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kkvqwrites · 1 year

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Bedside Manner

Reader goes into labor while Simon's away and calls the first person she can think of. The task force (and some other friends in high places) rally around the couple on the most important day of their lives.

Word Count: 2,587

Characters (in order of appearance): fem!Reader (no use of y/n), Capt. John Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kate Laswell

CW: childbirth, hospital setting, medical procedures

A/N: Am I a Ghost girlie? Absolutely. Am I also a sucker for the found family trope? Til I die. This idea wouldn't leave me alone and I'm so glad I stuck with it. I love the way this came out and hope you like it!

"Dear? Everything okay?"

The captain's voice on the other end of the line sounded worried. Both he and Simon had drilled it into you to never hesitate to call Price if you needed anything while your husband was away, but you couldn't help feeling a bit guilty.

"Um, I think so," you began, willing your voice to stay level and upbeat. "I think I just - oof.." Another contraction hit, stealing the air from your lungs. They were coming more consistently now, and hard enough to stop you in your tracks.

This could not be happening.

"What's wrong? Are you alright? Are you hurt?" You could hear movement in the background, him gathering his things to be out the door and on his way to you.

"I'm fine, John. I just didn't know who else to call. I think the baby might be coming?" The words came out pinched as you worked through the tail end of the contraction. The captain swore loudly.

"Stay put, love. I'm on the way - everything will be alright. Want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"No, no, that's fine. Stay safe and I'll see you when you get here." You hung up before he could argue and fuss like a mother hen.

______________________________________________________________

The knock at the door startled you. You looked at the clock - surely that couldn't be John already. The man lived across town. Not trusting yourself to make it to the door, you called out.

"It's open!"

Turns out it wasn't Price, but Gaz, who stepped into your living room and began taking in the scene. It was a sight to be sure: you, doubled over sitting on your yoga ball, rocking back and forth to try to alleviate some of the pressure in your hips, towel around your neck because you were sweating like a pig, ambient white noise filtering through the bluetooth speaker to keep you calm. For all his usual swagger and poise, Gaz looked a bit frightened.

"Kyle, did John call you? I'm so sorry - I'm sure you were busy-"

"Not at all, I rushed over as soon as I got word." The sergeant came to your side and knelt until he was eye level. "The captain's on his way but I was closer. We didn't want you to be alone any longer than necessary."

"You and your task force are worse than a quilting circle." The jab came with a joking smile, but the smile was cut short by the stab of another contraction. At the sight of your face screwing up in pain, Kyle's eyes got big.

"Can I do something? Do you need anything?" He wrung his hands as he fussed, seemingly unsure whether to touch you or whether you'd bite him if he tried. Admittedly, you weren't too sure yourself.

"Need you to reset - the timer." The words came out through clenched teeth as your muscles tensed and screamed. "Contractions - need to time them."

"The timer - right." He sprung into action, undoubtedly happy to have a defined task to accomplish. As he was fiddling with the device, Price stormed through the door, his demeanor all-business.

"Gaz? What's the situation?" The sergeant hopped to attention as if he was at roll call.

"Got here not long ago myself, Cap. Just reset the timer for contractions."

"Where are we at?"

"Thirteen minutes, sir."

The captain turned to you, assessing you from top to bottom. His expression and his voice softened considerably as he spoke.

"Ready to get to the hospital, love?"

"Can't - they told me to wait until they're five minutes apart." The man looked bewildered.

"And just let you sit here and suffer? Not on my watch. Gaz, grab my keys - "

"John," you interrupted. "I already called. They won't admit me yet. We just need to wait it out."

"Nonsense, love. You wait til I get someone's ear over there. Five minutes my arse." He moved to help you stand, but stopped in his tracks as he took in your face, your lip trembling. "Is there something else?" As if on cue, a fat tear rolled down your cheek, the first of its kind since the pains began.

"This isn't supposed to be happening," you squeaked out. "Not for a few more weeks. Simon's supposed to be here."

The men shared a glance, looking stricken. Price leaned down next to you, a broad hand gently squeezing your shoulder. His voice was soft when he spoke, a renewed slowness replacing his prior rushed pace.

"I know, love. I know it's not ideal, and I know you're scared. I know Simon would give anything to be here, that he'd split heaven and earth to be with you right now. But I also know he'd want you and your little one taken care of, yeah? He wouldn't want you to wait."

You nodded, despite more tears threatening. "Doesn't change the fact they won't admit me yet."

The captain's mouth quirked defiantly. "You let me worry about that. Gaz, help her up. I'll drive."

______________________________________________________________

Simon was tired down to his bones, feeling like a wrung out rag after the most recent mission. Despite that, the man was a ball of energy as he hopped off the plane, desperate to get back to you.

"Someone's antsy," Soap drawled, taking a more leisurely pace. He slid his sunglasses on as Simon switched on his cell phone anxiously. "Got somewhere to be, LT?"

"'Matter of fact I do - home." Simon impatiently hiked his duffel bag higher on his shoulder. "See my wife, eat a real meal. Finally build that godforsaken changing table. Who knew a baby needs so much furniture?"

Soap barked a laugh, but Simon tuned him out as he put his phone to his ear. He'd gotten a voicemail from you, and everything else ceased to matter.

"Hey babe, it's me. I'm not sure when you'll get this, and I hate to worry you. I'm sure it's fine. It's just... I've been feeling some contractions-"

Simon didn't hear the rest, nearly dropping his phone as he broke into a run.

______________________________________________________________

True to his word, Price argued with the hospital staff until you were taken up to a room. You were sure he must have pulled rank, threatened to call people, but he refused to let you worry about it.

The ride had been smooth, despite John driving like a bat out of hell. Gaz stayed in the back seat with you, clinging to your hand and fussing. Later, you'd think it was funny how he seemed to need more encouragement and support than he offered, but at that moment very little was funny.

You had been able to stay in denial for an admirably long time. The past few days, you were able to tell yourself it was just Braxton-Hicks contractions, not the real thing. That even when it became evident the real thing was starting, that it wouldn't progress quickly. That even though it was progressing, that Simon would walk in the door just at the right moment and sweep you into the car and off to the hospital and all would be well. Even when your gut told you to pick up the phone and call the captain, you had managed to make yourself believe that you were wrong, that it was a false alarm, that you still had more time.

Now, here you were, connected to monitors and being poked and prodded by nurses. Medical history, allergies, birth plan, you felt like you were in interrogation rather than a patient receiving care. And if it wasn't the nurses it was the two men standing off to the side, one wringing his hands in worry and one watching the nurses like a hawk and barking questions. The contractions were closer to eight minutes apart now, progressing quickly. Now the situation was very real, and as thankful as you were from the support from Price and Gaz, your heart threatened to shatter at the absence of the one person who mattered most.

______________________________________________________________

"Bloody fuckin' hell, no one will answer their phone!" Ghost barked, ready to throw his out the window. He'd had radio silence other than a second voicemail, this one from the Captain:

"Simon, Price here. Just got word from the missus that the baby's on the way. I'm headed there now. I don't want you to worry about a thing, I won't leave her side. I'll update you as I'm able."

"She knew to call the captain; he's probably with her now," Soap offered from the driver's seat. He'd practically had to arm wrestle Simon for the keys, but ended up convincing him that he'd be able to call for updates if he wasn't worried about driving. Silently, he thanked the saints Simon had agreed; who knows what carnage he'd unleash on the roads as worked up as he was.

"He better be, or I'll - not now, Laswell!" Simon rejected the third call from the station chief since landing and tried Price again. He was sure he'd hear about it for skipping debrief and jumping in the car, but right now he couldn't bring himself to give a shit. When Price's phone again went to voicemail, he was about to go nuclear when the car's Bluetooth lit up with Laswell's number.

"Shite; let me answer it LT." Soap pushed the button. "Laswell, it's Soap. Here with Ghost."

"I know," she said impatiently, her voice filling the space. "I've been trying to call all afternoon. I know what's happening and I'm here to help."

"What? How do you know?"

"Price called me as soon as he got word, asked me to find you. Anyway, you're wasting time heading in that direction; there's a lane closure ahead and you're about to be neck deep in traffic. I've mapped an alternate route for you. Take the next left."

The two men looked at each other in confusion before both starting to speak at the same time.

"Left? That takes us the wrong way-" "How do you know where we're at?"

"Boys! Boys, listen," she continued, exasperated. "Don't worry about how I know, just do as I say. We're gonna get you there as fast as possible. Now turn left!"

Soap cut the car to the left, ignoring the indignant honks of other drivers as he began to cut through the city under Laswell's watchful eye.

______________________________________________________________

"The doctor says you'll be ready to start pushing soon. How are you feeling?" The nurse was genuinely trying to be nice, so you bit back on your retort of how the fuck does it look like I'm feeling? My insides are exploding! and instead chose a weak smile and a head nod.

Once the nurse whisked away, Price was back at your side. You could tell by his expression he wanted to give you a pep talk like you were one of his soldiers about to head into battle, but he was searching for the right thing to say. You broke the silence first.

"I'm scared." Your voice sounded small, the words escaping almost of their own volition. The captain took your hand, blessedly avoiding sugarcoating the situation.

