#i wish i could hear the solo for the first time again

[tokiwarcube]

How They Celebrate Your Birthday

All the boys + Charles for this one!

Charles Foster Offdensen

Taking care of the boys is a full-time task, but that doesn’t mean he misses your birthday — not by a long shot. But be careful not to let your birth date slip — the guys would be all too happy to use it as an excuse to take all seven of you out to some insane party. Or you know, do, if that’s your style. A birthday is an excuse to celebrate, and there’s very little they won’t do to see Charles get sloshed — with his partner, nonetheless.

Otherwise, he really makes you feel loved throughout the day. Little notes in the morning, littered around the house — on the nightstand, the bathroom counter, by your morning mug. Among those are a request to let him know when you wake, so he can order in for you. He wishes he could stay for breakfast, truly, but he’s not going to wake you up at 4:00am on your birthday. God knows you work hard enough as is.

He checks in throughout the day, seemingly just a little more eager than usual to talk with you, and hear your voice. Call him sentimental, but he really wishes he could spend the full day with you. Alas, work calls.

Another note — Check under the sofa, be ready by 6:00. I love you, happy birthday.

He really shines when he comes home, though. A hand on the small of your back, adjusting the nonexistent imperfections in the perfectly-tailored outfit he had left for you, purely for the sake of touching, of holding. And from there, the night is yours. Dinner, dancing, a show… it’s all so cliche on paper, but he really makes you feel loved. A classical romance. He makes the cliche seem new, seem real, seem genuine.

Charles is a very, very attentive man, so it’s really no surprise when he brings out your real gift at the end of the night, and it just so happens to be the perfect thing. Although surprisingly, it’s not something you’ve ever asked for. Perhaps never even thought of, or seen — and yet, it’s so clearly tailored to your tastes. He’s good like that.

As the two of you are falling asleep towards the end of the night, he can’t help but check in — Did you have a good time tonight? As though he didn’t serve you your very own Hallmark moment. Again, he’s sweet like that.

Nathan Explosion

You know, for a man, who hates the media, he is pretty adamant on having a big party for you. Like yeah, he hates the publicity, but it’s you. And you deserve the darkest, most brutal birthday party of them all.

He knows you very well, don’t get me wrong, but he’s liable to overthink things a little. He could benefit a bit from some hints as to what exactly you’d like to do for your birthday… he’d like to avoid another Rockzo incident, if possible. But even if you do drop a few hints, he likes to surprise you with the results. You’ll have a lot of fun, but you might have a little heart attack first. He makes up for it, though.

Most of the heartfelt things are done earlier in the day, and the real party is reserved for night time. The boys already give him enough shit for how whipped he is for you, so a live performance is basically out of the question (lest the two of you be subjected to a healthy amount of ribbing from your peers), but that’s not to say he doesn’t attempt something similar. Instead, he writes, and has everyone record their parts individually — never quite saying what it’s for — and compiles it himself, solo. It’s not the usual production quality, but that’s not what you’re looking for — it’s sweet. Steeped in ichor and shadow, sure, but sweet nonetheless.

He’s usually pretty insatiable with PDA, and that doubles when drunk. But when drunk, on your birthday? You have to pry him off with a crowbar. He usually doesn’t talk actively about you in front of the cameras — God knows the media already knows way too much about the two of you — but tonight, he can’t seem to stop talking about how fucking awesome you are, and how it’s your birthday, and—

You’ll have a good time teasing him about it in the morning, once the hangover dulls.

Pickles the Drummer

Just when you think he’s partied as hard as he can, he finds a way to outdo himself. And your birthday is quite the opportunity, no?

Listen, if you want to have a nice, quiet day in, he’s happy to oblige. It’s your birthday, and he’s damn determined to make it the best one yet. And if that’s your version of a good time, he’s ready to get some takeout from that random place on the corner that you like — even though there’s a perfectly good Michelin 5-star restaurant in their house — and just hang out. Yes, really.

But if you want to get fucked up? Babe, we’re partying around the world. Fuck it, let’s go for a week! Best birthday ever, right? Whatever you say, goes.

It’s not all drugs, mind you — he’s got other things planned, too. The schedule just allows for a bit of inebriation in-between… or during. Listen, if you can deal with crowds while high, it’s real fun to go to a show or two. Everything is just so vibrant, so fluid — whether you’re up front with wide eyes or twirling in the back, Pickles makes it a very, very fun experience. And as much as he would like to get trashed beyond belief, the high tolerance does come in rather handy in moments like these — he’s happy to babysit you a bit, if it makes you feel more secure.

Surprising noone, he is a very, very good gift giver. After everything is said and done, and you’re both blinking awake the next day, that’s when he shuffles around to find the gift he set aside. He wanted to make sure it didn’t get lost in the haze, after all. Despite everything, he’s a fantastic listener, and somehow, he always seems to find that one special thing you’ve been looking for.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

Complete royalty treatment — so long as he’s there (or, perhaps more aptly, the Klokateers are), you won’t be lifting a finger. He’s such a diva about it — you thought he was bad when it came to him, but with you? Beyond words. Consequently, this also means that everybody within a 50mi radius will know that its your birthday. He’s very embarrassing about it too, with how he takes the chance to coo about it whenever he gets the chance. Very saccharine — borderline patronizing, if you didn’t know him so well to know its the opposite — with an undertone of something you just can’t place. Although despite the embarrassment, you can’t lie — it does make your heart flutter just a little bit. You can’t tell if he’s getting off on it, or if he’s just excited to have a day where you have to let yourself be pampered.

He is very adamant about getting you an actual gift — not just sex, surprising everyone — and he’s really rather thoughtful about it. He listens a bit more aptly than usual in the months leading up to your birthday, and does his best to actually keep it a secret… with varying success. But it’s the thought that counts. When morning comes, he’s already at the foot of your shared bed, gift in hand. He doesn’t like extracting himself from your hold in the morning, but today, he’ll make an exception. Hard not to, when you tiredly paw at the gift — he places a quick kiss to your forehead before the gift is fully unwrapped, just out of softness.

He’s generally up for anything you want to do, and with the seemingly unlimited funds that come with stardom, nothing really bars you from fucking around on the daily… but now, he’s especially game for whatever you want to do today. If there’s anything you’ve been begging to drag him to do, now’s the time — he’ll do it for you, with only minor complaints.

To that end, while he does have the Klokateers wait on you hand and foot, you’re in charge of where the day goes. It’s your big day after all.

But yes, the birthday sex is phenomenal. That’s a given.

Toki Wartooth

Every birthday Toki’s had since joining Dethklok has been nothing if not extravagant — he makes it a point to live every day like it’s his last day on Earth, but birthdays? Birthdays go above and beyond — no holds barred. So with his partner, the love of his life? You may as well be royalty.

Although, in typical style, Toki strikes a perfect balance between heartfelt and lavish. He’ll buy you the world if you only ask — or perhaps, even if you don’t — but interspersed are his own, handmade gifts. This year he planned a worldwide adventure, but he also slotted in your favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurants into his scheduling. His planning abilities are lackluster for the average event, but he really puts his all into it for birthdays. (Although if you walk into Charles’ office at just the right time, you do gain a little bit of insight into who did the actual “organizing” part. Toki has the ideas, and Charles organizes it into something that won’t give you whiplash.)

He’s honestly so excited for your birthday, you’d think it was his own. He lets you wake up on your own, despite his own eagerness — but he can’t help placing a kiss to your lips as you blink the sleep from your eyes. Light, still floating on the ghost of your dreams, it’s a very sweet moment. That is, until he’s tugging you upwards to go on your adventures for the day.

One tradition he is very insistent on, is birthday cake. Very adamant about having a candle for every year of life — the number candles do not count — and making a wish. He always asks what you wished for, but don’t answer — it’s a trap. He’ll actively cover your mouth if you try to tell him, scolding you — didn’t you know the wish doesn’t come true if you say what it was?

William Murderface

Birthdays fucking suck — it’s another year closer to death, and nobody will fucking leave you alone, they give you all this shit you don’t want, and—

Yeah, that’s all bullshit. He loves birthdays, he’s just… never really celebrated them in a way that’s fun to him. Growing up it was all about going to the shitty little community park in town, with the hot metal slides that always managed to burn him, and if it wasn’t that, it was going to the run-down minigolf place on the outskirts that always reeked of stagnant water and old cheese. Boring. A chore. But recently, his tune has changed a bit. I mean sure, the boys aren’t always great at showing that they care, but they certainly make birthdays fun. Worth having. So despite having very little frame of reference, he really strives to make every one of your birthdays memorable, too.

Except again, he has… no idea what to do. Sure, he knows what you like to do, but you do those things every day. And it would be weird to ask, because isn’t it supposed to be a surprise? He spends night after night, quite literally, googling ideas on what to do. Unsurprisingly, Google isn’t very helpful in this department, considering the mass amount of wealth and time William has. It’s a miracle how he hasn’t been caught in planning.

But he really does put so much thought into the celebration, and is very, very particular about getting everything just right. He really takes the “diva” crown from Skwisgaar, on this occasion. This color is not the same shade he sent them, he’s certain of it, and it will be corrected before you have the chance to see it. Wh- yes it matters, this isn’t your favorite color, the one he sent was. Jeez, some people.

You’ve always known that he loves you, but it really bleeds through in all of the little decisions he makes for your big day. He’s more inclined to go big and flashy — and if you’re the type, he really does go above and beyond — but if you’re the quieter type, he sets the atmosphere perfectly. And he might be sweating a bit beneath the collar in the latter case, but it’s the thought that counts.

[kirkybabygo]

WHY CAN’T I FORGIVE MEEE? *epic guitar solo*

[cheapshrimpysheep]

There's a Calm Surrender

SUMMARY: The Bead Brawl tournament ends and Leona and the other three run away leaving you, Grim and Jack behind. This causes Neji(Kifaji) to reprimand Leona and trigger him into taking you on a ride to confess to you.

CHARACTERS: Leona Kingscholar x Reader 🦁

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Love Confession; Kiss; Flirting

WARNING: Spoilers from Cloudcalling on the Savanna (Sunset Savanna's Tamashina-Mina) and its respective cards.

WORD COUNT: 2.200 words

COMMENTS: At first, I was going to write scenarios for all the event cards, but as Leona's was so personal, it ended up inspiring me to write a lot. So I decided to let him have his solo post. I'll still write scenarios for the others in a separate post.

By the way, I was undecided whether to use the name Neji or Kifaji, so I used both. 😅

I hope you enjoy. 😘

To escape from Cheka, Neji(Kifaji) and the palace guards who were with them, Leona rushed to the car to drive back to the hotel. Vil, Kalim and Lilia went with him. And you, Grim and Jack were left behind in the rain.

I mean, Leona wanted to escape and the car didn't have seats for everyone but... still... it made you a little sad. At least you had Jack who never left your side. Eventually, Cheka and Neji(Kifaji) reached you, after Leona and the others had already fled. Of course the first thing Neji(Kifaji) did was apologize for Leona's rudeness and offer to take you back to the hotel.

During the ride back, Cheka wanted to stay with you, especially after finding out that the name Leona used to win the tournament was yours. You were like his new favorite person. He even started calling you Unca, like he does with Leona.

There was a moment when it seemed like Neji(Kifaji) was going to correct Checka, perhaps explaining that since you're not married to his uncle, calling you “Unca” as well wouldn't be correct. But for some reason, he interrupted himself with a smile and just said amused: "Yes, they are the real Unca [Y/N]."

SUNSET SAVANNA - SUNSET VILLA

When you arrive at the hotel, you decide to take a shower to clean yourself from the rainwater. And after that, you hear two voices arguing in a nearby room. One is from Neji(Kifaji) and the other from Leona. You can't contain your curiosity and lean against the door to listen.

“The other three only went with me because they wanted to!” Leona says “I could have left alone.”

“And you, as a prince, would leave all your guests behind?” Neji(Kifaji) replies “In the middle of the rain? It would be shameful enough if it were discovered that you did it to three of them.”

“There were no more seats in the car.” Leona says in that smug tone of his. “It would be dangerous if I took more people. I took whoever I could and you took the rest. And for that I thank you. For bringing my other dear colleagues when I couldn't.”

“Hum, dear colleagues. Fu fu.” Neji’s(Kifaji) tone sounded like he was smiling in amusement. “Is that all they really are to you, prince Leona?”

“You know even the ‘dear’ part was deceiver sarcasm. And I don't like that smug on your face.”

“Oh, forgive me, Prince Leona. Far be it from me to insinuate that I know, for knowing you, what feelings you hide for them.”

“Feelings? You don't really think they're my friends, do you?”

“I wish. But I didn't mean all of them. I was referring to [Y/N].”

“And what exactly were you referring to?” Leona's voice lost its smug and sounded slightly annoyed.

“You know, Prince Cheka liked them very much. He even started calling them Unca [Y/N]. Something tells me you would like the sound of it.”

“No, I wouldn't. And it's a good thing those thoughts and assumptions of yours never leave your mouth ever again! Or be written in any way!” Leona had a growl in his voice.

“But of course, Prince Leona. I would never do such a thing.” and his tone became more serious. “You let them get closer and at the same time they are the first person you push away.”

“I didn't ask them to come. The furball insisted that he wanted to come and he is unbearable without his caretaker.”

“You are trying to deceive others by deceiving yourself.”

“Mind your own business and get out of mine!” He roars. There is silence for a few seconds.

“Very well. I will withdraw now. Forgive my intrusion, Prince Leona.”

“I will not.”

“But there is a limit to which a person can be pushed.” His footsteps and voice approach the door and the last thing you hear before leaving is the phrase: “Until they find someone who is willing  to embrace them.”

SUNSET SAVANNA - SUNSET VILLA (later)

It was night. You were only going to return to NRC the next day. You were in your room with Grim and he was already fast asleep, when someone knocks on your door. With your pajamas on, you open it.

Leona looks you up and down. “If you want to come on one last ride, get changed and head to the entrance in half an hour.” He tells you and leaves.

You did as he said and a few seconds later you hear a car approaching. Leona stops, the front passenger door right in front of you ready for you to open and step inside. There's no one else in the car other than the two of you. You can't contain a little smile.

SUNSET SAVANNA - LEONA'S CAR

You ask him where you are going.

“I don't know.” He responds, very naturally.

What did he mean he didn't know? Why did he invite you to take that ride? What was happening?

“I know you heard our conversation.” He says, without taking his eyes off the path and speaking as he normally does. “I heard your footsteps and smelled your scent.” He smirks. “What a rude guest. If he knew maybe he wouldn't praise you so much.”

You apologize.

“It's a little late for that, don't you think? You already overheard a private conversation. And between a prince and the chief chamberlain of his royal family. Few would have such insolence.” he was grinning smugly.

“And what are you going to do with me?” you ask. “For this so-called insolence.”

“I could have you arrested for espionage. I invite you, out of the kindness of my heart, to introduce you to my country and culture, for you to betray me and try to find out personal information about the royal family of Sunset Savana.” He finally looks at you, from the corner of his eyes and with a serious face. “You know I could really do that, right?”

You immediately looked worried and flinched a little.

He laughs. “I’m kidding. Don’t be frightened of each little joke. It's not like I mean any harm to you.”

“Then... what is this?” You ask.

“A night ride.” Leona answers. “Just enjoy it. Look up.”

You do it and you see a beautiful, clear, dark sky full of stars you didn't even know could be seen from earth. He was calmly driving, which made you also feel like everything was okay and that you could relax too. He ended up making his way to the arena where the Bead Brawl tournament took place. But he continued driving toward the colossal boulder that was the tournament's background.

SUNSET SAVANNA - PRIDE ROCK

He parked right at the base of the stone. He gets out of the car, knowing you would follow, and walks up to a locked steel door. He takes a key out of his pocket and opens the door. You ask if you can be there.

“I can. I have the key, don't I?” He starts to climb the stone stairs and you follow him. “Close the door, will ya?” He turns on the lights in the passage and you close the door behind you.

You go up the stairs until you reach a kind of room with a large opening, like a cave. It was blocked by a fence with a locked door, probably for the safety of visitors. You look outside and see that extensive ledge in front of you, the most striking point of that place.

“When planning began to turn this place into a tourist spot,” Leona explained “they thought about placing the fence outlining the stone, to create a landscaped balcony, I think. But the stone has an unstable shape to support a lot of weight, so they blocked the passage here. For the tourists.” He takes the keys again and opens the fence door. “You're not afraid of heights, are you?” He laughs and walks along the ledge.

