as much as the boys. They helped distract you from the memories on the line, and kept your affection for him as strong as the moon’s light in darkness.

“Alright, cookie,” he said, softening. “You ever hear of Sophie Turner? Mom is like her; big, short, and plump. She sings and smokes. An absolute angel. I’d make a quarter from selling coffee for a nickel a piece, give it to mom, and she got so excited. She’d go play the numbers with it, and hope to double it.”

Smiling, you finished with his decorations and grasped his tie to pull yourself against him. He drew in a breath. You angled your head back to meet his eyes. His pupils had dilated. Your touch always disarmed him. “Think I’ll get to meet her someday?” You asked.

“Are you kiddin’? That ain’t even a question. Hasn’t been since I met you.”

“You mean that?”

He raised his brow. “You take me for a kidder?”

“I wouldn’t want her to dislike me.”

“Hell, if she don’t I’ll run away to the sticks with ya.” Bill gripped your hips. “But I doubt she’ll raise an eyebrow when she sees you.”

You reached your arms around his neck, balancing on your toes, and fit your lips to the crook of his neck. “I adore that you already think ahead for us,” you murmured. Your warm breath caused goosebumps to prickle along his skin.

He embraced you in a strapping hold, molding you against him. Both of your uniform decorations pressed uncomfortably to your bodies, but neither of you minded. It was more of a stimulation. Tighter, so I can feel how painfully you love me. “Nothin’ keeps more me more sane.” He loosened his hold, letting you fully stand back on your feet. His hands rested on your neck and he rubbed his thumb along your jaw. He leaned down, and you closed your eyes, lips parted and willing. He pressed his mouth to yours, hotter than a glowing cigarette, as if he needed a part of you to breathe himself. It was deep and impatient enough that you both felt each other’s teeth.

You always hated it when he pulled away, but you reminded yourself you had the next seven days with him to eat each other alive.

He said, “Let’s go raise hell.”

In London, everyone knew the boys were just in combat. They knew they killed people, and the Londoners expressed their fear almost as proudly as their opinion on tea. No one messed with the boys.

However...

Americans made three or four more times the pay than the English soldiers did, plus the extra fifty bucks jump pay. Bill and the boys threw their money away at the pubs. They’d slap a ten on the bar, look like big spenders, and impress the girls. Most of the time those were the girls of the English soldiers, and because of that a fever of brawls broke out. You and the boys raised Cain in London.

You drank, danced, and laughed yourself dizzy with Bill. Like the boys with the British girls, you and Bill openly showcased your affections. Whether it be a hard hand gripping your rear, or pulling you onto his lap to satiate his need to taste the alcohol on your tongue.

On the last night of your pass, it was late and you and Bill couldn’t find a place to sleep.

“I’ll get us a place to sleep,” he said. He held your hand as the two of you ran the streets like forbidden, lovestruck high school sweethearts. He took you to a USO club, but there were no beds left.

“Watch this.” Bill went to the door. Breathless, you hid your grin behind your hand and tried not to let loose your drunken giggles. He yelled, “Fire!”

Everyone burst out as if hell was on their heels, and Bill snagged your hand and slipped inside with you. You squeaked as he swiftly scooped you into his arms like a new bride. Drunk as sixteen skunks, you pried your heels off with your toes, and indulged in messy, salacious kisses with Bill. Despite having as many drinks as you both did, tasting each other made you more dizzily intoxicated.

He collapsed onto a bed, his weight pinning you. You started to desperately remove each other’s clothes, and Bill slinked down to kiss your legs, but stopped when you made a frustrated whine. He looked up to you. “Whassamatter?”

Face mangled with childlike sadness, you said, “I can’t undo my buttons. I’m stuck.”

“Lemme give it a go.” Bill climbed up to you and fumbled with the buttons on your uniform jacket. He acted as if the buttons were as slippery as a bar of soap. “Fuckin’, fuckin...shoot my ass and call me Betty! God damn!” He fell onto you in defeat, and your laughter brought tears to your eyes. 

