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disneyprincemuke · 3 months ago

Text

randomantic * op81

it's just oscar being randomly romantic, because that's the type of person you make him

pairings: oscar piastri x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

notes: noelle don't write an oscar fic that's not entirely filled with silliness and nonsense fluff challenge

(f1 masterlist)

you close your eyes and suck in a deep breath. you stand at your front door, having just inserted your key into it. you let out a shaky breath as you stare down at the door knob.

you’ve just had what felt like the longest day in a while. it feels like nothing has gone right for you at all — it’s so overwhelmingly irritating. you just know that the smallest thing will set you off and on the other side of this door is the most loving and doting man you’ve ever met in your life.

a man who doesn’t seem to have had a bad day in years, always donning a wide smile on his face with a composure you could only wish you had. you don’t want him to be the scapegoat that gets the brunt of your bad day.

you compose yourself with one last deep breath before unlocking the door. you try to sport a small grin as you push the door open. “i’m home.”

oscar’s grin meets you right at the kitchen door, leaning against the door frame as he wipes his hand on a towel. “i was wondering when you would come inside — i heard you fumbling with your keys a few minutes ago.”

“oh,” you try to laugh it off as you kick your shoes off and walk over to him, “i was trying to recall if i’d forgotten something at work.”

which, now that you think of it, is very possible. did your water bottle ever make it into your bag before you left the office?

“you’re back there in a couple of days,” oscar mutters, arms spread wide as you walk further into your apartment, “if not, i’ll go over and pick it up for you.”

he wraps you into a tight and firm hug, making you feel relieve, even if it was just a little. he grabs either side of your cheek and mushes his lips onto yours. “i made us dinner.”

you hum and furrow your brows as he takes your hand to lead you in. “what? but it’s my turn to make dinner.”

oscar shrugs with a small smile. he looks over his shoulder and gives you a quick wink. “i was feeling inspired.”

you almost burst into tears when the dining table comes into view — two plates with a bottle of wine and a bouquet of flowers on the clean table. you’d been wrecking your brain for dinner options tonight. you’d considered ordering in, but it’s oscar’s crunch time right before the season so he has to watch his diet.

“do you like it?” oscar beams, puffing his chest proudly. he grabs the bouquet and reaches out to you. “and some flowers — we can’t have a date without that.”

“i love it, oscar,” you smile, reeling him in to press a kiss on his lips. “thank you so much.”

you wake up alone in your bed. oscar had an early morning, heading into a busy day.

you briefly remember sitting up for 5 seconds, long enough for him to give you a quick kiss and a tight hug before bidding you goodbye. though you wish you’d have woken up slightly earlier or stayed awake for longer to be with him.

you feel a sense of dread at the empty day ahead of you, working from home in an empty house is daunting for the week you’re having. you can almost tell how much you wouldn’t get done at all with the pit in your stomach and the numbness at your fingertips.

you wanted to send him a text, asking him to take the day off and come home to be with you. but you refuse to be that person.

you can’t simply ask your busy boyfriend to drop his obligations just to spend time with you because you’re a little under the weather. it’s not always about you.

sighing, you turn over to face oscar’s side of the bed. you pull the blankets around your body a little tighter.

you flinch at the stuffed bunny sitting upright, probably put there by oscar before leaving, with a bright orange post-it loosely stuck to its paw.

‘good morning, my love :)’

you smile. these little post-it’s are rare to find during this off-season, but they are always appreciated wherever they are.

the good morning note, however, is a first. oscar’s made a habit of leaving a few as reminders for you for days that he has to separate from you at the crack of dawn. they are often sweet, usually just reminders, but always in such a loving manner. how he manages to make simple post-it reminders sound so thoughtful, you’ll never know.

when you make it to the kitchen, there’s another stuck to the door of the fridge.

‘left some documents behind and had to u-turn. i got you breakfast on my drive back <3 fridge, second shelf’

you open the fridge and sure enough, there’s a sandwich with a cup of iced coffee sitting pretty on the second shelf. there’s another post-it.

‘eat well, pretty’

you proceed to eat breakfast with the biggest grin on your face.

oscar walks into the room, in the midst of dressing up for his busy day. you’re sitting by the edge of the bed, slouched as you type away on your phone. probably answering some emails before you head right back to sleep.

he grins to himself and creeps across the bed over to you. when he realises you hadn’t acknowledged his presence, he softly hums and gently presses his lips on your bare shoulder. his other arm is slung over your stomach as he pulls you in.

“what’s got my girl so busy this morning?” he hums against your skin, reluctantly pulling you back down to lie with him in bed. “it’s too early for you to be up.”

you groan and throw your head back, throwing your arms back. “answering a silly important email that was sent at 3am.”

“ridiculous,” he mutters. he tightens his arms around you and sigh. “i wish i could lay in bed with you all day. i’ll miss you today.”

“i’ll miss you too. i hate working from home when you’re not around.” you wiggle in his arms to face him, grabbing the sides of his face. “i should shrink myself so you could put me in your little pocket.”

he laughs at the absurdity of your idea. though, he doesn’t entirely hate it. he leans forward and nudges your nose with his. “i told you: quit your job. follow me around all day — i promise i’ll treat you like a princess.”

oscar jokes about this often: getting you to quit your job so you could simply be by his side all the time. while it sounded fun and relaxing, it simply is never as easy as just quitting and being his fulltime wag that watched him in the garage every weekend.

it’s just not a life that sounds like it would be for you at all.

“don’t be silly,” you whisper. you nuzzle your face into his shoulder with a soft sigh. “i can’t just do that.”

“ah, i know.” he squeezes your hips, thinking of a way he could somehow manipulate his day into ending earlier. perhaps there’s something he could forgo so he can come home earlier to you? maybe he’ll skip the gym and go tomorrow instead. “you know what?”

you hum, “what?”

“let’s go for a fancy dinner outside tonight,” oscar giggles. “i’ll call in for a reservation, okay? just show up and i’ll take care of the rest.”

you raise an eyebrow. it’s not that you don’t often go on dates with oscar in a week. in fact, you would love to argue that you and oscar go on more dates than an average couple does.

this week just feels different. perhaps you’re just having a worse week than usual. you start to wonder if he can tell that you’re having a hard week.

“are you sure? aren’t you busy?”

“never for you,” oscar smiles. “so, i’ll pick you up at 7, okay?”

not a lot of people could have guessed that oscar is one of the biggest perpetrators of hogging a karaoke mic.

your week has finally ended, and oscar has dragged you along to a small outing with his group of friends for a quick hang out before the season starts. you don’t even remember who suggest the thought of renting a room to do some karaoke; could have been fred, or maybe even oscar himself.

“oh, man,” logan throws his arms into the air when a familiar beat comes on. he holds his head in his hands in defeat. “who let him have the mic?”

“i swear i didn’t let him queue this many songs!” fred defends himself with a soft cry, pointing at the central machine in front of him. “they’re all love songs too!”

his friends’ groans echo in the room as oscar picks up the mic proudly. he puts his cocktail down on the table in the centre of the room before he turns over to you, sly smile and the mic pointed over at you. “this one’s for my beautiful girlfriend.”

logan scowls. “gross.”

“shut the fuck up,” oscar mutters, before walking over to you. he holds a hand out to you and grins. “don’t mind them, they’ve just never been loved the way you love me. get up, you’re the lucky girl i get to serenade for the rest of our lives.”

fred scoffs, a hand over his chest. “okay, ouch.”

@foreveralbon

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke f1

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 1 year ago

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DOWN BAD- P.B PARKER

Pairing- Jock! Peter x Nerd! Reader (enemies to… lovers?)

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Peter Parker constantly nags you, and you hate his guts (naturally). So what better way to mellow the hate by being paired together for a class project? And why, if you hate his guts, do you want to touch him so bad?

Warnings: Making out, suggestive sexual content, dry humping, teasing, swearing etc…

Notes: It’s been a while, I apologize if my writing is a bit rusty! I hope you enjoy nonetheless, I had a fun time writing, and I really did miss it (Taylor Swifts new album really inspired me too!) I am using my phone to post for the first time, I hope to go back and format/ edit if need be when I can use my laptop again. Thank you for all the support :)

“Don’t look at me like that.” You huffed, eyes sharp as daggers as your cool gaze slid over to your target and struck its mark.

Peter Parker. Bullseye.

You could feel his lingering attention solely focused on you, a coy smirk upon his lips as he tapped his pencil against the wooden desk, its dull echo like nails on a chalkboard. A taunting metronome in the back of your mark as he leaned over to tower over you in his seat.

It was too close to yours for your liking.

“Like what pipsqueak?” he murmured, drowning out the professor's droning voice as he dragged on. You wished you could hit him with the textbook in your bag. Both of them, honestly.

“Like you’re thrilled for this. Don’t act like you like me.”

“Well I do like you.” He smiled, beaming ear to ear.

For him, it was the best day of his life. Getting randomly paired with “whoever you’re sitting next to, I don’t care.” (the professor's words, not yours), was a thrill for him, he got to pick on the quiet, shy girl more than usual.

Which would be a shock, considering the sheer amount he did already, always finding his way next to you to tease you, especially with and to his stupid jockey friends. This project was worth thirty percent of your grade. You couldn’t afford this.

“Well I don’t like you. So fuck off.” You heard a low whistle from behind you, a chuck alongside it from his friends. “Kitty has claws?” Peter whistled, eyebrow raising in mock surprise as you shifted your legs to the other side of the chair, angling away from him.

“Oh you’re in for it now Parker” Bucky laughed as you covered your ears in an attempt to drown them out. You felt like you were in middle school again, the way they mocked you. And what made it worse was that it got to you. Not that the jokes and remarks meant anything much, but it was just the sheer annoyance of it all.

You had thrived to be a straight A student your entire life, and in this class… you could feel them slipping. Taking a deep breath, you clenched your pen harder in your hand, pressing so hard the page snagged as you wrote.

You could still feel his eyes on you, flickering over from under his glasses ,his muscles flexing subtly under his blue t-shirt. You pretended not to look, and to not focus on the fact he was extremely attractive. You spent the rest of the hour doing just that, scolding yourself for any indecent thought you had ever had about him, ever. By the time the professor had snapped his laptop shut, the projector turning dark as students started to talk amongst themselves as they packed up, you had half a page of notes, max.

“I’ll be in touch.” he leaned down and whispered, hand lingering by your chair as he slipped by. “Fuck you.”

He just threw his head back and laughed, his friend group joining him as he looked back. And winked. You groaned. This was going to be three weeks of hell.

—————————————————————————

It was a Thursday when you got a text from him. An unknown number flashed on your screen as you lay face down on your bed, contemplating life and if this class was seriously worth it or not.

The buzz of the phone had your head snapping up, confused until it suddenly dawned on you.

Unknown: Think we should start brainstorming for this thing pipsqueak?

Well fuck, you thought, wanting to throw your phone across the room. This class wasn’t that important, right? (It was).

Taking a deep breath, you sat up as your thumbs started to fly across the screen.

You: Who is this?

Unknown: I’m hurt, pips. Truly.

You: I think you have the wrong number.

You smirked. Okay, who were you kidding… this was kind of fun. Kind of.

Peter: It’s Peter, you jerk. Are you really going to make me spell it out for you?

You: Peter who? Doesn’t ring a bell.

Good. Knock him down a few pegs. You giggled to yourself, quickly stopping once you realised why exactly you were kicking your feet like a school girl, for who exactly. You layed back down, head muddled with meaningless thoughts that jumbled as you waited for his response. Grabbing a stuffie, you hugged it close to your chest, feeling it rise and fall as you caught your breath, grounding yourself. Why on earth did this mean so much to you? Why did his texts, something so easily ignorable- suddenly a waiting game?

Peter: Ha ha, very funny pips.

You: How did you even get my number anyways?

Peter: Long story, I had to go on a bit of a hunt. A friend, of a friend of a friend, you get the point. I can be very persuasive ;)

Nope. You thought. Don’t give into this.

You: I’m sure.

Peter: You wanna come over on the weekend or meet at Braxston’s to start… brainstorming?

You: I don’t want to do anything of the sort, but if that gets this over with as soon as possible- then sure. Only one of us has a brain to storm anyways.

Peter: You’ll regret that pips.

You clicked off your phone, a ghost of a smirk on your face. His threat surprisingly didn’t seem like a real threat, but actual light hearted teasing, not the kind he often did.

Fuck. You were supposed to be hating him. You did hate him. It was only three weeks with him. You weren’t sure if you meant that with relief or disappointment.

————————————————————————————

It was disappointment.

You sighed, closing your eyes as you rubbed your creased temple. It was nearly midnight , and your books were still scattered across the desk you occupied, the library a ghost town considering it was a Friday night. Braxston library tended to be on the empiter side, which is why you preferred it. It was the oldest library on campus, smelling of old pages and cedarwood.

Sometimes, when you needed a break you would get up and run your fingers across the leather spines, or climb the ladder for a change of view of the stained glass windows. But tonight, you lacked the motivation to even bother standing. It had been a long night, filled with cramming and stress. Pen and highlighter stained your hands as you shook them out, cramped and aching. For the last hour you had solely focused on the final you and Peter had to pull out your ass, coming up with backup plans with the worry he would abandon you completely.

Topics, ideas, theories- god you didn’t even know anymore. Your body lacked caffeine, your iced coffee long gone. You grew tired of this mindless work, sliding off your headphones to admire the near empty room around you.

Suddenly, you wished it was completely empty.

Peter looked just as shocked to see you, eyes widening in surprise, backpack slung over his shoulder, hair ruffled and eyebags prominent as if he had fallen asleep and been startled awake.

“Pips? I thought we weren’t supposed to meet until tomorrow?” He made his way over to you, inviting himself to lean over you, on your desk. You stared up at him with a look of amusement.

“We don’t have to meet at all. It’s very bold you assume I’m here to see you, of all people.” you snorted. His eyebrow raised. “So who are you here to meet?”

“Two papers and exam prep. You?”

“More or less the same” he smirked, and you felt butterflies start to churn in your stomach. “Sounds like great fun. I’m sure they’re lovely.” you said, snarky comment slipping out before you could stop it, turning in your seat as you often did around him so he wouldn’t see the fluster and nerves in your demeanour whenever you were near him.

He leaned down, breath warm against the column of your neck. You couldn't breathe. You could not fucking breathe with him this close to you. The rich scent of his cologne made you dizzy, it intoxicated you as you stared at your laptop screen, as if it possessed the knowledge of the entire universe.

“You know, you can’t avoid me forever. You’re gonna have to confront me at some point, pip.”

“I don’t know what you're talking about” you snarled softly, staring at the coy, cockly little smirk you wanted to wipe off his face as he stood. “Sure you don’t.” He nodded his head towards your screen, with a wink.

“Good song.” he smiled, before he was off. You continued to stare at him as he walked out the door, not looking back once. Not a care in the world as he slipped on his own headphones, and around the corner.

Eyes moved down to stare at the pause button of your song, lyrics burning into your ears at the thought of him listening to it- and enjoying it.

Down bad, waking up in blood, staring at the sky, come back over and pick me up- fuck it if I can’t have us, I might just not get up, I might stay down bad.

You were so incredibly fucked.

———————————————————

You took a deep breath. Then another.

You let the crisp, cool night air wash over your burning skin, the faint smell of weed tickling your senses, probably from a house down the street. It was a pretty busy neighbourhood, full of students you recognized from afar on campus. You didn’t associate with the more ‘popular’ kids, if that could even be considered a thing past high school.

You tried to shake off the uneasiness that stuck with you, cracking your knuckles as you tried to prepare yourself to not only see Peter, but to interact with him- in his house. Most likely for hours. You knew you probably looked like a complete idiot out on the sidewalk, just near his house but you had to muster some form of courage.

All you could see was a faint light from what looked like the living room, and a light upstairs- you presumed his room. No sign of life other than that.

You thought of his words, how twisted they sounded. You can’t avoid me forever. You’re gonna have to confront me at some point, pip.

Fuck it.

You slipped from your hiding spot (from Peter, you were placed behind a large tree in his front yard, but god knows what people driving by thought), and mentally prepared yourself for his roommates to answer the door, making fun of you before he put the cherry on top. Practically leaping up the porch stairs, you raced to the door, knocking quickly.

You wanted this over and done with. Your palms were clammy and your stomach churned viciously as you heard footsteps near the door. It took everything in you to stay rooted to the ground and to not flee, and when Peter appeared, you feared the opposite.

How the hell you were supposed to move with him in that slutty little fit, a pair of grey sweatpants slung low on his waist, his v-line and happy trail on full display… his toned abs and arms in a little white muscle shirt… gods you didn’t know. You were sure your tongue fully hung out of your mouth like some cartoon character as you took him in.

“Took you long enough” he said with a snort, adjusting his glasses, sliding them further up his nose. You didn’t even know he had glasses. Did he wear contacts? Had he worn them and you just didn’t notice? No, surely that wasn’t the case, you noticed everything he did. It was like he sucked all of the air out of the atmosphere whenever he walked in a room. It was suffocating, in a way. Of course you had to look at him, and you were sure you weren't the only one.

“I was admiring the greenery.”

“I saw that. I wasn’t sure the maple needed to be examined that long.” he smirked, and your felt your fists instinctively clench.

He had saw you- so you were fucked and now the only logical thing to do was to run into a brick wall. Perfect, got it.

“I enjoy living in the moment, and I don’t take nature for granted.’ you huffed, attempting to compose yourself as he stepped aside, motioning for you to enter. “I’m sure. Don’t worry it was cute.” he smiled, running a hand through his tosseled hair.

You slid off your shoes, setting them next to his worn in converse you always saw him wear. You noticed the other pairs were missing, not even a missing lace to be found.

“Where are your roommates?” you asked as entered, surveying the open space. It was surprisingly tidy for a boys place, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of Peter rushing around attempting to clean up before you came (though you doubted he would ever do that). Still, it was nice to think about.

Little traces of “boy” still lingered, silly little signs scattered across the walls, flags and such, empty, crushed beer and poking out from the recycling bins. “I kicked them out, because I figured you would want to contentrate.” he said.

Yeah like I’m going to be able to conetrate with you looking that fucking fine. Ha.

“That’s considerate. I’m surprised you even know what that is, Parker. I’m impressed.”

He snorted, throwing a little look back your way as he lead you up the stairs, presumably to his room. “I’m surprised you know how to walk up stairs. You have Bambi legs.” he teased, mocking your clumsiness. You cursed him internally. Maybe out loud too, judging by his laugh.

You tried to stifle down the butterflies. You were not about to flirt with him. You were not about to let your developing feelings expand. You hated him. He was mean and he was an asshole.

You were simply here to get this project done. That’s it.

“You’re an asshole.”

“I know.” was all he said, turning down a hall to an open door, light glowing faintly- beckoning to you. You appreciated his refusal to use the overhead light- not that you’d tell him that. He’d probably look at you like you were insane.

“I see you clean for girls you bring over.” you noted, observing his (surprisingly) decently clean room.

“Bold of you to assume I cleaned. Maybe I’m always this tidy.” he smirked, arms flexing over and behind his head as he sat down in his office chair, man-spreading as he stretched.

You tried so hard not to stare. And failed miserably.

“I would’ve thought you cleaned up for ladies you bring to bed.”

His eyebrows arched. “Should I have prepared then?”

Something like churning fire burned in your belly, slithering lower and lower.

“Don’t start with me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it pip.” he smiled coyly, knowing he had gotten you flustered. “May I?” you nodded to his bed, trying to ignore your feelings as you sat down. Fanning your skirt out, you tucked your legs in before opening your bag, attempting to cover your thighs with your bag as much as you could- his cool gaze staring lasers into your bare skin.

“So… if we have to base this on a creature in the wild…”

“Jumping straight to the point aren’t we?” he asked and you frowned in confusion.

“What did you want me to do foreplay or something beforehand?” you asked, your word choice more than intentional. You swore a little pink tinted his cheeks as he swiveled around.

“Right to it then. Okay, I was thinking spiders. Specifically their venom and social behaviours.”

You blinked. Jesus okay he had thought about this. This was not what you were expected.

“Elaborate Parker.”

He smiled. “ From what I’ve seen, not a lot is known about the venom entirely. From a predator-prey aspect.. I’ve mainly seen stuff on specific components evolving to target specific sites on cell membrains of prey tissue, we could work with that to start. Maybe expand on the social aspect and evolution.”

You were stunned. This was… more than you could’ve hoped for. Suddenly you felt bad for all the doubt aimed towards him over the few days leading up to this meeting.

“Hmm. I like it.”

“Did you have any ideas you had brewing in that genius brain of yours?” he asked, making you blush internally.

“I had some stuff just in case, but it was just random jots I’m not too proud of.”

He scoffed. “You came prepared with backup stuff?!”

You just shrugged. “Do you blame me?”

“Kinda.” he laughed. “Start thinking of me more highly pips. I even have access to a brown widow, we could do some experiments.”

You winced at the thought of actually studying a spider up close, but it was part of the job. Whatever could get this done the fastest, and you had to applaud him for providing some of your own evidence you could actually showcase.

He caught your wince, and you could feel the teasing start to start. It was like bait for him, he loved it. “The spider may bite, but I won’t. That is, unless you want me too.” he winked, and you fought the urge not to chuck your laptop at his handsome face.

“You’re gross Parker.”

“Oh I’m sure you think I am. Doesn’t make a difference to me.”

You were going to strangle him. “Let’s just focus and get this project done as soon as we can, yeah? Please.”

You riffled through your bag, grabbing different coloured pens and your notebook, skimming through your random thoughts and jots.

“Whatever you say pip.”

“Start researching Parker.” And that was that.

—————————————————————

A few hours had passed, and so far you were quite impressed with how much the two of you had gotten done. For the most part, the two of you had stayed on opposite sides of the room. If he wanted to make a move, he wasn’t physically doing it, and his roommates still hadn’t come home yet.

Though as the hours passed, he had made his way closer to you- ever so slightly. From his desk he nudged over closer and closer, his laptop landing in his lap as he worked.

“What source are you working from right now?” you asked, not bothering to cast your gaze up as you continued to type, fingers flying over the keyboard as you bit your lip in concentration. You failed to notice his eyes darting between your lips and your breasts that poked out slightly as you slouched over, licking his lips hungrily.

“Some research paper. Here.”

You let out a little oomph in surprise as he plopped down beside you, sprawled across his bed as he enveloped you in his makeshift fortress. He stared at you with such longing you felt faint, having to stop your work to pull yourself together.

Fuck.

He nodded towards it, and you realized you had been staring at him longer than you intended, forgetting about the paper completely. “Oh, yeah okay let me look.” you murmured, taking the laptop from his hand to slide it across your lap, the fan whirling softly, the warmth of it adding more coals to the fire you felt already.

He was still staring.

Please look away before I want to kiss you. Or do more then kiss you. I’m supposed to be hating you, stop please.

You tried your best to read and concentrate, but it was next to no use. All you could focus on was him, his fingers drumming on the comforter near your thigh (what man has a comforter anyways?!), and his gaze on you, that was heavy with something. Want, perhaps? Lust? Or you were delusional. Very possible.

“It’s um, it’s good. I like it, I think there’s lots of good… stuff here.”

“Good stuff huh?” he asked sarcastically, a smirk plastered across his face.

He knew. The fucker knew you were down bad.

“Yeah. You know what I mean.” you grumbled, staring back down at your screen.

“I do know what you mean. Do you know what I mean?” he asked, hand inching closer and closer to your thigh- teasing you. You took a deep breath, grounding yourself.

You could push your hatred aside for just a few minutes. It was okay, just this once. Right?