You go carefully after him. He stops halfway, takes off his cloak and spreads it on the ground. And he lays down beside the cloak.

“I know I'm hot, but wouldn't you rather lie down next to me and see the stars? You can admire me all you want at school.” He was referring to the cloak, it was for you.

You lie down and look back at that wonderful starry sky. It was calming.

“Legend says that it was on this stone that the shaman presented the newborn prince or princess to the other animals.” he tells you, and points to the tip of the stone. “The shama would go there, right on the edge and lifted the cub. Like the golden statue in the city center. I wonder if any lion has ever fallen from there.” he laughs. There's a short moment of silence. “Sorry.”

“Hum? Sorry for what?” you ask

“For leaving you behind in the rain.” he explained looking at the stars. “But if you had been faster I would have brought you too.”

“You’re apologizing?”

“Why are you herbivores always surprised by that?” he sighs.

And then he rolls over and positions himself on top of you with his arms stretched out. Making you look at him with the starry sky behind him.

“And just so we're clear, I didn't want to bring you because this wasn't a vacation. I was just trying to resolve an inconvenience. I didn't want to involve you in these matters, and I just wanted to get this over with quickly.” he smirks “However, I admit it wasn't bad that I had the opportunity to show off in front of you.”

You get flattered, maybe even blush and end up looking down instinctively from his face. But when you do this, your gaze ends up stopping at his torso, with that tight top and the muscles on his abdomen exposed and flexed. And you end up looking to the side, even more flustered, and with a little smile. He interprets this as a green light.

“You heard what Neji(Kifaji) said, right?” He wasn't smiling, but his face was relaxed and he was looking at you with strangely tender eyes. “About you.‘You let them get closer and at the same time they are the first person you push away.’... And you're still here.” he sighs. “Fine, then. I surrender.”

“What do you mean?” you ask “Surrender from what?”

He bends his arms, now supporting himself on his forearms and getting closer to your face.

“From the fight. You’re too persistent. Stronger than me apparently. Always wanting to see me happy. Always present with that smile. You looked like a puppy excited to go for a walk when I let you and Grim come with us... Cute... I’ll put all my cards on the table and give you a choice. And make sure you listen to me because I won't repeat myself. I like you and I'm willing to make you mine. I will give you the choice: Look away and refuse me or kiss me and accept me.”

You take your time. You look at his lips instead of looking away.

“It's your choice, herbivore. Let me be your number one and I'll make you mine... [Y/N].”

You kiss his lips and he lets his body move closer to yours. Until you're in each other's arms. You had started cuddling each other when he tells you:

“Don't tell anyone about this yet. I don't want Neji(Kifaji) to get all cocky thinking he was right and that he had a hand in this.”

“And he didn't?”

“He doesn't need to know that. No one needs. I never thought I'd say it this way, but...” with an arm around your waist he brings you closer. “Hakuna Matata... Let's not worry about it tonight.” and he kisses you again.

You will start to feel him more relaxed, even more than usual. He has nothing left to hide anymore, no feelings to fight against. Instead, he is free to behave however he wants, to hug you, kiss you and fall asleep next to you, especially if you pet his ears. But don't worry, he'll still wake up easily if you need to escape before you two get caught there and people start asking questions.

SUNSET SAVANNA - SUNSET VILLA

The two of you return to the hotel, when you are getting close to separating to go to your rooms, you say good night to Leona and turn to go to your room. But he holds you by the waist.

“And where do you think you're going?” he asks with a smirk. “I skipped the parade, but I still want to celebrate my victory.”

“Do you mean my victory?” you say “After all, I'm pretty sure that masked mysterious warrior that appeared last minute had my name.”

He laughs. “Whoever we celebrate, I want to do it in my room. And I want you there with me.” The way you smile is enough for him to know that you want the same. He picks you up and takes you with him to the prince's bedroom.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[elliezlils11utt]

Sorority girl!reader x dealer!ellie

Summary: your crush Ellie walks in on you reapplying lipstick. Alcohol makes u a bit bold & you’ve been at a party drinking. What could go wrong?

Contents: nsfw !! Dom fem!Reader, reader is a sorority girl, marking kink kinda, oral (e receiving !)

Tw: uh weed mention, smut, reader is buzzed.

proofread?: take a guess (please hmu if you wanna proofread my fics bc I need someone to desperately 🙏🏽)

A/n: this sucks fucking ass, and probably is super inaccurate to how actual frat parters r but that’s irrelevant. PLEASE SEND ME REQUESTS.😔

Your arms were thrown up into the air, your hips swaying with the motion of the music. The room was hazy and the lights were flashing while your heart pounded with the base of the song.

One of your frat boy friends (Jesse) invited you to a party his fraternity was hosting this weekend. You and your girlfriends rolled up decked head to toe in glitter & Mini skirts.

“Her dee!” You call into the crowd, hoping your friend Dina could hear you over the loud ass speakers. She seems too busy eating jesses face off next to you. You call her name again and finally grab her attention. “I’m going to fix my makeup!” You scream over the music. Dina seems to buzzed to even understand so she just mumbled Somthing and nods before returning to suck her boyfriends face off. You roll your eyes and giggle a little. You make your way through the crowd bumping into people with sleared apologizes along the way.

You take a swig out of the red solo cup in hand before spotting a familiar face in the corner. It was Ellie. Ellie fucking Williams. Your hallway crush ever since you got into college. She was Dinas friend so you saw her around time to time, you just never got the courage to talk to her. She was the known drug dealer around campus so you curated a plan to speak to her today and maybe get her number. (If you were feeling brave) but your makeup came first. You had sweat it all off due to all the dancing and prancing around. You fumbled around the hall looking for the guest room in the overly huge frat house.

The door swings open and you stumble into the room, heading straight to the full body mirror in the corner of the room you sit directly in front of it. Crossing your legs and pulling your lipstick from inside your pocket. You smear the makeup onto your lips, touching up any spots you had missed. The door flys open again & you turn to see who it was. And lo and behold it was Ellie.

“Oh shit, uh sorry. I didn’t now you were in here” her eyes half lidded were shot red.

“It’s chill! I was actually jus about to go looking for you.”

“Oh really? What’s up?”

You stand up and make your way over to Ellie your eyes locking with hers.

“You’re cute” you mumble just a step away from her.

“Oh am I?” She teases & gets closer to you. Shutting the door behind her.

“Mhm.” You hum, an innocent smile tugging at your mouth.

“You’re not so bad yourself, sorority girl” she says, knowing damn well that you are the most gorgeous thing she’s ever laid eyes on. Her bottom lip is pulled in between her mouth. Her teeth tugging the plump skin that you wished was in your own. The tension builds when you could hear your own heartbeat in your throat. Waiting for her to make the first move.

“Fuck it” she murmured before pulling your lips onto her own. Smudging your lipstick all over her face as your so desperately assaulted her lips. Her hands cupped your cheeks, hungrily pulling you closer to you. A soft moan escapes your lips and into hers. You leave your mark down her neck, smearing your red lipstick throughout her collarbones. Your head lands right in front of her clothed cunt. That’s no good. Her jeans are pulled down to her ankles and your eyes find hers. Looking up at her with those doe eyes of yours. Those “innocent” eyes, face to face with her exposed pussy on display. That auburn bush so pretty for you. You kitten lick her pussy, finding her clit almost instantly. A little whimper escapes Ellie’s mouth. The music from the party just outside blaring through the thin walls. “Quiet baby” you coo before pushing your face into her auburn hair. Her hand finds your head when you tongue fuck into her clenching pussy. she tries to suppress her moans as your tongue works at her cunt. you watch as her head flings back, hitting the door behind her with a thud. you giggle before continuing your assault on her pretty little pussy. her hands tangle in your, once tied up, hair. she grinds against your face, completely covering ur face in her juices.

“fuckkkkk- just like that”

her breath starts to get frantic and uneven. her hand shoots up to her mouth quickly covering her moans as she screams into her palm. your arms wrap around her thighs pulling her onto u while she cums. you smirk into her pussy, drinking up her slick. you pull away, and look into her once auburn bush. um, your lipstick dyed it a deep red. actually everywhere your lips went were stained with your makeup. Ellie’s eyes flutter open, finally coming down from her high. you slide her pants back up after placing a final kiss on her clit. you rise meeting Ellie’s eyes. Her face & neck covered in marks of you. Lipstick smeared over her entire face, courtesy of u of course.

“I’d clean up before heading back out. call me.” you say with a wink before leaving her in the room alone.

A/n: this is so sloppy, I need a proofreader. ughbdjsnbdbPKEASE PLEASE PLEASE SEND ME REQUESTS, I WANNA WRITE BUT ION KNOW WHAT TO WRITEEEE. 😔🙏🏽

[helen-with-an-a]

Black Eyes

Hi. So this was a request that I got for a teen!R getting jumped by a fan and the team looking out for them. So here it is - again, I have aged R up a little bit (18/19 rather than 15/16) but I hope you enjoy it.

Barca Femeni x Reader

Description: R gets attacked on her way home and the team come to her aid.

Word Count: 1.6k

TW: Injury, violence

You hurt. That was the first thing that you noticed as you woke up. Everything ached. Your toes, your legs, your hips, your waist, your chest, your face, even your hair hurt. You knew you shouldn’t have walked through the alleyway on the way home. How many times had Lucy and Alexia drilled it into you? ‘Don’t walk where there are no streetlights’. You had initially dismissed them as the overprotective worriers that they were, but now you really wished you had listened to them.

It was a rare rainy day in Barcelona, and you were trying to rush home. You hadn’t brought an umbrella with you, because why would you? You live in warm and sunny Barcelona now, not wet and windy London. You had your doubts about going down the alley, but it would cut your walk home in half, and you were already starting to shiver.

You hadn’t seen the man hiding at the end; otherwise, you wouldn’t have gone down it. But by the time you realised someone was there, you were basically at the end, and it would’ve been more awkward to stop and turn around.

“Oops, lo siento. Gracias.” You smiled weakly as you hurried past him.

You could feel his eyes on you as you continued your walk home.

You could hear his footsteps as you picked up your pace.

You could smell the alcohol on him as he drew nearer.

You could see the large Real Madrid tattoo on his bicep.

You could taste the blood in your mouth as your head hit the ground.

You knew you should move. You needed to get up and go to training. You needed to assess the damage done to you. You needed to do a lot of things. But you just couldn’t. It hurt to blink, so the thought of the pain that would consume your body if you tried to sit up, move off the bed and walk was unfathomable.

You don’t know when you feel back asleep – somewhere in between hoping someone could take away this pain for you and trying to work out what to say to people, probably. But your phone startled you. The loud, shrill noise made you twist painfully away from the sound. You just let it ring out; whoever it was and whatever they needed from you would not be worth the pain that it would answer it. The silence was almost just as painful as the ringing – your ears buzzing in the quiet.

LUCY (5 missed calls)

ALEXIA (3 missed calls)

KEIRA (1 missed call)

The herculean effort it took to open your eyes – well, one eye; the other refused to open – was not a good sign. The buzzing started again.

JONA

“Hello?” You answered. You almost didn’t recognise your own voice for how scratchy it was.

“Hola, solo queria ver donde estabas,” Jona explained, clearly anxious over the sound of your greeting. “Son casi las 10.30 y aún no te has registrado.” You didn’t understand what was happening; your head hurt too much for Spanish.

“In English, please,” you begged. There was some shuffling on his side before a different voice answered.

“Pollito?” That bloody nickname—Lucy had christened you ‘Chick’ (short for Chicken) when you first arrived at national camp; your gangly arms and legs, too long for your body, and your timid nature suited the nickname well. And it had followed you to Barcelona. “Where are you? It’s 10.30, and you’re not here.” Ona seemed calm, if a little stressed.

“Oni?” You sounded horrific.

“Are you sick? Oh, Déu meu, you sound awful, no offence.” The stress levels in her voice sounded more intense now and did little to help the pounding in your head.

“Ow,” you croaked out.

“What? Are you ok?” You could easily imagine her face pinched with worry and concern as she tried to find someone who could help. The sound you let out did not help her calm down—you think it was supposed to be another complaint about your pain, but it was definitely an indiscernible high-pitched squeak instead.

“Vale, vale, vale. Just … just stay there, sí?” like you could move, even if you wanted to. “I’m going to get Lucy … and Keira … and Alexia,” she started listing the names of people that would be helpful in this situation. Lucy and Keira were your national teammates; you had known them for most of your professional career. You often looked to them for guidance and reassurance. Alexia was your captain; she wouldn’t take kindly to Ona leaving her out of this - she also considered you a little sister, maybe even more so than Alba. You think she ended the call, but you were slipping back into dreamland before you could be sure.

The knocking at the door was what next woke you up. It was loud and incessant. You groaned, wishing they would stop and go away. You were out of luck, however, when you heard the tell-tale signs of a key being placed in the lock and your door opening. Only one person had a key.

“Chick,” Lucy called out. You groaned even louder and pulled the blanket over your head, trying to hide yourself from the world. You hadn’t seen what you looked like, but the right side of your face hurt more than the other, as did your hands and knees, so you assumed they took the brunt of the damage.

“Chick, you in here?” Keira shouted, her voice sounding like it was coming from the kitchen.

“Pollita?” Alexia sounded closer, too close to be in any other room besides your bedroom. You moaned in response. “Ella esta aqui,” she shouted to the others, the thundering footsteps echoing painfully as they barged into your room. You felt the blanket being tugged down, and you tried to resist it, holding onto it fractionally tighter.

“Hey, no, Chick. C’mon, lemme see you,” Lucy said softly, slowly working her magic as she rubbed your shoulder, thinking you were ill and didn't want her to see you like that. You let her pull the duvet down, not liking the loud gasp she let out when she caught a look at your face.

“What happened?” she asked tightly. You mistook her firmness for anger and couldn’t help the tears as they broke free. “Hey, no, no, no. Don’t cry,” she looked like she wanted to hug you but didn’t know where or what would bring you comfort or just more pain—her arms flapped helplessly mid-air.

“¿Qué sucede? Vas a estar enferma? Necesitamos ir al hospital? Qué está pasando?” You had never heard Alexia so panicked. Keira was quiet—too quiet. She didn’t like Lucy's look of fear or the tension in her voice.

“Chick?” Lucy asked again.

“I fell,” you lied. You don’t know why you lied, but you did. You couldn’t tell her that you ignored her concerns for your safety just because of some stupid rain. You were English – you dealt with rain all the time.

“Lucía, què està passant?” Alexia marched over, gasping loudly when she saw you. “Oh, honey.” The switch was dizzying. One moment, she was angry that no one was telling her what was wrong with you, and the next, she was as soft as a feather, gently coming to kneel by the side of your bed.

“Te caíste, sí?” She didn’t believe you; no one got this amount of bruising just from a fall. And there was something about how you avoided eye contact and scratched at your nails—your go-to trait when lying. “No creo que lo hicieras, pollita. Tell me what happened.” The gentleness was unlike anything you had ever heard from Alexia—she often provided solutions, playful aggression, and (brutal) honesty. Something must have really scared her to make her behave like this. You must have really scared her.

“I—I went through the alleyway,” you said weakly. You expected her and Lucy to look at you in a disappointed way, but no such thing was shown your way—just faces full of concern and worry. “There was a guy … I don’t really know what happened.” You weren’t intentionally vague; you genuinely did not know what had happened to you.

“Ok, Chick. That was very brave of you to tell us.” Lucy rubbed a soft finger over your cheek, wiping away the tears whilst avoiding the most apparent bruising. “We’re going to help sit you up, ok? I’m on your right, and Alexia’s on your left. We’ll get you to the bathroom and we’ll have a look at you properly, ok? Keira’s in the kitchen and will get you some food and drink.” She explained what would happen before she did it, helping to guide you to sit on the toilet.

Getting up with their help wasn’t as painful as you had expected, but maybe it was because you had rested your entire body weight on them. They held a mirror up for you as you began to examine yourself. Your eye was swollen, and a deep dark bruise was beginning to appear, and your cheek had a nasty red mark on it, but the rest of your face seemed unharmed. Your hands were cut, and so were your knees. You don’t know whether it was the pain or the tiredness or the events of the last 24 hours catching up with you as you slumped forward, your brain quietening as Lucy’s soft smell encased you and Alexia’s warm Spanish flooded your senses. You could her Keira’s hushed tones as she made her way around your kitchen, clearly on the phone to someone.

“Chick, it’s okay. We’ve got you,” Lucy said, smoothing your hair down as you rested your head on her shoulder.