It took you a while to calm down and catch your breath, but Bill didn’t mind. With your arms around him, he loved feeling the vibrations from your body and listening to your laugh. If there was anything he’d actually get more drunk on, it was your happiness. He snaked his arms around your backside and nuzzled your chest with his cheek. “Let’s just stay here,” he said sleepily. “I don’t ever wanna to move.”

You stroked your fingertips along his face, lulling him to slumber. I wish we could, you thought. We got war waiting. You tried to keep your eyes open to prolong this nightlife, but you were too at peace. Bill’s little snores betrayed your attempt, and you fell asleep.

[seijorhi]

How about a lil overhaul? Maybe his s/o is just someone from america on a trip and cant speak japanese. But he is like. Mine. She was quirkless and was coming to visit Japan to see a family member. Maybe that family member sold her to overhaul to pay off a debt? She is just so confused and cant understand most of the people here, she wants to go back to America.

So I kinda went a little off track with this request, but I hope you like it!

Overhaul x Reader

TW kidnapping, murder, minor blood/gore

Collateral

It’s a bit of a surprise the day that you get your ticket in the mail. You’ve never been particularly close with your uncle. It’s not that you don’t like him or anything, it’s just… you don’t really know him. He’s lived on the other side of the Pacific Ocean since long before you were born, and you’ve only met him face to face a handful of times. 

And now he wants you - just you - to come stay with him for a little while. As long as you want, the return ticket’s flexible, the email says.

Your family’s just as flummoxed as you, he and your dad have never exactly been close - something about a big fallout when they were younger, but he’s the one to convince you to go. 

“Your uncle hasn’t exactly had the easiest life, sweetheart. He’s all alone over there, has been for a long, long time and he’s made a lot of bad decisions in the past but… you’re his only niece,” he sighs, cupping your cheek with a sad smile. “Maybe he wants a fresh start, to build a relationship with you - he’s missed so much of your life.”

It’s not so much his words that get to you, but the wistful look in his eyes as he says them. Your heart aches for him, for them both, and you find yourself nodding along.

A trip to Japan sounds nice. 

Getting to know your uncle sounds even nicer.

A week later, you’re on the plane flying over the Pacific, the nerves in your stomach growing with each mile that passes beneath you. 

It’ll be fine, you reason, smoothing the non-existent wrinkles from your skirt as the plane starts its descent into Tokyo. Things might be a little awkward at first, but your uncle wouldn’t have invited you if he didn’t want to make a genuine effort, and your parents were only a phone call away if anything went wrong. 

Not that anything would. He’s family - that means something.

“If it gets too much, you can always come home,” your dad had whispered as you bid him farewell at the gate. 

But when you get off the plane, grab your luggage and make your way out through the gate, there’s no sign of your uncle standing in the crowd. You frown, scanning the arrivals hall again - he called your parents yesterday to tell them he’d be picking you up from the airport.

A flutter of uneasiness teases at your gut, but you force yourself to keep the smile on your face as you continue to scour the throng of waiting friends and family. You did land a little ahead of schedule, and getting through customs had taken less time than you thought, maybe he was just running late, or trying to find a park. Your uncle had given you a phone number to call if anything went wrong but… you don’t want to come across as panicky. It’s only been a few minutes, after all.

You’re so focused on trying to find him that you almost miss the crisply dressed driver holding a sign with your name just by the sliding doors. He doesn’t say anything when you approach cautiously, eyes still darting around like you’re expecting to see your uncle behind him. He doesn’t look like what you expected - not that you were expecting a driver at all - but the clearly expensive black suit and blank stare as he regards you are a little… off putting, to say the least. From your understanding your uncle wasn’t exactly made of money, so why send a driver at all?

“Um, hi… I’m Y/N, did my uncle send you? I-is he not coming?” you say, praying that the man understands English and you’re not making an idiot out of yourself.

The driver nods sharply, “He was unable to collect you himself.”