"I know. But you're doing great - a real trooper. Even with the needle in the back! Simon's gonna be so proud of you, love. And Gaz and I are gonna be right here. Right Gaz?"

"Right, Cap." The sergeant slid back into the room, cup of ice in hand. While the captain had taken point and begun advocating for you with the hospital staff and asking a million questions, Gaz had been dutifully making sure you were comfortable. Anything from getting you an extra pillow for your back, to helping you tie your hair back, to getting you ice chips since you couldn't have food or drink during labor, he was on it. If either man was uneasy about what was about to happen, they dutifully kept it under wraps and maintained their game faces.

One by one, the care team took up positions around you to get started. Price and Gaz got next to you, each taking one of your hands, ready to offer what support they could. You shamed yourself, one last time, for being ungrateful for their presence. A lot of people give birth with less, you tried to tell yourself. He’d be here if he could.

The doctor walked in, donning gloves and getting a quick status update from one of the nurses before meeting your eyes. “Evening, ma’am. We’re going to-”

Her words were cut off by a commotion in the hall, a door slamming and what sounded like some raised voices. Everyone in the room exchanged confused glances, and Price motioned for Gaz to go investigate. He poked his head out into the hall for only a moment before returning with a big grin.

“You’re not gonna believe who’s here."

Then your husband was in the doorway, and then he was at your side, and suddenly those honey brown eyes drowned out every ounce of pain and fear you’d been holding onto, and that warm, calloused hand took yours, and you were ready.

______________________________________________________________

You would have thought it would be difficult to fall asleep under fluorescent lights, with monitors beeping and staff bustling around. But you had never known tiredness like this, and wanted to take the nurse’s advice and rest while the pain meds were still working their magic. The delivery had been uneventful once the show was on the road, and Simon never left your side, his steady presence grounding and his voice in your ear keeping you calm. Then there she was, a baby girl, the most precious tiny thing you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d stared at her and cried for hours, stroking her tiny hand and welcoming her to the world until you could barely keep your eyes open. And so, with a squeeze of your hand and a kiss on your forehead from Simon, you found yourself drifting off. You were aware, as you floated off, of his slow pacing back and forth with your newborn daughter in his arms, of his whispers to her that were too low for you to hear. Of the guys popping in, as unobtrusively as possible lest the lieutenant tear them limb from limb for disturbing you and the baby, bringing him food and coffee and admiring the bundle of joy.

“Doesn’t look a thing like you, Simon,” said Soap.

“Thank God for that,” he replied.

“You should have seen it, Simon really - needle this long, right in the spine!” Price remarked, not for the first time. “She didn’t even flinch.”

“I’m just glad you made it for the gross stuff,” mumbled Gaz.

“Kyle, you’re in the military. You’ve seen arms and legs blown off.”

“Completely different, Johnny. Not the same at all.”

On and on they bantered, brothers in arms stepping into their role as uncles for your baby girl with delight. One of the last things you heard was Simon, his voice thick with emotion.

“Thank you, all of you, for being here. For today.”

“Oh come off it Simon,” replied the Captain. “These girls mean something to you, so they mean something to us. That’s what a family is. Now quit hogging her and let Uncle John have a turn.”

You wouldn’t remember this conversation when you woke up, wouldn’t be able to articulate where it came from, but you’d carry with you the bone-deep feeling of connection with this little makeshift family forever.

#cod ghost #cod ghost fanfic #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fanfic #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #mwii ghost #task force 141 #john price #soap mactavish #gaz garrick #kate laswell #mwii fanfic

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bangtanflirt · 8 months

Text

(Un)natural Instincts (Part 8)

*Series taglist is closed.

angst, fluff, smut

Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.

Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6 > Part 7 > Part 8 > Part 9

General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property (Minors DNI, 18+ content)

Specific Warnings: pretty mild smut with references to past group sex (consensual), sexual aversion due to past trauma, ptsd, panic attack

____

Jimin makes his way through the maze of a house, scent-tracking locked on the youngest caretaker hybrid until he’s led right to the door. He knocks softly, waiting for Taehyung's permission. Jimin looks at the scene, first in awe at what his packmate is capable of, but following with concern immediately after.

“That looks incredible, Tae.”

Taehyung says nothing, simply locked in on what he’s creating.

“But is it alright for you to be doing this? Your knuckles, aren’t they still healing?”

The hybrid winces at the mention of his knuckles.

“They’re fine” is all he mutters under his breath. His knuckles were almost healed by now, thanks to you insisting on bandaging them up on his first day. The wolf had also started eating meals on his own again, but it was hard for others to tell if the wounds were healing when they’ve been hidden under bandages for so long—making his pack unsure if he was actually in less pain or just trying not to show it.

It was a primary concern Namjoon had, one that would have kept him from sharing this idea with Taehyung at all. Namjoon knows better than anyone how Taehyung thinks, how defensive he would get at the mention of his knuckles at that moment. The last thing the young hybrid would want is another reminder of a time he messed up—another time he couldn’t measure up to his caretaking duties the way the other two do. The Alpha had to be crafty in his earlier check-in:

“Hi Tae,” he looks down past the hybrid’s face, “oof, let me see those hands.”

Taehyung shamefully puts his hands up for his Alpha to take in,

“I told you biting your claws isn’t a good habit.”

He had taken the wolf’s hands under the guise of checking his over-bitten fingernails, grazing his knuckles with just enough pressure to make Taehyung squirm if he was actually in pain. It’s only when his pup didn’t show any sign of hurt did the Alpha propose his plan. Ever so tactfully.

And if their Alpha was in the room right now, he’d no doubt glare at Jimin, before changing the conversation. But Namjoon is out on his walk, and Jimin doesn’t know any better.

“Are you sure? Can I see under the banda—”

“I said it was fine. I know how to take care of myself hyung.” The annoyance in his tone clear as day.

Jimin shrinks, not understanding why his gesture of concern is being met with such hostility.

“I just want to make sure they’re healing properly.”

Taehyung turns around to face his packmate, eyes mirthless, “Knuckle strikes stop hurting by the sixth day, but you wouldn’t know that, would you? You’ve never been the one who gets hit. Now, if you could leave, that’d be great. I need to finish this.”

Jimin closes the door with pursed lips, unable to say much. It didn’t go unnoticed that Taehyung was slowly putting a distance between them (and Jin) ever since the orange juice fiasco, but to explicitly hear something so close to “fuck off” was jarring. Although the pack was close before the lab, it was Jimin and Taehyung who were always a little closer to each other. They were the ones getting scolded together, bickering over the dumbest things, and cuddling the closest at night—the others would say that the two had a bond more inseparable than a pack bond. But all that changed during training. Instead of both getting scolded by their Alpha for some mischievous prank gone wrong, it was now only Taehyung getting punished. And this time not with Namjoon’s stern words, but with strangers in white coats picking him apart mentally and physically, until the only thing he could do was wail against the cold floors of the time-out rooms.

Jimin would try to teach him, would spend hours helping Taehyung understand how to properly hold a kitchen knife or cradle a bundle-of-blankets as a makeshift baby. But there was no improvement, his clumsiness and boyish nature would always get in the way of training. There was only so much the two older ones could do to help, especially when their pup would get frustrated quickly and give up until the researchers came to dish out punishment. It would hurt, watching him get tortured over and over again, but at some point, the hormones shifted their priorities, making them turn a blind eye—just as everyone did with Hoseok’s food portions.

Jimin knows it’s selfish to act like him and Taehyung are still the same inseparable pair, to approach him with contrived obliviousness, but he can’t help it. It’s easier to think this way. To think they are still strong in their love for each other.

“You okay?” The voice almost causes Jimin to jump back, before seeing the source.

Yoongi, with furrowed brows as he looks into the hybrid’s glossy eyes. Jimin doesn’t even notice that he’s tearing up, hands intervening quickly to wipe them away.

“Yeah.” He doesn’t stay around for conversation, hurrying away to the hybrid room.

It’s just as Jimin’s walking away that Jungkook comes into view. He only saw the last second of the interaction, with Jimin wiping away his tears, but he gathers everything he needs to know.

“What did you say to Jimin hyung?” The tone is accusatory, causing Yoongi to put his hands up in defense.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I don’t believe you. You seem good at making people cry.”

Ouch.

Yoongi may be human and he may be your guest, but Jungkook doesn’t see why he has to keep being obedient and polite to someone his owner isn’t even on good terms with. Still, it’s the first time since after training that he’s talked to a human with such an attitude, and he himself is caught by surprise. It’s ever so slight, but still a peek into his old self—the wild Jungkook with a sharp tongue and bristling personality.

“Okay, I deserve that, but he came out of that room and started crying. I don’t know what happened.”

Jungkook eyes the door, heightening his senses and focusing. Taehyung’s sour scent emanates strong enough for the wolf to put the pieces together. It’s not the first time Taehyung and Jimin’s scents started souring around each other, but it’s a topic Jungkook doesn’t dare touch with a ten-foot pole.

“Sorry” he mumbles.

___

Jimin doesn’t get to cry into the bed like he was hoping to—because there’s already someone else crying there.