“Nadie te va a hacer daño, lo prometemos.” Alexia added.

And you believed them. They would definitely keep you safe.

I wasn't quite sure about the ending, but I hope you liked it <3

[ch3rrytales]

i couldn’t be more in love - steve harrington

a/n: hi! here’s a lil angsty steve one shot for y’all (unedited) this is my first time writing steve so please be gentle with me. requests are currently open. thanks for reading and as always all support and criticism is extremely appreciated! hope you enjoy, lots of love - florie <3

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve’s fears of not being good enough for you cause him to end your four year relationship and leave you heartbroken. even though he tries his best to move on and let you go, his undeniable need to protect you results with you in his bed at the end of a night out.

word count: 7.8k

warning(s): cursing, crying, drinking, mention of weed, parental pressure, throwing up, angst, mentions of insecurity about self worth, smut, no use of y/n, steve and reader are 19/20.

“Ignore it.” Robin said, pushing an overflowing red solo cup into your hand, lukewarm beer sloshing over the rim to drip down your arm. 

You shot her a glare and huffed, “I’m trying to.” 

She stepped in front of you, blocking your line of vision to who you had been staring daggers at in the corner of the room. 

Steve Harrington. Your ex-boyfriend. Your twin flame. Your soulmate. The love of your life. 

And her. His new fling. 

They had been going at it for the past 5 minutes, they hadn’t even stopped to catch their breath. 

You could remember when you and Steve were like that, attached at the hip, disgustingly affectionate. 

You weren’t even sure when you had stopped being like that. All you knew was that three weeks ago he had sat you down, taken your hands in his own, eyes glossy, and said the words you had hoped you would never have to hear from his mouth. 

“I think it’s time we go our separate ways.”

The second he said it you felt something inside of you drop, trickle all the way down to the tips of your toes and onto the floor, it’s absence leaving your whole body cold. When you and Steve started dating, a comfort that you had never been familiar with before found a home in you and put you at ease for the first time in your life. When you were with him your head and heart were so full of love that any familial or personal pressures that typically plagued you were forced out, there was no more room for them. Your parents overbearing wishes and your perpetual fear of failure were overpowered by his sheer admiration of you, it had always been said that you were destined for greatness in all your endeavors, but Steve never really wanted greatness, he only wanted you. Until he didn’t. 

Now you watched them and fought to ignore the pain stabbing into your heart. While his hands roamed over her body you thought back to a better time, a sweeter time. 

- - - 

Steve slung his arm around your shoulders as you walked past a group of football players who were passing around a poorly made bong on the front porch. They shouted various greetings to your socially esteemed boyfriend who returned their welcome with a nonchalant wave of his hand. 

You tilted your head to speak into his ear as you passed through the front door. 

“Whose house is this again?” 

“You remember Jimmy? I introduced you two at my house last week.”

“Right.” you remembered, one of Steve’s teammates from basketball. “And you’re sure it’s okay that I came, you know without an invitation?” 

Steve’s lips twisted up into a lazy smirk and he couldn’t help himself from pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek. 

“You’re my plus one, baby. Course it’s okay.” 

As you made your way through the party you tried not to feel intimidated by the amount of people flocking to your boyfriend, guys pulling him into half assed hugs, and girls pressing into him, their glossed lips wrapping around sultry hellos. 

Steve didn’t seem to pay it any mind, he kept his arm wrapped tightly around your waist ushering you through the crowd until you had reached the drink table in the center of the kitchen. He lifted you up so you sat in front of him atop the counter and shuffled his way between your thighs. 

“Whaddya drinking?” he crooned, smooth as always. 

“Dunno.” you mumbled, lost in the way his eyes burned into you. 

“You want something sweet, honey?” he teased, his hands finding a home just above your knees. 

You nodded dumbly as his fingertips traveled up and dipped just under the hem of your skirt. 

“Me too.” he agreed and laughed softly, motioning to his lips with the point of his finger. “Lay it on me.” 

You pecked him once leaving your cheeks warm and he hummed contently against you before pulling away. 

“Alright, now that we’ve got that sorted. How bout a shirley temple?” 

He started pouring soda and grenadine into a cup of ice, dumping in two shots of vodka to finish it off while you watched, your feet lazily swinging from where they hung above the ground. 

“Cherry on top?” he asked, pulling a jar of maraschino cherries from the door of the fridge. 

“Please.” you replied, sticky sweet. 

“Well fuck.” he scoffed, twisting the lid off. “I’d cut my right arm off if you asked like that, honey.” 

- - - 

You were slowly nursing your second drink of the night and had no desire for a third. In all honesty what you really wanted to do was walk home and hide in your bed but you knew that wouldn’t be happening, Robin wouldn’t allow it. 

She had practically dragged you from your tear soaked sheets and forced you into the little red skirt and matching cropped angora sweater you had bought impulsively as a post breakup gift for yourself. 

“You really need to get out.” she said while you begrudgingly swiped mascara through your lashes, just a few hours earlier. 

“I’m not ready yet, Robs.” you complained, turning in your vanity chair to face her. “What if he’s there? What if he’s with that girl?” 

“That girl” being Donna, a stunning hair stylist who worked at the salon across from Family Video. Robin had been keeping you filled in on their budding romance since it began, how she had come in one Tuesday and slid a gum wrapper scribbled with her number across the counter with her perfectly polished nails while Steve was helping her checkout. He had taken her out that weekend and they had been seeing each other casually since. 

Robin threw a fashion magazine she was flipping through on your bed to the floor, “Who cares? You know I love you and I wouldn’t want to say anything to upset you while you’re-” she paused to grimace at the pile of soggy tissues covering your nightstand. “...fragile. But, obviously he’s moved on and it’s killing me to see you still stuck on him when you’re so clearly out of his league.” 

You stared at her blankly, “I’m out of his league?” 

“Duh! This is Steve Harrington we’re talking about, I once watched him have a 20 minute “lightsaber duel” with Henderson using a mop.” 

You scrunched your nose trying to hide the fact that you found that incredibly endearing and not at all dorky before you responded, “Yet he’s the one who dumped me.” 

She sighed in full dramatics flinging her head off the end of your bed so she was staring at you upside down, “Exactly! What kind of a dingus would do that?” 

You frowned at yourself in the mirror before powdering your nose for the third time, “Someone who’s moving on to better things.” 

“I call bullshit.” she declared. “How does it get better than you? Once you get yourself all pretty and a couple of drinks in your system you’ll forget who Steve Harrington even is.” 

“Doubtful.” you retorted. 

Robin came behind you, her expression pitiful as it reflected in your mirror. “But, would it kill you to try?” she asked hopefully. 

You shrugged and swiped a cherry scented gloss across your lips, “It might.” you said honestly. “But, I guess I’ve got nothing left to lose.” 

Robin beamed at you through the mirror and smacked a kiss to the top of your head before practically skipping to the other side of your bedroom. 

“Well, then hurry.” she said, pulling her pin-covered denim jacket over her shoulders. “We leave in 10.” 

Now that you were at the party, staring at the person you loved more than anything in the world with his tongue down another girl's throat, you realized you did have something to lose, the contents of your stomach. 

You turned to Robin, who was beside you eyeing a girl who had come into Family Video last week in search of any Molly Ringwald movie she could get her hands on. 

“I think I’m gonna yack.” you whispered. 

“What?” she questioned. “You’ve hardly had anything to drink.” 

“It’s not the alcohol making me queasy.” you replied, gesturing to Steve and Donna pressed against the wall opposite to you. 

“I thought I told you to ignore him?” she said, still slightly distracted.

“Easier said than done.” 

She took a moment to look at you, her best friend. It honestly hurt her to see you so down on yourself. All she wanted was for you to have a good time after weeks of sobbing in her arms and isolating yourself in your room. She looked around the room until her gaze fell upon a beefy blonde eyeing you from the beer pong table. 

“You wanna play a game of pong?” she said, gesturing to the table. 

“Not really.” you replied, your eyes unmoving from Steve’s back. 

“Too bad.” she decided, tugging you behind her. 

“Robinnn” you complained, following her. 

When the two of you reached the table the blonde in question sauntered over to you, drinking you in with his stare. 

“You girls up for a game?” he shouted over the music. 

You shook your head timidly while Robin replied, “Absolutely.” 

The boy pulled you into his side with an arm around your back and spoke into your ear, “You’re on my team, babe.” 

You looked helplessly to Robin who only nodded and mouthed to you, “Go for it.” 

“You got a partner?” he asked her. She looked around and shrugged. 

You turned your focus to reorganizing the scattered cups on the table into a pyramid, your head shooting up when your new partner’s voice cut through the room. 

“Harrington!” he called. “Come play, we need another person.” 

Robin’s eyes widened as she tried to assess what the quickest escape for you would be. 

But Steve was faster, approaching the table with Donna under his arm still unaware of your presence. 

He saw Robin first, her face red and eyes locked on yours. Then he focused his attention on the man beside you who once again pulled you close and then spoke, “It’s you and her against me and this pretty thing.” 

Then Steve saw you, your cheek mushed against the blonde douche’s shoulder, bottom lip wobbling as you suffocated in the unexpected eye contact. 

Donna leaned in and whispered something in his ear that made his jaw clench and he shooed her back gently with the wave of his hand. 

“Sorry, bud.” he said, eyes unmoving from yours. “Not interested.” 

As quickly as he was there he was gone.

You were seconds away from crumpling to the ground when Robin pulled you from the man’s arms. 

“Fuck,” she said, her hands on your shoulders. “I’m sorry, I had no idea he was coming over here.” 

You shook your head, dismissing her apologies. “It’s not your fault, I just-” your voice cracked and you looked at her wordlessly. “He didn’t even acknowledge me.” 

She frowned and pulled you into a hug, “He’s a massive idiot.” 

“Are we still playing?” The blonde asked, dumbfounded. 

“Sorry, but fuck off.” Robin replied, before walking towards the kitchen, arms still wrapped around you. “We’re taking shots. Lots of them.” 

“I’m not in the mood.” 

Robin pulled a bottle of vodka from the many assorted liquors lined up on the table in front of you. 

“Y’know how they say the best way to get over someone is to get under them?” she asked, already pouring the shots. 

You nodded weakly. 

She shoved the tiny glass into your hand, “That’s a lie.” she declared. “The best way to get over someone is to get absolutely shit faced.” 

You recalled Steve’s expression when he saw you, it was cold, not exactly unbothered but withdrawn. You recalled her hands on him, her lips brushing the shell of his ear, and her words affecting him. 

You slung the glass back, the liquid bringing a welcome burn to the back of your throat. Then you took another. Then another. Then another. 

Within the hour you were somewhat distracted from your heartache. You and Robin were squished together on a couch with Nancy and Jonathan, all giggling drunkenly in response to the story Jonathan was sharing of an encounter he had with an inebriated pizza delivery boy the week prior. 

You had lost count of your drinks and your head was feeling increasingly heavy to hold up, making your neck ache. You didn’t really mind the pain, in fact you welcomed it, this pain was much easier to manage then the dull throbbing kind that had been tormenting your heart. Your head fell back against the cushion behind you and you felt as if the world was spinning off its axis beneath you. Your elbow dug into Robin’s side making her groan in annoyance. The lights in the room started to overwhelm you and a wave of nausea washed over you. 

“Robin,” you mumbled, eyes squeezing shut. 

“Hm?” she hummed in response, her head lolling to the side. 

“M’gonna be sick.” 

“Now?” 

You swallowed thickly and shakily rose to your feet. “Right now.” you confirmed. You started pushing past people in pursuit of the bathroom, you could hear Robin behind you faintly. 

“Coming,” she said. “Slow down, I'm right behind you.” 

You ran up the stairs, as fast as you could in your current state, hands clawing the railing for balance. You stumbled through the hallway, checking behind you when you had reached what you hoped to be the bathroom door only to realize you had lost Robin along the way. 

Your clammy hands turned around the knob and your body fell limp against the door as it swung open, fluorescent light invading your eyes. You dropped to your knees and shoved the door shut behind you, too nauseous to attempt locking it. Your hands shook as they gripped the toilet pushing up the seat before heaving roughly into the bowl. 

Your eyes squinted shut as your head pounded, the music playing from downstairs was slightly shaking the foundation of the house and you were suddenly longing to be carried away and tucked into your bed. 

You thought of Steve, not whoever it was you encountered downstairs. But your Steve, the one who would give you piggyback rides from the bar to where his car was parked blocks away when your feet hurt. The one who sat criss-cross applesauce on Nancy Wheeler’s bathroom floor with you in his lap, peppering your shoulders with kisses when you got too drunk last New Year’s Eve. 

You brought the back of your hand to your mouth wiping roughly, your cheeks were wet with tears. You must’ve been sitting there for at least fifteen minutes, thoughts lingering on the past. When had you even started crying? You tore at the toilet paper roll beside you and balled up a sizable portion, you wiped at your eyes furiously, disregarding the mascara that was surely staining your face. 

What a mess. 

You shuddered at the thought of Steve seeing you like this, messy and broken and crumpled on the floor. You wondered what he would think, if he would feel sorry or just sorry for you. 

As if the universe were playing some sort of cruel joke on you, while the thought floated around your head you heard the door unlatch and when you reluctantly followed the sound you saw him standing above you like some sort of awful miracle. 

He looked shocked first, not expecting anyone to be in the room, but then the guilt washed over his face and you knew he had realized what he really walked into. 

“Fuck, hon-.” he stuttered, his hands reaching out instinctively. 

The half murmured term of endearment felt like a punch in the gut and you physically winced as he approached you. 

His eyes filled with hurt at the way you reacted to his entrance, he used to scoop you up in his arms and quiet any of your pain with nothing but his presence and whispered words of comfort. 

“Go,” you pleaded, your voice scratchy and raw. 

“I can’t just leave you lik-” he sighed, and looked at you helplessly, as if saying what do you expect me to do. As if leaving you heartbroken and soiled on the bathroom tiles would be physically impossible for him, like he wasn’t the reason behind it. 

“Are you okay?” 

You sniffled and stared at the floor, “Please go.” 

Steve squatted beside you and hesitantly reached out. He swallowed hard when you flinched under his touch as he pushed the hair out of your eyes, ensuring it was only mascara marring your pretty face and you weren’t physically harmed. 

You refused to meet his eyes and when he tried to pull you off the ground, tugging gently on your hands, you shook your head.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you protested.

“Taking you home, c’mon.” 

“No,” you argued. “Why would I do that? No, I’m- I’m here with Robin, she’s-” 

“She’s passed out downstairs,” he interrupted. “You need to go home.” 

“You’re drunk. I’m not-” 

“I’m stone cold sober.” he informed, bringing his finger to his nose and then extending out as if he were doing a field test. 

You finally locked eyes with him, and the unshed tears that sat brimming on your waterline seemed to drown him. 

“I can’t, Steve.” you cried. “I can’t be in a car with you and…her.” 

His shoulders fell a little and his expression softened ten fold. 

“She’s not- I wouldn’t put you through that.” he said, as if it were obvious. “That’s why I’m not drinking,” he explained. “I already took her home, she’s babysitting her little brother tomorrow morning. She couldn’t stay late.”

You scoffed wetly, “How responsible of her.” 

“Be nice.” he warned and you wanted to punch his perfect face. 

“I’m not nice.” you slurred, under your breath. 

“Bullshit,” he replied. “If someone hit you with their car you’d be the one to apologize.” 

“Not anymore.” 

“Don’t buy it.” he dismissed “Can you walk?” 

“M’fine.” you clipped, rising to your feet while trying to ignore the feeling of the ground swaying under your feet and the pit of nausea still living in your stomach. “Gonna walk home.” you decided, pushing past him to get out of the tiny restroom. 

He caught your forearm in the hallway, steadying your wobbly walk. “Yeah right. I’m taking you home. C’mon, I’m parked out front.” 

You tried to tear yourself out of his grip, blaming the fluttery feeling in your stomach on your overindulgence. 

“I don’t want your help. Okay?” you barked. 

He ran his free hand through his hair and sighed, discouraged. “Look, I know you must hate me right now and I understand…” he paused and his expression remorseful. For a second you caught a glimpse of the man you loved, the man you still love. “Three weeks doesn’t erase four years. Please, let me take you home.”

Your will to fight him dwindled fast and you had to actively restrain yourself from embracing him and burying your face in his chest. 

“Robin-” you started. “I can’t just leave her here.” 

“I know.” He smiled sadly, still in complete awe of the way you cared for those lucky enough to be loved by you. “Go wait by the door, I’ll make sure she has a way home.” 