Oh. 

Your smile falters just a touch, but you find yourself nodding out of politeness. It’s fine. You have all the time in the world to spend with your uncle. “Oh, alright. Um-”

The driver grabs the suitcase from your side before you can stop him, turning abruptly on his heel and walking away, leaving you to rush after him, cheeks dusting pink.

Except the driver doesn’t take you to the small apartment on the outskirts of the city your uncle had told you about. 

***

You’ve never been more terrified in your life. 

It’s been a week, you think - it’s hard to tell when the room they keep you in doesn’t have any windows and the food they deliver doesn’t come at regular intervals.

A week since the driver pulled you shaking from the back seat of the black and manhandled you inside a dark warehouse. A week since you met him.

You still don’t know his name. 

He’s the boss - you’ve figured that much out at least. He was the one whose feet you were tossed at when you arrived - shaking, crying and pleading.

You can still remember the chill that crept up your spine as those impassive gold eyes stared at you, his mouth hidden behind that ridiculous plague mask. Sitting on an old, worn leather couch, dressed in all black save for the grey tie around his neck and the white surgical gloves on his hands, what startled you the most (aside from the mask) was how young he was - he couldn’t have been more than a year or so older than you at the most, and yet every single person in the warehouse was staring at him with the utmost respect.

He’d ignored your tears and the trembling questions that had fallen from your lips as he’d stood and walked a slow circle around you, eyes running you up and down like a vulture eyeing off its prey. He hadn’t touched you, only gesturing once for his subordinates to wrestle you back up into a standing position before he finished his apparent appraisal. 

When he’d spoken it was an order barked coldly in Japanese, but his eyes had flickered back to you as hands had gripped your arms, and in the split second before you were tugged from the room, you could have sworn that there was the faintest hint of dark pleasure shining through.

He’s come to visit you a few times since. He always keeps his distance, sitting on the sole chair in your sterile room as you huddled up on the bed like a frightened kitten, putting as much space between the two of you as possible. 

He seems to enjoy that; your fear. 

It’s the second time he comes to visit that he starts to talk to you - not in English, no, despite you making it abundantly clear you had absolutely no understanding of the language beyond a few conversational phrases, he only ever speaks Japanese.

He seems to enjoy that too - the blank, nervous look in your eyes whenever he starts to speak with you. His tone could be considered light and friendly, conversational almost, if not for the cruel edge to his words that transcends the language barrier - with every word he’s mocking you, and he wants you to know it.

The first time you leave your sterile room it’s when two of his masked entourage come to take you up into what looks like a surgical suite. There’s a man strapped to a gurney under a bright operating light sobbing, thrashing fruitlessly against his binds and immediately there’s a wave of dread that floods your stomach. The two men who took you hold you firmly in place by your shoulders, but you can’t help but jump a little when that familiar voice starts to speak.

He comes out of the shadows, golden eyes fixed solely on you. It’s a speech of some sort, though whether it’s for your benefit, his followers’ or the now screaming man’s before him you honestly don’t know. Sweat builds at your temple as the masked leader lifts his hands and slowly tugs off the white surgical gloves.

You don’t know what’s about to happen, only that you desperately want to stop it. One of the men behind you chuckles and you bite your lip to stifle a cry - there’s no point, you can’t move, you can’t escape this - whatever it is that’s about to happen.

The screams reach fever pitch, the man thrashing hard enough to make the gurney shake, but it doesn’t seem to make a difference. Your heart skips a beat as the auburn haired leader stares dispassionately down at him and with a sigh - places his bare palm against his flesh.

The result is instantaneous. 

The scream cuts off. Blood splatters over the walls, over you, as the man is simply, brutally, torn apart by the Quirk.

And all the while, the monster simply watches you.

You understand him perfectly this time. It’s a demonstration, a reminder of why one so young sits at the head of an illicit organisation and what exactly the punishment might be should you fail to remember that.