You bit your lip, and fuck if that didn’t turn him on even more. Nodding to him, as if he could speak to you telepathically.

Yes, this is okay. Please touch me. Just a little, even is fine.

“Maybe you should explain a little more, Parker.”

His fingers skimmed the edge of your skirt, warm to the touch as they stroked your skin softly, just a whisper of him lingering. Goosebumps lingered in their wake, and you pushed your laptop off to the side, not caring where it landed on the bed. Just not next to him.

“How much more?”

His voice was low. Deep. Needing. You wanted more.

Another stroke of his fingers on your thigh, closer to where you wanted him the most made you shiver, toes curling. His gaze never left yours, never faultered. Instead of its usual lightness, his teasing and bullying- his eyes were dark with lust. Nothing but his full attention was on you, and you couldn’t help but shudder as he leaned in closer.

Another hand landed on your thigh. “Yeah?” he asked, voice rough as you nodded quickly. “Mhmmm..- oh!” you let out a little gasp as he swiftly grabbed you, swinging you over to straddle his lap, tossing you as if you weighed nothing.

You hated that you found it hot.

He smirked, leaning forward- so close you could feel his thudding heart with a small hand gesture sliding across his chest, could feel his breath catching. Just a small little gap between his lips and yours.

“You’re going to regret this.” you murdered, fingers curling into his shirt, twisting the soft fabric.

“I won’t. Will you?”

“I might.”

His smile grew.

“ I still hate you, you know.”

“I know. And you look so damn hot when you do.” He pulled you closer, fingers digging into your skin, needing you closer and closer despite the two of you practically forming one being.

A clash of teeth and tongue happened, rough and harsh- full of hate and need. A hatred for your need for him. Why did you need him? Of all people?

Because he was so fucking fine.

A hand slipped under your skirt to cup your ass, squeezing it slightly. You ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it as your hips moved on their own account- causing a groan to slip from his lips.

You’d do anything to hear it again.

“This is so wrong.” was all you could moan as his lips worked their way down your neck, tracing your jaw before nipping at your earlobe.

“I don’t do right, pips. You know this.”

“Mhm. But you hate me.”

He laughed against your skin, and you rocked your hips again, a little slap to your asscheek making you jolt.

“Whatever makes you sleep better at night, pips. Whatever you want to think.” he sighed, massaging the skin as you toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

You needed his lips on yours. You didn’t want to even try to decipher what his words meant, your head was foggy with want. You were slipping into a puddle of bliss, finally letting the restraint you held on a tight leash go- freeing the want and pure desire.

Yes, you wanted him. Yes, you hated him. And yes, he teased you. It hurt- but this didn’t. This was a soothe to his constant jabs, a salve to the wounds he caused.

“You feel so good. I want you so bad.” you confessed, causing him to moan again.

Yes. Yes, please.

“You’re killing me.”

“Good. It’s payback for the way you treat me.” you smirked, kissing him again. Hard, fast, rough. Mean.

Until he just… stopped.

Pulled away slightly, making you raise an eyebrow with confusion. His cheeks tinted slightly pink, hair messy and eyes wide with excitement, eager to keep going. To go further. So why did he just- stop?

“Parker?”

He smiled coyly.

“Don’t we have work we need to be doing?” he asked sarcastically- and you felt your stomach drop. He was teasing you. He was doing this just to get under your skin, to leave you high and dry and needing. Knowing damn well nothing could possibly get done now but him.

“You- you just want to get back to work? After that?”

“I want to do the dirtiest things imaginable to you, pips. I want to do so many things. But if we keep going and get nothing done, you’ll regret it and hate me. If we get work done, you’ll hate me too. I rather you hate me but feel secure with this, at least.” he murmured, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

It was tender, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “So you just, want to work? Did I do something wrong?” you asked.

“Gods no. But it’s too easy if I just give it to you like that. You know me, pips- I tease. Maybe if you’re good and get more work done we can have some harmless, regretless fun.” he winked, sliding his hands down to your hips, picking you up again to toss you gently on his pillows, kissing your hand with a wink as he stood to go back to his desk.

Oh you were fucked. So, so fucked.

“I heard that.” he laughed, and you buried your head in your hands. This was going to be a long three weeks indeed.

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clairewritesfanfics · 21 days ago

Note

Omg I love how you write Mark and his variants!

Okay I may or may not have dived into a deep hole of neglected batfam reader so is it okay if I request for reader to happen to just find an escape through a Angstrom portal that appeared randomly in her bedroom, so just peace out and was transported into the Invincible universe where she met Mark (and his variants), fall in love and told him about how horrible her family is.

Only for him to find a way to open up a portal to her world (this is mostly goes for the variants instead main mark), and caused havoc on the DC world and reader has to stop him, confront her family and leave to her new home with him

Author's Note: My last request! (technically, it's not) YAHOO. And my first Batfam fanfic.

Your Character Settings: AFAB, daughter of Bruce Wayne and an unknown woman

“Would like seconds, miss?” Alfred asked after you finished your meal.

Tonight's dinner was a hefty serving of tomato and basil spaghetti. Before you moved in with the Waynes, your meals were usually jam and bread or a cup of instant noodles. The old you would have eaten as much as you were allowed. The old you would have gotten angry at you for not asking for another serving. But you weren't living paycheck to paycheck on a cashier's salary anymore.

“I'm fine,” you answered the butler. You glanced around the long table. Alfred said it was improper for servants to dine with the masters of the home, so you ate alone again. You didn't know why you felt upset. Even after months of the same routine, your disappointment continued to fill half your stomach.

“Very well. Tonight's dessert is a chocolate ganache cake served with black tea. I take it that you will be having your slice in your room?”

You smiled.

“I’ll have it upstairs in fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you.”

“I hope this time you actually answer the door. I don’t mind leaving the food outside but tea should be appreciated hot.”

“I’m sorry, you know how it is when I get in the zone.”

“How many words did you write today?”

You beamed. “Exactly two thousand just this morning. I’m hoping to get another thousand before midnight.”

“I hope you do, maybe you can finally start waking up before noon.”

You laughed, standing up from your seat.

Alfred was the only one in this entire mansion to actually hold full conversations with you.

Dear old dad was always away on business trips. Your younger half-brother Damian never uttered a word to you, only regarded you with disdain and walked away before introductions were over. Tim was polite enough to nod in greeting–when he was lucid, which was seldom the case every time you saw him. Dick was nice, he smiled and made small talk when he was around, but you can count on one hand the number of times he was at the manor, or in Gotham in general.

You had another brother. His photos were rare, finding one was like finding an Easter egg. On the outside, he was no different from the others with his black hair and blue eyes, and from what you’ve seen of him, he could be blood-related to Dick. But Alfred said that Jason was an orphan, too.

Little Jason, always smiling brightly in every image you found. He died years before you arrived here. You liked to pretend that he would be exactly what you wished for when Mister Wayne invited you to live with the family: a kind, present and supportive older brother.

You doubt it was healthy to project such feelings on not just a ghost but a stranger’s ghost, but pretending to have someone care beyond the bare minimum helped you adjust to your life as a Wayne kid.

Alfred let you borrow books from Jason’s room and you made a point to treat every novel with care and refused to fold the pages or write on them. Jason really loved romance books and happily ever afters, and reading his collection inspired to take up writing. Hobbies were a luxury you couldn’t afford while juggling two part-time jobs, but now you had all the time in the world.

You stared at your monitor. Did you jinx yourself earlier?

You’ve hit a wall for today’s chapter.

The insertion point blinked mockingly at you.

You only needed a thousand more words. That’s child’s play, but whatever you typed did not meet your standards, even for a first draft.

You checked the time.

You’ve been sitting here for ten minutes. Usually, you’ll be typing like crazy the moment your butt was on the chair.

You plopped your elbows on your desk and squeezed your cheeks, an exasperated sigh leaving your mouth.

Ten minutes feels like forever when you’re trying to start something important.

Maybe a sugar boost will help.

Just as you thought of this, you overheard movement outside.

Smiling, you rushed to open the door.

“I was beginning to think you forgot about me–”

Your lips twitched as you were greeted by the sight of Damian and Tim, holding a comically large mug of coffee. They were quarreling when your sudden appearance caught them off guard.

“Hi.”

Damian’s lips pursed and he grumbled something under his breath.

“It’s rare to see you guys here,” you said plainly.

Tim laughed awkwardly. “I guess so.”

“Did you eat dinner already?”

“I–”

Damian pushed his back. “Let’s go, Drake, we’re busy.”

“Right, um, sorry–” Tim threw you an apologetic smile “–see you around.”

You smiled back as politely as you could. “See you.” There was no point in getting offended, you were the oldest one in this hallway and you were too exhausted to feel angry.

You watched Damian nudge Tim even farther away until they disappeared from view.

Shaking your head softly, you stepped back inside your room and shut the door. You weren’t a warm person, but you didn’t have a family before. It was always just you bouncing between foster homes and sleeping in dumpsters when you had no other choice. You had no one to fall back on, and you were prepared to live the rest of your life like that, because what other choice was there?

But then Mister Wayne arrived in the 24-hour mart while you worked the graveyard shift. Dingy apartments with creepy neighbors were replaced with a Gilded Age mansion. Hours spent on your feet catering to all sorts of customers became days of ennui (you learned that word from one of Jason’s books). Sodium-loaded canned and instant foods were now sodium-loaded fancy meals. You were grateful, and while it hurt not to have the family you’ve always dreamed of, you can deal with the wall between you as long as you never had to go back to being actually alone.

You returned to your desk. The blinking line on the word document continued mocking you.

You reached for the latest novel you borrowed from Jason’s personal collection, A Little Princess, and flipped back to where you stopped yesterday, at Chapter Four: Lottie.

“Things happen to people by accident," she used to say. "A lot of nice accidents have happened to me. It just HAPPENED that I always liked lessons and books, and could remember things when I learned them. It just happened that I was born with a father who was beautiful and nice and clever, and could give me everything I liked. Perhaps I have not really a good temper at all, but if you have everything you want and everyone is kind to you, how can you help but be good-tempered? I don't know"—looking quite serious—"how I shall ever find out whether I am really a nice child or a horrid one. Perhaps I'm a HIDEOUS child, and no one will ever know, just because I never have any trials.”

You paused. You haven’t read A Little Princess before, but you’ve seen the film multiple times because one of your foster mothers adored it.

Family? Love? They were nice, but you didn’t need them.

It was true that you were Bruce Wayne’s illegitimate kid and he took you in out of a sense of responsibility. You weren’t a child anymore, far from it, most people your age are in college while you just finished your GED. You haven’t spoken with Mister Wayne about university and frankly, you were too scared; what would he or the others think? Would they think you were getting too greedy?

Pride and dreams were reserved for people who can afford them. You may share Bruce’s blood but it was clear that he loved his sons more, regardless of their origin.

Food, shelter–money, that’s what you needed, and the Waynes gave it to you. You had no right to complain or wish for more. You didn’t want to reach for the sun only to end up getting burned.

You were about to continue reading when a green light illuminated your eyes. You looked away from the page and saw a green hole forming on the floor, right in front of the door. A faint shearing sound accompanied its undulating outline as it grew bigger.

You set down the book and walked closer. You can see a different place inside the emerald ring. This wasn’t some hole, it was a portal.

Honestly, not the weirdest thing for a Gothamite.

Still though…

Against all common sense, you knelt down and glanced inside. You were usually smarter than this, not to toot your own horn, but your intelligence is what kept you alive in Gotham for all these years; however, something about this portal called out to you. You dipped one hand inside.

The air was warmer than it was in your room.

You were going to pull back when–

knock, knock

“Miss?”

You yelped, caught off guard and lost your balance–you fell straight into the portal.

Main Mark

He was doing his usual routine, flying around, helping people and preventing city-destroying disasters when he heard your screaming and caught you just in time.

You thanked him and asked if you could please take you back to Gotham.

He raised his eyebrows at you. “What’s Gotham?”

“Crap.”

You both figured out that you were on a parallel Earth and he offered to let you stay with him until you found a way back.

Debbie was a sweetheart. She was super understanding and kind and you imprinted on her instantly. You didn’t want to be a burden so you helped maintain the house and cooked for them.

Mark fell in love with you, because of course, he did. He found himself getting more and more excited to finish his missions early just so he can come home to your smile. You liked him, too, you didn’t know if it was love, but when he found the courage to ask you out you agreed, hoping that maybe you’ll learn.

It was a relatively simple love story, world-hopping aside. You and Mark were friends first who soon became soulmates. You didn’t mind that he missed dates and you kept yourself busy helping Debbie as a real estate agent.

You supported Mark throughout his struggles, listened to his problems and comforted him when he was in pain. In turn, he taught you how to love, and maybe more importantly, how to be loved. He surprised you with gifts–nothing big but always extraordinary–like daisies he found while flying over the countryside or a bracelet that reminded him of you. He always asked if you were hungry or thirsty before going to get his own snack, and even when you said no he’d return with your own food and drink. He looked at you that made you unable to look at him, he made you shy in the best way possible. He was everything you didn’t know you wanted.

***

When a portal appeared again, it wasn’t green, it was gold–and the men on the other side didn’t hesitate when they jumped into Mark’s universe.

They weren’t violent, but they were not nice. Invincible got into a fight with the tiny one in red and green. The “hero” who called himself Nightwing was friendly, but Mark could tell he was on edge like the rest of them.

“We’re looking for a girl,” Nightwing said, flashing a holographic album full of your photos. Neither you nor Mark knew anything about your family’s nightly activities so your boyfriend became more suspicious of these masked heroes.

“Why? What’s wrong with her?”

Mark could tell that everyone knew that he knew who you were, but Nightwing remained calm. “We’re not going to hurt her. It’s hard to believe since we’re basically aliens, but we just want to bring her home. Her family misses her.”

That made Mark scoff. You told him about your family. You didn’t hate them, but Mark certainly did. You were… too used to loneliness. And that pissed him off. You were amazing, you deserved nothing but warmth and your so-called family ignored you.

He wanted nothing more than to flip these guys off with a message, “Tell her family that she’s happier here and that she doesn’t need them holding her back,” but that wasn’t his decision to make.

“I know her,” Invincible said. “I’ll tell her about you guys, but if she says she doesn’t want to come back, you leave her alone. Got that?”

“That–”

“No,” Batman said firmly. “She’s coming back. She needs her family.”

Mark’s eye twitched, but he kept his cool. “We’ll see.”

“I can’t believe it,” you muttered, gripping tightly on your copy of Pride and Prejudice like it was a stress ball.

Mark had been late for date night, no biggie, so you spent the evening reading a novel on your TBR list. When he came back from patrol, his whole body was tense, his face solemn when he pulled off his mask. He then joined you at the table and explained what happened.

“Talk to me, baby. What’re you thinking about?” He asked, placing a grounding hand over your cold fingers.

You let go of the book and squeezed his hand. “I’m not sure. After a year, I was sure that I’d be here forever–and I would’ve been okay–happy with that, but now…”

“I know.” He thumbed your knuckles. “What’re you going to do? Are you..”

Were you planning to go back?

“I don’t know.” You looked into his eyes. “What should I do, Mark?”

He wanted to grab you by the shoulders and beg you to open your eyes. You were miserable back in Gotham. You were better off here, with him.

But instead, he cradled both of your hands between his and he smiled. “I can’t tell you what to do, only that I’ll support you no matter what.”

Main Mark is the only one who will step aside if you decide to return and fix your relationship with your family. It will hurt. And he will crack when it’s time to say goodbye; he’ll pull you into his arms and beg you to stay with him, but if you have made up your mind, he won’t force you otherwise.

His variants aren’t so selfless. Omni, Head Cap, Maskless, No Goggles and Full Mask won’t even bother telling you about the portal appearing, intent on keeping you by their side.

Flaxan, Target and Viltrumite Mark would have already whisked you away from Earth and it would take a while before the Bats found you.

Mohawk, Prisoner, Shiesty and Sinister will tell you about the portal and the foreign superheroes that have come for you and plead with you not to leave–and this is after they’ve decided to pick a fight with Batman and crew.

a/n:

Hi anon, I’m sorry this took so long but I knew that if I opened this door to DC I'll end up fawning over Jason and get distracted (and I was right). You’re my last request (technically no but I'm still not prepared to share Shiesty's origin story), but YAYYYY

Also, I know that anon specified that the Bats were horrible to Y/N, and I did try to write them like that initially, but it was hard for that scenario to fully form in my head. The Bat family is dysfunctional as heck, but I usually write about a normal, civilian YN and I can't see them being purposefully abusive to someone like that. Despite DC's many fumbles, the Bats are supposed to be good people at their core so the words just wouldn't flow.

DON'T GET ME WRONG, considering my love for revenge stories, I do want to write about the Bats being neglectful and unintentionally awful to YN and then her waking up and realizing that she doesn't care anymore, and then she stops chasing after them, which in turn, makes them chase after her, but that's a story for another day.

Anyway, I hope you still liked it!! (I'm going to cry about Red Hood and Huntress now.)

(ˊᗜˋﾉﾉ

Disclaimer: The images used in this post do not belong to writerclaire.

Gotham City, lifted from: https://heroism.fandom.com/wiki/Gotham_City

Invincible flying, lifted from: https://gamerant.com/invincible-every-character-fate-comics/

ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

MAIN MASTERLIST

Any questions for the author? Ask here.

mini masterlist for this au<<select

PS can you guess which Batboy is my favorite? LOL

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changetyre · 1 year ago

Note

This may be a long shot that also may or may not be inspired by a current situation but can u do a max fic where you have just gone thru a bad breakup, he’s there to support you, gives you a hug, and says “i’ve got you. I’m not letting you go” and then it progresses to something spicy? Lil fluff lil smut yknow? I’m so glad I found your page xx

Forget about him II Max Verstappen x Reader ⓈⒽⓌ

SUMMARY: After a bad breakup you seek comfort in the arms of your best friend and he's more than happy to help you forget.

WARNINGS: **18+**, smut, innocent/vulnerable reader, breakup.

A/N: Again sorry for taking so long, slowly getting back into writing and actually enjoying it.

You stood in front of his door knocking sheepishly as tears streamed endlessly down your cheeks.

Max woke up from his spot on the couch where he'd dozed off while watching a show he'd randomly stumbled upon. He looked down at his watch confused as to who could be knocking at his door at this time of the night.

He heard another hesitant knock which finally brought him to his feet.

From the outside, you could hear shuffling inside and you felt guilty for possibly waking your best friend up knowing he needed the rest for the weekend that was coming ahead but you just simply didn't know where else to go.

Before you could let your mind spiral further Max opened the door. As soon as his eyes landed on you noticing the tears he didn't hesitate to pull you inside.

"Shatje what's wrong?" Max asked pushing the door shut before bringing you into his chest and holding you tightly.

This affection was enough to have you cry harder again in his arms remembering what had happened just a few hours ago.

"He broke up with me." You managed to say through sobs, muffled in Max's chest.

"He what? Why?" Max found it incredibly hard to comprehend how someone who had you could be so foolish and let you go.

"He met someone else." You sniffled pulling away from Max's chest letting him see the raw pain in your eyes which broke him. "He said- He said he doesn't feel the same about me anymore and-" your words were cut off by your cries. "he just doesn't love me anymore.

Your heart ached. Badly. 4 years down the drain. 4 years of building a life with someone, someone who you'd convinced yourself you would finally settle with, who you'd made sacrifices for, and who you'd pictured a life with disappearing in a few minutes.

"Oh, baby." Max brought you into his chest again. A frustrated anger coursing through his veins at how that moron could have hurt you, someone so sweet and pure.

"I didn't know where to go I'm sorry-" You cried into his chest.

"Shh I've got you." Max quickly shut down your apologies. "I'm not letting you go." Max kissed the top of your head.

Max held you for a few minutes letting you cry it out and calm down. After some time your sobs had somewhat settled and you simply held Max tightly enjoying the comfort his arms provided. You would've happily stayed there if it weren't for your feet aching from standing in the same position for so long.

"C, mon let's get you comfortable." Max wrapped his arm around your waist keeping you close to his body as he led you to his bedroom.

Max sat you down on his bed before rushing to his closet to get you some of his clothes. He also rushed to his bathroom to get you a warm towel to wipe your face.

"You're too good to me Maxie." You couldn't hold back a small smile as you saw the products he brought to you.

"It's nothing." Max shrugged it off, in reality, he simply wished he could give you the entire world because you deserved nothing less in his eyes.

"Let me help you." Max kneeled down in front of you grabbing the warm towel bringing it up to your face, gently starting to wipe at your dried tears.

Max's heart skipped a beat at the way you were looking at him, your eyes seemed tired but filled with appreciation and love. Or maybe he was just imagining it.

"You're too sweet Max. I don't how you haven't found someone yet." Your hand came up to stroke Max's cheek lovingly.

Max's hand slowed down. He simply met your eyes, the distance between you seeming so minuscule now. "I think I found her a long time ago," he replied.

A shiver ran down your spine at the way you could feel his breath on your lips. "Max I-"

You didn't have a chance to say anything before Max had closed the gap pressing his lips to yours.

You couldn't hold back the moan that escaped your lips at the sudden action. You were confused, it was too soon but at the same time, the warmth that flooded your body made it hard to make it stop.

"Let me help you forget baby." Max whispered as his hand came to meet your waist again but this time to push you further into the bed, centering you.

Your voice escaped you as Max set his body above you, you could only half nod as his lips came down on yours again this time harsher, desperate. You kissed back with equal fervor.

"Let me take away the pain." Max whispered again as his lips came down to your jaw starting a path. His hand gripped your waist so tightly you were convinced you'd find a bruise there tomorrow.

His other hand pushed your shirt up, finding its way under the fabric to grip at your bare skin.

"Max please-" You pleaded unsure of what you were actually asking for but the warmth pooling in your core was enough indication you needed him to do something.

You couldn't remember the last time you'd felt like this, this warm, this desperate for someone's hands on you, to feel someone inside you with such dire need. The thought confused you further but you would worry about it later.

"Can I touch baby?" Max asked as he nipped at your neck, you knew he was leaving marks.

"Yes, please. Please touch me." You granted him permission.

Max didn't waste more time as his hand slipped under your jeans, the fabric pressing against the back of his hands as he cupped your mound. His fingers ran up and down your slit feeling the wetness that had been produced...just for him.

His eyes darkened watching the way you squirmed in his arms, your brows furrowing at the pleasure you were starting to feel. Max's fingers explored through your folds as if wanting to gouge your reaction to every single movement he made.

"Max...Max please-" You begged again wanting him to stop teasing you.

"Shh I've got you baby." Max finally began circling at your clit earning delicious moans from you.

He teased at your bud for a few seconds before letting his finger enter and curl inside you. Your hips bucked up chasing the pleasure and Max needed better access.

Reluctantly he withdrew his hand not missing the desperate whimper that escaped your lips. He hurriedly rushed to pull your jeans off you, before doing the same to his sweatpants.

As he did he saw you rush to pull your shirt over your head leaving you in nothing but your mismatched lace set which he couldn't help but find endearing.

He loved the sight so held back from stripping you completely as he let himself fall forward and lie between your legs. "So pretty." Max reveled at the sight in front of him.

He pulled your panties aside teasing at your entrance once more with his fingers before pushing two fingers in this time.

He watched your head fall back in pleasure before he came to close his mouth over your clit.

"AGH MAX." You screamed making Max's dick harden just at the sound. Your hands came to pull at his hair, a feeling Max knew he could now never live without.

"Mhmm so good," Max confessed quickly growing addicted to your taste.

"Max I'm gonna cum." You moaned and it only spurred him on as he began flicking quickly at your clit with his tongue, his fingers matching the space twisting and curling inside you.