“Thank you.” you mumbled. 

“Of course.” He said, the second half of the sentence dying on his tongue. Anything for you. 

You slowly made your way to the door and leaned against the wall, forcing air into your nose and out of your mouth in heavy puffs. You could feel your nerves buzzing beneath your skin at the prospect of being in a confined space with the person who dizzied you most in the world. 

When Steve returned your eyes had drifted shut and your hands rested on your temples. 

“Nancy and Jonathan are gonna give her a ride, they’re leaving in about an hour.” he informed. “You okay?” 

You nodded slowly in response, “Thanks again.” 

He hummed and opened the door for you, his hand instinctively finding its way to rest on your lower back and guide you out of the house. 

When you got to his car he opened the passenger door, helping you in and leaning across you before you had a chance to shut it to secure your seat belt into place. Your whole body tensed when his fingers brushed against your hip and he muttered an apology. 

He joined you in the car and switched on the radio before pulling away from the party in the direction of your house. Neither of you spoke as you exited the neighborhood so you laid your head against the window and watched the trees under the dim street lights as you passed by. 

He turned a corner and you pressed your fingers into the leather seat beneath you to fight the unrest in your stomach that arose from the car’s motion. 

“So, why’d you come back?” you asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Y’know after you dropped her off.” 

Steve’s fingers tightened around the wheel and his eyes flicked to the side to see you looking at him timidly. 

“I said I’d help clean after.” he lied, swallowing the truth with a forced gulp. 

He couldn’t tell you the real reason behind his return, that he had been in agony imagining you at the party saddled up with some former jock, no one there to supervise your open drinks, or to ensure you had a safe way to get home. 

“And now you’re driving me home.” 

He realized leaving again before the party was over contradicted his lie and cleared his throat. 

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

You felt the sadness that had been lingering in you all night slowly turn to anger. 

“Of course I’m not.” you clipped, facing out the window again. 

“Sorry,” he said. “That was probably a stupid thing to say considering…” he trailed off, biting his lip so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if he were to draw blood. 

“Considering you dumped me and got a new girlfriend within a few weeks?” 

“She’s not my girlfriend.” His heart hurt at the idea that anyone but you could hold that title. 

He turned into your neighborhood and you had never been more thankful to see your house in the distance, that is until you realized all the lights were still on. Your parents were still up. Fuck. 

To anyone else this may not have been a big deal, you were legally an adult but that never seemed to matter to your parents who were as strict as nuns when it came to drinking. 

Steve seemed to notice the lights as well because his car came to a stop a few meters before your driveway. 

“Well shit.” he remarked

“I can’t go in.” you said. You knew you must’ve looked quite disheveled, most likely smelled of alcohol and while you felt much more sober since emptying your stomach you knew there would still be a sway in your walk and a slight slur to your voice. 

“You can stay at mine tonight,” he offered. 

You laughed in amusement and anger. “I don’t think so. I can go to Robin’s.” 

“She’s staying at Nancy and Jonathan’s and they won’t even be there for another 45 minutes at least. You can sleep in the guest room.” 

He put the car in drive again and started towards his place before you could argue anymore. 

The rest of the ride was spent in silence, nothing but the quiet hum of the radio and the drum of Steve’s fingers on the steering wheel. When he pulled into his garage you got out before he had the chance to do anything annoying and chivalrous like open your door or help you exit the vehicle. 

You stepped inside the house that may as well have been haunted, every nook and cranny linked to some fond memory you shared with your ex boyfriend. The kitchen where he had miserably failed at cooking you an anniversary dinner, the shower where he carded his fingers through your sud soaked hair, the bed where you had lost your virginity and he held you in his arms till the morning came. Every part of this house was woven into your love story and you felt suffocated within its walls. 

He threw his keys onto the kitchen table and kicked his shoes into the corner as you stood frozen in front of him taking in your surroundings as if for the last time. 

“You can shower if you want,” he offered. “There’s some towels in the guest bathroom.” 

“Okay.” you replied coolly. 

“Just stay there a sec, I’ll go grab you some clothes.” 

Your eyes were glued to a slightly faded polaroid of the two of you stuck to the fridge with a Hawkins High Basketball magnet. The fridge was barren otherwise, Steve’s parents not the type to decorate with school pictures or family memorabilia. The photo had been taken the night Steve told you he loved you and the night you returned the sentiment. In the picture your cheeks were pressed together, spread taut with matching smiles. You had been so happy that night, quite opposite to how you were feeling now. 

Steve startled you from your thoughts with a gentle hand on your shoulder, he followed your line of sight to the photo and spoke, “One of my favorites. You looked breathtak-”

“Steve,” you cut off coarsely. “Just stop it.” 

“Sorry, I just…it doesn’t matter. Here,” he said, handing you a stack of folded clothes that you recognized as your own. “I didn’t think you’d wanna wear anything of mine and I remembered I had these in the back of my dresser.” 

You accepted them with no word of thanks and tried to convince yourself that he was right, that you hadn’t wanted him to hand you a pair of boxers and one of his sweaters still lingering with his cologne. 

Once you reached the bathroom you stripped yourself of your uncomfortable party attire and turned on the hot water. You stood under the sweltering stream and welcomed the burn, letting all the rage you felt for Steve bubble up and swarm your head for the entire duration of your shower. 

When you finished you hastily pulled on your clothes, your skin was now scorched and your anger hot and irrational. You stormed towards his room and swung the door open with not so much as a knock. There he sat in the dark, only the moon providing any illumination. His body stretched across his bed on top of the covers, head tilted to the ceiling with nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants resting lowly on his hips. 

“I hope you know,” you started, startling him with a finger pointed lethally in his direction. “I’m not going to go around thinking you’re some great guy just because you took pity and helped me tonight.” 

Steve could only flick his eyes in your direction briefly, too emotionally exhausted from the night to even sit up. “That’s not why I did it.” 

“Oh, of course not.” your voice dripped with sarcasm.”King Steve is just such a gentleman he couldn’t have it any other way. Don’t act like tonight was motivated by anything other than guilt.” 

“Do you actually believe that?” 

“You brought that beautiful girl and you just carried on with her like I wasn’t even there. Then when it broke me you just had to come along and pick up the pieces.” 

“I’m tired.” he muttered, your name following the statement almost inaudibly. He was tired of fighting with you, tired of seeing the way your eyes burnt into him no longer with lust but something even stronger, hurt. 

“You don’t think I’m tired? You don’t think I wouldn’t give anything to close my eyes and not see her hands all over you?” 

“Fine, I regret it. I should’ve thrown away her number the second she gave it to me. I should’ve never brought her to the party. Is that what you want to hear?

“No!” you cried. “It’s you who shouldn’t have come to the party and you shouldn’t have come back after you left. You could’ve just let me have this one night, I needed it.” 

“I don’t regret that. I had to go to the party, you know that.” 

“I don’t see what that has to do with me.” 

His eyes softened, “It has everything to do with you.” 

Suddenly you saw the events of the night under a completely different lens.

- - - 

Then Steve saw you, your cheek mushed against the blonde douche’s shoulder, bottom lip wobbling as you suffocated in the unexpected eye contact. 

Donna leaned in and whispered something in his ear that made his jaw clench and he shooed her back gently with the wave of his hand. 

“Sorry, bud.” he said, eyes unmoving from yours. “Not interested.” 

“Looks like she moved on after all.” Donna had purred in his ear. 

He looked at you cozied up to someone new and saw nothing but red. He had to get out of there fast. 

 “Why would I do that? No, I’m- I’m here with Robin, she’s-” 

“She’s passed out downstairs,” he interrupted. “You need to go home.” 

He searched the party desperately, only able to catch his breath when he saw Robin laid across the couch, mouth hung open, Nancy and Jonathan not far by. He forced through the crowd till he reached her and felt his heart rate skyrocket when you were nowhere to be seen. He shook her shoulder till she roused enough to open her eyes a sliver. 

“Where is she?” he asked, voice urgent. “Where, Robin? Is she okay?” 

Robin grumbled and rolled over but not before muttering two words, “Sick. Upstairs.” 

“So, why’d you come back?” you asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Y’know after you dropped her off.” 

“I said I’d help clean after.” he lied, swallowing the truth with a forced gulp. 

“And now you’re driving me home.” 

He had never once stayed after a party to clean, not even for his closest friends, and certainly not for some former football player he had interacted with maybe 4 times in his life who still found spitballs to be the height of comedy at the ripe age of 21. 

- - - 

“You were looking for me.” you realized. 

Steve met your eyes and exhaled heavily, “Aren’t I always?” 

You held eye contact and despite the dimness of the room he could see your chest heaving up and down with troubled breaths. You turned to leave and Steve fell back against his pillows, scrubbing his hand roughly against his face. 

Just as you were about to cross the threshold into the hallway you spun on your heel and faced him again. 

“Steve, I-I’m sorry okay? I don’t know why I can’t be civil with you. I feel like my whole life has been flipped upside down over the past few weeks. And I know I can’t blame you for falling out of love with me… I just can’t- I’m not ready to see you fully over us-” your voice cracked painfully in the back of your throat. 

“Baby…” he sighed sadly, sitting up in his bed. 

You felt tears spring to your eyes, bringing your hands to your face and then dropping them shakily. “I’m sorry.” 

He looked at you sorrowfully as your body finally gave out, succumbing to the tears. Before you could stop yourself your legs carried you towards his bed, falling forward on top of him and wrapping yourself around his body. 

“Please- I just, I need to-” 

You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence but Steve always had a knack for reading your mind and he knew exactly what you meant. You needed to feel him, to hold him again, breathe in his scent, run your fingertips over his skin. He knew because the feeling was all too familiar, he felt it before he shut his eyes every night, before the sun rose through his curtains in the morning, and every moment in between. 

Wordlessly he closed his arms around you and your nose pressed into his bare collarbone. His hands traveled up, threading into your hair, cradling your head against him.

“Breathe,” he cooed. With his chin tucked into your neck you could feel the wet lick of his lips when he spoke. 

“I’m not fully over us,” he admitted. “Not even close.” He laughed, humorlessly, nudging his nose under your ear, “You’re honestly doing my head in.” 

You let your eyes fall shut, wanting to take in every bit of this moment, unsure if you would ever experience anything like it again. 

“I really miss you.” you whispered into the diminutive space between you. 

A pained noise slipped out from Steve at your confession. He wished you could see the bigger picture he had sketched up in his mind, how in a few years he would be a blip in your memory, a single dim star amongst the blinding constellation of your future accomplishments. 

Steve may have been considered slightly ditzy around town but he had never been stupid, he knew you were too good for him, he always knew. From that very first kiss in his BMW four years ago when the two of you were only 16 he knew that the way you felt for him would be temporary. The admiration in your eyes would fade and the curtain would fall. He wasn’t King Steve like he had been in high school, he was just Steve, plain unpromising Steve. 

You had always been gifted, you were going places, you had aspirations. The only aspirations Steve could ever remember having were in regards to you, taking care of you, loving you, putting a ring on your finger, making you his wife, and eventually building a family with you. A loving happy family, nothing like the kind he had grown up with.  

He wanted the best for you, and as much as it fucking devastated him he wasn’t sure that meant him anymore. 

But his resolve was growing thinner, wearing down with each exhale that passed your lips to tickle his skin.  

“I miss you too, honey. So much.”

“But, Donna-” 

“Isn’t looking for anything serious.” he finished for you. “She’s good company but she's not you. No one is.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“I can’t explain it.” 

“Why not?” you pleaded against him. 

“It’s better this way. I promise, it will be.” 

You nuzzled further into him, “How?” Your lips ghosted his clavicles and he trembled. “How could it be better than this?” 

His leg slotted between your thighs, pressing you into him. You jumped at the feeling, a symphonic sigh exiting you against your will. 

“Shit- sorry.”

You panted and shook your head. “No, don’t be. It’s good.” 

He readjusted in an attempt to put some space between you, feeling himself getting sucked into your hazy arousal rapidly. You felt the familiar outline of his excitement against the side of your legs and he hissed. 

“This would be real fuckin’ selfish of me.” he struggled to say while you chased his lips, yours already pouted in anticipation. He caught your face and held it in place in front of his own, searching for any lingering signs of intoxication, “You’ll never forgive me tomorrow.” 

“I’m fine,” you said honestly. The shower and time passed had sobered you up fine. 

“Doesn’t matter. You’ll hate me for leading you on.” 

“Are you?” 

Steve pondered your question and tried not to let his face show how unsure he was of the answer. Could he really stay away from you? Would either of you ever be able to fully move on from your paramount love? 

You read him like a book and grazed his chest with the tips of your fingers, bringing him back to you. 

“Even if you are, I couldn’t hate you.” 

He swiped his thumb across your eyebrow and watched your eyelids flutter in response. “I hate myself for hurting you.” 

You leaned forward until your noses bumped and spoke into his mouth, “Then make up for it.” 

Finally, Steve closed the space between you with a hungry kiss. His lips were warm and chapped against yours, his teeth scraping against the suppleness of your bottom one to pull your mouth open and allow him to show you just how sorry he was. 

For the first time in weeks you felt your lungs fill with no resistance and strain against your ribcage with a welcome sort of discomfort, like an overfilled balloon you were seconds away from popping and Steve knew it. 

His hips rutted against yours and one of his hands slowly traveled down from the velvet of your cheek to palm roughly at your breast. The feeling made your breath catch in your throat, coaxing a high pitched squeak out of you and Steve smiled against your lips, his teeth knocking yours. 

“Feels good?” he asked. 

“Mhm.” you hummed as he turned his attention to your neck, nipping and kissing the dewy surface. “Always does. You always do.” 

His responsive whimper is slightly muffled by your skin but you bathe in it. 

“You too.” he reciprocated. “I won’t last long if you keep talking like that, you’ll knock my fucking lights out.” 

“Sorry,” you said sweetly, leaving him bewildered at how you could be so sensual and so adorable at the same time. 

You sat up, straddling him. Your hands traveled south to breach the barrier of his waistband and wrap your hand around him. 

He sucked in a pained breath and tugged the shirt barring his view over your head. “M’hurtin, honey. Lemme feel you.” he pleaded. 

You pulled the shorts you wore down your legs leaving you bare and Steve took in the sight as if for the first time. 

His hands caressed your stomach, sliding downwards until they rested firmly on your hips which twitched in anticipation. 

“Somehow I forgot how perfect you are.” he revealed, his words drenched in sincerity. “No one is this perfect,” he pinched your heated skin once and you whined. “You’re a fucking novelty.” 

You stared down at him and wondered if he had ever really looked at himself in the mirror. You scraped your nails lightly down his chest, “You are.” 

He coughed and denied it with the shake of his head, bringing one of your hands to his lips for a loving kiss. “I’m nothing compared to you, baby.” 

Desperate to get on with it you raised yourself above him hovering whilst lining him up to you. Steve watched your face as you nudged his tip against your clit, your eyebrows pulled together and mouth falling into a gaping “O” shape. 

You shimmied forward a little bit and slowly started to sink onto him, pausing as soon as the tip was in. You winced at the stretch and were reminded that it had been a while since you had taken him at all, let alone like this. 

“You okay?” he asked, holding you firmly in place to be sure you didn’t slip any further before you were ready. 

You nodded, but stayed still. “Hurts a lil s’all.” 

Steve kicked himself when he realized he had done nothing to get you ready for him. “I’m sorry, honey. I should’ve prepped you a bit. Hop off a sec.” 

“No,” you protested, letting yourself drop another inch or so. “I didn’t want you to. I jus’ want you inside.” you whined as you sunk all the way down, ignoring the burn in your stomach. 

Steve cursed to the ceiling as you fluttered around him and he forced himself not to lift his hips and grind even further into you. 

He clenched his teeth as he spoke, “Is it painful?” 

“It’s perfect.” you answered in more of a sigh than anything else. 

“Yeah?” he said, reaching forward to circle your clit with the gentle movement of his thumb. 

When you moaned and rolled your hips forward he praised you in a rambled jumble of words.

“Fuck. Holy fuck, baby. You're so good, so so good for me. Shit. Warm and fucking tight. God, am I making you feel good? C’mon talk to me, lemme hear that pretty voice.” 

You nodded, brain fading into a lust filled frenzy. “Feels unreal, Stevie.” 

You tried to raise yourself with shaky legs but he stopped you with a firm grasp. 

“Wha-” 

“You think I’m gonna let you do any of the work tonight? It’s not happening, baby. I’m making it up to you, remember? Lemme make you feel good, hm?” 