They take you for a shower afterwards, and you’ve never been more grateful for it. You scrub at your skin until it's raw, desperately trying to wash the taint of blood from your skin. It doesn’t seem to make a difference, it stays with you every time you close your eyes.

You cry yourself to sleep that night, clutching tightly at the thin, blanket you’d been given and thinking desperately of home and your family.

He’s sitting in the same plastic chair when you wake up, except this time it’s been pulled up right beside the bed. He regards you silently for a moment, watching as your eyes widen and fear slowly creeps across your features, but you don’t flinch, you don’t try and scamper away. You only pull the blanket up slightly, as if to protect what last vestiges of modesty you have from him.

“Do you know why you’re here?” he asks in flawless English.

You jerk back in surprise. He-

What?!

Of course he speaks English. Of course his continued insistence on speaking a language you didn’t understand was nothing more than a ploy to make you feel vulnerable and inferior. 

Utterly isolated.

A spark of anger flashes through you, but you quickly tamp it down, the memory of blood and disassembled body parts all too fresh in your mind.

He seems to be waiting for an answer to his question, so you give a minute nod. You’ve been here long enough to put the puzzle pieces together.

“Your uncle managed to rack up quite the impressive debt from us - a debt he couldn’t pay when it came due. He offered us you, his niece, instead. A pretty, young American girl, Quirkless… pure,” he sighs.

Each word hits you like a slap in the face and you can feel the unshed tears stinging in the corners of your eyes. It’s nothing you haven’t already figured out, but to be confronted with the truth, that your own flesh and blood (however estranged) had sold you out to save his skin, hurts more than you care to admit. 

Oblivious to your internal suffering, or maybe just indifferent to it, your captor continues. “I had planned on selling you. You’d be surprised what some of the degenerate filth in this city would be willing to pay for some beautiful, defenceless, foreign doll for them to stick their cocks into.”

Something close to amusement flickers in his eyes and he laughs as your face blanches in mute horror. He leans forward, gloved hands reaching for your face and you freeze with a choked gasp-

But he merely brushes at your cheek with the back of his knuckles, collecting a single stray tear that had slipped from your eyes without you even realising. “You don’t need to look so worried, Y/N. I thought you would have realised by now - you’re not going anywhere, you’re mine, and I’ve figured out a much better use for you.” It’s hard to tell with the gaudy mask obscuring half his face, but you could swear that beneath it all, your captor’s grinning. “My pretty little pet.”

[cuddlepilefics]

Aches and Pains

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Chan

Caregiver: Felix

Prompt: @sicktember

No one's POV.:

Chan had been in his studio all day. He hadn't been feeling well lately, slowly feeling the beginnings of a cold coming on. It wasn't too bad yet and afraid he'd be down with sickness unable to work for a few days, he wanted to get as much done as possible before it really hit. Having felt a bit chilled already, Chan had put on a thick sweater this morning and made sure the air conditioning in his studio was turned off. Convincing himself to get out of bed this morning had been a pain, quite literally. His muscles felt so sore, protesting the slightest movement. He had skipped breakfast, not really feeling like eating. Burying himself with work, he hadn't had lunch either, not that he had wanted to eat in the first place. His throat was so painfully dry, it felt like he had swallowed sand and no amount of water was able to sooth it. Dinnertime was approaching and he couldn't help but sigh when looking at the clock. He hadn't gotten as much done as he had wanted to. Spending most of the time squirming in his seat, as the ache made it impossible to find a comfortable position, he hadn't been able to focus on his work. Chan hadn't seen his members all day. Officially, they had the day off, so everyone else was still asleep when he left for the studio. Sure, he would've enjoyed a break too but he didn't know if he was really falling ill and in case he'd have to take some time off due to illness, he didn't want to miss too much time.