He swore he could've come right then and there at the sight of you shaking in his arms as you came from his actions. He would've if his desire to be inside you wasn't so big.

"So good baby," Max smirked as he came to hove over you again. His lips came down to meet yours again letting you taste yourself.

"So good." You repeated with him. You don't think your ex had ever made you feel this good.

"Can you give me another one?" Max asked you. You could feel his clothed dick press against your core.

"Yeah." You answered happily, wishing nothing more than to feel him deep inside you.

Max smiled with you, pulling his boxers off, this time pulling your own panties off as he lined himself up with you.

"Ready darling?" Max asked you, your breath already heavy imagining what was to come.

"Yeah," Your reply came out breathy, not truly sure if you were ready for his size but eager to stretch out just for him.

Max kissed you again as he began pushing in, distracting you from the initial sting. You moaned into his mouth, feeling your pussy take in every inch of him slowly. Your mind in a haze, pure bliss.

#f1 x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #changetyre #f1fic #f1 one shot #formula 1 #smut #f1smut #f1 smut #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x reader

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madridnoora · 4 months ago

Text

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ Forbidden - LSU!Joe Burrow Au⋆｡˚ ౨ৎ

LSU!JoeBurrow x Student!oc AU

Hey!! This is so weird for me. I haven't posted on tumblr for like seven years but I've been inspired to write a 'Au' about Joe Burrow. I usually post my writing on other platforms but it felt best to post this one on tumblr :)

So please bare with me as I get to grips with how tumblr works again lol. Other than that...I hope you enjoy and feel free to send me any questions, prompts ect..!!

18+ content ahead. MDNI :)

౨ৎ Third times a charm⋆｡˚

Word count - 5.4k

The First Time

The bass thumps through the heavy air of the crowded frat house as Daisy scrambled trying to find her friends. It was the first week of her sophomore year at LSU. One of the only weeks when she could actually find the time to enjoy these stupid parties without the strain of a heavy poli-sci workload weighing down on her shoulders. A red solo cup full of a concoction of various types of alcohol was gripped strongly in her hand as she pushed her way through the various drunk boys and girls. Daisy wasn’t wasted, but she was stumbling. Her vision was slightly impaired and a heat known as an alcohol blanket pricked at her skin.

‘DAIS’ a muffled voice yells from within the crowd before a hand of god grabs onto her forearm pulling her in a direction. A sigh of relief escaped from her pink lips as she realised it was her roommate and dearest friend Cassie. They embraced in a sloppy drunk hug, the type that usually takes place in a girls bathroom. The type that would make people think they hadn’t seen each other for months but in reality they had only been separated for ten minutes.

‘I fucking love you’ Cassie slurred from her mouth. Daisy beamed a caring smile back at her as she adjusted the stray honey blonde hairs that lay out of place around Cassie’s sweet face. They were randomly allocated a dorm together in freshman year and in that freshman year they became sisters. Daisy never expected it, she thought her roommate would be just that, a roommate, someone she got along with but never went out of her way to hang out with. Like an acquaintance. She had never been so wrong about anything in her life. The girls did everything together, they were joined at the hip. They went to their first parties together, they had their first blackout together, they smoked their first joint together, they went on their first double date together, they shared their first spring break together, they met each other's families and perhaps the most bonding moment; they went through their first heartbreaks together.

‘We need to find Bella’ Daisy shouted into Cassie’s ear over the obnoxious frat music that was playing. Bella had made their duo a trio in the middle of the girls heartbreaks, and she taught them that the boys they spent their days sobbing over were nothing but that; boys. She pulled them out of their slumps and showed them how to breathe again. It was because of Bella that the girls had spent their summer’s working, then partying, then working and then partying. From Louisiana, to Austin, to London, to the Hamptons, to New York, to Miami and then back to Louisiana. The three girls had been on a heartbreak tour this summer and had come back as women. It helped that Cassie was from Miami, Bella was from New York and that Daisy’s dad lived in London for his work. Daisy didn’t see him much, only over winter break and summer. That was how it had been since she was eight years old. She was born and raised in Austin, Texas, spent most of her life with just her and her mom in a small apartment that her dad paid for from across the pond. Her parents weren’t together, the long distance crippled their relationship when she was ten but she didn’t mind. She was used to it just being her and her mom.

‘She doesn’t want to be found’ Cassie replied with a mischievous grin across her wine tinted lips. She then glanced to a corner of the frat house, Daisy followed her eyes.

Bella’s lips tangled with anothers. Her hands pulled on his brunette mullet while his own hands explored her body. Cassie was right, Bella did not want to be found at this moment. Daisy pulled out her phone and sent Bella a text.

‘Find us once you’re done ;)’

‘I want a refill’ Daisy said as she pulled Cassie towards the frat house kitchen.

Ja’Marr, Justin and Joe stood in their kitchen. It was their party. A party to celebrate the start of the college football season and right now it was a success. The island was filled with bottles of alcohol, the front room was crammed with the hottest girls LSU had to offer and tonight they would be taking advantage of that. The three of them took swigs from their beers as they scouted out the crowd, each of the eyes darting to a different girl.

‘You spot one, QB?’ Joe's eyes squinted ever so slightly as he thought about the question Ja Marr had just asked him. He’d seen many women he liked the look of tonight but none that really captured his attention.

‘Nah bro’ Joe said as he shook his head ever so slightly while taking another drink. He was still watching the dance floor, still holding out hope for someone fresh to catch his eyes tonight, so he wouldn’t have to be forced to call up an old hookup.

‘JUSTINNNN’ Two high pitched and drunk voices squeal causing the three boys' heads to snap in their direction. It’s two girls, ones that Ja’marr and Joe were unfamiliar with but Justin knew them all too well. They are rushing over to where Justin is leant against the counter, he didn’t say anything but he looked at the two girls in a comedic annoyance. Joe lets his blue eyes linger on the brunette, trailing them up and down her body. He makes a note of her short denim skirt and the tight white crop top she is wearing with it. Her. He thought. She was the one for him tonight.

Joe looks at Justin in confusion before looking at Ja marr to understand if he knew these girls. Ja Marr shrugged his shoulders with widened eyes.

‘Yeah it’s me, keep your panties on’ Justin was cocky as he hooked an arm around each of the girls necks and brought them in for a quick hug. It was friendly, it didn’t look to be anything more than that.

‘We missed you’ Cassie lingers closer to Justin than Daisy does.

‘You two seem better’ Justin looks at them both up and down before he takes a long drink of his beer. The girls both twirl in front of him before Daisy swings her arm lazily over the shoulder of Cassie bringing them close together.

‘We’re new women now’ She tells him and he just nods. ‘Toootallllyyy over it’ Cassie added.

Justin had the unfortunate job of working with freshly heartbroken Cassie and Daisy for a class project in their last semester of freshman year. He became the girls unpaid therapist, which in this case meant he sat there in class with them and listened as they poured out every detail of their previous relationships to him offering back a ‘that’sss crazy’ or a ‘damn’ every so often. It was hell. Modern day hell, but somehow Justin found himself liking the girls. There was something likeable about them, and also they did all the work on that project making sure his grade was good enough that he could still play college football this year.

‘Yo. These are some friends from freshman year. Daisy and Cassie.’ Justin finally acknowledged his two clueless teammates who had just been standing and watching the whole exchange take place in front of them. Joe didn’t bother to look at Cassie, he kept his eyes only on Daisy.

‘Daisy. Cassie. These are my teammates Ja Marr and Joe’ Justin introduced them. Daisy notices that Joe is looking at her. He has this typical frat boy smirk plastered across his face. His blue eyes are dark with a dangerous glint lying behind them. A glint that made her feel both hot and uneasy. She only glanced at him. She knew what he was after and she didn’t feel like giving in.

‘Teammates?’ Cassie looked at Justin with a confused face. Daisy looked at him also, just registering what he had said fully.

‘From the football team’ Justin explained but the girls still looked lost. ‘I play football, on the LSU football team. I had to miss meetings for the project last year because of away games and training.’ Justin explains further and the girls snap their heads to look at each other and back to him.

‘Ew.’ was all Daisy slipped out of her mouth. Half teasing and half not. Daisy had a pretty rough track record when it came to football players. Her ex was one.

‘What’s wrong with football players?’ Joe finally speaks and Daisy’s green eyes meet his own. She looks him up and down. She takes note of his height, and his tanned skin. She takes note of the way his blonde hair sits in a perfectly messy manner on his head. She takes note of the way drunk her fancies him. She takes note of the arrogance that drips from every corner of his body. She takes note of the smug smile all hot shot college footballers wear.

‘Everything’ she snapped back, a drunken anger she didn’t know still remained gripping to her words. Joe scoffs in disgust. The air thickens. Cassie, Justin and Ja Marr notice it. The hot air now feels almost constricting. Joe and Daisy are having a standoff. Cassie turns quickly and grabs a random bottle of wine off the kitchen island.

‘Come on Dais, let’s go dance’ She pulls on Daisy’s arm causing her eye contact with a furrowed brow Joe to break. ‘See you around Justin’ She offers him a sweet smile, one which says sorry for the awkward encounter that just happened.

When they have left the kitchen Joe finally speaks.

‘What a brat’

He thinks about Daisy. He thinks about the way she insulted him, the way she looked him up and down. He thinks about the fact that when he first saw her he wanted her, he laughs at his own stupid thought from merely minutes ago. She hated football players.

The Second Time

The late August sun beams down on the Louisiana campus. Students hustle and bustle across the pavement, while others sit in their groups on the grass. Joe, Justin and Ja Marr are sitting at a picnic bench soaking in the rays. At the weekend the football season would officially commence with an opening game at Baton Rouge’s Tiger Stadium against Georgia Southern. The team knew it would be a pretty easy win, but with it being the first game of the season there would always be some slight nerves.

Justin spots her before Joe does.

‘Hey! Texas!’ he calls out to her. She was coming from class, Joe could tell by the backpack and the textbook in her hand. She was wearing an oversized soccer top, Chelsea. He didn’t know soccer all that well but he knew that was the team. The top was so big that her denim shorts only just peaked out from underneath. He wondered why she was wearing it. It didn’t look like hers. The size was too big. Maybe that’s why she hated football players, because she was a soccer girl.

Her plump lips stretched into a beaming smile as she recognised Justin, the smile faltered when she saw Joe. The falter was so quick only he could notice it.

‘Hey’ Joe notices the Texas twang now. It was stronger now that he was hearing it sober. She slid into the spare spot next to Ja marr and across from him, placing her politics textbook on the table. Her demeanor is different now. She’s not as bold or brash, she’s not as confident as she had been when she snapped at him. She’s more timid, she’s sweeter. That was what came to Joe’s mind.

‘You coming to the game at the weekend’ Justin asks her.

‘Nope’ Daisy makes the ‘p’ pop.

‘If we win, there’s a party at the frat. You should come’ Joe’s head spins to look at Justin beside him. He couldn’t believe it. Joe had spent pretty much the last few days talking about what a brat Daisy had been and how he couldn’t believe she had spoken to him like that.

‘What’s in it for me?’ Daisy questions. Justin doesn’t acknowledge his quarterback’s quizzing looks, or the anger that is beginning to show across his face. He didn’t want Daisy there. She’d bruised his ego, but Justin didn’t care about Joe’s ego, he cared about something else.

‘I’ll get your drinks’

‘Deal. I’ll make sure she comes’ Daisy was nonchalant in her response.

‘What’s happening right now?’ Ja Marr asked as he looked between his teammate and the brunette girl sat next to him.

‘He wants to hook up with my friend Bella’ She shrugged her shoulders. Ja Marr looked to Justin for confirmation.

‘She’s badddd’ Justin told him as he rubbed his hands together, almost in excitement. Justin had wanted to hook up with Bella since he first met her before summer. She had interrupted one of their project meetings and he had been dreaming of her ever since. Well, dreaming of her body. He didn’t want to date her or anything and Bella wasn’t the type to date anyway. They matched perfectly in that sense.

‘I have to run. Got class at ten. DM me the details.’ She stood up from the table and the boy's eyes linger on her.

‘Bye Joe’ She is sickly sweet. Her smile isn’t genuine. It’s a teasing one, one which lets him know that she remembers their exchange in the kitchen. One which lets him know she felt his eyes looking at her for moments too long.

Joe doesn’t respond, he just watches her walk away.

The Third Time

55-3. Georgia Southern never stood a change. Joe Burrow’s LSU were well under way, and they looked good. Screw that. They looked exceptional.

Cheers erupted through their frat house as the boys stood on the coffee table shotgunning beers before throwing them into the sea of people that stood around them. Tonight. Tonight they partied like kings.

Daisy watched from the back of the room alongside Cassie and Bella. She watched as people cheered for him. He was standing in a white LSU top, likely one from his training and some black shorts. The top clung to his skin already, but was now ever so slightly wet from the spilt beer. She could see the outlines of his abs, she could see the outline of his pectoral muscles. His hair was covered by a black backwards cap, one that she hated to admit suits him. His skin is covered in a sheen, the heat of the room affecting him. The tanned skin on his cheeks flushing ever so slightly pink.

A blonde bombshell leans over and speaks to him. Her hand lay delicately on his bicep. He smiles at her. Then his smile is replaced by the smug look all footballer players get when they know a pretty girl wants them.

Daisy sips from her drink as she watches the exchange play out across the room. She watches as Joe and the mystery blonde go elsewhere in the frat house. Classic.

‘I don’t get the obsession’ Bella said as she looked in disgust at the people throwing themselves at the football team. Not even just girls. Other boys preach them as Gods. Showering them in compliments, all in the hopes that they would acknowledge them. All in the hope that they could say they were friends with the LSU football team. Daisy had grown up in Texas, she was more than familiar with how football stars were treated. Her ex was one. And she was his cheerleader. She shuddered at the breath of thought that crept its way into the forefront of her mind. The thoughts of a past life she likes to forget she lived. She downs her drink to halt the memories. Cassie notices.

‘Let’s go dance’ and she pulls both Daisy and Bella into the crowd in front of them.

‘She was so fucking boring’ Joe said as he rejoined Ja Marr in the corner of the frat house. The blonde had taken his interest when she leaned over to him and whispered sweet nothings into his ear. However, a few conversations between kisses in the backyard had nummed him. Cute girl. Good kisser. Absolutely no personality. Not even enough for him to want to go through with the hook up.

‘Shi sucks man’ Ja Marr sympathises.

‘Whatchu doin?’ Joe questions him.

‘Scouting’ Ja Marr smirked. Joe did too. The pair clink their beers together and watch the crowd dancing. ‘White girl’ by Shy Glizzy is blasting through the speakers. The wood floors almost shake beneath their feet. Strobe lights flash across the ceiling and smoke fills the air from the amount of vapes. The smell of cigarettes, alcohol and weed lingers in the heavy air.

‘Yo. Justin got his girl’ Ja Marr hits Joe gently in the chest and nods in their direction.

Justin and Bella are making out, heavily. That meant that the little devil named Daisy was here also. Joe couldn’t help but look for her in the crowd. He spots Cassie first. His eyes move slightly to her right and there she is.

Daisy’s holding her hair up in her hands as she winds her waist to the rhythm of the song. One of Joe and Ja Marr’s frat brothers is stood behind her. A hand loosely on her waist. Joe checks her out, and he can’t help but scoff ever so slightly at her outfit. She’s wearing a tight black tank top that’s clinging to every curve of her skin, her chest pushed up ever so slightly. Enough for Joe to take notice.

He takes a swig of his beer.

He watches her waist move around as she wears distressed denim shorts with a thick tan belt and a silver buckle. A buckle which has a long horned cattle imprinted on it.

He takes another swig of his beer.

Red cowboy boots. She was wearing red cowboy boots to a frat party. It was so painfully texas. And maybe it was the liquor. But right now Joe wanted Texas.

‘I’m hunting bro’ Joe handed Ja Marr his beer before he set off into the crowd.

Daisy whined her waist on the stranger behind her. She was too tipsy to care who it was. She just wanted to have fun. Memories of an ex had somehow plagued her mind since she got here and she would do anything to get rid of them. She hadn’t thought about him all summer but the talk of football had brought him back.

‘Get out of here Jaxon’ a deep annoyed voice deeply interrupts her dancing. The warm hand that had made its home on her bare waist drops and cold air hits the flesh it left behind.

‘She your’s? Shit. my bad QB, my bad’ His voice panicked as it fades further and further away.

Daisy turns around in confusion, wanting to know who had stopped her fun.

Joe.

‘Ugh’ Daisy audibly groaned at the face in front of her. She should have guessed. She should have guessed he was quarterback as well. She should have been able to tell from not only his physical appearance but the cockiness that clings to his every action and every word.

‘You can keep dancing’ He’s smug when he says it. She rolls her eyes. And then that tension comes back. The one that makes the air feel like it’s being sucked away. They’re staring at each other, neither of them saying a word but somehow they’re having a conversation.

She knows why he came over. It’s written all over his face. He knows she’s considering it. It’s written all over her face.

He’s looking down at her. She’s looking up at him. Cogs turning in each of their heads as they try to figure out what they were going to do next.

Daisy knows she shouldn’t want him. She told herself never again. But he’s stood in front of her, in a backward cap that makes him look so good. She can see his muscles almost bursting out from beneath his training top, and she wants to see them fully. If her mind hadn’t been running with thoughts of a previous boy, then she wouldn’t have thought about the distraction Joe could offer her. If she had had two drinks less, she wouldn’t be picturing him on top of her. Joe was a forbidden fruit in the garden of eden presenting itself as a frat house. A forbidden fruit which looked so good she couldn’t help but take a bite.

Joe wanted her from the moment he saw her. Joe had wanted her every time he saw her. He liked that she didn’t want to want him but she still did. He could see it in her green eyes. He could see in the pink lip she held bitten between her teeth. He could feel it in the air between them. He could feel it in the shaky but desperate breath she let out.

‘One time’ It’s like a whisper.

And suddenly the red light flicked green.

Joe grabbed her hand with desperation, like she was going to change her mind at any second. He led her up the stairs of the house to where his room was. Once the door was shut and the lock flicked, their barriers dropped.

It started with a desperate kiss. Joe’s hands were firm on her hips as he pulled her in towards her. She’s breathless as she kisses him back with her own desperation. She pulls the backwards cap of his head and tosses it somewhere in the room before running her hand through his blonde hair, tugging every so often. When she does he lets out small groans. Groans which let her know he likes it.

‘Just one time’ She whispers into his lips. She’s not saying it for him, she’s saying it for herself. Just this once, she would let herself taste the forbidden fruit. Just to escape the thoughts of her last life. The life that ended over a text four months ago.

‘It’s just sex. That’s all this is’ Joe’s breathless when he responds. Heavy breaths leaving his parted lips as he clings to her waist like she’s the most important thing in the world to him. She nods. She didn’t want anything more. She didn’t even like Joe. She didn’t even know him enough to know whether she liked him or not. She didn’t even know his last name. She pulls her lips from his once again.

‘What’s your last name?’

Joe’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Like it was the last thing he expected to leave her lips.

‘Burrow’ He told her. Daisy nods. Then she crashes her lips back into his own and they continue like nothing ever happened. He tasted like beer but somehow it was sweet. Somehow it felt familiar. Joe’s hands move from her hips and instead grip intensely onto her ass in the denim shorts. He offers it a smack, not too hard as he was testing what she liked, trying to figure her out with every reaction she gave to his touch. She let out a small moan and he knew she liked it.

Joe begins to move them backwards, inching closer towards his bed with their mouths still pressed against each other’s and their tongues intertwining in a perfect rhythm. When the back of Daisy’s calves reach the soft cotton bed sheets she lets herself fall backwards. She’s on his bed beneath him, perched on her forearms and looking at him with dark eyes. Eyes filled with an animalistic desire and covered in a drunken gloss. Her chest is rising and falling quickly as she tries to catch the breath Joe had taken from her. Joe looked back at her with his own desire. His once bright blue eyes now deep and sunken, hungry for what lay in his bed. He took her in. His eyes panned over the smooth skin on her legs, then to her chest, then to her swollen lips and then to her eyes. He was slow and precise by how he looked at her. If this was a one time thing, he needed to make it count. He kneeled and Daisy held a breath.

He pulled at the red leather cowboy boots and threw them to the side with a heavy thud.

‘Hey’ Daisy snapped. ‘Careful with my boots’

Joe stood back up and towered over her, not responding to her snappy words. Instead he pulled the white LSU shirt over his head and tossed it to the side. He saw her gulp and he let it fuel his already large ego. Daisy’s eyes traced the deep grooves which sculpted his torso, the ones which outlined his abs. He was the most muscular man she had seen in the flesh. Heat pooled in her underwear and her stomach flipped. Fuck. She thought. Her lip once again found itself being bitten between her teeth in a subconscious reaction. The smug look is worn on the quarterback's face once more, but this time she didn’t care. He had the right to be smug because he was making her feel things she hadn’t felt for a long time.

‘Take your clothes off’ His command was rough and deep. They engage in a stand off again. Daisy had never been told to take her clothes off in the bedroom. Her ex would take them off her or she would just do it without being told. She unbuckled her belt and the top button on her shorts.

‘stand up’ Joe once again commands her. She doesn’t know why but she listens.

‘Now take them off’ She follows his words like they’re biblical. She doesn’t even think twice about it. Perhaps it’s the hunger in his eyes as he says it, or the commanding tone, she didn’t know why she was listening to him but she was.

Her shorts dropped to the floor and she pushed them to the side. She pulls her tank top over her head and throws it in the direction of her boots in the corner of the room. Joe watches her, he studies her body like he will take an exam on it. He takes a note of the three moles which sit across her torso and the small scar at the top of her thigh. He takes her in. The singular lamp lighting up his room bounces off her, she appears like she’s almost glowing. Like an angel in a golden aura.

Her bra and panties match, like she knew this was going to happen. They’re leopard print, comically sleazy, and he’s more turned on than he has ever been in his life. He takes off his own black shorts leaving himself in white Calvin Kleins. She looks for a split second. Another gulp.

Joe lets the knuckle of his index finger delicately trace a line on her toned abdomen and his eyes follow it. She holds her breath.

‘I need you’ His voice is low. When his eye’s flick up to meet hers it’s game on again.

He pushes her onto the bed as their lips collide once more. The room is hot and heavy. The music from the party below them is felt through the floorboards. It’s some rap song and people are cheering but they’re not focussed on that. Joe and Daisy are only focussed on each other and getting rid of the aching feeling that's pooling in both their stomachs.

Joe leaves sloppy kisses from her neck down to the waistband of her underwear. Daisy hips already bucking at just the thought of him being inside her. There was something about knowing she shouldn’t be doing this that made her want to do it even more. She widens her legs and she feels Joe smile into her thigh as he places me wet kisses.

‘You need me baby’ He’s almost taunting with his words. He places a kiss on her clit over the underwear and she lets out a shy whimper. ‘That’s it’ He’s so smug it hurts, but there is nothing she can do because she’s panting beneath him. She’s crumbling under his touch. ‘Tell me you want it baby’ He pauses his kisses and looks at her through his eyelashes.

‘Fuck you’ She breathlessly tell him. Then there’s a pause. A small silence fills the space between them. He’s waiting for what he knows is coming.

‘I want it’ She whimpers and Joe rips her underwear in half. He gets straight into pleasuring her. His tongue draws patterns on her swollen clit while his fingers pump in and out of her. She’s almost screaming in pleasure and she’s thankful the party around them blocks out the noise.

‘Fuck. you’re soaking for me’ Joe almost moans as he continues to pleasure her. As pathetic as it sounds, she was almost already at a climax and Joe could feel it. He felt her walls tightening around his fingers and he wanted to feel her. He could make her cum again. ‘You can let it go sweet thing’ Daisy moaned in response to his words. A few pumps of his finger later and she was coming undone.