He lifted you with hardly any effort and then pulled you down again, the drag of him against your walls pulling a series of sweet moans from you. 

Repeatedly, he bounced you against him, encouraging you with candied praises every time your face pinched in pleasure or you clenched around him, dizzying his head. 

After a few blissful moments you felt a wave of pleasure rush to you like the tide to a shore and you panted out a warning. 

“Stevie- I’m gonna,” 

“You gonna cum for me, honey? C’mon give it to me. I’m right there with you, sweet girl.” 

You shook and cried out as your release drowned you, sweeping Steve into the current right alongside you. 

You collapsed forward in exhaustion and he held you against his sweat slick body, peppering gentle kisses across your forehead. 

“You here w’me?” he whispered. 

“Yes.” you replied, voice light. You pulled yourself off of him and tried not to think about the loss, tried not to think about what would happen now. 

Rolling over next to him you shivered at the cold air on your bare skin and he wordlessly tucked you under his arm and rubbed his hands up and down on your arm, sparking a friction fueled warmth. 

He watched you carefully unable to decipher the thoughts behind your head for what seemed like the first time ever. 

“What’re you thinking about?” 

You swallowed and tilted your head up to look at him. “What happens next.” you admitted. 

He nodded in understanding. “What do you want to happen?” 

“Steve.” you chided. “You know what I want.” 

“Honey…” 

“Do you love me?” 

“Of course I do.” he said shocked. 

“Then what’s exactly the issue with us being together?” 

“It’s complicated. It’s not about me not loving you or not wanting to be with you.” 

“Then what is it?” you demanded, sitting up and pulling your previously discarded shirt over your head. 

He ran his hands through his sweat damp hair in exasperation. “We don’t make sense anymore,” he admitted. 

You bit your lip to hide your hurt and spoke timidly, “Why not?” 

“Our lives are gonna go down really different paths and I don’t want to be the douchebag high school sweetheart that holds you back from everything you’re capable of. I’m gonna end up here, working some mundane job, having a few kids and accomplishing nothing special. And that’s fine, I’m content with that but that’s not you. 

You frowned at him. 

“You’re meant for something bigger. Everyone knows it. I won’t give you some simple life when you deserve a grand one.” 

You felt white hot anger seeping through your skin and pushed yourself off the bed bitterly. Without saying a word in response you started searching the room for your shorts, feet stomping with every step. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, anxiety clear in his voice. 

“I’m leaving.” you said. 

“It’s the middle of the night.” 

“I don’t care.” you hissed. “You really think you’re helping me by making decisions for me? Do I not get any say in what I want?” 

“Of course you do, that’s what this is about. One day you’re gonna want more than I can offer you. I'm just trying to make it easier for you.” 

“Wow,” you breathed. “You really have no idea what I want then.” 

“So tell me.” 

“Steve.” you said, shimmying your shorts back up your legs. “I want you. No ifs ands or buts. Have I not made that crystal clear the entire time we’ve been together?” 

“You have but-” 

“No, I’m not done. You’re right, I don’t want a simple life. I want to settle down here, in the town we fell in love. I want to marry you and have kids with you. I want to make dinner with you every night and after we eat I want to wash the dishes while you dry. I want to take your clothes out of the dryer and fold them while they’re still warm. I want to kiss you every night before I go to bed and roll over next to you every morning. I want us. A life where we end up together couldn’t be simple because it’s us together, and I love you so much more than any other possible outcome.” 

He stared at you bewildered. “You do?” 

“Yes! I’ve been in absolute hell these last few weeks over this?” 

You approached him and took his hands in yours. 

“Look,” you sighed. “I’m so sorry that people in your life have made you believe that you aren’t the talented, smart, capable and loving man that I know you are but none of them matter when it comes to our relationship. That’s just us, me and you. And I know,” you pressed a hand to your heart. “There’s no one in the world who could give me a better life, or love me better than you. I love you, Steve.” 

He looked up at you, half sorrowfully half hopefully, “Does this mean we’re back together?” 

“Do you want to be?” 

“Of course I do. I’ve been miserable without you.” he replied. 

“And who’s fault is that?” you laughed, the mood in the room beginning to mellow out into the typically comforting setting you were accustomed to when you were with Steve. 

“I’m sorry I ended us and that I tried to make your choices for you.” he said. “I promise I won’t do it again. Oh, and I love you, like more than anything else in the world and I’m fucking devastated that I made you think I didn’t.” 

“I love you too.” you echoed, melting into his arms once again not planning on letting go anytime soon. 

He pressed his nose into your hair and smiled, lopsided. “I’ve got a lot of making up to do, y’know.” 

“Good thing you have the rest of our lives.” 

He tugged you onto the bed making you break into a fit of giggles as he pressed sloppy kisses over your entire face. 

“I think I’ll start right now.” 

[purpleyoonn]

The Line Between Love and War 12

C H A P T E R 1 2: PTD D1 AND OVERSTIMULATION

“It is said that the night sky is made up of tiny wishes that humans were never able to fulfill. That the stars only became bright by the fulfillment of those wishes. In your eyes, the stars that shine never seemed real, your childhood wishes dark and dim as you grow. But now, now you understand the twinkle in their eyes as they look down at you.”

Summary: Your experiences told you that soulmates were something you would never have the pleasure of having; something not given to you because of who you are, despite the soulmark that resides on your inner left wrist. During your solo trip to Los Angeles, you find out that you are more than capable, that your soulmates had been waiting for you for a long time, and would not be letting you go anytime soon.

Genre: soulmate au, bts au, idol bts, polyamory relationship, eventual smut

Paring: Idol!BTS x autistic!mc

Status: Ongoing (randomly updated)

Warnings: mental illness, talk of disability, lots of angst, miscommunication, feelings of depression, feelings of isolation, polyamory bts, stalking, dangerous behavior, eventual smut, 

Chapter Warnings: the concert, overstimulation, shut downs, not much, lots of feelings,

Taglist: @azazel-nyx​​​  @yuzon3​​​ @hannahdinse8​​​ @quirkybtsarmy​​​ @mageprincess7​​​  @fluffy-canada-pancakes​​​ @suckerforv​​​ @chaoticthingpizza​​​ @drissteele​​​ @carolinexkpop​​​ @avadakadabra93​​​ @lachimolala22019​​​  @justaweird0​​​ @singukieee​​​  @welcometomyworld13​​​ @toughbook​​​ @kimana122​​​ @kpopmultistantrashsstuff​​​ @0funsite0​​ @joyless-living​​ @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered​ @elliott-calls​​ @psychosupernatural​​

Masterlist // Chapter 11 // Chapter 13

————————————————–

Previously on The Line Between Love and War:

“Alright then. We well let Sejin and Seungho know. For now, I would appreciate if I could have some pre-concert kisses from my littlest mate.” Namjoon reached his arms out, pouting his lip a little knowing it would cause you to laugh at him. 

You struggle to get yourself out of Hobi and Taehyung’s embrace, who noticeably tightened their grip once Namjoon opened his arms. 

“Heyyyy, not nice!” You whine, finally pulling yourself away and falling into Namjoon’s arms. 

“But we want pre-concert kisses too!” Taehyung whined back, making you laugh again, hiding your face in Namjoon’s neck.

You could already hear Army beginning to enter the arena, voices and screams echoing as the pre-concert videos started to play on the big screens. Taehyung was sitting with you, having finished getting ready first. He was in the middle of making sure you were okay being in the security gates in front of everyone else. He knew how loud noises made you feel. 

“Don’t worry Tae! I’ve got the headphones that Yoongi gave me.” You smiled wide at him, hoping that would reassure your stressed-looking mate. It didn’t reassure him at all though. He opened his mouth to say something else but was cut off by Seungho.

“Come on, Y/n. We need to get you to your seat before the boys start.” Seungho gives Taehyung an apologetic glance and nod before he starts to lead you out of the room. But before you can leave, you turn around and quickly give each of the boys a hug, not wanting to kiss them in case it ruins the make up the make-up artists spent so long on. 

“Good luck! I’m so excited!” You tell the last part to Seungho as you hold your hands up to your chest, your fists shaking in excitement. 

You went from traveling about a week early to experience Los Angeles by yourself because you couldn’t get any tickets to now having seven soulmates and being able to attend not just one, but all four of the PTD La concerts. Your entire life literally changed at the blink of any eye, or well, more like running into a wall. 

“This is your first concert, correct?” Seungho asked you, not remembering if you’ve attended anything before. 

“Yes!” You exclaimed back, your fists still shaking as you make it to the stairs that will get you to the ground floor and into the security gates in front of the stage. There was a good maybe ten feet between the security gates for the floor seats and the stage where the boys would be performing.

Hobi explained it to you that you would have a seat in the section right in front of the edge of the stage, and that it wouldn’t be close to the floor seats where Army is seated. 

They were worried to say the least. While they loved Army, and trusted them with you, they also knew there were some “fans” who were not happy that they found their last soulmate, and that it wasn’t any of them. They wanted you to be safe, which was why they wanted you up with their family in the box. Obviously, due to your fear of heights, they had to figure something else out, wanting you to experience their concert like an Army. 

Seungho escorts you to the seat set aside but you don’t sit down, to excited and pumped up. You stood watching the stage, taking everything in. It seemed way different than it did earlier before sound check. The entire atmosphere was different. You could feel the energy and excitement of every single Army coming in and finding their seats. Some even running down to the 100’s section. 

What caught your eye though was the people who had soundcheck coming back down to the floor section, all running towards you. You startled, Seungho moving directly in front of you once he caught the movement of the crowd. You held onto his arm before letting go just as quickly, not knowing if he was comfortable with your touch. 

Despite your aversion to touch, you felt safe with him; you just didn’t know if he also had an aversion to touch and you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. 

However, a single, subtle nod from him let you know your actions were okay, holding onto his arm again as you try to peak over or around his broad shoulders to see the group of Armies still running your way. You didn’t know if it was because you were directly in front of the stage or what, but seeing a group of men and women running towards you scared the crap out of you.

Now you understand how celebrities feel when fans spot them out and about, without security with them. 

“Stay behind me please, Y/n.” Seungho told you, feeling you trying to peek around him. He had a feeling they were rushing for you, trying to get close to the barrier in front of you. He had been watching your social media, following the discussions and posts about you. You were well liked by a lot of people, and also not so liked by some. He didn’t know which it was coming for you tonight, and he didn’t like it. 

You could hear your name being called; pictures being taken of you. It was weird and seemed a bit unreal, just like earlier when you did the Instagram live. You could feel some other members of the boys’ security team moving to help Seungho.

“Seungho, I think they are just excited. I don’t think they’ll hurt me. I have you to help protect me. Plus, there is about five feet between my seat and the barrier.” You were not going to lie, you were freaking out. But you didn’t want Seungho or the boys to have to worry about you the entire time, and if Seungho continued to try and hide you from Army, you knew that would happen. 

He looked back at you, and seeing how serious you were, only moved a couple inches to the left, still in front of you but not necessarily hiding you. Taking a deep breath, and trying to hide your nervous stimming, you looked at Army. 

“Hi guys! Please enjoy the concert! The boys have worked super hard and are so excited to see you guys again.” You spoke loudly, not wanting to yell in Seungho’s ears as he still stood close. 

“Y/n! What song are you excited for?”

“Y/n! Have you completed the bond yet?”

“Who is your bias?”

You ignored the second question, and the others like it that were being yelled your way, instead, you tried to answer some of the questions, but didn’t want to make the night about yourself. This night was about the boys, not you. 

“Please guys, the concert is about to start!” You decided to move back to your seat and not stand in front of the barrier anymore. 

You were now actively stimming, your body trying to help you feel more comfortable with the attention and new experiences. Your fists were clenched in front of you, shaking fast back and forth. It was a stim you’ve been doing since you were a kid, something you did when you got really excited or happy. You tried not to, despite how much you needed to, because you always felt embarrassed when doing that particular stim. You had been made fun of before for doing it, so instead you rocked your body forwards and backwards slowly. 

It took a couple more minutes before you could hear the intro starting, music slowly becoming louder until the boys came on stage from below. It also took the same amount of time for you to become completely overwhelmed and overstimulated. Despite your headphones, the music was loud and seemed to be louder than the screams behind you. The lights were flashing and the movement of the boys on stage had you practically shutting down. The stares you could feel on your back didn’t help, either.

You tried hard not to though, even though you know you needed it. Your boys needed this more. This was the first concert for them since the pandemic started and the went into the army. You knew they were happy being back on stage after so long and didn’t want to ruin anything for them. You wanted them to see you happy and not having any issues. You didn’t want them to worry. 

You could feel the sting from your nails digging into your palm as you clenched your hands. Your voice gone as you tried to show some kind of emotion resembling happiness or awe on your face. You didn’t need Seungho trying to bring you back into the dressing room and alerting everyone that something was wrong. 

So, you spent the rest of the concert rocking back and forth and mouthing along to all the songs the boys sang. Your nails were practically stuck in your palm and you were stuck in your head. You could tell the cord connecting your mouth and brain wasn’t connected anymore and didn’t know when it would again.

You just wanted Jungkook to hold you and rub your back again but figured you probably wouldn’t get that tonight. They would probably be too pumped up with adrenal after the concert to do anything other than want to celebrate with army like normal. 

You could probably get away with cuddling up to Yoongi’s sweatshirt again as you laid in your shared bed. You didn’t want to bother them when they shared this excitement and happiness with army after so long. The last thing you wanted was to be a burden. 

-*-*-

Despite being completely overstimulated, you thought the concert was amazing. You don’t think you would go to one again, but you could see why so many people always praised your soulmates’ concerts and performance skills. 

You waited in the dressing room as the last notes of the last song play out throughout the stadium speakers. Seungho had thought it a safety issue to exit with the rest of army to try and make it backstage. So, he had taken you back during the second to last song. 

You still haven’t spoken a word, and Seungho could tell something was wrong. Your facial expression was vacant and it seemed as though your eyes were glazed over as you stared down at the small table in front of you. He was worried. 

You almost didn’t notice the arrival of your soulmates, mind gone to the stimulation you felt. 

“Hey baby! Did you have fun?” Jin came up and sat next to you on the loveseat, securing the spot next to you before anyone else. It was a couple of hours until his birthday and he was feeling the excitement of having his birthday with his finally complete soulbond group. 

But once he saw you, zoned out and not even registering their entrance, he had a feeling of what was going on. He was reminded of the closet incidence, your wide eyes glazed and unable to track what was going on. He moved in front of you, kneeling down so he could catch your eye. 

“Baby?” Jin tried, but you were gone. He now had the attention of the others, and Taehyung and Yoongi made it over first. 

“What should we do? Should we hold her like last time?” Taehyung asked, remembering how Jungkook held you in his arms and how the physical contact helped bring you back. 

“Here, let me try something.” Namjoon took control, switching places with Jin who now sat back next to you. Their movement didn’t phase you, your eyes still glazed over. 

Namjoon moved slowly, just in case you came back to, and moved so his palm was cupping your cheek. At his touch, your eyes became focused again and he could see how truly tired you were. 

“Hi baby girl. Are you okay?” He knew you weren’t but he still needed to know if something was physically wrong, and you seemed to know his intention as you shook your head no. At this response, they all knew you were nonverbal; Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung all watching from the back as their hyungs take over the situation. 

“How about we go back to the hotel, and have a relaxing night, hmm?” Namjoon asks but stops as you shake your head, grabbing tightly to his forearm. His face scrunched up in concern, wondering what was going on through your head. 

You swallow your spit, trying your hardest to push words through your lips, only for them to keep getting caught in the back of your throat. Finally, you manage to push through one word, hoping they understand what you mean. 

“Celebrate.” You word is raspy, as if you had a bad cold recently. 

They had just gotten back from the military only months ago, managed to plan two weekends worth of content and concerts for Army, and as only a fan could know, they usually celebrated the concert afterwards with a live. You didn’t want that taken away from Army, and you didn’t want the boys to break a tradition just because you got overstimulated. It didn’t seem fair in any way. 

You would be fine; you always were before. Yeah, it might take time, but you would be fine. 

Army needed the boys more than you right now. 

“What do you mean baby?” Jimin asked from behind Hobi, eyes narrowed in confusion as he watches your expression. 

You knew you couldn’t push out another word, so you grabbed Namjoon’s palm from your cheek and held it flat in front of you, using your pointer finger you traced the word Army on his palm, hoping he would get it. You even trace it in Hangul when he didn’t get it in English. 