“Hyung?” It’s a soft whisper, but it prompts Hoseok to look up with puffy red eyes. He doesn’t try to hide the tears as Jimin comes closer. Jimin situates himself under the blanket, keeping a small gap between the two bodies.

“Hyung, talk to me please” it’s as much of a plea for Hoseok’s sake as it is for his own, not thinking he can handle being turned away from two of his packmates in a row.

Luckily, Hoseok doesn’t snap at him or push him away, instead staring with imploring eyes. Your words ring in his mind.

Hoseok, no more lying. Whatever’s on your mind, you have to be honest and let us help you.

Whether or not you meant it as one, it’s a command to him.

“I can’t stop thinking about the stuff they made me do at the lab. It’s like every five minutes my mind goes back there again. Before, I could just disassociate and jam it all into one part of my brain, but that’s getting harder to do ever since the collar came off. Now every time I even blink, I think about those people…how they would use me…and I feel so dirty Jimin. I try to scrub it all off in the shower, the feeling of filth, but no matter how hard I scrub, it doesn’t go away.”

Jimin doesn’t respond—doesn’t know how to respond. Instead, he opens up his arms, slightly reaching out but still not touching the older wolf, just in case he doesn’t want it. But Hoseok’s quick to roll into his packmate’s arms, pressing his head against the brunette’s chest as his hands come to hold him tight. Jimin feels his shirt getting soaked through, tears staining the light blue cotton. The two stay intertwined for a moment, with Jimin’s hands massaging through Hoseok’s hair until the crying turns into soft sniffles. It’s then when Hoseok pulls slightly away, making eye contact with Jimin, with an expression the younger wolf can’t quite read.

“You…you can fix me.”

Jimin’s face contorts in surprise, but Hoseok stands firm in his statement.

Of course. Why didn’t I think of this sooner? If anyone can help me, it’s Jimin.

Jimin, who, before all the training and experiments, had the biggest appetite for sexual intimacy. The one who would cling onto each packmate and beg to feel them every chance he got, make their good days better and bad days bearable—all with lustful words and sensual touches.

“You can make me forget them…can replace those memories. If anyone can remind me how good it feels to be touched again, it’s you.”

Jimin looks into Hoseok’s eyes, seeing more hope than he has for a while.

Is it really that simple?

Jimin thinks back to pre-lab days, when that is exactly how he would console his hyung. There’s been many days when Jimin’s eagerly used his body to dull down Hoseok’s anxious scent…is it really no different this time, even after everything?

“We can try” Jimin concludes, untangling himself from Hoseok to lock the door, not wanting any interruptions if this is to be done right.

He dips back into the bed, gently pulling his hyung to sit up, until he can comfortably sit on his lap. It’s all a little rusty to Jimin, who’s had his mind focused too much homemaking to feel sexy in a while, but he’s hoping it’ll come back to him.

“You have to stop me if it gets too much. Promise?”

Hoseok nods, but Jimin makes him say it out loud before diving in for the first kiss.

The kiss feels novel, with both of them chasing after the other’s soft lips. It’s not long before it turns hungry and deep—noses touching and soft whimpers being spilled into each others' mouths. Hoseok, surprisingly, isn’t thinking about the lab at all. He’s thinking about nothing except the man on top of him, reveling in the way Jimin’s tongue sneaks into the mix.

Jimin’s losing himself too, getting back into the groove of his old self, gently rocking his hips as he gets comfortable, fingers snaking back into his lover’s hair—almost about to kiss down before remembering the bandages. It's been over three months since he's felt love like this, and his body's been yearning for it more than his mind even knew. Each second of the kiss reminds him of his old self: the way he'd be at the center of his packmates' passion-filled endeavors, always begging for everyone's attention. They'd give in easily, spoiling him, filling him up just right as he was passed around between warm bodies. It's a feeling he doesn't know how he's lasted so long without.

Everything's good until it isn’t.

Good until Hoseok feels Jimin’s length poking through, while his own is still soft and unable to stir up. Good until the other man’s hardness triggers the faces of ten random research participants who had their hard lengths pressed against him in the same way. Instead of going away, the memories come back more vivid than ever. Suddenly he wants to vomit.

“St-stop!”

Everything stills. Jimin snaps out of his lustful gaze in a second, face scrunching up as Hoseok’s vanilla scent starts burning. The caretaker hybrid quickly hands him water from the nightstand, waiting until after a few gulps to cup his lover's face into his hands. Hoseok’s chest is heaving from panic, eyelids feeling heavy and stiff, but Jimin pulls him back into his chest.

“Breathe with me, just focus on breathing.”

He does as told, putting full attention on the steady pace in which Jimin’s chest rises and falls against his eardrums. He tries to mimic it, but the panic in his lungs turns every breath sporadic.

“I’m sorry…I thought if it was with you I could…but I couldn’t…fuck…”

“It’s okay hyung. I’ve got you. Don’t think about anything but breathing for now.”

It’s not until Hoseok’s breath truly steadies that he speaks again,

“I’m such a disappointment.”

“No, you’re not.” His voice is unwavering, planted firm with conviction as he continues, “There’s nothing wrong with needing more time to heal.”

“But what if it’s permanent? What if I can never be that way with you guys ever again?”

How can he even preserve his relationship with Jimin alone? Sex has always been the wolf’s primary love language, and his libido will surely go back to normal soon...what will happen if Hoseok can't satisfy him anymore?

What if he can never love me the same? What if none of them can?

But Jimin’s quick to shut Hoseok’s inner demons down.

“Then we’ll just have to double up on everything you are comfortable with, whether that’s hugs and kisses, or just conversations. Our love for you has never been conditional hyung. Sex or no sex, we just need you. Our Hobi.”

It’s the way Jimin says it, like he’s never been more sure of anything in his life, that make Hoseok’s chest feel a little bit lighter.

“Stay right here. I’m going to grab some of that waffle cone ice cream I saw in the fridge, and we can put something on the TV.”

“But we haven’t had dinner yet. We shouldn’t skip to dessert.”

Jimin smiles at the way his hyung pouts, not expecting him to have such a clear stance on ice cream before dinner.

“Relax hyung, just once is fine.”

___

It’s 7pm when the main door clicks open. Two and half whole hours of you and Namjoon walking around and talking about everything and anything. You feel a little guilty using him as your therapist, but find yourself unable to stop oversharing when it comes to him. He’s bulldozed the walls you put up at this point, and not even by trying that hard—more of a kindred spirits kind of thing?

You don’t know exactly what yet, but it’s insane how much he knows about you in just three days. The hours just kept passing by and neither of you wanted to end the conversation, ending up stopping by a Chinese place for take-out when realizing it was time for dinner already.

It’s Yoongi who notices the closeness the most, seeing how easily you smile at the pack Alpha. And this time it’s not the “I’m a safe person” or “You’re doing really well” kind of smile you’d flash to ease the hybrids’ nerves, but more of a smile you’d show a friend. The kind of smile he’s used to being the only recipient of. But he knows just how badly things went last time his jealousy was involved, so he focuses on serving himself some rice, hushing that little green voice in his head.

“I’ll go give this plate to Taehyung hyung” Jungkook announces, a generous heap of orange chicken and fried rice on the platter.

“He’s still not joining us?”

“Don’t worry y/n. He’s in his zone right now!” That’s all the youngest says before speeding off, hair bouncing cutely with each step.

“I really want to ask, you know?”

Namjoon laughs, “You’ll find out soon enough.”

‘Soon enough’ turns out to be an hour after dinner, when the boxy-grinned brunette makes his way to you. You can’t help how relieved you feel seeing that smiling face again. In his hands is a messily wrapped object, and you raise a questioning look at your Christmas wrapping being used in February.

“It’s the only wrapping paper I could find” he pouts cutely, nudging you to take the gift.

You try to unwrap it neatly, but the random way it’s been wrapped makes that impossible, so you end up tearing through.

On the surface, it’s nothing special, just a bunch of printer paper stapled together with the words from your ruined book rewritten on each page. But as you flip through, you see them: pencil-drawn images of you and your grandmother sprinkled throughout the “book.” Some poses you recognize from the pictures in your study, but others are completely new compositions, drawn straight from Taehyung’s mind. And it’s all so well-drawn.

“Taehyung…where did you learn how to do this?!” The awe in your voice makes the hybrid’s shoulders rise, pride evident on his features.

Namjoon, equally proud of his pup, chimes in to answer.

“Taehyung’s always had this unbelievable gift when it comes to drawing and painting. He’s basically a genius at art.”

You look up at the mention of painting, “Wait, you can paint like this too?”

The wolf nods.

“If I get you a canvas and some paints, could you make me a portrait of her for the living room?”

“Yes! I would love to!” The wolf practically squeals at the thought of getting new paints.

It’s still not your grandmother’s book, and it’ll never have the memories you two made, but there’s something so beautiful in the way he’s portrayed her—so captivating how the glint in her eyes feels alive, as if she’s telling you that she’s still with you through her gaze alone. It’s clear that Taehyung tried his absolute best to make it up to you (and thank god for that, because you don’t have it in you to be mad at him for any longer).

You bring him close into a hug, to which he jumps into, mouthing a “thank you” to his Alpha from behind your gaze.