‘Ah fuck Joe. I’m- ‘mm c’ Daisy struggles to get her words out as pleasure overtakes her. She can’t string together a cohesive thought let alone a sentence thanks to Joe. ‘I know baby, I know’ Joe replied as he removed his lips from her clit.

He gave her only a few moments to catch her breath while he pulled off his boxers letting himself spring free.

Fuck. Daisy thought. 6’4 quarterback, she knew he wouldn’t be small but-

‘On your stomach’ he told her and once again she listened. Her body on autopilot to his commands, she wanted her to put up some resistance but it was like her body was disconnected.

‘Good girl’ She knows he’s beaming with a smile, she can tell it in his tone. It’s like he’s trying to hold in a mocking laugh and yet even that doesn’t stop her from spreading her legs and allowing him inside. She groans as he fits himself within her, he’s gentle for three strokes, letting her adjust to a size she wasn’t used to. Then he goes.

His pace picks up and the noise of skin slapping fills the room. The noise of him smacking her ass as it moves in response to his heavy thrusts echoes around them. One hand gripped on her waist, guiding her down his length. She’s moaning uncontrollably. He’s grunting like it’s the first time he’s fucked someone. She felt so good, so so good. So good it was making his toes curl ever so slightly. He admired her as he took her from behind, admired the way her ass bounced with every thrust, admired the way she arched for him and the way she let out small whimpers of his name. He didn’t think he’d have her like this, but he was so glad he did.

Heavy breaths filled the silence between them as they lay naked next to each other. Neither of them daring to speak, neither of them knowing what to say. Daisy didn’t regret it, that wasn’t what she was feeling but she was feeling something she couldn’t quite place. Was it guilt? She shook the thought away. Why would she feel guilty? She didn’t have any reason to feel guilty, she was single and this wasn’t the first guy she had hooked up with since her ex. So why did this weigh heavier?

‘You wan-’ Joe started. ‘I gotta head’ Daisy finished, not listening to what else he was going to say.

She scrambled around the room naked picking up her different items of clothes. ‘Shit’ She held her ripped underwear between her fingers before shooting an almost murderous look at Joe.

‘Chill’ Joe said nonchalantly as he himself got up and made his way to the top drawer of his dresser. She watched him rummage around.

‘Here. These should be about your size’ He tossed her some random underwear. Daisy looked at him with horror, genuine horror. Some random girls left over underwear had just been tossed at her.

‘What? They’re washed’ Joe looks confused by her reaction. She scoffs, not going near the black lacy underwear that had been tossed to her. She went commando instead.

‘This never happened’ was all she said before she ran out his bedroom door to find Cassie.

#joe burrow #joe burrow imagine #joey burrow #joe burrow x oc #joe burrow au #jb9 #lsu!joe #lsu joe #౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ Forbidden - Joe Burrow Au

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anonnie-in-wonderland · 21 days ago

Text

Home Calls the Heart

Summary: Twenty-year old L/N Y/N realizes she might be, okay, is a little bit of a social pariah. But there’s not much she can really do about it. Until a dreary winter day, when a determined, persistent dog hybrid named Taehyung shows up and declares that he’s interested in adopting her for himself and the rest of his lonely pack.

chapter: six

Word Count: 7.7k

rating: T (angst central, past child abuse and animal cruelty)

genre: romance | hurt/comfort| magic AU

tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly| FM!reader

Emperor Penguin!Seokjin, Golden Retriever!Taehyung, Coyote!Hoseok, Mountain Lion!Yoongi, Wolfdog!Namjoon, Kingfisher!Jimin, Holland Lop!Jungkook

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Author's Note: I know, I know. It’s been forever. The last year (or more) was a really busy one, and I also took a break for an extended period to work on myself and mental/physical health. Glad to be writing this chapter, felt kinda inspired after a few Jungkook songs came up on shuffle while I was out for morning exercise. Anyway~ enjoy

Jin-hyung stirred the rice around, carefully adding a few more ingredients with just a flick of his wrist. He was so graceful in the kitchen, multitasking with ease as he prepared an entire meal from scratch.

Taehyung was assisting, happily following instructions with his tail wagging, even managing to get away with accidentally dumping too much gochujang in the dakgalbi with just a quiet “oops” and a sheepish expression. Taehyung was always hard to stay mad at like that.

Jungkook would be lying if he said he didn’t miss this, didn’t miss them. There was something soothing about being back among them, quietly observing as the others did their best to also pick up a routine. It was a balm for his heart he hadn’t even realized he’d needed. And to think, it was all because they randomly met some human with magic.

Not that Jungkook was praising her or anything. He was still wary of the fact that she might come back around, get the others all dopey and friendly with her, the way Taehyung was. He hadn’t stopped talking about how he had her number and could text or call her whenever he wanted, and it had been three days.

Maybe it was too late for Taehyung, but Jungkook decided he could at least protect his other hyungs from the same fate. He didn’t want them warming up to someone who might not stay in the long run anyway.

He was just looking out for them, the way they always had for him. It was about protecting his hyungs, not being possessive or insecure about someone moving into his spot while he was withdrawn or anything. And if being vigilant meant being around his family more again, so what? …There were worse things someone could do out of spite, right?

“Kookie, would you check on that pan in the oven for me?” He perked up at the sound of his hyung’s sweet croon. If he had a longer tail, it would probably start wiggling around in content. Jungkook always adored when his family used one of his nicknames and spoke to him with so much blatant affection.

In more recent years they jokingly called him their muscle bunny, because, well, he’d gone and gotten buff. He made a big deal about not being the little shy baby bun he once was anymore, and they respected him changing and discovering himself as an adult buck.

But, deep down, Jungkook knew all they had to do was squeeze him into a hug when he was feeling down or rub a certain spot behind his ears, and he’d melt. Times like this worked too. It was a reassurance that he was still loved, even if he put his colony through it with his distance since Gramps died.

Jin could easily check on the cookies, even while he did six other things, because he was an amazing multitasker. If he couldn’t, Taehyung, who was currently salivating too close to Jin’s pan—which earned him a maybe not-entirely-accidental elbow to the forehead—could. But it was Jin’s way of including him. The heat that hit him in the face when he opened the oven was nothing compared to the glowing warmth he held for his hyung, his whole family.

“They look ready, hyung.”

“Good, you can take them out.” Jin had his wide back to him, distracted as he turned the heat down on the meal and fended off the impatient dog hybrid at his side.

It was a small job, but Jungkook still grabbed an oven mitt and did it carefully. The aroma of Jin’s ginger cookies filled his nose, causing him to discreetly lean a little closer to get a good whiff. He was sure his tail did twitch in anticipation this time, just a little.

“It’s done?” Taehyung was hanging over Jin’s back, being his normal clingy self. “Should I call the—”

“Lunch time?” Jimin’s tinkling voice made them all turn around, his shock of blue hair visible as he popped his head into the kitchen. “Ooh is that dakgalbi?”

“Mhm, I helped!” Jin didn’t dispute Taehyung’s eager chirp verbally, but the long side eye he gave the golden was loud enough.

“I’ll tell everybody,” The avian hybrid was already pulling out his phone, thumbs flying across his keypad as he likely informed the house group chat. It was more handy than someone might think to have one, even if they saw each other every day.

It was at times the only way to get ahold of everyone when they were split up on different parts of the farm, or when they would go out shopping and inevitably all wander away from Gramps, he would shake his head and use the chat to tell them to get their butts back before they got left.

But it didn’t take long today. Apparently everyone had worked up an appetite. They came stampeding down the stairs or indoors, beelining to the kitchen in a way Jungkook knew was going to annoy Jin.

“Were you raised in a barn?!” He cried, right on time. Yep, called it.

“The wilderness, actually.” Yoongi pulled one of his mittens off with his teeth and shook the snow from his hair as if to prove his point. Hoseok giggled, probably finding the snarky comment all the funnier since it applied to him too.

The both of them had spent more years in the household being raised by Gramps than they had out in the wild, but there was a certain animalistic sharpness to their movements and behavior that came out from time to time, a clue that they weren’t born domesticated.

“Maybe you’d be more comfortable eating out on the porch then.” Jin retorted, accepting the plates Taehyung had retrieved for him. “This food’s only for the civilized ones.”

“Fine by me.” The lion shrugged. “Hell, I’ll shift down and eat in my fur while I’m at it. You’re not the only one who finds the cold refreshing.”

Jin only rolled his eyes, ignoring Yoongi calling his bluff. “Sit down before I change my mind.” he grumbled.

Seeming pleased with himself, Yoongi winked at them when Jin’s back was turned, rolling up his sleeves to wash his hands after stuffing his mittens in his pocket.

“This is nice,” Hoseok remarked, smiling wide after they were all seated and the food began to get passed around. “I missed sharing meals like this.”

“Me too, hyung,” Taehyung wiggled around in his spot impatiently as he waited for the dish he wanted. Jungkook watched as it was almost handed off to him by Jimin, who smirked, passing it the other way when the dog hybrid groaned in frustration. “You did that on purpose.” He accused.

“Who, me?” Anyone who didn’t know them and couldn’t see Jimin’s wings would have a very hard time determining who was the dog when he made such a perfect pair of puppy dog eyes. “Anyway, is that all you’re eating Jungkookie? You should have some more.”

Jungkook looked down at his own plate. Compared to his usual, well, his previous intake before he startled nibbling his meals for lack of appetite, it was pretty light.

“Want help?” Taehyung asked, already reaching for his plate from across the table. Usually Jin might scold for something like that, since it required reaching over other people’s meals, but he said nothing as his plate was passed and loaded up with a generous helping of lunch.

His hyungs all worked to pass it back to him like the well-oiled parts of a machine, totally in sync, and it was yet another thing that made Jungkook want to hide a touched smile. They all wanted to take care of him, and they did it in a way that didn’t feel smothering. When he got his plate back, the rabbit hybrid picked up his chopsticks and ate his first bite reverently. The company and love of his family made the flavors richer, and before he knew it, someone was telling him not to eat so fast.

“There’s plenty more where that came from, Kook.” Yoongi said.

Jungkook paused, ‘coming up for air’ as Hoseok put it when he was inhaling his food. All the patient faces he was surrounded by were trained on him, looking so subtly proud and content.

The bunny dropped his head, not wanting them to see the way it was making his eyes water. Something bittersweet brushed against his heart and made it ache.

Probably knowing every meal would be like this, Gramps would be absent from here on out, his chair remaining empty. They still had each other, and in time it might even be okay again, but their family looked different, and nothing could change that.

He trudged away from the house with his hands in his coat pockets, boots crunching through the powdery snow. A flake touched the fur of his ear and Jungkook stopped, the appendage flickering involuntarily at the sensitivity it caused.

Jin stood on the porch, watching him, looking like the twelve feet between them was as wide as a canyon. He knew. Jungkook knew his hyung wanted to fuss over him.

It was a total change of pace since Gramps died for him to want to go on walks. As a baby bunny he’d been active once he settled in, running all over the farm grounds with the rest of them.

As he got older he helped with some of the more intensive labor-laden chores, which helped build up his impressive physique. Nothing toned muscle like an honest day of farm work.

“I’ll be fine, hyung.” Jungkook appreciated the concern, but this was something he had to conquer at some point. If he didn’t get past this…if he didn’t face what he’d been hiding from…he’d be stuck forever.

“I’ll have some cocoa ready when you come back inside.” Jin promised, smiling sweetly. Jungkook waved, watching him turn to go back into the house, only to have to shoo his curious fellow maknaes away from the door. His keen hearing picked up Taehyung whining about something before it shut.

Sighing, Jungkook took a few more steps, lifting his nose up to the sky and watching more snow drift down from the gray heavens. An overcast winter day, huh? It was kind of similar to that time…

The rabbit glanced down at his feet, at the prints they made, thinking back to when he had walked around the farm hand in hand with Gramps. When he had first come home, his footprints had been tiny compared to the man’s adult-sized ones and he had never seen snow. He had never seen much of anything, really, except the lonely metal cage and concrete walls of his prison.

The small hybrid’s swollen eyes blinked open, the creak of the cage door signaling his worst fear. Morning again. That meant the Coats were back, reaching into their ‘homes’ and dragging them out by the scruffs of their necks, carrying them off to the cold, terrifying room where they did their experiments. It had been the same thing, every day, going on for so long it was hard to keep track.

It would have been hard anyway, since he was so young, but the way time blurred together here made it harder. “Alright, I only need one of you today.” The human rumbled, his gloved hand reaching in and grabbing another kit by the neck.

She squealed, but fell limp obediently as he hauled her away. Shivering, he curled deeper under the newspaper they had been using for a blanket, frightened eyes darting around to the three other bunnies left with him, squeezed in the far back corner of their cage all piled up. None of them dared to breathe, let alone move, until the door slammed shut again.

“Sun Hee…” her sister Mi Cha squeaked sadly. He watched one of the other male kits groom her ears in an attempt to provide comfort. They were all at the mercy of the humans, all of them there for the same reason. To help, they were told. And the best way for them to do that was to be good, obedient little bunnies and cooperate.

It wasn’t that they had much choice. Even as hybrids, the humans overpowered them easily. They were just scrawny little children, and after the series of tests they regularly endured most of them barely had the energy to pick their heads up to nibble the pellets they were given, let alone fight back.

He had done that only once, and only because he was startled when he was grabbed up so roughly. Biting was his first defense, and his baby bunny teeth hadn’t done much damage anyway. But that didn’t matter.

He made the scientist angry, and he paid for it when he was taken back to a testing room, some of his fur shaved and water that made him scream in pain dripped into his eyes, which they held open. Later, he learned the term for it from one of the older kits—chemical testing.

He went on to explain to the younger hybrids like him their “true” purpose for being there that the humans would never tell them. They were testing subjects, bought to be used in a lab.

Humans liked wearing something they called “makeup”. They didn’t have fluffy fur, so they shaved theirs off to rub products onto their bare skin and see if it hurt the hybrids. If it didn’t, they would do it on themselves. Each of them had been picked out to spend their lives there, “helping” humans make better makeup.

The news rattled around in his brain, but he barely processed it. He guessed that sounded close to right. There was something deep down in his distant memory, a time where had not been here with his fellow kits, but somewhere else.

The bunny was pretty sure that was where he had come from, maybe even where he was born. It was where the two adult hybrids who were his parents lived. When he tried to think back, it wasn’t a clear picture anymore, sometimes just a feeling, sometimes hazy shapes and colors from an old memory.

He couldn’t even remember their faces anymore. But he knew the day he was taken away, a lady’s voice that must have been his mama cried and begged for them not to take her baby boy, her youngest kit. Arms held him so close, but stronger arms ripped him out of the safety they provided anyway. Everything was a blur. Everything about them was gone now. Only their smells stayed with him.

Sometimes in the dead of night while he twitched around restlessly in his sleep, their scents almost came to him, as if they were really there. But when he opened his eyes, the room where they all slept was always quiet, dark and lonely, the whimpers of hybrids occasionally piercing the night.

There were no adult hybrids kept with them in their room, so no one to protect them, or teach them things. They taught each other and comforted each other the best they could. And when the morning came they all braced for the possibility of being picked next. Sometimes, he felt like the humans had a target. Other times it felt random, like there was no reason to it at all.

Either way it ended the same, one or more of them taken for testing, spending all day subjected to one cruel test after the next, until the scientists were satisfied and they were brought back to their cages to writhe on the cold metal in the aftershocks of pain.

The kits who had not been tested on for that day would come and cuddle the spent, exhausted bodies of the kits who had. He had been pressed into the middle of the pile, panting, his blood burning and what little he had in his stomach matted into his fur after he couldn’t keep it in. He had also been on the outside of the pile, using his tiny body to share meager warmth with a crying kit who needed it.

That was going to be his life, forever and ever, or at least until the humans came to take him for a final time like some of the kits before him who never came back. That was until the morning new scents and new voices came into the room, humans in uniforms he didn’t recognize. They were unknown, and that made them scary. Just like they would when it was the white coats floating toward them, the kits huddled up to make themselves smaller.

A woman drifted closer, stopping in front of the cage with a strangled gasp. Through all the fur and limbs in his way, he could sort of see her through the tiny crack of space. Her eyes were shiny. His sensitive little nose smelled saltiness in the air. She was…she was crying.

“Found some more,” she whispered into a metal box raised to her lips. The Coats used those to talk to each other sometimes. Walkie-talkies. That’s what the smart older kit said they were called. “They’re young…”

The cage door slid open with much less force than they were used to. Normally it seemed like the Coats would rip it off the hinges to get to the kits if they had to. But her hand hovered near the entrance, just laying there, no attempts to pull them all out. He, like the others, caught her scent.

It was…different than the way the Coats smelled—which was cold and harsh, like the chemicals used to hurt them—it was…clean and nice.

“Hi, hello,” she smiled a little, another gesture they weren’t used to from humans. The integrity of the pile was tested as some of the kits nervously started to squirm. “It’s alright. I’m here to help. It’s alright.”

He had always been curious, underneath all the fear and caution that kept them alive. If he could hop around, poking his head into nooks and crannies, sniffing around to explore the unknown, if it was a different place, a safer place…maybe he would.

It was a far off memory, but the little black kit could almost remember the touch of sunlight on his face instead of the artificial lamps shining on them.

He could almost remember the grass. When his paws found purchase on the soiled newspaper underneath them, he began to slowly squeeze his way out, ears bent against the urgent squeals of horror that called him back to the pretend safety of their pile.

Cautiously, he half hopped forward, pausing as he looked down at her fingers. Stretching his neck, the kit sniffed only getting that same clean, nice scent from before.

And that was when the curiosity he never got to express took over, his mouth gently nibbling the digits stretched out in front of him. The human made a quiet sound, not aggressive or angry, not dangerous. Creeping into her palm, he felt fingers curl gently around his stomach, pulling him up, close to her chest.

“Good baby,” she cooed. “Brave baby.” A finger caressed the top of his ear, and he flinched. But it didn’t do much more than that. A soft, friendly caress that turned into a scratch at the base. Although he couldn’t remember the last time he did it, his foot thumped when she scratched an itch he didn’t even know about.

That was the beginning of everything changing. He was lowered into a crate, dark and full of warm, soft blankets. Snuggling down, he didn’t have to wait long before the other kits were placed inside one by one.

He scrambled to peer out of the slats in the side as they moved, gently swaying in the woman’s secure hold. There was a flurry of motion out there, lots of humans, some he recognized as the Coats being walked out with their hands behind their backs. More and more cages being emptied as hybrids just like him were rescued.

“…can’t believe this happened right under our noses…”

“…illegal, new low.”

“…weren’t even trying to look into…”

“They’re just babies…look…” The crate was lifted, and another face he had never seen peeked in. This time, he moved back, his back pressing into the others cowering in the farthest part from the door. “I don’t know how much they understand. I don’t know if they’ve ever had the opportunity to shift. What if they don’t…don’t even know they’re hybrids?”

“What are they? Three or four year olds?” The second voice, a man’s, sounded unsure, gruff. He smelled smoky, not as nice as the other scent. “Once we get them safe, they’ll have all the time in the world to learn.”

To think, back then he didn’t even have a name. The scientists had only ever referred to him as the number he had come with, assigned to him in the breeding facility where he was born.

In the end, over one hundred and sixty other rabbit hybrids got rescued and taken into custody along with him. Gramps was a wealthy concerned citizen who had heard about the raid before it even broke national news. It paid to have connections in the task force that prosecuted hybrid abuse related crimes.

The bunnies were still being processed when his savior showed up. Not that Jungkook knew it. To the bunny, he was just a bizarrely dressed human who peered down at him with concern as a task force officer cleaned his stained fur and tried to feed him strained baby food after they guesstimated his age.

Though apparently there had been more of them than they anticipated, and there was concern about how the youngest and most fragile of them would adjust to a shelter environment, even if it was a safe one. Foster care was preferred for the kits, it was decided, and Gramps had stumbled across a group of university students protesting the cosmetic company’s hybrid cruelty outside one of the stores that sold their products. He’d taken a flyer, somehow found out about the case, and wasted no time coming down and inserting himself in the situation.

That was how he would eventually save them all and form their little family. A small bunny, young and behind on his developmental milestones, there was plenty about the situation that went over his head. It was so much to process at once, leaving him feeling vulnerable and overstimulated. But he remembered Gramps’ scent, his leathery hand reaching down to stroke him gently between the ears, and his soft, encouraging whispers. “You were just a tiny thing that left such a big impression.” Gramps had told him years later. “I knew I had to help you. I knew there was a hole you were meant to fill in our growing family.”

Jungkook paused, inhaling a deep lungful of crisp winter air and glancing over his shoulder. He’d gone a lot farther than he planned to just wandering, a bittersweet trip down memory lane. Gramps…there was truly nothing like him. So many people would have been frustrated or pushy or gotten overwhelmed with all his care and needs in those early years.

After all, being raised as a test subject didn’t make for the most socialized kid in the world. Looking back, he had more or less entered Gramps’ care as a blank slate, nothing of note about him besides being a malnourished hybrid from a bad situation. A creature to pity. No name, no voice…Jungkook had barely even had a personality.

His first day home was…something. Gramps whispered that the others would be gentle with him, carrying him through the door bundled in a blanket, still in hybrid form. Because the rescuers had been right—he didn’t know how to shift.

The first four years of his life, kept heavily drugged and pumped full of harmful chemicals, it was a wonder he still could. Gramps wasted no time getting him set up with doctors, therapists, a whole support system. The best money could buy. “Maybe you don’t know it yet, but you’re a fighter.” Gramps had told him that first week. “I can feel it. I can see it in your eyes. One day, you’ll feel it too.”

Jungkook had internalized those words, working hard to live up to the faith his savior had in him. Out across the fields, he watched a few cows roaming the barren grounds, a mother keeping a close eye on her young calf. It was so similar to the way he had been with his hyungs and Gramps, the rabbit couldn’t help but move closer to the fencing, overcome with emotion.

They had been there every step of the way, as he slowly gained strength and put on weight, and as exactly five months later, he shifted for the first time. One minute he was a tiny rabbit, being washed in the sink after getting into a mess in the berry patch, the next he was naked and covered in skin and his hyungs: Jin, Taehyung and Hoseok, were running around, screaming for joy. Gramps was all pride, presenting him with clothes in his size he already had prepared, because he knew.

His faith that one day Jungkook would master his ability to shift had never wavered. It went on from there—he learned to walk upright, learned to talk, learned to sing. Jimin was thrilled to have someone to harmonize with, and it made their farm chores go by faster when they sang and danced to their silly songs. As it turned out, Jungkook could learn to do a lot of things. “My boy, multi-talented.” Gramps would say when his close friends commented on how far he had come. “If Jungkook was a color he’d be golden.”

Golden. Jungkook stared up at the weak rays of the winter sun. The snow wouldn’t melt, at least not for a couple more days. ‘He thought I was golden when every other human looked at me and thought I was something broken to throw away.’

There was no putting a price on that. The mercy and compassion of one man was the reason he got a second chance, his first real home, a whole new life.

Knowing that person was no longer around, that they would never talk together as father and son while they weeded the garden; or that Gramps would never find and comfort him in his secret fort in the attic, crying when his insecurities pushed him too far in his own head and he didn’t want to worry his hyungs…it made his temples throb, and his fingers dug into the fencing just for the extra support.

The air got punched right out of his lungs, like he’d gone a few rounds in a prized fight and his opponent got the upper hand. Reeling, his eyes squeezed closed, vaguely aware his breathing was heavy. Slumping over, the bunny heard the first pitiful noise crawl its way from his throat, biting his lip hard to stop it.