“You want us to celebrate with Army?” Namjoon finally realizes what you were trying to say, nodding his head as it clicks. 

You nod your head in response but stop once you see the look on your soulmates faces. You could tell they didn’t understand why you were asking them that. Why you wanted them to celebrate with army even when you weren’t doing good. 

So, you pull out the big guns, something Jimin taught you when Jin kept telling you no more ice cream. Jimin said it would bring out an immediate ‘yes’ from the hyungs every time, so you tried it.

You pulled out the puppy dog eyes and the lip pout. 

An immediate round of groans sounded throughout the room, every single one of your soulmates looked away from you, trying not to be drawn in by your expression. 

To seal the deal, you brought your hands together, folded in a way that everyone usually added with pleading words, but you couldn’t speak right now, so you held your clenched hands up close to your face. 

Eventually, Jin was the one who folded. 

“Alright baby! But we have some conditions.” He raised an eyebrow at you as you turned to face him. 

“We’ll do the live as long as you are there with us, so we can see you and make sure you’re okay. You’re going to drink some water, and let one of us hold you until the live, because that helped you a lot last time.” You knew they were talking about the last time you got too overstimulated, so you agreed. 

Maybe selfishly, though, you agreed to the terms. You kind of just wanted to be cocooned in like a little safety nest as you watched the boys do their live, maybe covered in one of their shirts or sweaters again. They always made you feel safe and comfortable and were slowly becoming a part of your collection of safe clothing. 

“Okay, boys, lets grab our things so we can get back to the hotel. Namjoon, why don’t you grab out little soulmate and go get into the car, we’ll grab your things.” Jin clapped his hands together after moving the night along, wanting to get back to the hotel. 

It didn’t take but a couple seconds for Namjoon to pick you up, his hands moving under your thighs and holding you to him so you were chest to chest. 

“Come here baby. Let’s go.” You looked around for your backpack, only to see Seungho handing it off to Jungkook who had deemed your backpack his responsibility. You can’t fight him for carrying you this time, exhaustion finally hitting you as you tuck your head into the curve of your soulmate’s neck. 

It was a good thing too, as you didn’t realize some fans had figured out where the boys’ vans were and had been waiting outside for you all to leave, phones at the ready to take pictures and videos. This also meant that it would take longer to get back to the hotel, as some fans loved trying to follow the boys to figure out where you all were staying. 

One of Namjoon’s hands moved from your holding your thigh to covering your face, protecting you in what he considers a vulnerable moment. He walked faster, Sejin moving with him so he could open the door for you both before having a word with one of the drivers. 

Even as you get into the car, and Namjoon’s sits down, he still holds you on his lap, crossing his arms behind your back so you were practically glued to his chest. He moved his left hand lower, almost touching your butt as he moves his hand under your shirt, making contact with your back and begins rubbing his hand up and down your back. He knew this helped you last time and it was one of the only things he had to go on right now as far as helping you out of your shut down. 

You both wait patiently for your other soulmates, time passing slowly as you turn your head and watch fans take pictures of the van. You knew they couldn’t get pictures of you through the tinted windows, but you still felt a little vulnerable. You were unable to protect yourself in anyway, nonverbal and in the middle of a shutdown, and it was a little daunting. 

You turned your head back into Namjoon’s neck, your head resting against his chest as you watch the boys all begin to make their way quickly to the vans. Jungkook, Hobi, and Yoongi made their way into your van, while the others went into the first one. 

“Okay, so Sejin is going to separate our vans, each going a separate way to make it back to the hotel so we aren’t followed. We also have three deco vans waiting to draw confusion.” Yoongi’s voice was raspy and slow from the concert and his own emotions. 

He, along with the others were feeling a lot of emotions from finally being able to perform at a concert for Army, but also watching you shut down from the very same concert. It was a lot. 

“How is she?” Jungkook asks quietly. 

Out of all your soulmates, Jungkook seems to have taken on most of the responsibility for your care and well-being on himself. He finally has a soulmate younger than him, that can rely on him and that he can provide for. So, for him, he has put the responsibility on his own shoulders, something his soulmates have already talked to him about. 

“I’m okay.” 

You were. You had just been relishing in Namjoon’s touch and had felt the connection build again between your brain and mouth. You still weren’t used to being taken care of, to mean something to other people, and you knew it would take a while but you loved the way they worried about you, the way they cared for you. 

It was the same way you cared for them. 

-*-*-

It had taken you over an hour to make it back to the hotel. There had been several vehicles trying to follow you, the final car getting lost at a traffic light about fifteen minutes ago. To be safe, the driver kept driving around. 

Your van had been the last to make it back to the hotel, and when you go to the room, a small bundle of blankets and pillows, along with some of the boys’ sweaters had been made into a little nest for you by the far wall close to the kitchen. You were in perfect view of the boys as the couches and chairs had been rearranged so they could all be in view of the camera. 

When Namjoon let you down, a bundle of clothes had been shoved into your hand as Jimin led you to your shared room with Yoongi and Jin to change. Jimin walked into the bathroom while you changed into a pair of your comfy leggings and one of Taehyung’s shirts. 

After doing your skincare for you, wanting you to feel nice and clean while you waited for them to be finished, Jimin helped you back into the living room and into your small nest, bundling Jin and Jungkook’s sweater around you while you watched the boys set up snacks and drinks on the coffee table. 

“Okay, now, don’t move.” Jimin pointed his finger at you, his face scrunching playfully as he tries to make you smile. And it works, a small giggle making its way out of your mouth catching the attention of your soulmates. 

“Here,” he pulls your phone out of his back pocket, pulling up the live on it before handing it to you. “Keep an eye out for questions you think we should answer, okay baby?” He asks you, wanting you to still be involved in their tradition with Army. While he would rather you be seated with them on the couch, he knows it’s not what you need right now. 

 “I will, Minnie.” You nod and smile tiredly at his request. He smiles back, kissing you softly before pulling back entirely, Jungkook taking his place with a bottle of water for you. He stays quiet, kissing your forehead before moving to sit with Hobi and Joon on the couch. 

You watch them as the live starts, hundreds of questions showing up on the screen as thousands of viewers turn into millions. At first a lot of the questions are about you, why Namjoon was seen carrying you out of the venue and some were even asking why you stayed seated the entire concert. 

The boys said a simple response to questions about you. They agreed that they wanted to stop the rumors of any health issues or problems while they could, especially after Namjoon was seen carrying you out. 

“Y/n is doing okay and is resting here with us after a long and overstimulating day. She had a lot of new experiences and is in the middle of processing them.” Namjoon spoke in his leader voice, glancing at you for a few seconds as he speaks. 

The questions and comments continue, but this time mainly about the boys and the concerts and their upcoming plans. You even commented a few things, trying to remember what it felt like to be Army, commenting “I love you” and hoping they would see it. 

You did that the entire time, finding cute little comments and even yelling out “Yoongi Marry Me” every time you saw it which did not amuse your cute soulmate who only looked your way while the others laughed every time. You also drank your entire bottled water, knowing that was one of the promises you made to Jin. 

And in the end, once the live was finished, he was the first to go to you, picking you up out of your little nest and into his arms. You were feeling a lot better, no longer overstimulated due to your soulmates care. 

“How are you feeling, baby?” You could hear the concern in his voice. 

“I’m doing a lot better! You all always seem to know what to do.” You hug him tightly, kissing his jaw in a show of thanks. 

“Well, I bought tickets for an amusement park for tonight for us. Do you think you might be up for it?” Jin couldn’t even finish his question before you were squealing in his ear, jumping from his hold and rushing to your shared room. 

“I guess that is a yes.” He told Yoongi and Taehyung who were staring at Jin, seeing the entire thing before walking off to the room. 

Jimin and Jungkook were already in the room, helping you pick out a matching outfit with Jin, who was going in a pair of his overalls and a white shirt. He wanted you all to match, but you and Jimin were the only ones who currently had a pair of overalls to wear. 

You were excited, jumping in your seat as you waited for everyone else to get ready to go. You loved the rides and playing the games but you think your favorite was the food. You never really went to the fair often, which was as close to an amusement park as you had gotten, your mother thinking going to a big field full of people of all walks of life below her standing. 

But you loved it and couldn’t wait to experience it with your soulmates. 

[gilverrwrites]

Call me Tim

Tim Drake/Reader, 2K

[Say his name, P2] AN: I did not expect part 1 to be se well recieved, here hoping part 2 was worth the wait! CWs: Breach of trust, teasing, semi-public foreplay, mildly stalker-ish behaviour on Tims part.

Tim had always told himself that fucking his fans was not a thing for him. Not a kink. Bernard was different, he just had so much passion. He would have been into him regardless of whatever he was fixated on.

Then you happened.

Ever since he’s been telling himself that it was coincidence, not causation. And again, he liked you before he found out you’d spent your formative years kissing cutouts of him. Well, he doesn’t know that part for sure, but he liked to imagine it. Point being; your adolescent crush on him was not the driving force behind his attraction to you.

But as he found himself plotting ways to naturally bump into you as Tim Drake-Wayne, it was becoming increasingly harder to deny that he maybe was, a little bit, kind of into it.

Hitting you up online? Too out of the blue.

Turning up at your house? Way too much.

Then one night the perfect opportunity arose. He’d overheard you making plans to meet some friends at an uptown bar later that week. He wasn’t scheduled to patrol that night. Despite the logical part of his brain telling him it was a creepy move, he just couldn’t pass up the chance. Red Robin had to be so cautious around you, but if you hit it off with Tim he could let a little loose around you.

That’s how he’s ended up sitting on the table adjacent to yours, listening in on your private conversation and praying you wouldn’t recognise him before he was ready.

“So have you guys ever had someone ask you to call them by a different name when you’re… you know?” He nearly coughs on his drink, sitting bolt upright as though it will help him hear better. He trusts you not to spill on who the guy is. You’d had that conversation already, but he wants to hear you say Tim again.

“What like ‘Daddy’? Yeah, my ex was into that.”

“No.” Your voice has grown so quiet, laced with a sheepish laugh just like the morning you’d confessed about your crush to him. God, he wishes he could turn around and look at your face. He’d bet you’re all flustered. “Like, another actual man’s name?”

“No, hon. That’s weird.”

“Who’s the guy? Whose name?”

“You don’t know him.” You shut down the first question. He bets your fidgeting, looking at anything other than your friends as you consider your next words cafeully. “But he wanted me to call him Tim. As in, Tim Drake.”

“That’s really weird. Did he know you used to be down bad for him?”

He knows it's mean to turn around now, and worse, risky. Liable to scare you away but it’s so worth it to see the five stages of grief cross your face in the span of 3 seconds when you notice him. You're like a starstruck deer in the headlights as the word “yeah” dies on your lips. If he cupped your cheeks right now, he's certain the heat would burn away any remnants of his fingerprints.

The whole table falls silent as one by one, your friend’s clue into the situation. If it weren’t for their sickly amused smiles, and the foley of the bar, you’d think the world has stopped turning. You wish the world would stop turning.

He’s staring at you with an almost impish smile and your fight, flight, or freeze kicks in. You opt for stuttering “I have to piss!” As you abruptly leave the table.

I have to piss. You just bumped into The Tim Drake, and the first things he heard from your mouth were that you’d called his name while hooking up with someone, and I have to piss.   

The queue to the solo bathroom in this place is always long, and usually you’d be annoyed but tonight you’re grateful for the extra time to compose yourself, or you would be if you apparently hadn’t been followed.

“So, is he your boyfriend?” Where the fuck had he come from? You hadn’t seen him approach at all.

“He’s…” Not, not your boyfriend. You see each other at least weekly, sometimes you cook for him, and he often brings you gifts. However, you’ve never had that conversation, you don’t even know who he is under the mask. You don’t have his phone number. Despite multiple sexual encounters, you hadn’t even seen him naked. Now that you think about it, there’s a definite power imbalance in whatever you have. “Why?”

You’re much more defensive of his teasing than you are with Red Robin. Understandable, you didn’t really know Tim, and he’s really hit you out of left field. This is all turning out a bit crueller than he’d intended, but he can’t bring himself to stop. Your apprehension tonight is as tempting as your timidness had been last time. It’s like he’s trying to seduce you on hard mode.

“Just tryin’ to find out if it would be appropriate to buy you a drink, maybe ask you to dance?” He sounds off. Not like he does in the TV interviews and podcasts you’d heard him on, but still familiar. It’s hard to focus on, however, because he’s standing so close. Close enough for you to smell the fresh sweetness of his aftershave, for you to see the features you’ve been fantasising about up close.

“This place doesn’t have a dance floor.”

“We could go to another place.”

“Oh no buddy, I’m not going to any secondary locations.” He can’t help the smile that crosses his lips. You remembered his safety tip. He just hopes it reads as anything other than prideful to you right now. “Don’t think for a second just cause you heard what you heard that I’m gonna fall all over you.”

“Buddy? You can call me Tim.” The obvious innuendo has you cracking a genuine smile. Your nerves are still apparent from the way you're tapping your fingers against your thigh, and your refusal to make meaningful eye contact with him but he’s chipping at your walls. There's four people waiting ahead, and he wonders if he can breach your shields completely before it's your turn. “Or if it makes you feel better you could call me whatever that other guy’s name is.”

“Is this how you get people to sleep with you? You tease them relentlessly until they give up just so you’ll go away when it’s over?”

“Ouch.” You have a point, he’s never behaved like this before. He’s always been a self-confessed smartass, but you just bring out something especially brazen within him. Something wicked. He’s being a jerk, but you’re chewing your lips and sneaking awed glances at him, which implies you’re more into it than you’d admit. “Am I not what you expected?”

He probably would live up to your expectations had this been your real first meeting. If he wasn’t already comfortable around you, he’d be enamoured by your appearance, too skittish to match your keen whit or ask about your hobbies, not when you look at him with those eyes. If anything, the typical Tim Drake persona might even bore you by rambling on about detective novels or WayneTech.

“You’re why people say you should never meet your heroes.”

“Okay, fine.” Maybe he had gotten a bit carried away messing with you. “Can I just ask you one more thing, and then I’ll go away, or buy you a drink? Whatever you want.”

Your eyes drift up to the ceiling as you consider his offer. It’s not an uncommon tick for people to have, but it’s certainly more endearing when you do it. Eventually, you nod, conceding to him and offering real, esrnest eye contact. You’re still willing to hear out your favourite celebrity, and a pang of guilt at once again abusing his authority thrums through his chest.

It doesn’t stop him from asking, however. “What clued this guy into your crush on me?”

“Pictures.” You frown, still not breaking eye contact. Something is different. The nervous energy you’ve been emanating since he’d followed you to the line has subsided, replaced by something tantalisingly self-assured.

“Pictures of what?”

He tries to pry but you give him nothing.

“Of you.”

“What kind of pictures.”

The answers here don’t matter to him anyway, he already knows. He’s just trying to segue into a specific set of questions.

“Just, pictures.”

“How ambiguous.” Here’s his chance to try and satisfy that burning fantasy. “Did you practice kissing on them?”

“What? No.” Your tense shoulders say otherwise. “Why would you even ask that?”

“I don’t know.” Perfect. He gives his best noncommittal shrug before leaning in closer, balancing his weight on the wall behind you until the distance between your bodies is closed. He can still pick up hints of your body wash, but it’s washed out but the smell of a parfum that he wishes he could spray on his pillows at night. “Thought I’d offer you the real thing to compare.”

Your response isn’t what he’s expected, but it is what he’s hoped. Your lips press softly against the corner of his lips, and he can’t stop from locking a hand on your hip, not to force anything further, but to stop you from backing away. Although, the wall he has you partly confined against has been doing a pretty good job thus far.

He needn’t bother, however, because it doesn’t take long for you to grow more confident. This is the moment he’s been waiting for.

His mouth parts at the first sign of your tongue and you eagerly explore his mouth. He tastes like IPA, hoppy and warm. Your hands boldly play across his chest, until you fist the fabric of his shirt and tug him closer, deepening the kiss until he moans into your open mouth.

Your sudden boldness is doing things for him. Head spinney, dick hard things. Thoughtlessly, he ruts his hips, rubbing his clothes cock against your lower abdomen until you pull away with a laugh. It’s his turn to be nervous. You’re looking at him with something fierce and canny.

“Excuse me.” A clearly unamused man interjects himself between your embrace to point at the bathroom. “Are you waiting?”