___

Jimin and Hoseok wait patiently until you’re done with wound care and out the door, clearly having something they need to get off their chest to the pack. It’s the younger one who recounts the day’s events, giving the elder one gentle hand squeezes throughout to keep him grounded.

There’s not a wolf listening whose face doesn’t fall instantly.

Namjoon takes lead in responding, to no one’s surprise. “We all have to be careful moving forward. Only give Hoseok affection on his terms and no initiating anything sexual with him, understood?”

Everyone nods, but the wolf in question just groans, "The last thing I want is you guys having to be careful around me. I don't want to be a burden."

"Not careful around you Hobi. Careful with you. Careful with the way we love you for as long as you need. It's not a burden because you're fucking worth it, and I won't hear anything otherwise...unless you tell me you'd find it a burden if it were any of us instead."

That shuts Hoseok up quick, because if it were any of the others, he'd give every inch of his energy and love into helping them heal. He'd pour everything in his soul to give his packmate what they need and when they need it. The word 'burden' wouldn't come into his mind at all.

“C'mere pup, how about sleeping next to me tonight?”

It takes a second for Hoseok to realize Namjoon is talking to him—the nickname ‘pup’ not being typically his. Namjoon may be a couple months younger, but it feels nice to hear the name spill from his lips. Makes him think he can be small like a pup should be, and taken care of like one too. He sees why the younger ones like the name so much.

His mind feels a little calmer the second Namjoon's hands wrap around his waist, telling him how proud he is of him for opening up. Assuring him that everything will be okay.

___

It’s well into the night when Jin carefully removes each limb piled on top of him, glad he chose the bed’s edge tonight. He’s learned it’s the best spot for him, easy to slip out when the insomnia gets unbearable. He tip-toes to the living room, deciding to read another one of the random books on the bookshelf like he did last night. But this time, he’s not alone. The living room is already dimly lit, and Yoongi’s lost in a book of his own, sinking into that recliner you love. It’s too late for Jin to retreat, as the two make eye contact.

“Can’t sleep either?”

Jin nods his head, “I can—um I can go somewhere else. Don’t want to disturb you.”

“I wouldn’t mind some company, to be honest. Most people in this house aren’t big on being in my presence right now.”

“Y/n’s our owner. Whatever fight you two are in, we’re not going to be on your side.” It’s not a challenging tone like Jungkook’s, more of a matter-of-fact statement.

“She’s not your owner and you’re not pets. Whatever’s going on with me and her is between the two of us, and we’re figuring it out. So please, grab a book and sit.”

The wolf timidly reaches for a book from the shelf before settling down on the sofa, the last part of Yoongi’s sentence sounding too command-like for him to refuse. He’s still your guest, and his commands still hold weight.

The two sit like that for hours, quietly indulging in their own pieces of fiction. It's not as uncomfortable as Jin thought it would be.

____

A/N: If you liked this part, let me know! I've said this before, but everyone's love and anticipation for this series is just so positively overwhelming. You guys are the best!

Permanent Taglist: @skyys-universee @morelovefortn @seagulljk @shadowyjellyfishfest @m4gg13-g @wittyreader

Series Taglist [CLOSED]: @welcometomyworld13 @kalala22 @fxirytaetae @btsfluffsworld @belikejk @shycreationdreamland @danielle143 @singukieee @blackrockshooter780 @g-b-artist @i-have-no-life-charlie @sopemee @no-regrets-just-confusion @acciocriativity @ldysmfrst @amara-mars @caelumwrites @estrellaburnxd @borahaetelevision @on-1ce @fuckthinking @jaiele

#bts hybrid au #hybrid bts x reader #poly ot7 #ot7 x reader #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #hurt/comfort

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ihavethedreamies · 1 month

Text

First Kisses | NCT Dream

NCT Dream - All Members

Rating: E for Everyone

Word Count: About 300 for each, so about 2k total

Pairing: NCT Dream x GN!Reader (Separate)

Genre: Reader-Insert, Drabble, Fluff

Summary: Your first kiss with each member of NCT Dream!

Author's Note: I have never wrote drabble-length things before, so I am proud of myself I kept these so short.

I tried to keep these gender-neutral, so let me know if I didn't, but it might still be slightly implied in these the reader is AFAB, I don't think so though…

PS. Mark's and Haechan's are different from the ones for 127…

-> NCT 127 <-

-> WayV <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

Mark

"You like someone?!" Mark's voice was way too loud, so you shushed him harshly, pressing on his shoulder to get him to sit back down. Luckily, the fast-food joint had very few people in it, but it just made his shout all the more obvious. "Shush!" You sighed, resting your forehead in your hand. "Yes." "Who?" He didn't sound curious, but it was hard to pinpoint his tone. "Why do you care?" It was him, but you couldn't just announce it right then. He had ruined the mood, plus it was not the place for a confession. "Is it Jeno?" "No." "Jaemin?" "No." "Donghyuck?!" He sounded mad and you looked around, shushing him again. "No! It's not any of our friends." You hoped that your vague answer was enough. "Who is it? What if he doesn't deserve you!?" "It's you, dumbass!" You had hoped to be sweeter about the confession, but your voice was laced with irritation. His upset facial expression fell, red slowly deepening on his face and the tips of his ears. Rubbing your temple, you nodded apologetically to the older couple nearest your table. "It's me?" "Yes." You brushed it off, continuing a normal conversation, changing the subject. He was only kind of listening; you could see his brain going into overdrive. He finally mentioned it again as you left the place. You were walking down the street, past an empty playground. His hand grabbed yours, spinning you to him. Mark's lips pressed to yours, soft at first, then he deepened it with a groan. When he pulled back, he smirked then as the tables had turned, your face red. "I like you too."

Renjun

He shoved past people, nearly knocking someone over as he fought through the crowd. He wished he wasn't so damn short, weaving through people looking for you. The crowd had formed around the bus, the big vehicle lying on its side, windows cracked and broken. The utility truck that had smashed into it had then hit a pole, smoke rising out of the front. That was the bus you were normally on; he knew it because he had been waiting for you to get off. The bus was so close to the stop down the road that he saw the accident, then ran to the scene. "Watch it!" Someone snapped as he shoved again, still looking for you. "Renjun?" His heart leaped when he heard you, turning around quickly to see you standing on the edge of the crowd. Your phone was in your hand, and you were taking one of your ear buds out. "(Y/N)!" He surged forward, shoving one more person so hard they stumbled, and before you could ask anything else, his arms were around you. You let out a soft, 'oof' your ear bud falling from your hand onto the pavement, luckily you held your phone firm. Renjun was breathing harshly, his cheek pressed to the side of your head, and you felt a tear that fell from his eye. "What happened?" You asked, looking at the bus crash. You were going to get on it like usual, but the bus was full, so you decided to walk instead. Renjun pulled back, his hands cupping your cheeks, turning your head to look over you. "Are you okay?" He was still breathing hard. "Yes? I walked…" You glanced back at the accident, but his hands still on your face, kept you from looking too well. Renjun sighed hard, and turned you back to look at him, capturing your next words with his lips. You squeaked in surprise, then melted into the kiss. It was desperate, not soft, and quick like you thought your first would be. When he finally pulled away, he pulled you back into a hug. Your mind reeled from the whirlwind of events, but you hugged him back, standing in his embrace so he could revel in the fact you weren't hurt.

Jeno

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Jeno had noticed your stare. You blinked to snap yourself out of it, eyes flitting away from his lips to meet his eyes. "What do you mean?" You hummed coyly, taking a sip of your drink. He scoffed playfully. "You've been ogling me more than usual today." He smirked and you glared insincerely. "I have no idea what you are going on about." You brushed it off and you two continued your meal. Dates between you two were not all that much different than when you two would hang out as friends, but there was a lot more flirting going on, of course. Casually drinking your iced coffee, you looked out the window, pretending to people watch. You were able to see his reflection in the glass. Jeno huffed amused, but let it go. As you were walking down the street, not heading anywhere in particular, his fingers linked around yours and you tried to keep your face neutral at the little act. When you two were walking past a park, he halted, his hand in yours pulling you to stop as well. Turning to look at him in question, he watched carefully as your eyes flitted over his face, lingering on his lips before going to his own. "You really want to kiss me that bad?" He smirked and your face turned red so fast he thought steam would come off of it. Were you that obvious? "W-what do you…" You swallowed and he stepped forward, so he was much closer. Glancing around, there was no one in sight, so he leaned in, lips pressing to the corner of your mouth. What a tease he was. You grunted, annoyed, and before he could fully laugh, your arms were around his neck. Jeno allowed you to haul him down to your level, lips sealing over his tightly. Since you were in public, he pulled back before the kiss could deepen further, tongue brushing your lower lip still. "Good?" He smirked. "Yes~"

Haechan

When you walked into the living room, you had not expected your roommate to be home, let alone spread like a starfish in the middle of the room. "Hyuck?" You questioned him and he gave an acknowledging grunt. "What are you doing?" "Contemplating life. Having an existential crisis." His tone was uncharacteristically flat, but it was clear he was being overdramatic. "Why?" You stopped next to him, and his gaze met yours, looking up at you like a kicked puppy. "You're going to the beach without me…" He pouted and you rolled your eyes. "Hyuck, it’s a family trip. Only family and significant others are going, not friends…" "I'm just a friend?!" He sat up quickly as you left his side, going to the kitchen. You wondered if he got a head rush. "You're my roommate, which is friend category." You jumped when you turned around, he was right there. "Freaking- what?!" You furrowed your brow along with him. "Can't I be a significant other?" His question further threw you off and you just gaped. "W-what?" "Take me as your boyfriend!" "But you're not my boyfriend!" "I am now!" He declared, his hand going to the back of your head, yanking you closer, kissing you to prevent any retort. After getting over the initial shock, you melted into the kiss, and followed after when he pulled back. "Yeah?" His stupid smirk made you want to smack him. "Fine…come as my boyfriend."