It only came out as a strangled whine. When was this supposed to go away…? The way he felt, like he was coping one minute and dangling from a cliff the next? His own mind was a maze and his emotions were a rollercoaster taking him from the steepest highs to plummeting lows, guilt swirling through his stomach.

Gramps had shown signs. He’d been getting weaker. Jungkook could smell a faint change in his scent. Why hadn’t he pushed? Why hadn’t he brought it up to the hyungs? If they made him go to the doctor…if they made him take it slow…if they…if he were a better son—

His breath rasped from his lungs and he gave up trying to hold on, allowing his body to sink bonelessly against the fence, down in the cold snow. Somehow, it was refreshing, grounding enough that the warm flush across his face and the pounding inside his head was made bearable.

For a split second, Jungkook could swear he felt the familiar touch of a leathery hand, the ring always on the index and pinky fingers extra weight on his shoulder. Blinking, he scrubbed his face, ready to be brave and…and face no one.

So now he was going crazy, too?

“…Jungkook?”

“No,” he groaned, letting his forehead touch the fence. “I’m not doing this.”

“Kookie, what’re you doing?” The voice asked, very clear, very present, and very concerned. “I thought that was you, and I’ve been calling you for a while now. Did you just not hear me?” Yeah, there was no mistaking that scent.

Jungkook dragged big mouthfuls into his lungs, gulping down the comfort of having someone he trusted so close. Being caught in such a moment of weakness and vulnerability should have had him ducking away again, but he was tired of running from the people who loved him most.

Still, there was a certain amount of clinginess he just wasn’t comfortable with. “M’good, hyung.” He wasn’t, but that was his problem to deal with, not Jimin’s.

Without a word, the avian hybrid gracefully sat next to him in the snow, situating himself comfortably like they were about to do a sharing circle—sans a few more members.

Jungkook knew he had to look like a wreck, but Jimin blinked up at him patiently with those round, understanding eyes, leaning back on his hands as he crossed his legs. “You know that’s not how it works,” he said lightly. “Do that with strangers, not with me~”

“Can it be later?” He asked, weakly. “It’s hard to…it’s like he’s still…please not right now?” He would die. If Jimin pressed the issue and made him really spill his guts, dig into the painful, throbbing mass growing where all his unreleased love and anguish for Gramps was stored, Jungkook would stop existing.

Ever the emotionally intuitive one, of course his sweet hyung picked up on that, blessing him with a loving smile.

Leaning forward, Jimin grabbed the sides of his face between warm mittens, pulling Jungkook’s head close with firm surety. Holding his breath, the rabbit closed his eyes like he had so many times before.

Cool lips pressed against an eyelid, then both eyelids. Across his cheeks, on his nose, down to his lips. They lingered there, stealing the heat away from him. Jimin always claimed he loved kissing him in the winter because his lips were always warm. When they pulled apart, though, Jimin’s skin wasn’t the only place that had thawed. “It can be any time.” From Jimin, that was a promise. “Tomorrow, next week, even in ten years. I’ve got you.”

Jungkook pulled the smaller hybrid into him, all but crushing their bodies together in a hug. “I know, hyung.” No matter how fractured his heart felt, now matter how scarily raw he was, they would glue him back together, just like every time he needed them before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bone tired after a long day at work, and yet somehow she had still managed to take a detour. (Y/N) lifted her head up from where it almost fully rested against the top of the steering wheel, her gloved hands running absently back and forth across the leathered material.

The car was still running, her half-glazed eyes staring up at the storefront she was parked in front of. The Babbling Book. A cozy family-owned bookshop she’d been meaning to check out a long time.

And after mentioning to her coworker she was hoping to support small businesses more this season and looking for her next cozy winter read, he had pointed her in the direction of this place on the hybrid side of town.

Apparently they actually had a wider selection than what was kept in the bigger, chain bookstore down on mainstreet, and (Y/N) could believe it. Mom and pop stores didn’t have to cater to corporate interests. They were free to stock whatever their heart desired.

Cutting the engine, (Y/N) dabbed at her nose to make sure it wasn’t running, climbing out of her car. It really was a cute little store, a striped green awning hanging over the door, and a modest amount of snow and frost sprinkled there. The trim around the door was painted in the same friendly shade of green, and the light red brick it was set in gave it a nostalgic appeal.

Rubbing her hands together for lack of something better to do with them, she carefully traveled the cleared walkway, hit in the face with a blast of warm air and a whiff of cinnamon and cardamom as soon as she opened the door.

“Hi!” (Y/N) barely suppressed her yelp as a young girl slid down from a ladder, landing right in front of her with an energetic wave. She couldn’t have been more than eleven or twelve, bundled in a long skirt, leggings and a puffy pink sweater, gold eyes wide as her bushy tail twitched. “Whoa,” she said, awed. “Are you a human?”

“Y-” (Y/N) looked around, where other customers had baskets on their arms and were quietly shopping. Most of them appeared to be hybrids. Everywhere around her she saw long, pointed ears, or various length tails. Did her coworker tell her wrong? Were humans even supposed to be in here? Blushing at the thought of possibly intruding, (Y/N) heard her voice come out in a self-conscious whisper, plucking her sleeve. “Yes?”

Eyes practically glowing, the fox girl opened her mouth wide. “Soo-ah!” Only for it to fall shut as a woman with a gorgeous silver fox tail and wearing an apron hurried over. “You know we don’t ask guests questions like that.” Soo-ah’s ears drooped a little at the tips.

“Yes, eomma. Sorry miss…” Soo-ah bowed apologetically.

“Everyone is welcomed here,” the woman assured (Y/N), plucking up and offering her a basket. “Please come in and browse, stay as long as you like.”

The adult hybrid ushered her daughter away by the shoulders, but not before Soo-ah threw her a wave. (Y/N) laughed under her breath, waving back and deeply inhaling the scent of paper and warm cinnamon. Although it wasn’t the largest bookstore she had ever been in, the displays around the shop already had several titles that caught her eye, and the shelves were stacked high.

(Y/N) almost didn’t know where to begin, and if she were a hybrid her tail would no doubt be wagging eagerly. Tracing her finger along the spine of a book in the mystery section, she carefully removed it from the shelf, studying the cover and then flipping it over to read the synopsis. There weren’t many books sold in her area of the city where hybrids featured as the protagonists.

Often, they were depicted as pets or sidekicks or god forbid, villains. So the thought of a calico cat hybrid being the lead detective in a murder mystery slash thriller already sounded interesting, and she placed it in her basket. It wasn’t hard to lose track of time, all the new books at her fingertips, each its own adventure. (Y/N) had hardly looked up since sinking into a chair near the fantasy section, thumbing through the pile she was considering, until a thud from nearby drew her attention.

‘That kind of sounded like someone fell over…’

Concerned, (Y/N) set the book down and hurried toward the source of the noise, finding a massive pile of books had indeed overturned, a pair of legs sticking out from under them. “Hang on!” She gasped, bending to pick up as many as she could, the pile starting to wiggle as the poor person underneath slowly sat up.

(Y/N) was so preoccupied with getting the books off them, hearing the sound of her own name almost made her drop them all again. “(Y/N)-ssi…?”

Astoundingly, she realized she knew the owner, one slightly dazed and very confused wolfdog hybrid meeting her eyes as she looked up. “N-Namjoon-ssi?!”

Swallowing, he climbed to his feet, brushing the front of his comfortable-looking gray pullover and then leaning down to offer her a hand. “What are the odds of running into each other here? Here, that was my fault. Let me.”

Before she could even tell him she had it handled, he was plucking the books up to tuck under his arm and using the other hand to help her up. (Y/N) held her breath a little, not wanting to look like she was swooning at the way he easily pulled her to her feet. Still, it was gentlemanly, and running into him was a pleasant surprise.

“Do you come here often?” She could have smacked herself as soon as it was out of her mouth. It sounded so much like a cheesy pick-up line. And yes, Namjoon was a very handsome man, his healthy tanned skin bringing out the sparkle in his dragon eyes. But given that she had only just gotten to know some of his family, the idea of actually making a pass felt absurd. Surely, he had his eye on someone else anyway.

“It feels like at least once a week.” He grinned, starting to place some of the books on the shelf.

“More like twice.” The fox woman hummed as she hurried by with a cart of books.

(Y/N) smiled as she started to help Namjoon collect what was left on the carpet. “Sounds like they know you pretty well around here.”

“You could say I’m a regular customer,” He shrugged, looking both pleased and bashful. “I really like a good book, and I go through them pretty fast. Every time I put one down I end up right back here for the next one.” Clearing his throat, he added, “I don’t always ruin Soon-Bok’s shop, though. I’m just a little more ‘light-footed’ when I’m excited, as Jin likes to say.”

The way one of his ears drooped a little was too cute, (Y/N) thought as she melted a little. Namjoon said it so earnestly and matter-of-fact, too. She couldn’t help but picture the elegant wolfdog form she had seen, bumbling around and skidding into things with big paws and a thumping tail.

Trying to fight down the smile surfacing, (Y/N) looked him in the eyes. “It’s my first time here.” she explained. “And the selection’s so different from what I’m used to at the bookstore I usually go to. I can see why you love it. There’s so much more—”

“Literature by hybrid authors?” He guessed.

“That too.” (Y/N) had at least five books all written by hybrids in her basket, and even more to sort through. “I was going to say diversity, but in this case I guess that’s practically the same thing.”

“It’s nice.” Namjoon nodded, finished organizing the books he had knocked down. (Y/N) struggled to get one she was pretty sure had come from a high shelf above her head back where it belonged, until Namjoon held out his hand with a short laugh. “May I?”

Not too proud to concede defeat, she put the self-help book in his large hand and watched as he easily slotted it back where it belonged with minimal stretching. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t sort of envious. “Soo…you wouldn’t happen to have any recommendations, would you?” Namjoon turned to her, eyes widening. “Since you’re more familiar with the selection here.” Was that dumb? Was that pushy? She was rusty at the whole socializing thing. Probably one of the reasons she’d always struggled to make friends… “You don’t have to if you don’t want—”

“I want to…” Namjoon’s eyes grew soft, “I’d love to.” It took (Y/N) a few seconds to realize the sound of something chopping the air was his tail wagging at an impressive pace. “What are you interested in?”

“What’ve you been reading lately?” She asked, genuinely curious. Someone like Namjoon probably had a fascinating taste in books.

“Contemporary philosophy,” he said immediately. “Um, but I’m also following a murder-mystery series, and I planned to try a book about spiritual cultivation through gardening, because I enjoyed the author’s other book about emotional regulation through music writing and…” Dipping his head, Namjoon paused.

“Why’d you stop?” (Y/N) asked.

“Is it too much?” He glanced down, “I know sometimes when I start in about what I’m reading it can be a little hard to follow. Not because I don’t think you’re capable of keeping up intellectually,” he quickly clarified. “But I know I get lost in tangents sometimes…”

“There’s nothing wrong with showing how passionate you are about your interests.” (Y/N) laid a hand on his arm. “That just tells me it spoke to you on an emotional level, and maybe it’ll speak to me the same way.”

Namjoon’s dimples revealed themselves in a sudden, beautiful smile that left her reeling back internally. Talk about a hidden weapon. Yes, (Y/N) knew he was attractive. Everyone in his family was. But to be on the receiving end of that look did make her heart skip a beat. “If you’ve got time, I could show you where the book is…and there’s a reading nook in the back. It’s a pretty peaceful way to pass a day like this.”

The spot Namjoon led them to was exactly as comfortable as she had described, the kind of cozy that was made for reading on a rainy or snowy afternoon indoors. She plopped down into one of the leather bean bag chairs, and he took an armchair right across from it.

The wolfdog gingerly passed her a copy of the book he had recommended, and (Y/N) studied the cover and read the blurb on the inside of the dust jacket. “Hmm oh yes, this is right up my alley. Definite purchase. Thank you, Namjoon-ssi.”

He nodded quietly, his eyes pleased. “Any time.” (Y/N) noticed him pull a book onto his lap, squinting as she caught some of the words on the cover but not quite able to make it out.

“What’s that about? Any good?” He stilled, stared at what he had in his hands wide-eyed, eliciting a bit of confusion from her.

“I’m actually not sure yet.” Namjoon admitted. “It just…spoke to me. It’s by an author who explains how he learned to work through his grieving process by managing fish tanks, and what he took out of it. It’s a bit…nebulous based solely on the introduction, but I get it. All of us have been working through losing Gramps in different ways, and sometimes…the progression of it surprises you.”

(Y/N) found herself nodding along, listening silently as he spoke. “I feel the same way. The whole thing gives you so much whiplash, one minute you’re okay, the next minute something reminds you of them and you’re breaking down over a song or a smell…”

Namjoon ran long fingers over the glossy book cover, his smile soft but distant. It wasn’t a smile for her, not really. He was thinking back to a memory, recalling a time that passed with the bittersweet fondness only nostalgia could bring. “Everything is heightened when you’re a hybrid, especially when you have a canine nose. After…after he was gone…his smell was still everywhere. All of our smells are thick around the farm, but Gramps’ was like a phantom for a while. I’d catch his scent somewhere and forget he was…” When he swallowed, she tracked the movement of his adam’s apple. (Y/N) waited for him to finish, in case he had anything to add, but that seemed to be the extent of wanting to talk about it at the moment.

She turned over the book in her own hands absently, wanting him to know she could relate. “I lost my mom very suddenly as a little girl. And then I lost…my path. I still had my dad, but I felt so alone. I couldn’t understand how fate could be so cruel and she could just be gone. I dwelled on it for a long time, and it didn’t help that people wouldn’t let me forget I was broken. I heard the comments they thought they whispered.”

She sniffled, surprised at herself as her eyes burned a little. Usually, she didn’t cry over her mother anymore. She could talk about it without tears coming to her eyes. Usually. “Ah, well,” she cleared her throat. “Thanks again for the recs. I’m especially eager to read up on how this author’s thoughts on existentialism relate to how they tackle the grieving process.”

If Namjoon noticed the shine to her eyes, he was kind enough not to bring it up. He perked up. “I really think you’ll enjoy it, and if you do, maybe…I could recommend more books sometime?”

(Y/N) readily agreed, hoping he would do just that. “I’d really like that.”

It was nice talking to Namjoon, needing out a little, enjoying conversation with a fellow bibliophile. The time slipped away way too quickly as they sat and talked, and when they both had made their purchases and got ready to go, it felt like saying goodbye after a nice day out with a friend. Is that…what they were? Is that what they could maybe become? Friends?

Namjoon held the door open for her as they walked out, and a part of (Y/N) swooned at how considerate it was. She sat for a while once she was back in her car, letting her hands rest on the steering wheel and waiting to warm up. Namjoon had thrown one long leg over his bike after securing his books in a basket, waving as he rode by.

She slowly backed out of the parking space, careful to watch for anyone behind her, whether they were on two legs or four. ‘Hanging out with them…it’s kind of nice.’ It’d been a long time since it felt like she had a group who “got her”.

**TAGLIST IS CLOSED**:

@sunoosult @hesmyphenominiall @taradevonne @childfmoonn @stcrwhiz @ghostkat23 @colourlyhobbit @juju-227592 @iconicjk @cestlabellemort @squishyturtle @singukieee @jcrml @neyneythepainaway @emu007 @mojojojothegreat @daydreambrliever @dinorahrodriguez @cosmos-d-clouds @blackrockshooter780 @hydroyaksha @tinyoonsblog @toughbook @4evahevah @7dilemma7 @yoursoontobestepmom @jiminie-08 @black-rose-29 @malewife-supremacy @do-as-you-dont @yoonseok-jjang @mageprincess7 @pipminnie @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered @kodzuskook @doublebunv @nonbinaryidiot @silscintilla @amarokofficial @bangtanxberm @kimsaerom @aurorasymphonies @kawaiikpoplover268 @anacbm

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anyasathenaeum · 4 months ago

Text

Partner (Eriks!Vash x Reader)

A/N: Howdy, everybody. Sorry for having disappeared off the face of the Earth for a while without a word. I ended up getting injured, worsened the injury and now I'm recuperating. Anyways, have this. I highly recommend listening to this song while reading since it's the song that randomly inspired me to write this. I imagined the dancing in this fic as being kind of like Regency Era dancing (think of the dancing in Pride and Prejudice (2005) or Anna Karenina (2012)). Also, see if you can find the reference to one of my other fics in this piece. Also also, thank you to all of you who still like and reblog my writings - I see each and every one of you and I'm grateful to you all. ❤️❤️ Warnings: Hurt/comfort, angst, tearful reunions, Wolfwood being a big brother, a menace and a terrible dancer (not a warning, this is a fact) Word Count: 5.7k

One year.

It had already been one year since the destruction of Julai city, killing 90% of the population as a result.

The man looking back at Vash in the mirror wasn't somebody he recognized - this man was haggard, tired-looking and radiated a sadness that could almost be physically felt. This man, with his gaunt face, his scruffy jaw, chin and cheeks, his messy, long blonde hair, his dull and lifeless blue eyes, looked like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and all the suffering that came with it. This wasn't Vash.

This man was Eriks. The wanderer that was found a year ago by Grandma Sheryl and her young granddaughter, Lina, after... after...

'Don't.'

The little voice in Vash's head warned him, but the pain burned through him regardless the moment he remembered all he had lost that day a year ago.

His brother.

His freedom.

You.

And just like that, your face, so vivid and full of life with a smile as vibrant as the sun, popped into Vash's mind before he could truly stop it. The pain from before exploded into sheer agony, and Vash found himself squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to will away the image of you in his mind, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the washbasin in an attempt to ground himself.

To remember you was too painful. Too heartbreaking. Especially when the reason you had been lost was him and him alone.

The last time Vash had seen you, you'd been pulled away from him by Wolfwood as Vash fought with his twin brother, Nai. He could still hear your voice, screaming his name, trying so desperately to get to him despite Wolfwood's grip on you.

Soon after that, the city had imploded around Vash when he fell back down to the ground, and as he struggled to escape the carnage left behind, he caught no glimpse of you, saw no proof of your survival. And so, Vash was left to accept the only conclusion that remained - that he had killed you, his best friend of so many years, just as he had 90% of the residents of Julai city.

'Stop. Just stop it.'

The little voice in Vash's mind scolded him as it so often did, and when he reopened his eyes and looked into the mirror, somehow, the man looking back at him looked even more exhausted, lifeless and sadder than usual. In an attempt to distract himself and pull himself back together, Vash splashed some tepid water on his face before drying himself rather roughly.

"Eriks?" came a soft call through the door of his bedroom, accompanied by a gentle knocking. Grandma Sheryl.

Quickly pulling himself together as best as he could, Vash stood up straight and took a deep breath before walking over to the door to his room and opening it. Sure enough, there stood Grandma Sheryl, her wizened old face filled with concern and a gentle, motherly warmth, a bundle of cloth in her arms.

"Hey," Vash answered, forcing as best a smile on his face as he could manage with the lingering pain he was still feeling. "What's up, Grandma?"

Grandma Sheryl relaxed a bit, but the concern never disappeared from her face as she took in the man she considered her adoptive grandson, "Sorry to disturb you, dear. I had a favour to ask of you, and I'll be honest, it's a bit of a big favour."

"No such thing, Grandma," Vash replied immediately, waving away her concerns with gentle reassurance. "What can I help you with?"

"Well..." Grandma Sheryl trailed off, shaking her head a bit before sighing, "It's Lina. Apparently, there's some kind of dance happening tonight at the saloon in town and she's dead set on going. And you know how stubborn that girl is when she's decided on something."

This drew a small, genuine chuckle from Vash as he knew exactly what Sheryl meant - Lina was well known for her spunk, her boldness and her stubbornness despite only being all of 12 years old. "Don't we all?"

"Well, the issue is that chaperoning Lina at a dance is much harder for me now as I'm getting older. I'm afraid it's getting to be beyond my abilities to do such a thing, but I don't want her going alone. Would you be willing to go with her and keep an eye on her tonight?" Grandma Sheryl asked, her lips twisted in a frown.

Vash almost let a tired sigh slip, but he restrained himself. It was obvious that Sheryl felt bad asking this of him, as she knew he was struggling. She wasn't blind, but it was evident that she really had no other choice with this.

"Sure," Vash found himself answering before he could really think about it. "I'll go with her."

The surprise on Grandma Sheryl's face was clear, but it was quickly followed by relief, "Thank you, Eriks. I can't tell you how big a help that is. I promise, I'll find some way to repay you. In the meantime, please take these. You can wear them tonight."

Grandma Sheryl held out the bundle of cloth she'd been holding for Vash to take, and once he did, it immediately became evident to him that what she'd offered him were dress clothes, made of much finer material than his typical homespun shirts and pants.

"I hope they fit you. I borrowed one of your shirts and one pair of your pants so I could get you something that's close to your size," Sheryl admitted sheepishly, her face turning a gentle shade of pink. "I'm sorry, Eriks."

The admission pulled another small laugh from Vash as he looked down at the old woman in front of him, "You're forgiven. It was kind of you to think of me being prepared for tonight."

Vash glanced over at his bedside table, taking note of the time - it was already getting into the early evening, "Speaking of tonight, it looks like I ought to get ready."

"Right! Of course," Sheryl replied immediately. "I'll leave you to it. Lina's getting ready, too. I'll tell her to wait for you in the living room."

"Thank you, Sheryl."

Vash's reply was gentle, his voice surprisingly quiet. Deep down, he knew that his thanks was much more profound than simply for the clothes Sheryl had gifted him. It was for everything she had done for him since the first time he had crossed the threshold into her home a year ago, a mess and even worse a wreck than he was now.

With a soft, warm smile and without a single word, Grandma Sheryl simply approached him and reached up, patting his stubbled cheek with her hand gently. It seemed she understood what he had truly meant. After that moment of quiet, maternal tenderness, Sheryl turned on her heel and left him be, giving him time to get ready for the night ahead.

Vash closed the door with his hip before walking over to his bed and getting changed into the dress clothes Sheryl had bought him. The fabric felt smoother and almost silky against his skin, his numerous scars particularly sensitive to the feeling of the fabric. As he tucked in his shirt and brushed off the pants, he returned to the mirror at his washbasin to take a look at himself.

The dress shirt was a simple white button-down, but it was much classier-looking than his usual attire, with gloves to complete the upper half of his look. His pants were black and sleek and seemed to fit him perfectly. Suddenly, the man in front of him seemed to transform from haggard to rugged. Almost... handsome. Though, something was definitely missing.

After studying his reflection for much longer than was probably necessary, Vash finally figured out what it was that was missing - he had to do something with his hair. It was far too long and messy to be left down for such an event, so he did the only thing he could think of: he grabbed an elastic band from his washbasin shelf and tied his hair up in a bun. A few strands that were too short to be pulled back remained, framing his face and his glasses.

'There. Much better.'

The little voice in his head gave its approval at the sight in front of him. Tying his hair back had done just the trick.

"Well, well, well, Mr. Stampede, look at you! You clean up nicely."

The voice was so clear in Vash's mind that he believed for a moment that he had truly heard it, going to far as to look around the room for the source of it. But even as he looked, he knew it was futile - the voice he'd imagined had been yours. It was what you might've said if you'd been standing next to him, looking at his reflection with him. He could picture you standing there with him, grinning brightly at the man in the mirror, a teasing glint in your eyes.

Another hot, piercing bolt of pure agony jolted through Vash, making him flinch. In that moment, all the willpower he had had to go through with this evening left him. What had he been thinking? He couldn't do this. Not now.