When Chan still wasn't back at the dorm for dinner, Felix texted him. It wasn't unusual for the leader to work late into the night but today wasn't a work day for Stray Kids and they hadn't seen their oldest all day. Though Felix' message had been delivered almost thirty minutes ago, the older had yet to read it. With his concern for his hyung growing, Felix tried calling Chan a few times but he never picked up. Knowing the leader hadn't felt his best lately, Felix threw on his coat and left the dorm. Worry was twisting his stomach as he made his way to the studio. Chan was always prone to overworking himself and though it wasn't unusual for him to turn his phone silent when he was working, the younger would have liked to at least talk to him to see how he was doing. Before he had left the dorm, he had checked their bathroom cabinet and found that they were running out of painkillers. Since Chan tended to get really bad headaches when he worked while sick, Felix stopped by a pharmacy on the way to pick up some more painkillers before continuing his walk. He couldn't stop his mind from running over all the worst-case scenarios of finding his hyung passed out in his studio. It wasn't like that had never happened before, which was why the dancer was unable to get that thought out of his head.

Chan on the other hand had given up on his work a few minutes ago. The screen in front of him had blurred before his eyes, making them water and his head pound. His headache wasn't the worst though. Chan felt so achy overall, that he didn't even find the strength to walk back to the dorm and take a warm shower to sooth them. After attempting to stretch his tense shoulders a bit, he had simply crossed his arms on his desk and rested his head on them, slowly drifting off to sleep. He didn't manage to fall asleep though, the pain all over his body keeping him awake. Groaning in pain, he sat up and rolled his shoulders before trying to get comfortable again. Just when he started to get drowsy, he heard the door click and forced himself to lift his head. Glancing at the door, he spotted Felix, who hesitantly made his way over to the desk. "Hey mate. We haven't seen you all day and you didn't answer your phone, so I thought I'd come over and check up on you", the younger greeted quietly. Chan only nodded, too out of it to really say anything. He just decided to lay his head on his arms and try to sleep again. Resting a hand on the leader's back, Felix whispered: "So, how are you doing?"

It was only now that Chan realized he was expected to answer. "Tired", he muttered, muffled by his arm in front of his face. "Yeah, I can imagine", the younger chuckled, "Let's go home, yeah?" The leader only groaned at that, seeming absolutely appalled by the idea. "No? What's wrong?", Felix frowned, pulling another chair close to sit down next to his hyung. Not lifting his head from his arms, Chan breathed: "Don't want to move, 'm too sore." At that, the younger frowned, getting back up to stand behind his friend's chair. He carefully ran his hands up and down the leader's back, feeling the tension in his hyung's shoulders. "Did you eat anything lately? I stocked up on painkillers, so if you already ate, you could take some", he mused, kneading Chan's shoulders only to receive a pained sound. Going back to just stroking his back for the fear of hurting him, Felix brushed his hand against the older's bare neck. His hyung was clearly running a fever now, which would totally explain why he felt so achy. "I didn't eat yet. My throat felt too dry", Chan admitted quietly, keeping his eyes closed. He knew his dongsaeng would be upset with him but he was too tired to care. Knowing that his scolding would fall on deaf ears, Felix only sighed: "Alright, I know that you don't want to move but we are going back to the dorm now. I'll make you some soup, which should be easy on your throat, and then you can take a nice warm shower to loosen up your muscles. You're running a fever, so I will not stop bothering you till you are home and resting."

Chan knew the younger wasn't messing around and he wouldn't give in unless Chan went back home. Gritting his teeth, the leader sat up and turned off his computer for good. Felix gave him a smile when he finally found the strength to get out of his chair, stretching in hopes it would make it easier for him to move. "Hyung, why did you work at all today? We had no schedule today, yet here you are, working while not feeling well", the dancer asked quietly, handing Chan his jacket. The older ran a hand through his hair, sighing: "I was worried about falling ill and not being able to keep up with our schedule." – "And you thought working yourself sick would make it better? It's okay to take a day off if you need a breather. If you're falling ill, overworking yourself will only end with you being ill for longer", Felix frowned, opening the door. Chan nodded in shame, keeping his gaze on the floor as they made their way out of the building. The younger wordlessly linked their arms. He felt bad for his hyung, yet he couldn't understand why the older never learned. Chan had been in the exact same position multiple times, yet he never allowed himself to rest.