Jaemin

"Guess what?" His tone made you roll your eyes. He dropped his bag on the couch next to you and sneered up at him. "What?" You grimaced when he flopped down between you and his bag, sitting back confidently, ankle resting on his opposite knee. "I found out that someone likes me." "A lot of people like you, Jaemin. You have a mirror." You huffed, going back to your show, but he took the remote and paused it again. "I know who." "Yeah?" Your heart skipped; nervous he had figured you out. Hopefully, it was someone else, literally anyone else. Jaemin leaned it, his stupid smirk had evolved into the incredibly sexy one he knew just how to use. "It's you, (Y/N)." He chuckled and you tried to keep your face flat, but he saw your skin tinting pink, almost reddening. "W-who told you that?" "You did." "WHAT?!" You wondered what the hell he was talking about. You hadn't been drunk lately… "You read my letter to my mom!?" "I mean… It was just on the table…" "Ass-munch!" You lunged at him, tackling him back on the couch, landing on top of him. You grabbed the collar of his hoodie, hauling him up to glare at him. Instead of playing along with your fake aggression, he tilted his head, licking your lips. You dropped him, he bounced on the cushions, then he grabbed your waist, rolling forward so you were under him. His lips stopped your protest and you immediately melted, letting him kiss you. Jaemin pulled back, still with that stupid smirk. "You dick." You sneered, pulling him back down.

Chenle

After another extremely dramatic sigh from Chenle next to you, you stopped tying on your laptop, looking at him. "What now?" "I'm bored." He mumbled and you rolled your eyes. "Lele, we are going to be on this plane for another eight and a half hours, figure something out." You went back to typing and he groaned again. Luckily, he was filthy rich and so you both got to fly in the lap of luxury of first class. For the next fifteen minutes, you half-heartedly listen to him complain about this and that, before he stopped talking abruptly. Casting him a side glance to see what might have piqued his interest, he dug into his backpack, pulling a red box out. Pepero sticks. "What?" You had a feeling where he was going with it, your face a bit warm. He said nothing, for once, and tore the box open, pulling the chocolate covered biscuit stick out. He placed one end in his mouth, leaning closer, his implication clear. You huffed, closing your laptop, relenting. Maybe for once you could call his bluff. Sealing your lips around the other end, you both began to chew on it, lips getting closer and closer to each other. He still remained strong, so when there was barely any left between you, you sealed the deal. Your lips hit it, the rest of the candy entering your mouth. Though, when you went to pull back, he grunted, hand flying to the back of your head, bringing you back to him, kissing you harder. When he let you go, he laughed at your red face. You cursed him out under your breath, and he laughed harder.

Jisung

You were starting to ramble, panicking at his reaction. When you let it slip out of your mouth, you hadn't even registered, you had confessed. The tone was casual, so much so, he almost didn't catch your meaning. You told him that when a classmate had asked you for his contact, you told her no. You added that you two were more than friends to get her off the topic. This, however, was NOT true. When he asked why you did that, your reply was simple, "Cause you're mine-" He halted his stride and that made you stop too. That's when you started spewing out words, face hot, stomach flipping. So focused on finding the right explanation, you didn't notice Jisung move closer. By the time your eyes met, his big hands cradled your jaw and his lips softly met yours. He swallowed your gasp, pressing closer, his nerves quickly fading. Once you were over the initial shock, you kissed back, your own hands gripping the fabric of his sweatshirt over his ribs. Finally pulling away from each other, you both smiled bashfully, but didn't step away. Jisung even still had his hands on your jaw, thumb stroking the soft, flushed skin of your cheek. "If I'm yours, does that mean you're mine too?" His shyness was growing back at his own words. You blinked, then giggled, fingers messing with his hoodie zipper. "I'm yours, Jisung." Your smile grew when he leaned back in, lips ghosting over yours when he replied. "Let's be each other's then."

-> NCT 127 <-

-> WayV <-

Master-Master List

NCT Master List

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partycatty · 4 months

Note

can we get ninja mine johnny and we’re riding him and pulling on his little scarf like it’s a reign and his makeups getting all smudge and he’s overstimulated and about to cry

love you 💙💙

ohmyfuixdindgodyes love u MORE 🩷

johnny cage > silent movie

you and your co-star sneak off for some costumed fun

warnings: u get FRICKED, porn with like the slightest tinge of plot, johnny whimpers, author prays to a mk1 ninja mime altar on the daily (the one in the armageddon chapter was mk11 johnny, dammit!), you're also wearing a stupid costume, cockwarming?

notes: pookie ur goin CRAZY in my inbox rn ily for it

[ masterlist ]

• you two swore to keep it professional, but every brush of a hand against your ass or the way you'd press against him in scenes you were backed into his body only sent you too into a dazed neediness. johnny especially.

• the agent that put you up to this contract was a godsend, you realized. at first you saw a hefty paycheck for a ninja mime sequel, but then you got to see johnny in all his glory. even with that stupid, stupid makeup on, you had to wonder if you were quite literally soaking through your own ridiculous clown-doctor getup.

• the tension hit a hard peak when you two were given a break when some of the equipment malfunctioned, and although instructed to remain close, johnny gripped your arm and looked into your eyes with what you could only describe as a carnal desire. a look you knew far too well, one that suited his features nicely.

• you could barely close the door to your trailer before he's sauntering up to you, and you only get a quick glimpse at his raging hard-on before he's snaking his hands around your sides.

• foreplay is a myth when he's crawling up your side, placing sloppy open mouth kisses against your neck. there's no time to giggle at the lipstick marks he leave behind because he's already trying to seek more contact by humping his boner against your thigh. you almost want to tease him for his desperation. who would have thought that an a-lister like himself was such... a needy whore?

• needing to get impossibly closer, your hand finds the red scarf hanging neatly around his neck and you tug with fervor, massaging your lips into his so hard that you feel the sudden border of his teeth. all the while, he's rutting into your thigh and dropping lazy whimpers, spewing about how much he needs you.

• needing to feel how hot and hard you make him, you tug his costume upward, exposing his delicious abs and giving you plenty of access to his waistband. you sink under hungrily, wrapping your hands around his shaft the moment you can make out its form, stroking over the veins and only barely making it to his tip with each movement. johnny pulls away from your lips only to breathe, gasping at the sudden skin contact and lurching forward to bite down on your shoulder.

• if anyone heard you two, you'd definitely face a consequence that felt too distant at the moment. now, you had a pretty boy begging for your body, and i dunno about you but that takes number one priority.

• you pull him from your shoulder and push him onto the couch of your trailer, a devious glint in your eye. he falls back with a husky "oof," legs spread and waiting for whatever you'll do to him. you counter this preparation by pushing his legs back together and fumbling with the rope belt that held up his costume's pants.

• his cock springs free of the getup, curving down him with a thick, clear droplet of precum sliding down his shaft. you stick out your tongue and gather a palmful of saliva, coating him evenly and messily. you needed him inside of you just as much as he needed - well, he'd take anything you'd give him.

• your pants are shaken off quickly as you straddle his thick thighs, hiking up your lab coat with your clean hand as you reveal your wet pussy to him. his dick visibly twitches at the sight, and he lets out a deep, rumbly sigh.

• it's clear that between your mixture of fluids and the heat in the room, you're both ready. you spread your folds out wide as you do your best to encapsulate his cock inside of you, feeling burned by the stretching but accepting it like it's your destiny. it doesn't take too long for your hips to meet his, and all johnny can do is whimper and cover his mouth, head tilting back as even glancing at you would make him cum. an embarrassing threat from the man who's a self proclaimed playboy sex god.

• "let's see how silent this mime can stay," you giggle to yourself as you shamelessly swivel on his cock, earning a heavy buck upward. johnny is shaking, quite literally trembling over your pussy. he wants nothing more than to worship your body and taste everything you give.

• as your pace picks up, you realize you're fed up from only seeing the underside of his chin, and you tug on the scarf again to get his head to snap up to face you. his eyes widen at the sensual horror in front of him, you're riding him like a damn bull.

• johnny normally yaps, but you've rendered him a pathetic disaster of a man. he can only mutter curses and whimper your name like a prayer, like if he doesn't reach the quota of saying it you'll disappear. tears prick in the corners of his eyes as you tug on the sides of his neck from the fabric.

• disgusting slapping echoes off of the tiny trailer's walls, and johnny's hands fly to your ass to squeeze your cheeks. alternating between gripping the side of the couch cushion and your ass is the most he can bring himself to do.