How could he possibly go out, be around other people, keep an eye on Lina and pretend to be alright when it was the last thing in the world he was? How could he possibly partake in dancing, something you had loved so dearly, something the two of you had done together countless times over the years, whether it were on dance floors or sandsteamer decks? How could he face all that he had lost when his partner wasn't there to face it with him anymore?

'But you have to,' the little voice chided. 'You promised Sheryl. You owe her and Lina this much.'

Taking a slow, deep, steadying breath, Vash collected himself as best as he could, willing away his sorrow and his grief as best as he could before heading downstairs to where Lina was waiting for him. The young girl was wearing her own dress clothes, a few clips in her hair and an excited smile on her face, which only widened when she caught sight of him.

"Woah! Eriks, you look so nice!" Lina exclaimed, taking in the sight of Vash in his dress clothes.

"So do you," Vash replied, a soft smile on his face and a hint of teasing in his tone. "Turns out that you clean up nicely, you little rascal."

"Hey!" Lina retorted immediately, pouting at him. "Don't you start with me."

Raising his hands up in the air in surrender, Vash laughed, "Yes, ma'am. My apologies. Shall we get going?"

"Yes, we shall," Lina replied with a huff, but the girl couldn't fully suppress her smile as she took Vash's arm.

"Be careful, you two. And have fun!" Sheryl called from the kitchen, poking her head out to smile at her family.

"Thanks, Grandma! We will!" Lina called back for the both of them, smiling at her grandmother and waving. "Love you!"

"Love you, too!"

The walk to town was filled with banter and teasing, jokes and sass, as conversations between Lina and Vash typically were. The young girl's excitement about the dance seemed to be contagious, as Vash found himself feeling more relaxed and excited than he had in a very long time. By the time they got to the saloon, they could see and hear how busy it had already gotten - laughter, talking, music and sounds of glasses clinking and chairs being moved could be heard from outside the saloon itself.

"Dang, looks like the whole town was excited for this," Vash chuckled, more to himself than to Lina, but the young girl answered him anyways, "Yeah! All the kids in my class were talking about it since the start of the week!"

Sure enough, when they got inside, the saloon was more alive than Vash had ever remembered seeing it. Decorations dangled from the second-story balcony, and the entire town seemed to have joined the party, with people sitting and standing wherever they possibly could. The only place that had some open space was the dance floor, so dance partners could dance without trampling each other.

"Oh, look! There are my friends!" Lina shouted abruptly over the volume of all the talking and laughing, drinking and eating around them. She waved to a group of kids her age, all of whom waved back to her excitedly before beckoning her over.

"Go on. Have fun. I'll be by the bar if you need me, okay?" Vash encouraged her with a soft smile.

"Thanks, Eriks," Lina replied, giving him a big hug with her small arms wrapped around his waist and her face pressed against his chest before heading off to join her friends, who eagerly greeted her.

True to his word, Vash made his way through the crowd towards the bar, only stopping briefly to exchange some small talk with townsfolk who knew him. As he spoke with them, however, he suddenly caught a familiar scent that stopped him mid-sentence - your scent. It wasn't a perfumey or cologney smell, but your scent, the scent of your skin, the same scent Vash often caught and secretly cherished whenever the two of you had shared a bed and slept side by side, more often than not ending up with your limbs entangled together by morning.

He looked around frantically, trying desperately to see if he might catch sight of you in this tightly-packed crowd. His heart began to race faster than it had in the past year, and the sounds of the saloon became muffled as he focused, searching for any sign of you. That scent... there was no way that, too, had been a figment of his imagination. It had been faint, but it was definitely real.

Vash searched and searched the endless sea of faces, his heart beginning to ache from how fast it was beating against his ribs. It felt as though his heart would burst out of his chest and lead him straight to you. It was calling to you, calling to its other half, begging you to answer him, to be here with him, to soothe him, hold him, love him and comfort him after all he had been through.

For the past year, he had believed you were as good as dead, but he had never gotten any true confirmation of that. It had been too painful to even think of you, let alone take action.

So maybe... just maybe...

Yet, the longer he searched, the quicker his hope began to die. There was no sign of you anywhere. But just as Vash began to give up his search for you, something caught his eye in an opposite corner of the saloon from where he was standing - a giant cross, wrapped in cloth and bound by a strap, leaned unassumingly against a wall.

The Punisher.

There was no way Vash could ever mistake it. He knew that gun well, and he knew its owner even better. And standing there, leaned against the wall next to his gun, was Wolfwood himself. The undertaker looked tired and even gently annoyed as he studied the crowd carefully, but Vash watched as the man's eyes softened as he caught sight of something. Or rather, someone.

A figure approached the undertaker, holding two glasses. The figure offered one glass to Wolfwood, keeping the other for themselves and taking a sip before turning to face the crowd.

As he caught sight of your eyes, your face, Vash felt his heart stop.

You were here.

You were here and you were alive.

Vash felt his breath hitch as he took you in from where he stood, all the way on the other side of the saloon. In that moment, the world seemed to fall away - there was nobody else in the room except for you and him.

'You're here. You're alive,' the little voice in Vash's mind repeated the same thought, over and over again, on an endless loop.

You looked much the same as the last time Vash had seen you in Julai. But one thing that caught his attention was just how tired you seemed. Your posture, the way you held yourself, with your shoulders curled forward, made it seem like you carried the weight of the world on your shoulders. Your expression wasn't the calm or happy one he remembered. Instead, your face was a mask filled with sadness, your eyes dull as they flitted aimlessly across the crowd. You almost seemed... unwell, somehow.

Something about you, even like this, felt eerily familiar to Vash. And then, it hit him; you looked the same way his reflection had looked earlier today.

The ache in Vash's heart at that realization was enough to make his eyes sting. It was clear that you were hurting just as much as he had been all this time. Of course you were hurting; you'd lost him just as he'd lost you. How could you not be hurting?

Before he could stop himself, Vash found himself moving, pushing through the crowd in a desperate attempt to get to you. He had to get to you. His life, his very existence, depended on him getting to you as soon as he possibly could. He didn't care about anything else, he couldn't care about anything else, not when you were here in the same saloon as him after a year of being apart. After a year of believing he had lost you for good.

But before he could make it to you, the music for another round of dancing started up, and the crowd shifted as eager dancers took to the floor, rushing in front of Vash and blocking his path to you. It made him want to scream, to yell at every person who kept him from you for even a second longer. He wanted, no, needed to reach you, to confirm you were really here, to hold you, to cry in your arms and beg your forgiveness for all the pain and grief he had brought you, to thank every deity in existence for your survival. He needed you.

As Vash struggled to find his way through the crowd to you, though, the tune that was playing caught his attention. He recognized the song as being the tune for a popular dance well-known across No Man's Land, a dance shared typically by lovers. You and him had danced together many a time to this song, you both knew the dance through and through and could dance it even without the music guiding you. In fact, you had done just so on many a sleepless night, with nothing but the desert wind as your orchestra.

So much had been up in the air between the two of you back then. Nothing was straightforward or particularly clear, the lines between you and Vash blurred. Neither of you really ever knew what the relationship you shared was. Were you just friends? Were you more? The two of you were certainly much closer than just friends should be, knew more of one another than friends would, but... neither of you acted on it. Neither of you took the leap to ask the question that would clarify it all. And so, the two of you remained stuck in that strange world of the in-between, not really just friends, but not really lovers, either.

But now, as Vash fought to get to you, to be reunited with you after grieving you for a year, there was no doubting it anymore - you were his everything. You were his life, his better half, and he loved you more than anything and he had to tell you that.

Vash could see Wolfwood saying something to you, gesturing to the dancefloor, his expression softer than Vash had ever seen it. Wolfwood seemed to be encouraging you, and given his gestures, it seemed like he was trying to get you to dance with him. But the sheer pain and sadness in your eyes and on your face as you looked back at Wolfwood made it plain how you felt about dancing. It hurt Vash's heart to see you refusing to do something you had so dearly loved, but deep down, he also found himself feeling weirdly comforted that it was likely due to how much it (and by extension, he) had meant to you.

Wolfwood was persistent, though, and after a little while of talking to you, Vash could see your expression becoming more open as you became more receptive to his encouragement. Then, Vash watched you let out a deep breath before putting down your glass on a nearby table, Wolfwood doing the same before he took your hand and almost dragged you to the dancefloor.

Within seconds, it was evident that Wolfwood had no idea what he was doing. He wasn't a dancer, despite being a good fighter, and he very clearly didn't know the dance, his attempts clumsy at best. But still, admirably, Wolfwood persisted, doing his best to dance with you and make you happy. In any other situation, Vash might've laughed at the scene, but right now, all he was focused on was getting to you.

Then, with a sudden flash of inspiration, he knew exactly how to get to you. There would be a moment in this dance where you and Wolfwood would step away from each other as part of the steps, and given that Wolfwood would come towards where Vash was standing, he could easily step in and take Wolfwood's place. He had only mere seconds to get into position on the edge of the dance floor as he knew that dance step was coming shortly based on the music.

As the music flourished, you and Wolfwood went your separate ways on the dance floor as anticipated, with Wolfwood approaching the edge of the dance floor where Vash was standing while you went the opposite way.

The world seemed to slow as Vash stepped forward onto the dance floor, swiftly stepping in and taking Wolfwood's place with practiced precision.

This was it.

As you returned to where you and Wolfwood would rejoin for the rest of the dance, you were instead met by a man you hadn't seen before.

Your eyes widened in surprise, taken aback by your new dance partner. You could see Wolfwood standing by the edge of the dance floor, looking equal parts confused and relieved not to be dancing with you anymore as he watched you and the man who had taken his place.

The man was a much better dancer than Wolfwood, and within seconds, it was evident that he knew the steps as well as a professional dancer did. The way he spun you, held you, walked with you in time to the music, all of it felt so easy, so natural, so... right. As if you had done this dance with this man a thousand times before.

You couldn't help but stare at your new partner, trying to figure out why the hell he'd stepped in and decided that you, out of all the people on the dancefloor, were to be his partner. The man was rugged and extremely handsome, but something about the way he held you, the way he guided you and touched his hand to yours as you danced together spoke to a profound tenderness. His eyes, such a beautiful shade of blue, never left your face, studying you with such intensity that it almost made you uncomfortable. It might've, if his gaze hadn't felt so familiar.

You took in every detail of this man - his hair, his body type, his eyes, his nose, his lips, the stubble on his chin, the glasses on his face, the way one of his hands felt cold and hard while the other was soft and warm through his gloves as they pressed against yours. Something inside you was screaming, your heart aching every time you shared a touch with him or looked at him, but for the life of you, you couldn't figure out why.

What was it about this man that was making you feel like this? Why did it feel like you'd known this man for ages? Why did your body and his seem to move in such perfect synchronization, as though the two of you had practiced this dance together?

Who was this man?

The endless questions that swirled around torrentially in your mind all vanished the moment your eyes once again met his.

He was crying.

This beautiful man, with his hand still pressed to yours, was crying openly before you, tears slipping silently down his cheeks as his gaze remained trained on you. He didn't seem to care if others saw.

It felt so wrong, seeing tears in those beautiful eyes of his. They didn't belong there. It felt as though you'd been punched in the stomach, all the air in your lungs leaving you in a second at the sight of him crying. All you wanted was to reach out and wipe those tears away, comfort this mysterious dance partner of yours.

Then, in a way you've only ever seen one man do before, the beautiful man smiled at you through his tears.

Vash.

The realization hit you like a thunderbolt.

This man, with the same blue eyes, the same beauty mark by his eye, the same smile, and same colour hair, the same build, the same practiced ease in dancing, was-

"Oh, my God."

The words left you in a breathless whisper, and you couldn't help but stop dancing, too shocked to remember what steps came next. Not that it truly mattered, since the dance was ending, anyways.

You stood there, eyes wide, heart pounding frantically in your chest as you stared at the man before you - the very same man you had spent most of the last year searching for. The same man you had prayed to whatever deity existed to find each and every night. The same man whose loss you'd grieved and cried over countless times.

"(Y/N)."

His whispered call of your name broke you from your thoughts, only for you to realize that now, you too were crying openly before him.

You couldn't bring yourself to say anything, but your body seemed to move before your mind could. You stepped forward and all but flung your arms around Vash, hugging him tightly and burying your face into his chest, trying not to start sobbing hysterically while still on the dancefloor. You felt Vash's arms immediately wrapping around you in return, hugging you to him tightly and holding you close as the two of you simply stood there, the dance coming to an end around you.

As the other dancers began moving off the floor, you found yourself being led away yourself by Vash, with him guiding the pair of you towards the stairs to the second floor balcony.

The upstairs of the saloon was much quieter than the first floor, with only a handful of people lingering around, most of them too drunk to be paying any attention to the two of you. When there was enough privacy, peace and quiet, Vash pulled you into his arms once more, allowing himself to sob against you the way he wanted to from the moment he saw you again.

"(Y/N), oh, (Y/N). I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Vash's cries were muffled by your hair as he held you against him, his tears staining your skin as he wept and begged for your forgiveness. He wasn't even really sure what he was apologizing for in particular - he had so many sins that he had committed against you that he couldn't even begin to think of choosing which one he was apologizing for. Despite the guilt, despite the pain, all that Vash could really feel was overwhelming relief and happiness to have you back in his arms once more.

While Vash's heart had broken when he saw the tears coursing down your cheeks, he couldn't remember ever feeling more relieved than the moment when he saw the recognition in your eyes, when you pieced together who he was. It was all he possibly could've hoped for, to have you back, alive and here with him. It felt as though he were getting a second chance; a chance to take better care of you, to love you properly and protect you and keep you by his side. A second chance at life.

"Vash! Oh, Vash, it's you! You're here," you sobbed into his chest, clutching onto him as though he would disappear the moment you let him go. "You're here!"

Was it possible that this was really happening? That this wasn't just some dream of yours, a dream sent by your mind when life had become too difficult? The feeling of Vash pressed against you, of his arms wrapped tightly around you, of his tears against your skin and his scent surrounding you made you believe so. There was no way this could ever be a dream.

The two of you simply sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, crying in each other's arms as you both realized that this was real. You had somehow found each other again after a year of pure hell, and now, the two of you were reunited once more. Neither of you were sure of how long you'd spent crying, but neither of you cared. All that mattered was that right now, neither of you let go of the other.

Then, Vash was pulling away from you just enough to be able to cup your face, that same tenderness you remembered so well ever present. Following his gentle touch, you felt something soft pressing against your lips. Your eyes flew open as you realized what was happening - he was kissing you.

Your heart stopped for a second, unable to process what was happening, before beginning to race faster than you'd ever felt it do in your life.

Vash was kissing you. He was kissing you.

You could've screamed from the overwhelming joy you were feeling, but instead, you opted to melt into the kiss, your eyes closing as you returned it with equal fervour.

Vash relaxed significantly as he felt you return the kiss, and his hand came up to cup the back of your head, holding you close to him as he tried to convey everything he felt for you through this single gesture. He wanted you to know how much he loved you, how much you meant to him, how happy he was that you were alive and here with him.

When he pulled away, the words spilled from his lips before he could stop himself, "I love you. I love you, (Y/N)."

You let out a tearful laugh, unable to believe what you were hearing. This man, the man you'd loved so deeply for so long, loved you, too.

"I love you, too, Vash."

How good it felt to finally get those words out into the world, to finally tell Vash the truth of how you felt about him. After the agony of past year, you knew you had to tell him. He had to know the truth. And now, he did.

Vash let out his own tearful laugh as you confessed your love for him in return before pulling you back into his arms, holding you tightly to him. This moment felt like one out of a fairytale, but he didn't care. Nothing mattered except the fact that you were here and that you loved him as much as he loved you.

"Thank God. About damn time."

A sudden voice startled the both of you, and you and Vash looked over to see Wolfwood leaned against the wall next to the both of you, smirking like a cat who'd had cream for its supper. If looks could've killed, Wolfwood would've died instantly from the way both you and Vash were glaring at him.

Wolfwood clearly got the message that you both wanted to be left alone, because he raised his hands up in surrender and exclaimed immediately, "Woah, woah, woah. Okay, okay, I get it. I'm leaving. Damn. I'll be downstairs by the bar."

As he turned to leave, though, Wolfwood glanced back over his shoulder and gave a small grin, "Good to see you again, Spikey." before heading back downstairs.

After a few moments of silence between the two of you, you let out a deep sigh, "One of these days, I'm swear I'm going to kill him."

"Not if I kill him first," Vash answered gruffly, shaking his head in slight annoyance and amusement. "Good to see he hasn't changed one bit."

"You have, though."

Your voice was soft and filled with worry as you looked up at him, studying him once more from top to bottom. It's true that Vash had changed significantly from when you'd seen him last, but behind it all, you could still clearly see the man you loved. He was still here, waiting for you, loving you, hoping you'd return to him after all this time.

After a few seconds of simply taking in Vash's appearance, you couldn't help chuckle, "You look very rugged, Mr. Stampede. This look suits you." You reached up, tugging lightly on one of the strands of blonde hair framing his face.

"You think?" Vash chuckled quietly at your gesture, reaching up to wipe the tears from his face.

"I do," you answered simply, but then, your voice fell, becoming quieter and much more serious. "You look so tired."

"I am tired." Vash knew better than trying to lie to you. He reached his hand out, cupping your cheek tenderly, "But I have a feeling that things are about to get a lot better."

You couldn't help but smile, your heart feeling warm and fuzzy as you leaned your face into his touch, "I think so, too. We have a lot to talk about, you and I."

Vash nodded his head, a warmth flooding through him as he gazed down at you, a loving smile on his face, "We certainly do. But for now, I just want to hold the one I love most in the world, if it's all the same to you. And maybe dance with them again, too."

Your smile couldn't have been bigger.

"I couldn't ask for a better partner than you."

#anya's athenaeum #trigun stampede #trigun #trigun stampede x reader #trigun x reader #vash the stampede #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #eriks!vash #trigun eriks #eriks trigun #eriks #eriks! vash #eriks!vash x reader

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blxvdlusttxx · 1 year ago

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Surprise kisses (PART 1)

Various pastas x GN!reader

Pasta's react to GN!Bsf!Reader kissing them randomly

Content warning: Light smut (Jeff's part) kissing, fluff

Omg heyyy, sorry it's been a while. I'm going to try and write more as a distraction from my life issues right now, my long term boyfriend just broke up with me, so I've been having a hard time. bear with me :)

Lmk who you want in part 2!

this post was inspired by this tiktok :D (Tiktok here)

Jeff the Killer

You and Jeff were sitting on one of the few couches in the living room of the mansion

you both had nothing to do and everyone was doing their own thing

he was on his phone, doing god knows what when you suddenly got an idea

you stood up and sat right next to him, and gently cupped his jaw, pulling him in for a kiss which he instantly returned

He immediately dropped his phone and gripped your waist, pulling you up onto his lap

The simple kiss turned into a heated make out session, which eventually turned into him carrying you to his room and slamming the door behind you two

Plan failed successfully?

Liu Woods

You and Liu were walking in the woods as you often did, chatting about anything and everything

He had his scarf pulled down for once, something he only did around you

He was rambling about something Jeff had said that morning before you stopped walking and turned to him, grabbing him by the collar and pressing your lips to his

He was shocked, his eyes widened for a moment before melting into it

He gently grips your waist, pulling you closer to him

The kiss lasts for a minute, slow and sweet

When you pull away, he's smiling and looking away from you

He shakes his head when you smile and continue to walk, him trailing to catch up to you

Ben DROWNED

You were both laying on his bed, the room silent other than the noise of the gaming remote clicking and the video game audio from the tv

You were bored, and decided fuck it

You gently slipped your hand around the back of his neck, and pulled him closer

When he realized what you were doing, he playfully pushed you away

He laughed when you pouted and pulled your arm, pulling you to him

He kissed you, laying back so you flopped ontop of him

between how desperately long he had waited to kiss you, and all the laughing from the both of you, the kiss was messy

It was only broken apart when the death indication noise left the tv

"Y/N you are so lucky I love you." He grumbles.

Eyeless Jack

You both were quietly restocking the medical shelves with supplies the proxies had scavenged up earlier that day, simply enjoying eachothers company

It was one of the rare days that he had his mask off

His victim from the day before was rather aggressive and managed to punch him square in the face, breaking the already worn mask in two

He stopped when he felt you starring at him and turned towards you

When you went to pull him down to kiss him, he launched his head back in confusion

"Y/n, what the hell are you doing?" He asked, confusion evident in his tone

"Oh, I was going to kiss you, but I'm sorry, I won't try to again," you replied, cheeks pink with embarrassment as you turned away to continue restocking.

He then tilted his head and smiled, gently cupping your jaw and turning your head

The kiss was short, nothing more than a soft peck, but It was enough for him to notice your heartbeat picking up in pace.

Ticci Toby

You knew this would go either 2 ways

1. Tobi would flip out and run

Or 2. He would enjoy it

But whatever the odds, you decided to do it.

You were sitting in your room, tobi sitting on the edge with his legs crossed as he cleaned his hatchet (Per your request cause that things gotta be nasty)

You scooched closer to him and tapped him on the shoulder

He looked over at you, a gentle smile hidden under his mask

You reached up and slowly pulled his mask down to not startle him

"Y/n/n? What are you-"

He stopped mid sentence and dropped his hatchet on the floor when he noticed you leaning in

The kiss was gentle, you gently kissed his lips, which he shyly returned

When you pulled away, his face was BEAT red, and all he could do was smile and lean down to hide his face in your lap.

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #fanfiction #x reader #fluff #eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader #homicidal liu #homicidal liu x reader #jeff the killer #jeff the killer x reader #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby #ben drowned #ben drowned x reader

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yanderecrazysie · 6 months ago

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Twisted Zoo - Ending 6: Game Over

I am no longer doing tags. Tumblr hates me and I’d rather not waste my time when there are so many! You can keep up to date on Twisted Zoo on Tumblr, Quotev, Wattpad, or AO3.

WARNINGS: yandere themes

Note: This honestly made me creeped out writing this. Hopefully it does the same for you, mwah! I was inspired randomly so enjoy such an early update! So short, sobs...

You hurried down the sidewalk to the next enclosure you were to deal with. It wasn’t quite night, but the reptile house had already turned its internal lights off, leaving only the enclosures lit up. “Spooky,” you muttered.

You decided to visit Idia first, as you had a few new video games for his handheld controller to use. He’d been enjoying the thing very much, his eyes always shining when you brought new games for him to try. The zoo had even installed an outlet in the back of his enclosure so he could charge his device.

Opening the door was a bit of a difficult task when you were holding a baggie of games in one hand, but you were inside before you knew it. Your boots always slid a little in the muddy ground of the enclosure and you did your best to avoid stepping in the little pond.

“Idia?” you called, “I have new games for you!”

Electric blue emerged from the greenery. Idia looked excited for a moment, before his eyes dulled a little. You followed him to the far corner of his cage, where the outlet was, and began unloading the new cartridges.

“I think you’ll like this one,” you said happily, “It lets you race against NPCs and-”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with the others lately,” he said, accusatory in full, “Those obnoxious tigers, that wolf…”

You tilted your head to the side, confused, “I’m not sure how you even know that but I spend time with everyone! It’s my job, Idia, you know that.”

His laugh was bitter, “Your job? Is that all I am? Just another task to check off your objectives list?”

“I care about all of you,” you replied, stepping a little closer to the salamander.

His yellow eyes narrowed, tail starting to lash, “You don’t get it! This isn’t a casual game to me! You’re the only person who matters in this wretched place! You’re my player two!”

“Idia…” you didn’t know what to say. His webbed fingers reached out for your arm and you unconsciously pulled away from the chilly feeling.