"How about you take a warm shower and by the time you're done, I'll have some soup ready for you", Felix smiled when they made it back to the dorm, "Afterwards you can take your painkillers and I'll go find the heating pad, so we can try and see if we can soothe some of the aches, hm?" – "It's fine, Lix. As you said, it's our day off. You don't need to take care of me", Chan mumbled quietly, stumbling as he tried to kick off his shoes. "It's no biggie, I've taken care of you before and let's not talk about all the times you've take care of me or rather all of us", the younger laughed, helping the leader out of his jacket as his shoulders were too stiff to take it off. Feeling too tired to argue, Chan just nodded and shuffled to his room. After picking out some comfortable clothes, he made his way to the bathroom to shower. The warm water felt amazing on his sore muscles and it took him a while of just standing there till he found the energy to wash his hair, wincing as he had to lift his arms.

Just like he had promised, there was a steaming bowl of soup on the dinner table and Felix placed a glass of water and two pills next to it. The rest of the group had already eaten dinner, so Felix sat with his hyung to keep him company. They sat in comfortable silence, which Chan was grateful for as his head was still hurting. When he finished his meal, he washed down the pills Felix had prepared for him, clearing his throat afterwards. "Did you take your temperature while you were in the bathroom?", the dancer asked, brushing the back of his hand against Chan's forehead. The older shook his head, damp curl falling in his face. Felix gently brushed them back and whispered: "Let's go and do that first. If your fever's already high, I don't want to make it worse with the heating pad. That wouldn't do your headache any good." Chan nodded and got up with a wince. Why did every move have to hurt so bad? He slowly made his way to the bathroom again, hand braced against the wall as he was starting to feel unsteady on his feet. Felix knew better than to take his hyung's word, so he went with him to see the numbers on the thermometer for himself. It turned out, Chan's fever wasn't all that bad, he was simply run-down, which left him dizzy. "Alright, let's get you to bed and then you can have the heating pad for a while", Felix smiled, wrapping his arm around his hyung's shoulders to guide him to their shared room.

He made Chan lay down on his stomach and then placed the heating pad across his shoulders and neck, knowing those were the spots the older was always getting sore the fastest. While Felix waited for the warmth of the heating pad to do its work, he turned off the lights only leaving on the lamp on his desk, so he'd be able to see. As Chan was slowly relaxing, Felix searched through their drawers. He still remembered them having a lotion that they always used after intense dance practices, that would soothe the soreness in their muscles, so they'd be able to keep practicing the next day. When he found it, he sat down on the edge of Chan's bed and ran a hand through his hyung's hair, whispering: "Hyung, if you take of your shirt, I'll rub some lotion into your shoulders." The older sat up with a struggled, pulling his shirt over his head before flopping back down. Felix picked up the heating pad that had fallen off in the process and draped it over the lower half of Chan's back before dipping his hand into the lotion and rubbing it between his hands to warm it up. He gently spread it across the leader's shoulders, rubbing them in large circles while trying to keep his touch light. He didn't want to hurt the older like earlier.

When Chan seemed to relax, Felix started to apply a little more pressure, working on the tight knots he felt under his palms. His hyung didn't seem to be hurting too badly when Felix kneaded his shoulders, so the younger continued till he felt the tension melt away before working on the older's neck. Chan's neck was always a bit sore, which would give him tension headaches, so Felix hoped he'd be able to ease his hyung's headache by getting the muscles to loosen up a bit. The dancer giggled quietly when he heard quiet snores coming from the older. He got up from the bed and moved the heating pad back up to Chan's shoulders before covering him with a blanket. Deciding to let the older get as much sleep as possible, Felix left the room and reminded himself to remove the heating pad before he'd go to bed, so his hyung wouldn't wake up with a worse fever tomorrow.