• your fist keeps a firm grip on the scarf, but you tilt your palm up to insert a thumb into his mouth, one that he accepts embarrassingly quickly. his tongue flattens as he tastes your thumb, eyelashes fluttering shut as he blinks away tears.

• thank god the studio didn't invest in waterproof makeup, because you swear you've seen the sight underneath you in a medieval painting or some shit. he looked good, too good. johnny's tears melted down the sides of his face, leaving flesh-toned streaks behind. his pink lips were more apparent past the lipstick. you ruined him.

• his fingers dig into your asscheeks with pure delight, his hips now sloppily bucking up into you to meet you halfway with each drop. a part of you wanted to tie his arms down with the scarf and take control, but he was such a good boy for you, so patient.

• you mutter praises, your hand in his mouth now raking through his hair, knocking that damn beret from his head and ruffling his brown locks. the praises sounded like the angels of heaven calling his name, and he shot upward with one final, deep whine. just as you felt him twitch and empty himself inside of you, a firm knock was on your trailer door.

• "ms. lastname, the issue's been resolved. we're going to retrieve mr. cage and get back to filming," a production assistant drones into the crack of your door to get the message through. your hand returns to his mouth, this time holding it against his mouth to muffle his orgasmic whimpers.

• it took all these years of acting lessons to finally pay off, as you keep your voice level and as normal as you could possibly muster.

• "coming!" you reply with a devilish grin as you feel him continue to paint your insides, his eyes rolling back as he heavily pants through his nose. all you can do is sit there and take in every drop he gives you, unmoving on his cock to not alert the assistant outside.

• when you determine the coast to be completely clear, you lift yourself off of him, clenching your thighs tight. johnny gasps and frowns at the sudden coldness around his semi-hard dick, like he wasn't quite done with you.

• "you'd better come up with a good excuse for that," you say, making a circular motion with your finger at his makeup-clad face. he drunkenly grins at you, lopsided and low-lidded. "you look ruined."

• "good," he replies sleepily, still beaming like a fool. "is it a good look on me?"

• "very much so, ninja mime."

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mk1 #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage smut #marley writes ☆

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softzindagi · 9 days

Text

Some of my thoughts on maxton hall and why i loved it so much:

- im so glad that they didnt have james being a dickbag and kissing other girls after he met ruby

- the contrast of james and ruby’s families, the polar opposite in fathers. I love how they still had james and lydia be each other’s rocks in such a crappy situation when they have no one else, even if their relationship isn’t the best. The dichotomy of their relationship to ruby’s and ember’s? things can go wrong but they are sisters who love each other deeply.

-i loved the very pride and prejudice esque scenes of ruby dressing james down, and every time he deserved to be told off but it still makes ruby feel guilty afterwards. there’s a moral compass of ruby that james hated at first but it humbles him? Chefs kiss its so fucking good. He betters himself just like darcy and the change is seen even by his parents.

- the scene of ruby telling james off in the oxford course, its a pivotal scene because everything she says digs at things he knows. Young Beaufort wasnt his idea, it was Lydia’s and he’s taking credit and charge of it. He feels bad, he’s forced into it, but it’s the “you go through life representing wealth to which you have contributed absolutely nothing? With so much money, there’s no need for your own ideas.” Ruby has no idea how hard that actually hits home, and you can see Lydia take a step back mentally and yeah she agrees. The rest of it, how people will only like him for his money and not himself, that also hits so close. We see how Cyril laughs inspite of James’ pain, Alister is impressed by Ruby’s dress down but no one goes after James like a true friend would. As the series goes on you see how Alister and James grow closer as he becomes a better person, you see the care and concern because they’re in similar places but Alister isn’t as proud or arrogant as James is. I really love how by the end of the series, you have James and Alister confiding in each other.

- the scene on the lacrosse field, the way she apologizes and he is arrogant but decides to be nice because he is curious, and finds out that he does like her. She humbles him and makes him want to do better, she’s not the enemy and he kinda respects her for it. I also think, he’s never had anyone genuinely apologize to him, because he’s never had anyone wrong him but his own family. The apology, it’s a catalyst for him to let go of this resentment he has for her, in the truth she dug up in him.

- i am very happy that they have the good and the bad with ruby’s parents. The guilt that Ruby feels and the way her father is not happy that she is “wasting” her money on saving for his lift. There’s care there, but it’s hard nonetheless, those are big emotions to have years after an accident like he experienced.

- piggy backing off of that, the pivotal scene of James saving Ruby from the pool, that even though he didn’t know why she didnt come up but didnt hesitate to jump in? CHEFS KISS! The scene after of her confiding in him, him being so gentle and careful and being honest with percy, that he’s in over his head but he likes ruby, he wants to help her and has helped her. Oof just so fucking good!

- the way they keep telling each other that they should go back to never knowing each other, but every time fail because they’re meant to collide now, they MATTER to each other now

- i just really am glad they had him apologize for the shitty way his father was to her. That he was embarrassed by himself and his father. It was excruciating to have her get humiliated by his father. He’s only experienced it within his own family, but having it happen to Ruby? that changed things.

- they fucking nailed the cute scenes between them. The dancing in the victorian clothes, the chasing pigeons, the planning and setting up of the gala? Hell yeah!

- The whole fourth episode was chef’s kiss, no notes just purely good storytelling

More thoughts later but this is what i’ve got rn after rewatching the show for the third time

#maxton hall #james beaufort #ruby bell #meta

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justmeinadaze · 7 months

Note

Do you know what I’m thinking about?

Boxer!Eddie and Boxer!Steve

Enemies to lovers oof.

A/N: A gift for you on this Friday. We're all just horny, thirsty bitches. Lol. Love ya!

Warning: SMUT (slightly rough with some dirty talk and choking), ANGST (they aren't fans of each other; Eddie mentions his rough upbringing) FLUFF (at the end if you squint)

Word Count: 1935

Steve hated everything about him. His long hair that flowed around his shoulders before pulling it back during a fight. His stupid, cocky smile when he was being interviewed by the press or during a conference when they took his picture. Steve hated his snarky attitude that made it seem like he could care less about the sport as a whole. He despised the way his shorts hung low enough to expose the V leading into the waistband. He thought those tattoos splattered across his well-toned chest were ridiculous. But the one that Steve hated most of all was the fact that Eddie Munson didn’t seem intimidated by him at all.

Steve Harrington had been training to be a boxer since he left high school, finding a peace in the ring that he never found anywhere else. He worked hard to get where he was and this new up and comer just bursts onto the scene without a care in the world or even putting in the time.

“Mr. Munson! Do you really think you will be the one to finally knock out Mr. Harrington here?”, a reporter asked making Eddie grin widely.

“I mean, I haven’t been knocked out yet either so we’ll see.”

“Mr. Harrington! Thoughts?”

“I’ve been boxing now for over 5 years and worked hard. I’m not worried.”

“Are you implying I didn’t work hard, Stevie?”, Eddie teases.

“DON’T. Call me that. I’m not your fucking friend, Munson.”

“Ooo someone is grumpy this morning.”, he chuckles. “Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, Harrington?”

“I woke up just fine. What side of the trailer did you wake up on?!”

The metalhead narrowed his eyes in his direction as his jaw tightened and he turned away.

***

Steve’s leg bounced in his corner of the ring as he glared across the way at his opponent. Eddie seemed more jazzed up than usual, staring back at him with just as much anger and annoyance. The bell rung as both men stood and met each other in the middle.

They each got in some good hits, Steve underestimating Eddie’s strength as he hit the mat hard, spitting out blood before rising to his feet. He could hear his dad’s voice in his head, ringing in his ears.

“Come on, son. You have to do better. You can’t just be lazy your entire life. I swear to God, you aren’t trying as hard as you should be.”

Steve swung his arm but Eddie swiftly blocked it and delivered his final blow, knocking the boy to the mat again. As the ref began counting down, Steve stared out into the audience as the images blurred around him and he passed out.

***

“You should go home, ya know, before I leave you here again in the dark.”, Eddie taunted as he walked through the arena to head for his car, stopping when he found Steve sitting cross legged in the middle of the ring. “Everyone else is already gone.”

“Good so get the fuck out of here so I can be alone.”

“Jesus Christ. You have an attitude problem.”, the long-haired boy scoffs as he starts for the door.

“I have an attitude problem?! No, Munson, you’re the one with the problem!”, he shouted giving the other man pause.

“Oh yeah? How so, pretty boy?”

“I have worked every day for this! I put in the time and training and you show up out of nowhere with your blasé attitude like boxing is the easiest fucking thing in world!”

“I didn’t work hard?”, he countered as he threw his gear to the ground and climbed up into the ring to face him. “I didn’t train and do anything possible to get here?! Oh no. How could I? Eddie Munson is just some trailer trash idiot who couldn’t be on the same level as Steve fucking Harrington. What would make you approve of me, huh? Maybe if I trained with equipment like Ivan Drago I could come close, huh, Stevie?”

“I said don’t call me that!”

“Or what?”

Steve takes a swing at him but Eddie swiftly moves out of the way, grabbing his arm and tossing him towards the ropes.

“You know, I can’t believe I actually fucking looked up to you.” The metalhead takes off his jacket and tosses it away as the other boy does the same. “When I was growing up, I was a huge wrestling fan. More than anything I studied the moves so when my drunk father came at me I could defend myself.”