“I’ve been patient,” Idia said, “I hoped you’d see it on your own…”

The lights in the exhibit flickered and you jumped at the introduction of sudden blackness for just a moment. There was a click as the enclosure door locked from the outside and you were suddenly plunged into darkness.

It was pure black everywhere, except for Idia, whose blue scales glowed in the dark. Your hands shot out, trying to find the wall or something that would help you leave the enclosure. You couldn’t remember where the pond was or which direction the exit was.

“Welcome to the final level,” Idia cackled, “Can you make it to the exit before I catch you? Can you even get out if you make it there?”

Your heart hammered in your chest. You turned around and plunged forward into the darkness, racing towards what you believed was where the exit was. But you had heard it lock- would your emergency keys get you out of there?

Your ankle rolled and you fell sideways into the pond. The water was cold enough to make you gasp and, when you turned around to look for the glowing blue scales, you watched as Idia slowly disappeared under the surface of the water.

Heaving yourself out of the pond, you ran with your hands spread outwards in front of you, eventually running them into the glass wall. You felt your way against the wall, knowing you’d eventually find the door.

Your fingers finally found the crack in between the door and the wall and you fumbled with your keys, trying to unlock the door. You could hear footsteps approaching you and your keys began to rattle in your trembling hands.

The lights in the reptile house turned on suddenly, lighting you up despite the darkness of the exhibit. In the reflection, you could see Idia approaching you from behind and you let out a deafening scream, trying desperately to open the door in time.

Mr. Crowley stood alone in the reptile house, clapping as though you’d put on the best show. You began to cry in frustration and fear- why wouldn’t the damn door open?

Idia’s hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer. His lips brushed against your ears, his whisper making you shiver in terror.

“Game over.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere one shot #one shot #twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere idia #idia shroud

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poppadom0912 · 1 year ago

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Is it too late?

Warnings: Mentions of periods, hospitals, surgery, pain and illness

Summary: When your older brother is a fancy surgeon, being sick is the last thing you want.

Requested by @1chicago5021

A/N: I'm still alive people. I had a sudden burst of inspiration and thought I'd finally get all these requests done before the next round of exams. I am in a lesson right now so I can’t do the usual aesthetic collage I always do. This was sent quite a while ago but I actually had so much fun writing this so thank you! I hope this lives up to your standards <3

*****

Two weeks ago now, your body randomly started not working the way you wanted it to, but you put all the blame on your period whose cramps hadn't been very forthcoming.

The painkillers were a coming in at a constant stream, hot water bottles never having the chance to go room temperature.

Your never-ending migraines and 24/7 cramps were a constant, so you expected to feel relief once you were back to normal. But that never came because this week started and somehow, you felt even worse.

When you woke up this morning to your throat feeling weird, you knew something was wrong when you drank water and the feeling didn’t go away.

Despite that, you went to school anyways, bidding your brother goodbye when he dropped you off, completely unaware of your wellbeing. But you couldn’t blame the guy, he was stressed enough over work as it is, you didn’t need to add to his already overflowing workload.

You only felt worse as the day progressed. It was only spring, nearing summer, but your body temperature wouldn’t stop fluctuating. One minute you were shivering and asking to borrow your friend's hoodie but the next you were sweating like you had just finished a marathon and was trying to get rid of as many layers as possible.

The cramps were immense. The worst you ever had and to consider you just got off your period, you weren’t a stranger to post period cramps, but this was on another level. You hadn’t been in this much pain ever even while on your reds. None of the pain killers your friends kindly provided for you alleviated the pain. Death would feel ever so sweet right about now.

You knew you were seriously sick when you were on the verge of collapsing at lunch. Your friends all shouted in alarm when you faltered on your feet in the cafeteria. You ignored their efforts and attempts to get you to the nurse's office. There wasn’t long left of the school day, there wasn’t any point in leaving with barely two hours left.

As soon as you got home, you fell face first into bed. As soon as your head hit the pillow and you pulled the covers over your body with however much strength remained in your arms that got heavier as the day went on.

You were in a deep sleep, so deep in fact that your dreams were non-existent. You weren’t too sure what time it was, but you felt someone shaking you, going from gentle to a hand tightly holding your shoulder, a muffled voice inaudible as you came in and out of your slumber.

Their gestures were painful, but you didn’t have it in you to tell the intruder as you struggled to even muster a groan. Your eyes fluttered, face digging even deeper into the pillow as if to suffocate yourself. That was all the indication the person needed to shake you harder, adamant to wake you up.

With a blocked nose, breathing out through your mouth proved itself to be a much more difficult task than it should’ve been. And stuffing your face into your pillow might not have been the best idea taking that into consideration.

Their voice sounded way too far away, as though they weren’t in the room with you. One second they were roughly holding you, the next, all pressure ceased but the pain didn’t.

Before you could even register what they were doing now, your eyes heavy with sleep dropped once more as you were enveloped into darkness again.

*****

Over the past two weeks, Connor had noticed your depleting energy but when the mood swings came along with your hot water bottles, he didn’t think any much more of the matter.

But then you showed no signs of improvements and at first, he could hardly notice. You hid it quite well at first but as the week progressed, it was apparent to him you were getting sick, and you were too stubborn to admit that to your surgeon brother.

Nonetheless, things didn’t look too bad that staying home was necessary. You were managing quite well, going to school the entire week without complaints, so he found no reason to intervene into something he knew would end up in an argument that would result in you holding a grudge and not talking to him for a few days.

He dropped you off and drove to work expecting nothing. You smiled at him when you left the car, and nothing seemed physically wrong when you picked up the pace to meet your friends.

His twelve-hour shift seemed to never end. When he had a moment to himself, he messaged you as he waited for his coffee, staring at his message that sat alone with no replies for hours. School has finished, you were sure to be home now, so why weren’t you answering?

He didn’t think much of it till he was meant to go home at twelve. He was all ready standing at his locker but then Maggie called his name and he saw several ambulances piling up outside.

As amazing as he was, his attention couldn’t be in two places at once and unfortunately for you, car crashes had more significance in this situation. But as soon as this was all over, you’d be his number one priority once more.

It was all over six hours later when he came out of the second surgery he had to take lead in.

Stepping out of the surgery theatre, he thanked all his co-workers and was dashing away to collect his things, not wanting to be here any longer. Having time to finally check his phone again, his concern skyrocketed when you still hadn’t replied to his messages.

Waving off the few staff remaining in the emergency department, Connor wasted no time in driving off. His adrenaline had yet to die down from the rush of a packed-out emergency room and doing several successful surgeries. Adding to this was his building concern for you. Maybe you were just sleeping, and your phone was on charge. Maybe it was on silent, and you didn’t hear anything. Maybe it was stolen, and you couldn’t contact him-

Connor sighed as he parked the car. Wasting no time, his body still thrumming from the surgery high, he walked into the building and took the stairs instead, taking large strides as he skipped every two.

The house was drop dead silent when he opened the door which you hadn’t locked from the inside like you usually would. That and the completely pitch-black apartment was the first things that put him on edge.

He locked the door behind him, walking in further and inspecting the living room and kitchen that didn’t look lived in. Everything was in its same place as he left it in this morning. Closing the blinds in the living room, he walked towards your bedroom, your door slightly ajar which had never been the case since you started living with him. You always shouted at him whenever he left the door even a slither open, you always needed complete darkness to sleep. The tiniest bit of light always hindering your sleeping ability.

Pushing the door open, Connor poked his head inside first to survey the room. He finally let himself relax at the sight of you lying in bed, your figure completely drowning in your duvet. The weird lump in your sheets being the only reason he could identify you.

He felt himself relax, his body physically deflating now that he had eyes on you, knowing for sure that nothing was wrong.

For some reason, your curtains were still open which they never were since you were young, always complaining, once again, that you needed complete darkness to be able to sleep. Closing your curtains, he found your phone on your bedside desk, and it was littered with notifications from not only him but all of your friends too. All of them were asking in variations if you were okay, if you felt better, did you get home safe and how you were feeling.

They were all sent at three in the afternoon. It was now two in the morning.

Concerned at the topic of the messages, Connor came over to the side of the bed you were laying on and placed his hand on your forehead, his eyes widening immediately. He felt himself warming up just from how hot you were.

Sitting down on the space by your knees, Connor shook you gently, trying to rouse you from your apparent very deep sleep but the only movement you made was from what he was doing.

“Y/N? Hey, wake up. Can you get up for me really quick?”

The adrenaline that was just dying down was picking up again along with his heart rate, why weren’t you waking up?

He shook you once again but this time, he was more rough, his worry meaning he gripped your shoulder tightly and shook you with a force that he’d never use on you before as his baby sister.

This time he tried calling you name while he tried getting you up. Lifting the duvet off your body, not only were you shivering but you were sweating a very unusual amount.

Swallowing harshly, Connor tried one more time, calling your name and roughly shaking you. “Come one, I need to you wake up Y/N.”

“Y/N. Y/N get up.”

But you just wouldn’t budge.

Deciding that enough was enough, he scooped you into his arms and it must’ve been the sudden movement that caused you to let out a small whimper in what was clearly pain. It was small but it was the most he’d gotten from you since he got home and that was better than nothing.

Foregoing his jacket, Connor made sure to slip your cardigan over your torso, so you weren’t going to die from the cold outside. He quickly slipped into his own shoes and left the building not a moment later.

*****

No one had been expecting Connor to be back at work so soon, not even him. It was a few minutes to three and the ED was relatively calm taking into account the big accident not too long ago, but Connor was grateful.

Getting out the car, Connor looked into the ED and called for the first person he saw.

“April! Get me a gurney!”

Said nurse was caught completely off guard, jumping from where she stood at the nurse's desk with Will not too standing behind her. He too clearly was confused but Connor had no time to dwell on them.

Not checking if she was listening, Connor rounded the car and picked you back into his arms, your head resting on his bicep and your legs on the inside of his elbow. Slamming the door shut, Connor strode into the emergency department and luckily for him, April and Will were more than ready to help.

“All the gurneys are used up from before, but we’ve got a free bed.” April said, leading the surgeon into an empty treatment room where Will was lowering the bedside rails.

“Talk to me Connor.” Will said, understanding there was no time for formalities when he saw it was you Connor was carrying.

“No clue what happened but she’s as hot as anything, she’s shivering and sweating at the same time and will not wake up for anything.” Connor started, gently laying you down and standing back to let Will and April do their jobs. He was itching to help but physically had to move further away from you so that he wouldn’t do anything stupid.

“Pretty sure she’s been sick and in pain for a while now, but she never said anything.” He continued, looking at all the numbers on the machines that were popping up as they were connected to your body. “When I asked last week, she just kept saying it was her period cramps.”

As April hooked you up onto an IV drip, Will started palpating your body in search for any particular place of pain. And when he came to a particular area in your lower abdomen and you cried out, the three of them looked at each other knowingly.

“Kieran should still be on shift.” Connor said, remembering the surgeon he left behind that was in charge and available.

Will nodded in confirmation, “Let’s move.”

*****

Waking up felt different to all the times before. Your levels of disorientation and haziness and confusion were on another level.

As soon as you opened your eyes, the first thing you noticed was the lack of pain. You couldn’t feel not even a pinch in your stomach, maybe it was weird to say but it felt liberating to not be in debilitating pain.

“Oh, thank goodness your awake.” Connor looked dead on his feet in the doorway of the room but the immense relief painting his face was like no other.

You made him feel and look like that- Shit, what happened, what did you do?

Before you could say anything, Connor beat you to it. “How are you feeling? In any pain?”

As he questioned you, a poured you a cup of water, holding it so all you had to do was drink and not need to exert energy that he knew from experience, you didn’t have.

Once again, before you could ask, he answered for you. “It was appendicitis. Your period cramps were in fact your appendix and last night it burst.”

“But it’s all good. We got you into surgery and your appendix is gone as should your pain.”

“Wow.” You said shakily, your voice so quiet from the lack of use.

“Please don’t do that next time.” Connor said, sitting on the empty seat by the bed, taking your hand into his. “Please tell me when you're in pain and when you feel sick. You matter to me; all your small or big problems are mine too. I don’t care how trivial they are.”

Silence followed as he set the glass aside. “You scared the shit out of me kiddo.”

And to say you felt guilty was an understatement.

“Claire’s pissed.” You both winced at the thought of your sister finding out. “She’s going to visit when she’s finished with work. I told her your healthy and out of surgery but she’s still pissed.”

“M’Sorry.” You apologised, voice hoarse and lips chapped. “I didn’t want-“

“Y/N.” Connors face made it look like he was in pain from your admission he cut off. “You’re never a bother to me okay? Me being a doctor is a good thing, use it to your advantage.”

You nodded, confirming to change next time if there was another time. Fingers crossed there isn’t.

“How hard was it to not do the surgery?” You smiled, squeezing his hand and poking his bicep. He was still in his scrubs from his shift last night.

Connor rolled his eyes and groaned. Such a sight made you laugh.

#one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #one chicago fic #onechicago #chicago med #one chicago fanfiction #chicago med x reader #connor rhodes #connor rhodes oneshot #connor rhodes x reader #connor rhodes imagine #connor rhodes x sibling #sister reader

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wosoloml · 6 months ago

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red string theory || lotte wubben-moy x reader

summary: the first time you see lotte wubben moy, you didnt actually see her.

your life was always connected because you are meant to be.

warnings: none, just fluffy fluff with my lotte girl

from this request

a/n: i hope its okay what i wrote it about lotte because i thought this request is so lotte coded

wc: 1,739 words

"Are you nervous about tomorrow?" my work colleague, who is also my best friend, Jules, looks at me with a focused expression.

A few years ago, I attended college in the USA, where I ran my own sports blog for the university newspaper. I especially enjoyed writing about the women’s football team because I witnessed the sport gaining more popularity there.

It felt so empowering to see how all the girls were following their dreams, and I always wanted to share their stories so everyone could see their passion.

I was packing all my work stuff into my bag when Jules called out my name.

"Y/N, can you please help me real quick?"

I sighed but stopped what I was doing and walked into the salesroom.

"Can you make a latte macchiato real quick? Table 7 has a big order, and I’m swamped. Sorry for interrupting you," she said.

I smiled softly at her before glancing at the girl who had ordered the latte. I barely registered her, only noticing how graceful her movements were.

It felt kind of ironic that my last customer of the day would be such a mysterious woman.

But life moved on, as it always does, and that moment faded into the countless fleeting, insignificant encounters you never expect to think about again. Until much later.

----

"Oh my girl, Jules, you made it!" I pulled her into a tight hug.

"Of course! It's your graduation today! I'm so proud of you, my little nerd."

After three years of hard work, endless studying, and way too much crying, I’m finally done. I’m now a certified sports journalist with a focus on women’s football. I couldn’t be happier.

"Now it’s time for you to introduce me to your girlfriend! I can’t wait to meet the mysterious Alessia in person."

Her smile grew even wider as I mentioned her girlfriend. "Come on, she’s right over there, chatting with an old friend from university she randomly ran into here."

----

I’ve checked my phone. 8:00. I arrived at the training ground of THE Arsenal Women’s Football Club.

When I sent my application to a few football clubs as a media coordinator, I never thought my childhood club would hire me. I spent the last few days looking for an outfit and stayed awake the whole night out of nervousness.

It’s already my second week, and I’m still not used to being around all these inspiring and energizing women. You weren’t exactly starstruck, but there was something about being around people you’d admired from afar that left you feeling slightly unsteady.

But it’s different with Lotte. From day one, she helped me with everything. Lotte, however, had a way of disarming you with her easy demeanor. When she introduced herself, it was as if you hadn’t spent the last three days binge-watching match highlights featuring her perfect tackles and precise passes.

Over the weeks, you got used to seeing her around the training ground. She always made an effort to say hi, even if it was just a quick wave or a casual “How’s it going?” Each interaction was brief, professional, and—you told yourself—entirely inconsequential. Except that, somehow, you found yourself looking forward to them.

She had this smile and the way she cared about everyone around her that sticks in my mind, and I can’t stop thinking about her even after work. It’s like we’ve known each other for years.

---

Today was Media Day, and even though I love the girls, I was relieved to have a moment for myself in the cafeteria. Suddenly, someone asked, 'May I join?' At first, I didn’t realize they were talking to me, but when my eyes met my favorite defender's, I knew Lotte was the one addressing me.

'Not at all,' I replied, gesturing to the empty seat.

I don’t want to admit it, but knowing I wasn’t paired up with Lotte for today’s interviews made me a bit sad. That’s why I’m even happier to spot her here during my little break.

She set down her tray, which held a steaming bowl of soup and a sandwich that looked far too healthy for my taste. 'So, how’s life in the media world? Still surviving?'

I chuckled at her words. 'It’s going well. After today, I have a lot of videos to edit, and I still write a blog for a college newspaper, with the deadline coming up, so I’m a bit stressed. The time difference with the USA makes it even harder. But who am I complaining to? I’m sure your schedule is even more packed.' I babbled, feeling a bit embarrassed that I hadn’t stopped talking. It was just a simple question—no need to turn it into a whole essay.

She listened closely the entire time, trying to keep up with me. "Really? You’re very ambitious about your job. I like that. You mentioned the USA. Are you writing for an American college?"

I felt seen, and it made me feel special. I adore her so much. I gathered my thoughts again to answer her.

"Yes! I went to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and have always had a passion for writing. They had a women’s football team that was still in its early stages. They inspired me so much that I decided to write about them in the weekly college newspaper. Sorry for beating around the bush, yes, I write for an American college." My cheeks turned red because, once again, I rambled on.

I noticed the sudden change in her behavior. "Wait, really?" She looked at me, kind of stunned and questioning. "I’ve been to UNC too, before signing professionally for Arsenal. Do you mean the North Carolina Tar Heels? I played for them while you were writing for them."

I widened my eyes in disbelief. "That caught me off guard—wow. We’ve been so close and never talked to each other."

“It’s like we were orbiting each other,” she said one day, her voice thoughtful. “Like we were always meant to meet, but the timing just wasn’t right.”

Her words stuck with me, replaying in my mind long after she’d said them.

---------

Over the next few weeks, sometimes Lotte would bring me a coffee. A few days later, I noticed something as she handed me the cup. "Since when do you get your coffee from that shop near Covent Garden? The one with the green awning?" She looked confused and stuttered, "Since forever. It's my favorite coffee shop. Do you know it?"

"Are you joking? I worked there a few years ago."

“I can’t believe this. It’s like we’ve been circling each other our whole lives.”

This connection with Lotte feels so magical, I can’t even process how life always seemed to bring us together.

“Maybe it’s fate,” you said softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

She smiled, a slow, knowing smile that made your heart skip a beat. “Maybe it is.”

-------

As the weeks turned into months, your relationship with Lotte continued to grow stronger. The bond you shared deepened, built on a foundation of shared history and the undeniable pull you felt toward each other.

One evening, as you sat on her couch with a cup of tea in hand, she reached over and intertwined her fingers with yours.

“You know,” she said softly, her voice quiet, “I’ve always believed in timing. That everything happens when it’s meant to.”

You looked at her, your heart full. “And what about us? What does this timing mean?”

She smiled, her eyes warm and steady. “It means we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be.”

And for the first time, you believed her.

#arsenal #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #lotte wubben moy #lotte wubben moy imagine #lotte wubben moy x reader #lotte wubben moy fluff #woso x y/n #woso fanfics #woso appreciation #woso fluff

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diamonddeputy · 7 months ago

Text

Okay I put this together for a buddy who couldn’t make it so I may as well put it here too now that I have it all in one place

All the dev commentary I picked up from the UTY anniversary stream

PLEASE REBLOG WITH ANYTHING I MAY HAVE MISSED

• It apparently took them FOREVER to solidify a design for Decibat. One of the early concepts was a literal baseball bat with wings and I enjoy this fact very much

• They originally had an idea that Dalv would accidentally try and move into Martlet’s house after leaving the Ruins LMAO

• They expanded on this piece of concept art that had been floating around: there were never really plans for the Feisty Five to be evil, they just made their own wanted posters to inflate their own egos LOL

• I didn’t really write any of the specifics down, but listening to them talk about the Flowey fight was so interesting because they were all chiming in about who worked on what parts and where the inspirations were from and where they sourced their materials. Some details I remember off the top of my head:

- Flowey’s voice lines were pulled from the same McDonald’s commercial as his canon ones

- The audio for the scene where Martlet melts before Meta Flowey was a combination of a stock laugh and a clip one of the devs just so happened to have, when they used to edit for a YouTube channel, and the file got corrupted and just randomly made that sound

- The heartbeat monitor sound that plays during the Organic speciman is taken from the frequency of an actual human heart. Don’t remember the story about how they acquired that one

- The graphics for the Polygonal speciman were inspired by PS1 horror, Ben Drowned and that meme that went around in the late 2010s of a gif of a bug that made it look like a bug was on your screen (in specific reference to the little Flowey gremlins that crawl down the screen)

- They originally had plans to include a spectrogram in the fight, but decided it would make them seem too tryhardy

• There were plans for an underwater segment that were scrapped extremely early in development, something about a bridge in Waterfall breaking

• The comment Starlo makes in the Wild East about there being a fourth mission that was scrapped from the regimen is a reference to a literal fourth mission that the devs cut because they felt like it killed the pacing, where Virgil would kidnap the Feisty Five and tie them up in places around town and you had to go rescue them and it was a stealth game type thing

• - The designs for the Feisty Five have a lot of funny inspirations

- Ed was originally designed to be a normal monster, but they liked his design so much they used it for something more important

- Initial concepts of Moray’s design had them in a fisherman’s cap or a paper boat hat, to show how unserious they were about this. Also, they weren’t originally designed to be Angie and Gillbert’s child, a playtester just made that assumption and they were like y’know what sure we’ll roll with it

- Mooch’s design originated from a Minecraft RP OC that one of the devs had that she never got to use. Which is iconic tbh

• Mo was inspired by this lil dude, who showed up and had babies in one of the devs’ attic. Additionally, while coding the game, there were little variables they put in for fun like a timer. One of them was a number that just incrementally increased, and was labelled “Crimes that Mo has committed”

• The fact that sparing Dalv doesn’t abort Geno, that everyone chalked up to being a genius narrative decision, was AN OVERSIGHT??????? It was a coding error caused by the fact that they were initially gonna make everything that happens in the Dark Ruins not count towards any route, like Flowey implies in his dialogue, but they went back on that decision and fixed it for everyone except Dalv. They made a comment on stream like “we should really fix that” and everyone in chat was like PLEASE don’t LOL

• There were never really concepts for a Geno Starlo fight. And a lot of it is the reasons the fandom talks about that he’s a coward before his character development and it makes more sense for him to back out in the face of real danger. But also because in terms of power level, it didn’t make sense for him to stand a chance. And also because they were making all the routes at once and designing the boss fights at equal times and this was the first chance they got to make a boss fight for Ceroba LOL. But the plan was already set by that point that it was gonna be her instead of him

• No one truly knows the origins of the super faded silhouette standing in the background of the UG Apartments shop in Geno. Apparently the dude who made the CG just. Put it there

• We got more insight into the Martlet transformation animation. It was made with SO much purpose. If you look closely, she starts to melt and the determination puddles underneath her, but then she gains control of it and the puddle ABSORBS BACK INTO HER, then shoots out in a burst when her first wing transforms. THAT’S SO COOL

• Additionally, they also canonized that Martlet took the determination before Alphys had any of the fallen-down bodies, and that she had no idea what it actually WAS, other than that it had something to do with the human SOULs. Which makes this even MORE impressive because she wasn’t intrinsically prepared to control determination, she just DID it

• The dive-bomb attack Martlet does in her first-phase Zenith fight was inspired by Dyna Blade, as a Kirby fan that fact just made me happy lol

• Retribution was the last song made for the game, and was composed in just a couple days, which is WILD to me

• We got confirmation that Flowey is still in control of saves after defeating Axis in Geno, and Clover’s text in the overworld/after dying is just them being so focused on their mission that they’re drowning out everything else

• CANNOT forget The Jincident

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ericscroptop · 2 months ago

Text

Dusk Till Dawn

✧ pairing: vampire bf! juyeon x human gf! reader

✦ genre: smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), smut, female receiving, fingering, cursing, kissing, marking, biting, pet names, power play, mentions of blood, vampire au, supernatural au

✦ word count: 2.4k words

✧ synopsis: is dating a vampire all about being loved eternally, or to be used solely as a blood bag?