“Oh, yeah.” Tim is surprised by your chipper poise, as you smile politely at the man. He’s even more surprised when you hook your fingers into the give of his leather belt and proceed to drag him with you into the cubicle, locking him inside with you as you offer thanks to the stranger.

“What are you doing?”

“Comparing with the real thing.”  You grace him with another, hard kiss, backing him against the door. Your tongue is hot against his already heated skin as you hurriedly work it along his jaw and neck. He remembers how you’d looked when you’d first noticed him earlier and wonders if his burning face looks equally as nonplussed as he lets you have your way with him against the bathroom door.

He hisses when you plunge your fingers below his belt once more, this time unbuckling it. You’ve fucking cracked, he must have broken something in your brain. There’ll be exaggerated stories about this all over the Gotham Globe’s home page tomorrow. Hell, if he cares though.

“You’ve changed your tune.” He comments, bucking his hips, helping you free him from his boxers. Your fingers lock around his base, and it throbs at finally being touched by you. He’s wanted so badly to fuck you for months but as Red Robin, he’s had to be careful, had to put his guard up which had resulted in a very altruistic sex life. But Tim Drake could fuck you. Right here, right now, Tim Drake-Wayne would fuck whatever hole you’d give him and the thought of it has him losing composure fast.

Your lips lock in one last frenzied kiss before you drop to your knees, and you look like an Angel sent from hell, looking up at him from beneath his reddened cock, with heady eyes and salacious smile.

“So, Red.” Shit. His heart skips a beat. Shit. Shit. Shit. He’s not sure what gave him away, but he doesn’t have a chance to care before you spit on his dick and start to pump with a deliberate rhythmic pace that has his head rolling back against the door. He’s not sure if he wishes he’d never done this at all, or if he’d done it sooner. “What name should I use tonight?”

[jaehvuno]

Trick or Treat- J.J

PAIRING. jaehyun x afab reader

GENRE. smut

WARNINGS. unprotected sex, choking, squirting, creampie, jaehyun watches reader get off

WC. 1.4k

A/N: happy october 1st!!!🎃🖤 a nice repost from 127kive (rip..) as i work on this haechan fic that’s been in the drafts collecting dust... hope you enjoy! feedback is v much needed.. PLEASEEE

Jaehyun didn’t mean for this to happen.

He didn’t mean to watch his sexy new neighbor from across the street get off. But.. Could you blame him? You sat directly in front of your window blinds wide open chest on display as your fingers toyed with your clit. The first time he came across you he only looked for a second before quickly closing his curtains and looking away. He figured you didn’t mean to have your blinds open, probably just forgetting to close them.

Jaehyun couldn’t help but take a peek through his brown curtains yet again ears turning bright red as he watched you push two fingers in your cunt. He felt his pants become unbearably tight, quickly unzipping them pushing his pants down just enough to free his cock.

Biting at his lip as he watched you finger your cunt lazily stroking his cock letting out a groggy groan of your name tossing his head back

“fuck y/n”

Jaehyun quickly cleans himself up mentally slapping himself in the face for getting off to his neighbor he’s met once. He tried splashing his face with some cool water telling himself he would never do something like that again. Of course… that was a lie.

Jaehyun would constantly check to see if you were back on your couch in the same position touching yourself again. and to his surprise you were. At this point Jaehyun swore you were starting to do it on purpose. And he was right.

You didn’t notice Jaehyun until the third time you got off. Always in crunch time you figured why not just do a quick one again on the couch. When you went to close your blinds you could see Jaehyun peeking through his curtains making you quirk an eyebrow. Huh. You didn’t think Jaehyun would do something so pervy but you didn’t mind it. In fact you liked it. Jaehyun has always been your guy next door crush so the fact he watched you get off made you even more horny for him. Though you enjoyed having him watch you, you were tired of getting your own self off. You shot him a quick text letting him know you were throwing a halloween party and would love for him to come.

Replying within seconds sending you a small ‘i’ll be there;)’ in response. Your face felt warm from the text not being able to contain your happiness.

“Trick or Treat!” you smiled at the kids on your doorstep holding their bags open as you dropped candy in each of their buckets wishing them a happy halloween. Looking at your watch knowing that your guests will start arriving in seconds you decided to put more drinks out. Hearing the doorbell rang again shouting a quick ‘coming!’ as you rushed to grab it smiling when you saw Jaehyun.

He was dressed as Jack from Titanic, a grin on his face as he teasingly asked “trick or treat?”

“come in” leading the way jaehyun closing the door behind him following you into the living room. “You're here early, the party doesn’t start till 9” you handed jaehyun a cup sitting across from him. “Well we do live across the street from each other” he chuckled taking a sip of his water

“That's true.. or maybe you came early in hopes of watching me get off again” Jaehyun choked on his drink putting the red solo cup on the coffee table. “I—I’m sorry what?” he asked with a nervous smile on his face. “you think I didn’t know?” getting up from your chair walking over to Jaehyun.

He rubbed his sweaty palms on his khaki pants as you approached him. “I saw you every time you peeked through your curtains watching me play with myself” Jaehyun's ears begin to turn bright red, feeling humiliated. Not knowing if he should fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness or just straight up leave.

“Why did you sit there and watch me when you could of came over and fucked me?” Jaehyun froze.

You.. liked him watching you? He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His eyes followed your hands as you undid his shirt legs coming up to straddle his waist. Grabbing his face roughly making him look at you “Can I touch you?” Jaehyun nodded the best he could as you gripped his chin “please” he mumbled. Smiling at how desperate he looked, releasing his chin as you kissed down his neck and chest. Licking a long strip up his nipple making him jump slightly at the feeling as you blew cool air on it watching it harden.

Sucking on the right nipple your hand playing with the left one Jaehyun’s hand squeezing at your thighs as much as he can. Feeling your red and black striped tights sticking to your core as Jaehyun moaned. “Come here” Jaehyun said breathlessly, grabbing you by your neck and gasping as he kissed you. You let out a moan wrapping your hand around Jaehyun’s as he held onto your throat grinding down on his bulge.

Jaehyun pulled back from the kiss making you gasp again “need you to fuck me before the guest get here” quickly locking your legs around his waist as he laid you down on the couch not even bothering to pull your tights off ripping them open a cocky grin appearing on his face.

“No panties? You had this all planned out huh?” questioning you as he undid his pants watching his every move, mouth watering at the sight of his cock. “Wanted me just as bad as I wanted you” he mumbled in your neck as he lined himself up with your cunt

“wanted you so bad jaehyun.. so ba—“ slightly arching your back off the couch as he pushed himself into your tight hole a loud gasp leaving your mouth from the stretch. It hurt so good. Jaehyun gave you no time to get used to his size fucking you like there was no damn tomorrow. Lazily kissing at your neck as he fucked you. Moans and whimpers spill from your mouth pulling Jaehyun by his hair to kiss his lips. Groaning in the kiss reaching a hand down to toy with your clit.

“I-It feels so g-good jae” whimpering as Jaehyun held your face “yeah? you feel good baby?” nodding repeatedly letting a tear slip down your cheek. “so.. fucking good” you say in between breaths Jaehyun smiles at you raising your leg on his shoulder to thrust deeper making you squeal in surprise.

“oh my fucking god! so—“ clawing at his shoulder barely able to form a sentence “s-so deep! Jaehyun, it's so— deep!” you whined out feeling your orgasm approaching quicker and quicker.

“I know baby I know” Jaehyun cooed while kissing your ear. You felt your legs begin to shake uncontrollably as you hit your orgasm scratching at Jaehyun’s back even harder. “Fuck! Fuck! Please” squeezing your eyes shut as Jaehyun thrusted in you overstimulating you like it was nothing while he chased his orgasm.

“Jaehyun please! i-i-“ your vision was beginning to blur letting jaehyun use you as much as he wanted his cock stretching you out so good and filling you up so well. “D-Don’t stop” You grabbed his hand bringing it up for him to wrap around your neck “Look at me” Jaehyun groaned out. Your eyes barely opening as you felt your second orgasm coming “w-want it in me jae” holding onto his hand as his thrust got sloppy and needier

“want you to cum in me please Jaehyun please” you cried out cumming for the second time legs shaking loud whines and whimper leaving your dry lips

“fuck y/n shit” Jaehyun groaned thrusting one last time filling you up to the brim with his cum. Your legs shook as he filled you up, his hand unwrapping from your throat pulling out and laying on the other side of the couch. At this point you didn’t have it in you to have a party anymore. Jaehyun fucked you like he was never gonna fuck you again leaving you limpless and tired. Jaehyun sat up pushing his damp hair back buttoning up his shirt and tucking himself back into his pants.

“was that your first time doing that?” you raised an eyebrow at him confused. “you squirted” quickly sitting up seeing the huge wet spot on your couch cursing to yourself. How the fuck were you gonna cover that up before people arrived?

“yes it was.. i don’t know why you’re surprised i did you were fucking me like crazy” Jaehyun laughed at your comment ear’s turning bright red again. “Let me get you cleaned up before everyone gets here” Jaehyun reached down to pick you up asking you which way to your room

“How about I tell everyone the party is canceled and we watch halloween movies instead?” giving you a warm smile Jaehyun pecked your forehead before agreeing with you.

“Deal”

[discordantwritings]

Captain’s Orders (Buggy x Reader)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, angst, Buggy is bad at feelings, canon typical violence, oral, PiV sex, creampie

WC: 8.4k

Summary: Getting a job as the chronicler of the Buggy pirates was the best, then worst, then best thing that ever happened to you.

Notes: The second I realized I hadn’t done a solo buggy fic I wrote this I’m so sorry buggy

No one tells you how hard it is to keep a job on a pirate ship. Unless you manage to land with a big name captain the chances your job sinks to the bottom of the sea is pretty high. Which is what happened to your last three jobs- you were so tired of ending up on a dingy paddling away from a lost battle that you had no say in. You were a chronicler after all- not exactly a fighting pirate.

Despite being a non-essential crew member a chronicler was a sought after person. Every pirate thinks they are going to be the one to find the One Piece so, naturally, every pirate needs to have someone to log their journey to becoming king of the pirates. It was a little tiring, hearing the same story over and over again, writing the same few chapters only to end up waterlogged and searching for a new ship at the end.

But you needed to eat and you could only afford to live at this tavern for so long. You’d posted your services on the local board, listing your name and where you were staying in hopes of drawing in a pirate captain. One that hopefully won’t be going under in less than a month. And if you were really lucky- one that wasn’t so painfully textbook.

Really you should have known the gods were going to get you for wishing that.

When the clowns first walk into the tavern you wonder if you missed some signage that a carnival was coming into town. But when a distinctly dressed blue haired pirate captain walks in behind them- you put it all together. The Buggy Pirates were docked here. Their chronicler probably had their hands full but at least it wasn’t the same boring-

You notice when the barkeep points Buggy the Clown in your direction. The two of you make eye contact across the room and you quickly run through your memory to try and figure out what you could have possibly done to be hunted down by a big name pirate. As his heavy boots thud against the wooden floors you can’t think of a single time you’ve even brushed shoulders with any clowns let alone pirate ones. As Buggy looms over your table you frantically try and think of a way out of whatever sorry situation you’ve accidentally gotten yourself into only for that hurried train of thought to be abruptly derailed.

“You the chronicler who has that ad posted?”

It takes you probably too long to respond with a squeaky- “Yes?”

“Great!” The clown takes the chair next to you and sits down, quickly putting his feet up on the table. “Do you have examples of a resume or whatever?”

“You don’t already have a chronicler?” The question is out of your mouth before you can stop it and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying more stupid things.

“Nope.” He shrugs and you see the rest of his crew settle in around the tavern.

“Oh. Well-“ You reach off to your side and take out a leather bound journal that has some of your work plastered in it. “Here’s some snippets.”

As you hand it over to Buggy you feel as his sea green eyes rake over you for a few moments before he finally takes the book. He flips to the first page, looks at it for maybe all of two seconds before snapping it shut. “How would you write about me?”

Then why did he even- “Well I think- see people sometimes assume a chronicler only writes down the basic facts are events but I think a real chronicler tells a story that the average person didn’t get to see or hear about. For example a lot of people heard about the Straw Hats taking you out at Orange Town-“

He sits up a bit, gaze hardening but you quickly continue. “But- I think there’s a different story there! They fought the fishmen so soon after your encounter with them and it’s no secret that the Arlong Crew was pushing their luck in the East Blue. So the story there should really be about how you used your genius to let the Straw Hats go and sent the Arlong Crew after them- letting your opponents fight it out and weaken each other.”

There’s a long pause where you feel the clown practically searing holes into your skin with his gaze until he finally breaks into a smile that rivals the one painted on his face. “That’s exactly it! You get it! People just need to hear the right side of the story! Start writing that down. That'll be your first entry as our chronicler.”

That is probably the most presumptuous way you’ve ever been offered a job but you certainly were not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Great!”

It’s only after Buggy then orders a round of drinks in celebration and the cheering begins that you realize something.

“I don’t have to wear a clown costume do I?”

You didn’t have to wear a clown costume but already in the few weeks you’ve been a member of the Buggy Pirates your wardrobe had gotten more colorful. A sequin scarf here- a bright blue shirt there- these things just landed in your bunk and it did help you fit in. You minded it less than you thought you would, being in a crew that actually put thought into how they looked was a pleasant change.

You tied a striped sash around your waist over your pants as you prepared to have your nightly debriefing with your new captain. During the day you flitted about the ship, taking notes on everything that happens. Every night though Buggy always wanted a check in. From letting him know what happened while he was doing other duties, to telling you some previous journeys that he and his crew had been, to embellishing the stories of the day.

It was nice having a captain who actually cared about what you were writing. Most had just left you to your own devices and didn’t much care for your craft beyond the fact it made them look good. But Buggy actually wants to listen to your words and he provides some actual good feedback (admittedly in a sea of crazy unbelievable ideas, but the point still stands).

Journals and pens tucked under your arms you navigate to the captain’s quarters, finally feeling comfortable navigating the large ship after walking this route twice a day. It’s not that long before you’re knocking on the large door and hear Buggy’s voice, muffled through the wood.

“C’mon in.”

You push through the door and see Buggy behind his desk, face laying sideways on a pile of paper. You take a seat across from him.

“You alright?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“Being a captain is not all fun and games my dearest chronicler.” He pushes back on the desk, flopping back in his large seat and swinging his feet up on the desk, knocking over the papers in the process. “Responsibility is a heavy burden to bear.”

You look over the mounds of untouched paper work that have been sitting there since you first arrived. “Seems like it.”

“But now you are here to save me. Tell me my story weaver- what is the tale of the day.” When he looks at you you know you have his undivided attention. There was something so fulfilling about capturing his attention, something you’ve learned is so finicky and flighty. But for you? He’s never been distracted.

“Well, it’s been a pretty standard day.” You go into every detail that matters- what acts were practiced, who's flirting with who, what crew member Richie managed to bite a finger off of- that kind of stuff.

“You know- we should have a whole section where we track body parts Richie has eaten and see how many full people can be put together with the parts.” Buggy adds as you finish up your recap and you huff a laugh as you write that down.

“I think we’ll have a lot of spare fingers.” You point out.

“Good point. Full bodies and hands.” Slightly more sensible… kind of.

“Got it. I’ll start logging and asking around for people who have lost limbs to Richie.” You make the note and you see out of the edges of your vision as Buggy’s legs come off the desk and he leans over, getting a bit closer to you.

“Y’know I’ve told you many stories already- what about you?” His head settles in his hands, perched up by his elbows.

“What do you mean what about me?” You tilt your head, genuinely confused.

“Your stories! You said you were the chronicler for a few ships before mine, you must have had some adventures out on the great wide East Blue.”

“Ah, well… no.” You admit a bit awkwardly.

“No?” Buggy raises his eyebrows, clearly looking for more.

“I was just a chronicler. I didn't really do anything on the previous ships I worked on. Hell, you’re the first captain who actually wants to hear about what I’m writing. For everyone else it was just an ego trip to have someone writing for them…” Your pen slips into your journal as a placeholder as you close it and pull it close to your lap.

“That’s…” Buggy frowns. “What losers! Most pirates won’t know talent if it slaps them in the face.”

You try to bite back your smile but it’s pretty ineffective. “You’re very kind captain.”

“You’re going to have to learn to take some compliments because with my crew? We are going all the way to the top and your stories of our journeys are going to be known across all four seas!” As he talked he stood up, wildly gesturing as he talked about his grand plan.

When other captains of yours had talked about getting the One Piece it had always annoyed you for some reason. The hunt for fame and money was… well it was cliche. But there was something about the earnestness that Buggy talked with- the grand scale he always thought on that made you believe it.