Steve charged towards him and once again Eddie threw him to the floor.

“When I finally had enough money to find a gym and train, rumors about thee Steve Harrington flew all around the boxing circuit. I thought ‘Maybe one day I can be as good as him.’ Now I know…I’m better.”, he smirks and allows the other boy to actually tackle him to the mat.

They wrestle on the floor for a bit before Eddie gets the upper hand and locks Steve between his legs.

“See, I think your problem is you over think everything. It’s all numbers and stats for you. That’s why you hate me, isn’t it. Because I don’t give a shit about any of that. I just want to do good and have fun. Do you have fun anymore, Stevie?”

Elbowing him in the side, Steve flips Eddie over onto his back and straddles his waist as he pins his wrists to the floor.

“Oh…”, Eddie coos softly as he rolls his hips upwards, grazing the bulge between Steve’s legs. “I see. You need to be in control to have fun don’t you, big boy? You need to be the best at everything or else you’re a failure is that it?”

Steve exhales heavily, releasing the man from his hold with the intention of standing up and walking way but Eddie quickly grabs his face and roughly brings it down to hover over his own.

“Don’t let your dad dictate how you live your life. I don’t.”

With that he yanked Steve’s lips his own. Something lit up inside Steve he hadn’t felt in a long time, passion. When he pulled away, Eddie saw it reflecting in his eyes and smirked up at him, willing to play his game.

Wrapping his arms around his waist, the long-haired boy wrestled him onto his back and kissed him again, sliding his tongue along his own as he continued to grind against him.

Steve pushed Eddie’s chest, maneuvering him till he was underneath him once more and placed his palm around his throat lightly choking him as Eddie’s hands roamed underneath the man’s shirt.

“Come on, Stevie, baby. Show me what you got.”

Growling, he pushed up onto his knees and unbuckled his belt, reaching into his pants to pull out his cock. Eddie’s eyes widened in surprise at the man’s size causing Steve to flash him a smirk of his own.

“I think it’s time I shut that mouth up for you.”

Leaning forward, he guided himself into the man’s awaiting mouth, groaning when he felt him choke around him. Eddie tried to continue to wrestle but Steve had the upper hand here, gripping his hair tightly in his fingers.

“You can take my cock. Trust me. Your mouth is fucking big enough with all the attitude that comes out of it.”

Eddie quickly kicked off his shoes and looped his legs around Steve’s chest, knocking him backward as he climbed on top of him, and lifted off his shirt.

Steve mewled as Eddie’s lips sloppily kissed down his chest before enveloping him in his mouth again. The man’s own limbs circled around the metalhead’s waist but he didn’t try to pin him this time. More than anything, he just wants him closer.

Eddie drooled and spit around him, taking him as far back into his throat as he could. He was genuinely surprised at how good the man beneath him tasted, half expecting his natural flavor to be as bland as Steve seemed. Maybe there was more to him he didn’t know.

Hell, Steve misjudged him so badly, he may have very well done the same.

Steve released Eddie from his hold and roughly lifted him by the chin to bring his lips to his. After yanking down his shorts, the long-haired boy straddled his waist again before reaching between them and slowly sliding his cock into his entrance.

Their eyes scrunched close as Steve’s head fell forward onto his chest and Eddie responded by threading his fingers through his fluffy hair.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”, Eddie purred as he pulled off his shirt, mewling when Steve’s lips kissed along his tattoos.

Once he was fully seated on his lap, he leaned back a little to watch Eddie bounce on top of him. The long, wavy hair he had hated fell around the boy’s face blocking those intensely, beautiful chocolate eyes that he had glared into numerous times. Those stupid tattoos he hadn’t liked were now glistening with sweat and his spit as Steve ran his mouth along his upper body.

That sarcasm he hated was now muted by moans and pants as his cock hit Eddie’s spot repeatedly causing him to clench tighter around him.

“Talk to me.”, Steve moaned. “I want to hear you.”

“Why?”, Eddie breathily chuckled. “I-I thought you hated my sass. We’re—shit—we’re not friends, right?”

Grabbing his neck, Steve flipped them around till Eddie was underneath him, grunting as he roughly thrust his cock deeper into him.

“T-Tell me why, Steve. Why do you need to hear how good you feel inside of me? Mmm—that no one has ever been this deep. Do you need to feel like you’re succeeding to get off?”

The man’s eyes met his before leaning down to place his head in the nook between Eddie’s neck and shoulder. His hips slam into his own till he hears the metalhead groan and cling to his hair as ropes of his seed hit his stomach. Steve follows close behind, panting loudly in his ear as he releases his spend inside of him.

Falling to his side, both men breathe heavily as they try to catch their breath. As Eddie pulls up his shorts and reaches for his shirt, he winces slightly as his other arm wraps around his ribs.

“They should have put ice on that.”, Steve responds casually as he grabs the boy’s shirt and hands it to him. “You’re also probably going to need to tape it up if your ribs are bruised.”

“I’m fine, Harrington, but thanks for the advice.”

“Jesus Christ.”, he huffs, rolling his eyes as he gets to his feet. “Still so fucking stubborn.”

Grabbing his shirt and his gear, Steve heads for the edge of the ring and throws his things to the floor. Allowing himself one more cursory glance, he watches Eddie struggle to put on his clothes before meeting him at the edge.

“Sit.”

“Huh?”

“Just sit! Please.”

Taken a back, Eddie does what he commands as Steve jumps down, carefully places his strong hands on the man’s sides, and guides him down beside him.

“Thank you…”

“You’re welcome. I need you 100% if we’re going to be in the ring together again for a rematch.”

As he starts to walk away, he pauses when he hears Eddie’s voice echo through arena.

“Hey, Stevie! Did you mean the fight with gloves or without?”, the metalhead smirks as he waits for an answer.

“Keep calling me that and you’ll find out soon enough.”

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bigdumbbambieyes · 2 years

Text

okay, hear me out. S3 rewrite with Billy in Robin’s role while the Mindflayer makes Neil it’s host.

like, picture it for a sec: we’d get the Billy-Steve friendship we deserved, we’d have an actual human antagonist who was shown to be canonically abusive and controlling in S2, and Billy could be a reluctant (but important) addition to The Party for S4. he’s the brawn and brains that they need.

things to consider:

we’d get Steve and Billy in matching Scoops Ahoy uniforms. maybe they both applied as lifeguards but had a fight in front of the manager so they both didn’t get the position, and they applied everywhere in Starcourt once it opened and surprise!! they were both hired at Scoops and now they have to get along or else they’ll be broke the whole summer!

Billy watching in amusement as Steve fails to hook up with girls, maybe he even makes the same scoreboard. there also wouldn’t be a need to have the moms lusting over Billy bc he has no reason to meet Karen at the motel - no predatory behaviour from her in this timeline!!

imagine the banter. billy would have something to say to everyone and it would be so funny, especially between he and Max. give me one proper sibling fight please!

while a coming out scene would be great for Billy, and i would love to see Steve react to that (like, his reaction to a gay woman he had a crush on would be sooo different from a gay man he used to beef with, let’s be real), i also want more depth from Billy since he’s not flayed and El wouldn’t be looking into his past for us. so maybe instead of a coming out scene, they talk about the fight at the Byers’ during the bathroom scene. we get a glimpse into Billy’s carefully guarded emotions (maybe even his relationship w his dad) and both Steve and Billy get to move on from that night. closure and moving on from it together as newfound friends!

Billy could be shown that he is actually a smart cookie and cracks the Russian’s code (with Steve’s help). Dustin and Steve are impressed and Dustin begins to warm up to Billy a little.

new Scoops Troop!! Billy and Steve and Dustin dynamic omg. and Erica and Billy?? imagine she kinda confronts him about what happened with him and Lucas in S2, so she’s uncertain of him bc of that, but now Billy has the chance to make things right and clear up misunderstandings. and in this timeline, he apologizes to Lucas. because Lucas deserves that so. much. and Billy should have the chance to become a better person like Steve did. and maybe Lucas doesn’t forgive him, which is justified bc he doesn’t have to forgive him at all, but he gets the apology he deserves at the very least.

Steve and Billy getting tortured together oof. that would hit hard bc imagine Billy is being punched and slapped and he’s just laughing and taunting and Steve’s like wtf. it would be a great set up for the bathroom scene - like ‘why were you laughing while we were being literally tortured??’