˚ ཐི ⋆ ☥ ⋆ ཋྀ ˚ ˚ ཐི ⋆ ☥ ⋆ ཋྀ ˚ ˚ ཐི ⋆ ☥ ⋆ ཋྀ ˚ ˚ ཐི ⋆ ☥ ⋆ ཋྀ ˚ ˚ ཐི ⋆ ☥ ⋆ ཋྀ ˚

It was midnight.

Lights in your house were out, save for the lamp by your nightstand that brings some warm-toned illumination to your bedroom.

While the hour is late, a book sat open in your lap, cross-legged in the comfort of your bed. Tiredness hadn’t hit you just yet. Instead, you found the drive to do some light reading before slumber.

Oh how it was a struggle to find motivation to read on your own. It wasn’t until Juyeon came into your life and had inspired you with his wide range of knowledge and introspective thoughts through various texts, that he encouraged you to pick up the books more.

It was like shakespeare whenever he spoke. His vocabulary and intelligence was extensive, and he was also very philosophical. It probably helped that he’d been on earth for decades upon decades, but having the brain he possessed as a man was one in a million.

He was really into classic literature, wanting to share with you all of his favorites. One of them being the famous novella, ‘The Metamorphosis.’

Said novella is what you’re working on finishing, a book that Juyeon has read countless times that he could most likely recite the story word for word.

As you scanned the printed text on the off-white pages, you completely switched into an appropriate headspace. You picked up from where you left off last time, pondering and dissecting the themes of isolation, dehumanization, and nihilism.

As a vampire, you’d guess that Juyeon resonates with Kafka’s writing, and even as a human, you can share some empathy and relate to some aspects as well.

During this dead of night, the only sense of sound came from your breathing being flipping pages and occasionally shifting. The rainfall outside also served as a bit of a soundtrack in the midst of the silence with the pitter-patter of water droplets against the window.

It’s the type of rain that came with peace, not causing much disturbance or obnoxious noise.

At least not until a gust of wind can be heard from outside, something that sounds like leaves rustling and being carried through the air.

It tickles your ears with attention, directing your profile towards the window although it’s dark out and curtains draped over it.

You don’t fret since it’s just the weather, but you’re home alone tonight, making you extra alert towards the slightest bit of noise.

From the left side of your peripheral, you sensed some movement, maybe a bug of some sort. But when you turned to it, there’s nothing there; Your mind’s just playing tricks on you.

You resume your focus back to your book, face falling back into the pages just for a split second before double taking upwards when you felt the presence of a shadowy figure in front.

“God! Juyeon! You scared the shit of me!”

You swear your heart stopped for a couple seconds while you shrieked, heart jumping out from your chest at the jump-scare of your boyfriend’s sudden appearance, as if he came out from thin air.

Juyeon chuckles at your usage of the vulgar idiom, smile so sinister as if he’s here to prey on you. Well… who knows where the night will lead.

“You’d think you’d be used to this by now.” he says casually, pushing himself off the wall he was leaning against to walk towards you.

“Yeah, ‘cause sneaking into people’s houses randomly is sooo normal.” you rolled your eyes, voice full of sarcasm. Your expression told that you were a mixture of pissed and startled, face distressed and pulse still racing.

“I’m a vampire, darling. You know nothing is normal about me.” one of his large hands lands on the top of your head, patting it softly before thumbing at your locks.

His slender but strong frame looked down at your own through his sharp eyes. Your cheeks were flushed with hot ears from the unexpected surprise visit, but inevitably your eyes softened upon his touch, looking so small while cozied-up in bed.

“So what are you still doing up late, huh?” he points, although you two have this same conversation every time.

For Juyeon, it was witching hour; He thrived the most during nightfall, able to live freely while most humans are knocked out.

He’d visit you, sneaking into your room during the ungodly hours to check up on you. Sometimes, you’d be like how you were now, reading a book or doing some other activity until your brain checked out for the night. Other times, you actually were asleep, and he’d watch for a bit, the way your chest would rise and fall after every breath and the tired, soft moans that’d come out alongside your body snuggling deeper into the covers.

“Wasn’t tired. Almost done with this book so i’m anxious to finish it.”

“My parents are out of town y’know? You could’ve just told me you were wanting to come over.”

He smirks and tsks, lifting his hand away from your hair.

“And where’s the fun in that?”

Now that he’s here, he settles by removing his shoes and the leather jacket that didn’t serve any purpose of warmth given that he’s technically dead, it was just merely for fashion.

Underneath that leather, he wore a tight-fitted charcoal grey top that ended right where his forearm began. It emphasized his broad, strong chest and highlighted his pecs, practically bulging out from the material.

He managed to insert himself behind you, situating yourself in between his legs, your back meeting his firm chest.

Your heart beat grows stronger once he’s invited himself into your bed, holding you close. Oddly, his cold-blooded body sends warmth radiating all over you, blood vessels in your face dilating and giving your skin a rosy tint.

He reaches for your book that ended up pushed aside to hand it to you, uttering tenderly for you to continue reading peacefully in his arms.

So you comply. He sits upright against your headboard and you melted into his body, leaned back, using his chest as a headrest.

Picking up from where you left off, the smell of lignin wafts into your nostrils, musty with a hint of vanilla and nostalgia. Juyeon’s rugged hands land on your thighs, thumbs brushing over your flesh soothingly while you read.

You were simply reading, but it was everything to him. Your attention remained on the book in your hands; Glasses perched on your nose, dealing with the inconvenience of having to push them up every so often, and the tiredness you blinked away at with the more paragraphs you followed.

It was beyond domestic and cozy to be in bed like this with Juyeon. Regardless of being an undead creature of the night, he was your safe haven. Weirdly enough, his supernatural abilities and strong desire for you made you feel serene. Now that you’re resting against him, you could easily fall asleep.

Juyeon was utterly fascinated with you. He vowed to you and himself to protect you from the worst of the world, treasuring you like a prized gem.

But as much as he strives to protect you, he also is one of the dangers that poses threat to you.

There’s only one thing that drives him to sustain his existence more than you:

Blood.

Instinctively, his lips gravitate towards the pulse point on your neck. He brushes his lips with the faintest touches, then begins to kiss along your skin sensually.

A smirk stretches the lips that tease your neck as he hears you peep out a hushed moan. That encourages him to persist with his lips, cherishing your sensitive soft skin and flesh.

“Juyeon.” you warn, still gripping your book but eyes and brain unfocused once he starts to suck and pull your skin, him humming in amusement.

Subconsciously you find yourself angling your neck into his mouth, shifting and squeezing your legs together from the sensual attention.

It was so easy for you to succumb and give into his needs, especially when you were languid during these hours and like putty when in his hands.

You fall blissfully for his charisma and seductive mischief. Even when you attempt to reprimand him again for disrupting your time and allowing a hand to follow a familiar path under your bottoms, once he slips it underneath, you become distracted with the pleasure that comes with it.

“Ju— mhm.” your hips buck into his fingers when he presses your clit over your damp panties, your hand loosening on the book completely and letting it drop to the side.

The pressure applied through the thin layer has your bud swelling, chills wavering down your spine, hips and core eager for more attention.

“Like that?” he chuckles lowly, giving your clothed clit a couple more generous rubs before finally breaking the barrier to drip his fingers into your panties. He tickles your folds with the pads of his fingers, feeling your moistness through every rub.

You whimpered pathetically, head falling back into one of his shoulders, noises of desperation leaving your chapped lips.

He noses your cheeks, feeling the warmth of your blood rush to the apples of them and smiling devilishly as a result.

His lips brush your tinted skin, kissing you fondly while his fingers inch up into your hole, evidently making you cry out when they push up and against your tight walls.

Juyeon gives you what you want knowing that you’ll give something else to him in turn without hesitating, addicted to his erotic touches.

His face ends up back in the crook of your neck, inhaling sharply with a rumbly groan, still playing with your pussy lazily. His teeth nip at your neck, coloring your skin dark red even with his fangs not out yet.

“You smell so good, baby.” he’s salivating, thirst for your hemoglobin making his throat dry and feel as if it’s on fire. He swallows hard, hungry eyes reflecting a deep red shade.

The pleasing duo of fingering your hole and loving up on your neck gives you a rush, making the beating and pumping of your heart heightened.

Thump. Thump. Thump. The ringing and feeling of your heart pumping the blood was basically taunting him, calling to him.

Hunger gnaws hard at him, the monster inside of him compelled to feed on you.

“Gonna let me have a bite, angel?”

Every tender nip, kiss into your neck, and curl of digits inside your cunt drives your clarity down and urge for more high. Stupidly, you nod your head impatiently with a breathy ‘yes,’ needing that stimulating, high sensation.

“Need more than that, baby. Need to hear it.” Juyeon reminds you, tone like a command. As much as his throat and body was rippling with an animalistic appetence, it was your green light or he’d back off achingly.

“Bite me, Juyeon. I’m all yours.” your voice is breathy, choking on need and lust.

This isn’t your first rodeo. You needed him just as much as he needed you. To have your neck abused and used, submitting to him to have your blood consumed. A testament for one another’s love and bond. Or to others, just an easy snack. His favorite one.

That’s what he needed to hear. His fangs emerged from hiding, your precious heart going nuts when the bloodthirsty canines graze where he’s marked a million times, working you up while his fingers are still digging and curling deep inside your hole.

And then a loud gasp from you gets choked midway, core tightening and pulsing hard once his razor sharp, needle-like teeth pierce your neck.

You shudder with a silent cry from the initial burning sensation of his fangs before it evolves into a numbing sensation, your body going into shock and pussy bursting out cum from the harsh, delectable impact.

Your crimson liquid gets sucked into his mouth, immediately giving him fuel and eyes of the same color glowing with greed. The syrupy blood of yours is sweet and rich to the taste, so good that he growls in ecstasy.

Taking in your blood provides him with an energizing feeling that gives him life again, sucking your own life and color from your body.

Right now, he is the opposite of gentle, soft, and humane. The monster that he truly is reigns, preying on you unrelentingly. You clenched down on his fingers hard from the double pleasure that attacks you. To him, your cries were distant from how choked back they were and from his body not processing anything that isn’t the taste of your blood. You were suffocating beautifully, in a drug-like daze as he takes and takes from you.

“So fucking good. My darling little angel.” he whispers, removing his fingers to move those very digits up to your parted lips, smearing your slick and release all over them messily. All you can do is whimper and moan lowly, punch-drunk and energy out the window.

Juyeon continues to sink into your skin, sucking, swallowing, and gulping down everything he could. You were irresistible. That blood of yours travelled smoothly into his mouth, landing on his tongue and falling down his throat. It was raw and insatiably thrilling, drowning in all the thick liquid you had to offer.

Unfortunately it wasn’t long before you became loopy, body growing limp in his hold. He was nearly draining you dry, the color from your face leaving and giving you a pale look.

Even as he feasted on you with determination, he knew exactly how much he could test your limits. Juyeon needed his source of strength and toothsome thirst quencher, but he needed you alive more.

He retracts his fangs back, leaving two, reddish-brown puncture marks that ooze blood. Some of it trickles down the length of your neck, to which he cleans the trail with his tongue, as well as the wound he’s left behind.

Savoring the last few drops, you stop bleeding after his wet muscle’s saliva ceases more blood from coming out with magical properties due to his supernatural anatomy.

By the end of it, your eyes struggle to stay open. Lacking energy, your eyelids are droopy, brain and vision foggy as a good portion of your blood has been consumed and drawn out.

Juyeon allows you to rest in his arms for a moment, kissing your hair and forehead with his blotted lips stained with your blood. He pushes past the unsettling guilt he dealt with after every time he sucked at your skin, looking at your unconscious form, breaths softer now.

It was only in his nature after all.

˚ ཐི ⋆ ☥ ⋆ ཋྀ ˚ ˚ ཐི ⋆ ☥ ⋆ ཋྀ ˚ ˚ ཐི ⋆ ☥ ⋆ ཋྀ ˚ ˚ ཐི ⋆ ☥ ⋆ ཋྀ ˚ ˚ ཐི ⋆ ☥ ⋆ ཋྀ ˚

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dumpywrites · 1 year ago

Text

Tears and Poetries - Kim Namjoon / RM

Prompt: “You look familiar, like that one guy from BTS.”

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Fluff, comfort, idol Namjoon, non fan reader

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

Word count: 2.3k

a/n: Come back to me got me feeling all inspired soooo yeah :)

It was late. Frankly you did not bother to check the time but you knew it was at least way past twelve. You just needed some air. Late night polluted air might not be the right option, but it was the best you could have at the moment. Getting out was the only coping response your mind could think off. Getting out from where exactly you could not be sure.

Work life had been a real shit-show. You were on your fifth revision for your company project and your manager still would not accept your draft. While life? Life had been pretty exhausting. Recently your mother had been pestering you about wanting you to achieve more, comparing you to her friends’ sons and daughters, while also underestimating your own accomplishment.

And not even two weeks ago, a guy who you were seeing just admitted that he apparently had a girlfriend. He really just dropped that info to you like a bomb, as if you did not spend time with each other the past six months. True, you never really put a label on whatever you both had, but in your head you were single and so was he. Until he told you that he got a girlfriend and had dated her for a month already.

The wound still felt fresh especially with all the external problems added to the equation. Bearing the feeling of unwanted, unimportant, and never enough at once, was hard. Even labeling it as only hard sounded like an understatement.

So you ran. Theoretically speaking you did not run away, you just took off from your apartment randomly to wherever your feet and your worn off sneakers took you. And they took you to a random spot near a river.

You sat down on the dirty grassy ground, not minding how your shorts could get dirty from it. Just sitting down and looking at the night sky, as if the cold breeze would calm you and do anything besides giving you a possibility of catching cold.

Five, fifteen, maybe it was around half an hour you had been sitting there with empty thoughts, just letting the cold air hit your skin, when you suddenly heard a sound of a bicycle stopping and footsteps approaching.

“Hello? Are you alright there?”

The deep voice started you and made you look back in an instant. There was a tall and quite big built guy standing with his bicycle. He had a buzzcut from the very faint image you could see due to the low light.

Although skeptic, you decided to answer. “Yeah, don’t worry.”

“You sure?”

You realized how shaky and stuffy your voice sounded. It probably was not a very convincing “don’t worry”. And when you did not voice another reply, the person parked their vehicle and slowly walked towards your direction.

“Hey! Stranger danger!” You said, backing off from where you were seating.

The guy stopped in his tracks but did not walked away. “Do you mind if I join your pondering session? Who knows two great minds might think alike.”

You stayed still in your position, eyes searching for his in the very confusing lack of light. You could barely make out of what he looked like.

“I’m not a creep, I swear!” He threw his hands in the air. “There’s a police station nearby if you wanna shout as loud as you can, they could hear you from here.”

He took your silence as a green light and stepped closer until he reached a spot on your left. He cleared his throat and sat down next to you.

There you could eventually fully saw his face. The first thing you noticed was the nicely shaped nose, and his plump lips, then his dimples which showed when he politely smiled at you.

The first ten minutes was spent in complete silence. You did not expect the man to whip out a notepad and pencil and just started writing. A story? Poem? Or song? You tried your best not to sneak a look. He was even humming at some point when he wrote, and it was strangely enough, soothing.

“What are you writing?” You finally asked, the suspense was killing you.

“Thought you’d never ask.” He replied with excitement. “I’m writing a poem. Though I’m starting to think it’d sound better as a song.”

“You’re a singer or something?”

The man looked at you in disbelief for a good second before chuckling. “Sorta.”

“Am I suppose to know you?” You eyed him back with the same questioning look.

“Dunno.” He shrugged. “Maybe it’s a good thing that you don’t know for today.”

You looked at the guy suspiciously, which earned a laugh from him. “The more I think about it, I think I’ve seen your face somewhere…”

“Oh yeah?” He said, a light tone of nervousness was visible in his voice.

“You look familiar, like that one guy from BTS.”

He almost choked on nothing. “I’m sorry, what?!”

“Yeah, that one dude from BTS.” You repeated. “Although I don’t think any one from them has a buzzcut… Idols always seem to have either colorful hair or beautiful long locks.”

“Really…” The man voiced out, sounding unsure.

“Are you perhaps an indie artist? K-hiphop? Don’t tell me you are a DPR member that I somehow don’t know about or something…”

“Okay, enough about that it’s not important.” He dismissed. “You wanna take a look of what I’ve written?”

“Uh, sure…”

You leaned a bit closer to him and peeked over his notes. He took his notepad nearing it to your side so you could read better. Despite the low source of illumination, you could read the delicately written words. It was deep and meaningful. Whatever he wrote on that paper seemed a little too real to just be a song, it almost felt like it came from true experience.

“You sound like you went through hell to get to where you are right now.”

You commented, you were not aware of how reading through his words affected you until you could practically hear your heartbeat. You clutched at your chest, trying to calm it down.

“I’m not only talking about the sufferings.” He pointed out. “I also mentioned about the journeys in between.”

His expression brightened as he explained further. You found it really attractive for some reason.

“The feeling of loss, left out, were there alongside the feeling of excitement, growth, and wanting to change for the better.” He grinned. “And I think life needs that small bits of flavor to complete us as human beings… Wouldn’t have loved myself so much without all my struggles and flaws.”

You gazed at the guy in front of you in awe. “Guess you’re right.” You finally broke into a smile. “That was beautiful though, almost got me tearing up.”

“Thank you.” He grinned, showing his dimples. “What about you though? What’s on your mind?”

“It’s kinda lame…” You nervously laughed.

“I’m listening.” He scooted closer, making your knees touched.

“There are a whole list of messed up things happening in my life right now, but I guess I could name one or two…”

You took a deep breath and the guy in front of you patiently waited for you to speak.

“Basically my mom’s been yelling at me saying stuff about how unsuccessful I am for my nine to five job, while getting bullied by my manager at work, and not to mention, how I just got dumped by a guy who I was seeing for six months.”

“That’s fucked up…” He looked at you with wide eyes.

“You tell me.” You replied sassily. “I mean I guess for the most part it wasn’t really about the problem itself. I’m aware of how perfectionist my manager could be and multiple revision is expected. My mom never really feels content with anything, so that’s also expected. And that fucking guy leaving me? It was probably for the better…”

“Hey.” He grabbed your shoulder suddenly, catching you in a surprise. “Don’t downplay your feelings like that. You’re allowed to feel sad when other people treat you like utter shit. It’s valid.”

There was something about his words that triggered an emotion within you. Unknowingly, a tear escaped your eyes, followed by more next.

You leaned backwards to free from his grip, only for him to lose it but proceeded to take off his knitted sweater, revealing a black oversized t-shirt underneath. He took it off with one hand before shoving it through your head so you could wear it.

“It’s chilly. You might catch a cold.”

Hesitantly, you rolled the sweater through your body. You felt the neckline stained with tears and wondered if it was his polite way of helping you wipe your tears. You thanked him and he told you to continue.

“I don’t know what else to say, I don’t want to trauma dump on you.”

“How are you feeling though?” He asked, eyes gently looking at you.

“I just… I felt unwanted? Unimportant and undesirable? It happened all at once and it got me connecting strings. The root cause of my problem felt like it came from me as a person and I felt sick…”

He gazed at you and quietly nod, allowing you to continue.

“I came here because it was loud and deafening in here,” You tapped your head with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. “And I’m glad I did. Not only did I manage to tone it down a couple notches, I also get an exclusive song preview from a top star!”

Both of you laughed in unison. You were the first to break the eye contact due to the sudden invasion of butterflies in your stomach. It might be dark and late at night, but your eyes could not lie about the beauty of the stranger in front of you.

The silence was soon broken by a buzzing notification from his phone. It was on silent mode, but the multiple vibrations got him shuffling his hand on his pocket, fishing his phone out from his cargo pants.

“Damn, I gotta head back. Someone needs me in the studio…”

“At this hour?!” You argued immediately.

“Yeah, unfortunately.” He ran his hand through his short hair in a frustrated way.

“What’s your name?”

You both stopped and looked at each other, dumbfounded. Both of you asked the same question at the same time. Laughter filled the air once again.

“You first.” The guy gestured.

You got up and he followed right after. Now looking at how tall he was compared to you, spelling out your name felt a little bit harder. Your heart was beating in an abnormal rate. You finally managed to tell him your name and you patted yourself internally for not voicing out like a squealing hormonal teenager.

“I’m Namjoon.” He said with a huge contagious smile.

“Now where did I hear that name—“

“Can I have your number?” He interrupted. Glancing at his phone screen, a small groan escaped his lips. “It’s almost three, you have to go home.”

“Oh.” Your lips formed a small O shape. “Sure. Here, give me your phone…”

You both then exchanged phone numbers.

“I want to take you back to your home so badly but I really can’t…” Namjoon sighed. “Besides, my bicycle can only do so much…” He chuckled.

“It’s okay, I live nearby.” You smiled. “You take care, though.”

“Yeah, you too. I’ll text you?”

“Yeah.” You nodded happily. “Thank you, Namjoon.”

“Don’t mention it, I’m really glad we met today.” He nodded at you before retreating to where he parked his bicycle.

“Wait!”

You followed, running to his direction. You stopped when your arms barely linked behind him, hugging him tightly. It was bold of you but it just felt right at the moment.

“Thank you so much, I mean it.” You said with voice muffled a little by his clothes against your mouth.

And you did. You meant it, it felt really nice having someone who actually listened to your problem and seemed like he cared about it too.

He hugged back. “You’re not unwanted, okay? You are loved, please know that.”

You nodded and broke off the hug. A big smile plastered on your lips and he mimicked it. “Okay, you may go now.”

You both bid your goodbyes and that was how you found yourself smiling and giggling at three in the morning, by yourself, on your way back to your place, all while hugging the sweater that you forgot to give back. That encounter was weird, but in a very good way. It almost felt like the universe sent you an angel knowing how down you were feeling. In a peculiar way, it almost felt like he saved you. You went to sleep easily that night.

The next morning you were awaken by a text notification popping up from Namjoon. You smiled like an idiot to yourself before opening it.

“Good morning! I hope you slept well. Did you arrive safe yesterday? Sorry something came up, I wished I could stay longer.”

You quickly replied to him. “I slept good. Probably thanks to you, hehe. No problem though! Maybe we could hangout again someday? I need to return your sweater after all :)”

After typing the text and sending it, suddenly a curious thought filled your head. His name did ring an unknown bell. Namjoon did mention that he was a singer, an idol maybe? You could not be sure. You tapped your Google app on your phone and started typing his name followed by the word “singer” behind it.

Maybe this was your cue to be more aware of the Kpop industry. You had your fair share of listening to K-hiphop, and were even an avid listener of groups like Epik High and Balming Tiger.

So how come you failed to notice that last night you in fact just hugged Kim Namjoon, aka RM from the internationally well known boy group, BTS???

Thank you for reading! 🌙

a/n: this was a rather short one but i hope y'all like it nonetheless <3

Prompt request: HERE

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