Billy getting to see Steve draw a charge during his ‘fight’ with the Russian soldier and being proud of him, clapping him on the back with a grin while Steve gives him a shy smile. perhaps even…a meaningful, lingering look?? a spark between them??

also Steve and Billy high as fuck together lol i just want that so bad, please!!

and while Billy is with the Scoops Troop, The Party is focused on Neil. it would be a great chance to see Max’s relationship with her step father and she notices how weird he’s being. he’s nicer to Susan, even nicer to her, but then her mom starts acting weird, too. and when she finally meets up with Billy at Starcourt when the Mindflayer manifests, they discuss everything and Billy is conflicted. he’s happy that his old man is finally getting what’s been coming to him all these years, but that’s still his dad. it’s complicated but not really touched upon but implied. (and i think that would also be a great set up for S4. he gets those weird feelings in S4, thinking ‘i wanted him to die’ but also feeling guilt because his relationship with his father is so twisted from years of abuse).

we could explore Neil’s past a bit with this timeline, too. we could get a glimpse of why he is the way he is, like we did with Billy. El could see the abuse he put Billy and his mom through. she sympathizes with Billy, but she also sees how Neil was abused, too, and feels this empathy for him. which is how she brings him out of the possession, because El is empathetic by nature, under all that anger and naivety. she knows what it’s like to abuse and be abused and want to be better than those who hurt her. and when Neil does break through, he is killed just like Billy was in S3, and Billy runs over once his dad flops to the ground. Neil grits out ‘i’m sorry’ but Billy doesn’t say anything, doesn’t forgive him. he doesn’t even cry. he just…stares, looking like the lost little boy he’s always been. and Max finally runs over to pull her brother up, to drag them both away from Neil, and Billy can’t look away from his dad’s body until it’s finally out of sight.

and ofc the season ends with Steve and Billy both working at Family Video!! with Neil and Susan gone (she would’ve been part of the MF’s army), it’s just Billy and Max now, living in that trailer. that would be such an interesting dynamic to write for S4.

anyways that’s all!! that’s my silly rewrite. Billy deserved to have a support system and a real relationship with his sister and a boy his age and it could’ve been done in S3. 🤍

#billy hargrove #harringrove #stranger things season 3 rewrite #headcanon #sorry to robin for the erasure but billy needs this more and i say that with my chest #bambiwrites

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fyodorloveclub · 2 years

Text

read to me?

anon: "Ummm Dazai making you read poetry or some shit while he fucks you into the mattress- only letting you stop when you can't even form sentences anymore"

notes: this was an anon request from my old blog that i decided to finally write!! the poem is one of my favs, "a primer for the small weird loves" by richard siken. it doesn't have any significance to the fic i just like the poem. i highlighted the actual poetry to make it less confusing :). i didn't feel like editing this sorry besties enjoy ✧˖° ♡

18+ minors dni!!

song: touch tank by quinnie

“’So you say you want a deathbed scene, the knowledge that comes before knowledge, and you-’ holy fuck!” you moaned, one hand in Dazai’s hair while the other grips the book you held so tightly the pages creased.

“Keep going,” Dazai commanded, words muffled by your thighs. You whined, breath ragged, but did as you were told.

“’-and you want it dirty. And no one can ever f-f-‘ FUCK. ‘-figure out what you want-‘” your words were cut off by an involuntary gasp as Dazai swirled his tongue around your clit.

☆☆☆

This mess started about twenty minutes prior, when you and your boyfriend had been sitting quietly on the couch together, doing your own separate things. It was a lazy Saturday evening, the two of you relishing in having absolutely nothing to do. His head was in your lap as he watched a movie, while you read. He purred softly as you played with his hair, scratching his scalp. But soon he got bored, as Dazai does, and flips onto his back so he can look up at you.

“I’m bored,” he announced.

“That’s very unfortunate,” you replied, not taking your eyes off the book in front of you.

“What are you reading?”

“A book.”

Dazai whined, bringing his hand up to bat at the book.

“Hey!” You scoffed, as you lifted it above his head to get it out of his reach.

Dazai just whined even louder, pulling at your shirt like a little kid.

“My love, could you please entertain yourself without bothering me?”

You rolled your eyes as he kicked the air, doing anything he could to make you pay attention to him.

“Is your book more important than me, your handsome sexy boyfriend?” he pouted.

“Yes.”

He gasped dramatically at this and pretended to start crying. You groaned before finally looking away from the book, then hit him on the head with it. He oofed but laughed.

“Okay, asshole, you got my attention. What now?” You rolled your eyes so hard it was almost audible.

“Will you read to me?” he asked with a stupid grin on his face.

“Will you stop being annoying if I do?”

He nodded vigorously. You sighed before picking the book back up, reciting the poem you had been reading when he decided to start being a monster.

“’The man on top of you is teaching you how to hate, see you as a piece of real estate, just another fallow field lying underneath him like a sacrifice.’”

As you read the poem out loud, Dazai flipped himself over so he was laying on his stomach, and began pressing soft kisses to your thighs.

“What are you doing?” you asked with an accusatory voice, cutting yourself off mid-sentence.

“Just keep reading.”

You just sighed before continuing. Whatever, you thought.

“’He’s turning you back into a table so he doesn’t have to eat off the floor, so he can get comfortable, pr-‘ hey!”

Dazai had moved up to your inner thighs, biting at the soft skin. He continued to do this as he started to tug down your shorts and panties.

“Will you read to me while I eat you out?” Your eyes went wide at this, clearly confused. “You reciting poetry is a major turn on.”

You chuckled but agreed, not immune to Dazai’s stupid charm.

“’-pressing against you until he fits, until he’s made a place for himself…’”

You read on as he pulled your shorts off and licked your outer lips, making you shudder. He pushed your legs apart for better access, using his fingers to spread you open. Out of the corner of your eye you saw him just staring at your pussy almost in awe. The man truly worshipped everything about you.

“’The clock ticks from five to six…’”

He dove in headfirst, immediately shoving his tongue inside your hole, making you yelp. He tongue fucked you slowly, making it agonizing. It was embarrassing just how fast he could make you melt. He licked your walls hungrily, treating your pussy like it was dessert.

“'It isn’t over yet, it’s just begun…’”

He pulled his tongue out of you and licked a fat stripe up all the way to your clit and began sucking on it, sending shockwaves through your body. You paused reading briefly to throw your head back and groan. He lifted his head up to look at you, his mouth and cheeks already dripping wet from the mix of his saliva and your juices.

“Did I say you could stop?” he prompted, voice low. You weren’t sure when he transitioned from normal Dazai to horny bossy Dazai, but you were turned on.

“’Says to himself the boy’s no good. The boy’s just no good…’”

And that is how you arrived at the current scenario.

As he focused on sucking and nipping at your clit, he slipped in two fingers and began pumping them in and out of you. You hissed loudly, clenching around his fingers. He chuckled before adding a third finger and picking up the pace. No matter how many times you did it, there was just no other feeling like Dazai’s mouth and hands being on you at the same time. You could feel the motion of him rutting his hardening cock against the couch cushion, chasing the friction.

He used his free hand to spread apart your lips even wider so he could get his entire mouth over your swollen clit, using his tongue to better massage the hypersensitive area. You yanked on his hair as you cried out, squeezing your eyes shut. He knew your body like the back of his hand, and he sure as hell showed it.

“’But he takes you in his arms and pushes your flesh around…’”

Just as you were going to mention your approaching orgasm, Dazai pulled his mouth off of you. Before you could even look at him sideways, he was hovering over you, his own pants pulled off, and thrusted into you hard.

You screamed at the sudden fullness, tensing tightly around his throbbing cock. This pulled a loud moan from the man as he draped himself over you, crashing your lips together. He was rocking into you with increasing force, bottoming out with each thrust. You wrapped your legs around his back to anchor yourself.

At this point you had forgotten about the book, though it was still stuck in your grip, but Dazai hadn’t.

“You keep reading until I say you can stop reading,” he growled.

He somehow had you in a trance as he fucked into you, giving in to his weird requests.

“’You, the now familiar boy, but you’re beautiful-‘”

“You are fucking beautiful,” Dazai interrupted, ducking his head down to bite at your neck. Your mind reeled as you felt his teeth graze against your skin, imagining the purple and blue that would likely arise the next day.

He stuck his hand up your shirt to knead the soft fat of your breast, squeezing hard before rolling your hard nipple in between his fingers.

“So fucking beautiful.”

The book fell out of your hand as he used his free hand and reposition your leg to get a better angle, fucking right into the spot he knew was right there. Your screams drowned out the sound of the book clattering to the floor.

Dazai seemed to think that you whimpering over his cock was an acceptable replacement for no longer reciting poetry, so he left you alone.

You clumsily ripped his shirt off his body so you could feel his bare skin. Wrapping your now free arms around him, you dug your nails into the meat of his shoulders as your senses were overwhelmed by the man currently inside you.

“Osamu!” you cried, eyes squeezed shut.

“Hey, angel,” he replied with a wicked smirk on his face. Your head fell back onto the coach arm with a thud.

He continued to fuck into you with a quick rhythm as he shoved two fingers in your mouth, instructing you to suck on them. You obviously listened.

He began using his now wet fingers to massage your already very overstimulated clit, and it was only seconds before you reached your orgasm, screaming his name as he pressed kisses along your jaw. Not quite there yet himself, you laid there like a ragdoll as he thrusted into you, chasing his own high. He rocked in and out with such force you knew your pelvis would be bruised. But there was nothing like visible evidence of a really, really good fuck.

He slowed down as he came but continued to fuck his cum deep inside of you, the head of his cock grazing your cervix.

He fell on top of you, both of you breathless, sweaty messes. You lifted his head up with your hands to press a kiss to his forehead, making him smile.

“Guess I should read you poetry more often.”

#dazai smut #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs smut #dazai x reader #sealed with a kiss ♡#flora’s fics

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