“Well, I guess I will have to work on that.” You say as you look up at him.

“Yes. Captain’s orders.” He hops up to sit on his desk just adjacent to you. His right foot lightly knocks against the side of your left calf.

“Then I’ll have to do it.” You smile wide, his energy was infectious.

“But seriously, not a single story? There has to be one fun thing you can tell me.”

“I guess… there was this one time-“

You break into a small, stupid story but Buggy hangs on your every word. The second you’re done he shares a similar experience and you go back and forth like this for hours, journal where you were supposed to write these things down long forgotten. Somewhere along the way you both ended up sitting on the floor, leaned up against the desk and legs side by side as you both gesture wildly through your stories. You don’t know how long this goes on, but when you feel yourself fighting to open your eyes after you blink you think it might be way late.

“I should get to bed.” You nudge Buggy’s shoulder with your own, working up the strength to stand up.

“Oh yeah it’s like-“ His hand detaches and he grabs something off his desk before bringing it down to his face. “Oh shit- 3 already?”

“Wow-“ You look at the clock he grabbed and sure enough, 3:21 am. “Yeah I really need to get to bed. You too, captain.”

You get up with a grunt of effort and once you’re standing you turn around and offer up your hand to help Buggy up. There’s an awkward pause as he looks up at you and he must be just as tired as you are with how long it takes for him to clasp his hand in yours and pull himself up.

“See you tomorrow night captain.” You squeeze his hand before letting go and walking out the door.

You’re not sure why you feel a low buzz in your body, nerves up from some unknown source. It’s not a gnawing anxiety… something else you can’t place. No matter what the second your head hits the pillow you’re out like a light, body getting ready for another long day.

The Buggy Clowns were weirdly affectionate. Not all of them, mind you, you don’t think you’ll ever get Cabaji to even smile at you, but the camaraderie they have is intimate. Most of the time not in a sexual way (though you’d be remiss to ignore the raunchier performers in the circus), but in friendliness and touchiness. Never before have you been on such an affectionate crew.

Every time you put more than 10 seconds into your appearance you got hoots and hollers from most of the crew members. When you grab lunch in the mess people fight over who gets to sit with you and be documented. Even Richie has a soft side- you’ve managed to pet him without adding a body part to the now running list.

It’s been a few months now and they still fight over you at meals- a quirk you would have thought would die out long ago. Everyone is eager to tell you about their day and try and loop you into spending the rest of the day with them. Today the tightrope walkers win out- or at least they think so. Secretly you’ve made a schedule for when you follow each group and no one has caught onto your pattern yet. But it makes it easy for you and makes it so no one is favored.

But when they cheer and lean into you, arms wrapped around your shoulders you still feel like shrinking away in embarrassment. It’s not bad- you can’t deny the little ego boost it gives you- but there’s something that always makes your face burn. But all that is nothing compared to Buggy.

You quickly figure out that, like all crew attitudes, it trickles down from the top.

Of course Buggy isn’t going around hugging crew members (when he’s sober) and he does lose his temper often, but there’s also a softness to him. He’s got nicknames for everyone, and everyone gets their time in the spotlight. He personally reviews all the circus acts and when someone wants to do something new it’s rare he says no.

Everyone in the crew is a misfit, but because of that, no one is. A group of people who have never felt respected or wanted before suddenly find themselves belonging- it makes sense why everyone was surprisingly warm. But you still have a hard time handling it, especially when it comes to Buggy.

It’s the damn nicknames.

Story weaver, dearest chronicler, writing star. And the worst part? It’s always his.

My story weaver.

My star.

Never in a tone that makes you feel owned or degraded- quite the opposite really. You’re treasured, respected, seen. It’s been too long since you felt that way and the reblooming of those emotions was… uncomfortable.

But you don’t think you’d ever want it to stop.

“My lovely chronicler-“ It’s Buggy who suddenly throws you out of your thoughts with affection and a hand on your shoulder. “I have to cancel our meeting tonight.”

“What? Why?” You want to kick yourself for sounding even slightly hurt.

“Not your fault- turns out I’m a few days behind on planning out supply orders for when we dock tomorrow.” By a few days you know he means he hasn’t thought about supplies since they last docked.

“Oh, well, do you need help?” The second you finish your sentence you feel a light elbow in your side from one of the tightrope walkers but before you can turn to look at him your attention is grabbed by a clap from Buggy.

“Great! See you tonight!” He says, already walking away.

You turn to the source of the elbow. “What was that for?”

“I’m sorry, you totally just got suckered into doing all his paper work.” He says apologetically.

“Yeah, he’s done this with just about every crew member. You’re the only one who doesn’t know his trick.” Another one explains.

“Well, he is the captain, he could just make one of us do it.” You say, still very confused about this whole situation.

“Yeah, but then he has to admit that he messed up and needs someone else to do his work. This way he is just, I don’t know, reveling in his crew’s generosity.” Yeah, that sounds like him.

“I’m not going to get any sleep tonight am I.”

“Nope.” You get a few reassuring pats on the back as you slump onto the table.

“Captain?” Later in the day you knock on his door and come in at his usual ‘come in’.

You walk in and see papers everywhere. There’s no organization, no sense that he’s actually began to work on anything, just papers on almost every flat surface you can see. You don’t think half of these are relevant to what needs to be done.

“My darling most beloved star.” Buggy calls from behind his desk. He’s laying it on thick so you don’t run away.

“Did one of your bombs explode in here?” You carefully walk over to his desk, hopping over random papers on your way.

“Yes?” It’s obvious he’s lying.

“Well… I guess we have our work cut out for us.” You make it across from him and start looking at papers, trying to find some sense.

“Yes. I trust you implicitly- now I’m just going to go-“ He stands up and you glare at him.

“You’re not going anywhere.” You’re a little annoyed, but there’s no real malice in your words. Despite that, Buggy still shrinks back.

“But you’ve got this.” He says, confidence quickly draining from his voice.

“It would go a lot faster if we work together. Come on. We will start by organizing. Figure out what actually needs to be done for tomorrow and go from there.” You gesture to the mess on his desk before you get to work on the papers discarded on the floor.

“But-“

“No.” You cut him off without even looking at him- you know he’s using his puppy dog eyes.

“Fine.” He grumbles and you hear the shift of papers that tells you he’s at least pretending to do something.

It takes you hours to get everything sorted but after that the actual work doesn’t take that long. You have a pretty good knowledge of what supplies everyone needs and the average use of those supplies in a day- you write it all down typically. All in all you’re done and dusted just before midnight, an accomplishment really.

Buggy is moping at his desk, the reward of a job well done isn’t really enough for him after he actually had to put in some effort. You’ve set up a schedule for him too- something he’ll probably ignore but you’re pretty hopeful.

“That’s it right?” His voice is partially muffled by his face being smooshed down into the wood of his desk.

“Yes, we are all done for the night.” You reply, straightening out the last stack of files on his desk.

“Yay.” His voice is flat and devoid of all joy.

“You’re pretty childish for a captain, you know that?” You take a seat across the desk, not quite ready to leave.

“That’s part of my charm darling.” He lifts his face so his chin is resting on the desk.

Darling.

That was a new one.

“It’s not your best feature but I guess it is a part of your whole deal.” You admit, still trying to shake off the weird stirring of emotions from the new pet name.

He perks up instantly, sitting up in his chair. “What’s my best feature?”

“Hm?”

“You said it’s not my best feature, which implies you know my best feature. What is it?” His smile is wide, matching his face paint.

“Ah-“ Well. You know exactly what his best feature is but you hesitate to say. It’s not what a pirate captain typically wants to hear but… well he’s anything but typical.

“I think your best feature is that you care. Genuinely. You yell and stomp around at the crew but you always make sure all of our needs are met. To some people finding the One Piece is just the thing pirates do but you care with every fiber of your being. When you want to do something, really want to do it, you throw yourself into it for better or for worse. Your risks end up paying off more often than not and I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

There’s an awkward pause where Buggy’s smile drops a bit and he stares at you and you think that you’ve fucked up. He is still a pirate captain with an ego and not telling him that his strength or intellect was his best feature was a dumb mistake. But then he coughs, a fake awkward cough and you’re not sure what’s going on.

“Oh that’s- yeah- I mean what am I if not the best captain to work for in all of the seas.” The smile returns to his face but there’s something you can’t place and you feel like you’ve misstepped.

“It’s late- I should go-“ You stand up and quickly head to the door but Buggy’s voice stops you right before you exit.

“Hey-“ You turn and look at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” There’s more hovering in the space between you but none of it can be put into words.

You leave.

Even if the Buggy pirates were worlds different from any other crew you had worked with they still party like every other pirate crew after a victory. Just a little more explosive. Literally.

You had never seen fireworks before so you were laying down on an upper deck while the loud party raged a few decks down, reveling in the bright and colorful explosions that shattered across the sky. You know Buggy made them all himself, he was surprisingly talented in pyrotechnics. It was overwhelming to your senses in the way that Buggy often was-

You’ve found yourself thinking more and more about him recently. You don’t want to think about what that means so you just shove those things down and focus on the shimmering colors dancing around the sky.

Until, of course, your captain finds you.

“My star! We are all missing our chronicler at the party!” His head peaks up over the ladder as he calls to you but you wave a dismissive hand.

“I’m just enjoying the fireworks, I’ll be down later.” You say, perched up on your elbows.

Buggy pulls himself all the way up the ladder before walking over and taking a seat next to you. “I’m glad someone is enjoying all my hard work.”

“I’d never seen fireworks before tonight.” You admit, laying back down fully.

“Really? Well I’m glad I could introduce you.” He lays down as well, only a few inches separating you two as you both lay flat on your backs.

“It’s- I mean I have no idea how you do it. It’s seriously magic.” You turn your head to look at him, admiring the profile of his face under the multicolored lights of the fireworks.

“It’s all chemicals and patience. I know, surprising that I have that.” He looks at you, a sly smile on his face.

“There really is nothing our fearless captain can’t do when he puts his mind to it.” You half joke, nudging his arm with your elbow. “But really- how do you get all those different colors?”

“Well-“

As the different fireworks explode in the sky he tells you the different chemicals he used to get the respective colors and effects. Somewhere in the explanations and pointing he’s right next to you, arms and thighs pressed together. You can’t help but lean into his warmth against the cool wind of the sea.

“I guess there will have to be a chapter on fireworks in your chronicle.” You say after the fireworks slowly die out, all of them used up by now.

“You can just slide that chapter in when things get too boring. Wake readers up with an explosion!” His hand gestures over both of your bodies.

“I’m not sure there will be any time where your story will be too boring. I’m pretty sure just by being a clown pirate you’re always interesting.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see Buggy turn his face towards yours. In turn you move your face as well, and you can feel his warm breath fan over your face.

He’s really quite beautiful in the moonlight.

“Do you really think that?” He asks, so quiet you almost don’t hear him over the low drone of the party below.

“Of course.” You answer automatically.

“I uh-“ You see a panic set over his face and you wonder if you’ve done something wrong. He sits up and you sit up in turn, confusion on your face.

“I should get back down to the party. It’s been-“ He stands up and practically trips over his own feet. “Nice.”

You watch him quickly descend the ladder and you’re suddenly very aware of how cold it is out on the deck at night.

You’re not sure what you did, but you messed something up.

You stop having your nightly meetings. It’s once a week now and he blames it on the recent partnership with Alvida and her crew but you know there’s something else. You got too comfortable with your captain and distance had to be created. You were disrespectful and you needed to learn your place.

You weren’t his anymore.

Chronicler, sure. Star, sometimes. You almost despised when he used your actual name. The burning feeling of being discarded weighs in your chest every time you see him.

It was only after how painful and hard you took the slightest bit of rejection that you realized you might have feelings for your captain. Stupid inappropriate feelings. You hadn’t put the label on it before, pushing any feelings down into the pit of your gut but with how quickly they turned sour you couldn’t help but feel them rise up and burn your throat.

Stupid how you realize these things too late.

Because now there’s a new crew, a new partnership, and plenty of shiny new objects for Buggy to be enamored with. None of them you.

You still did your job through- dutifully chronicling each day. Your emotions will pass and this job is still far and away the best you’ve ever landed. You won’t throw it away over a stupid unrequited crush.

It’ll pass.

Someday.

But today isn’t that day as a pang rings through your chest as you see Buggy loop an arm around Alvida’s shoulder and pull her in close. You know there’s nothing going on between the two of them (you’re fairly confident Alvida doesn’t swing that way) but seeing him pay attention to someone else the way he paid attention to you-

You sounded like a child didn’t you.

You were just about to excuse yourself from the area when Buggy spots you and calls you over with a quick shout of your title. Taking a deep breath you steel yourself and put on a smile before walking over.

“Yes captain?” You say, overly formal as you hold your journal close.

“I was thinking maybe you could do a few weeks with the Alvida pirates, you know, get a better look at their side of things! Wrap them into the story of the Genius Jester!” He gestured grandly with his free hand.

“Oh, well, if that’s okay with captain Alvida…” You look towards the dark haired woman who shrugs.

“I’ve never had a chronicler before so I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing what it’s all about.”

“Great! Our perfect partnership continues!” Buggy looks at you. “How’s a month sound?”

A month. He wants to get rid of you for a whole month. You swallow down your emotions. “When have I ever not followed my captain’s orders?”

“You are a loyal crew member. And it’s not like you aren’t going to see all of your crew mates! It’s just shifting focus for a bit.” It’s true, both crews frequently overlap ships but you know you’re going to be glued to that gaudy pink ship (not that the ship you were currently on wasn’t gaudy, just a different kind).

“Fine by me captain.” You say, making your voice as cheerful as possible.

“Great.”

“Good.”

There’s a long pause where the two of you are just standing there, Alvida casting glances to both of you.

“Well if that’s all I’ll go pack some of my things for my stay.” You say, already taking a step backwards.

“Yes, good idea! Always taking initiative!” He waves goodbye and you turn around as fast as possible, walking at a brisk pace when you really want to run.

Working with Alvida wasn’t bad at all. You checked in with her once a week and she was pretty receptive to your work, provided you added in a lot of extra pages about how beautiful she was. At first it was annoying, but once you got used to it she was surprisingly nice to you.

You were two weeks into your month with her and she was already asking you about how to hire her own chronicler. It was rewarding to know that you’ve done a good enough job so far that she would seek out someone like you. You were working hard, trying to shift your focus from your emotions into something more productive.

It didn’t work.

Every day you found yourself looking around the decks hoping to catch a glimpse of your captain visiting. He was never there.

You saw plenty of your other crew mates- both crews frequented both ships as you sailed together. It was nice having that familiarity, but the reminder that you were specifically sent away while they got to go back to their ship every night stung.

“Ah, chronicler.” Alvida’s voice shook you out of your thoughts, having zoned out while recording what the meals were for the day in the kitchen.

“Hello Alvida, was there something you needed?” Your finger slipped into your journal as a placeholder as you turned your attention to her.

“Yes. I just finished discussing some business with Buggy and your good work came up.” You couldn’t help but puff up a bit- You did want him to know you were still exceeding at your job. “And then he made me an offer that I’d like to extend to you. He said if I wanted you full time I had his permission, so. Would you like to be my chronicler?”

There’s a full 30 seconds that you have to take to process the words that were said to you and come up with a response that doesn’t sound like your heart just got shattered into a million pieces.

“Oh wow, that’s quite the offer I- uh-“ Your mind is struggling to work under the weight of your emotions and Alvida catches on that you’re overwhelmed.

“It’s a big change so you can take some time to think about it. Just come to me when you have your answer.” She gives you a curt nod before heading off, leaving you with your spiraling thoughts.

You manage to hold back your tears until you’re at you bunk, burying your face in your pillow to catch your flow of tears. There was something so painful about being shipped off to someone else, being so unwanted he couldn’t stand to work with you anymore. You’re not even sure what you did wrong which might be the most frustrating part.

If you could lead this all back to one action you took maybe you could make it better- maybe you could go back.

But you didn’t.

You know when you’re not wanted.

Later that day you knock on Alvida’s door and accept her offer. All your stuff is already on her ship so you don’t ever have to step foot on Buggy’s ship ever again.

It’s easier that way.

A month has gone by of officially being the chronicler of the Alvida pirates. It’s… fine. Painfully fine. Perfectly average.

You stop wearing bright colors, swapped out for the pinks and reds that cover the ship. You still keep your old clothes, tucked away in a box that also has the journal you used to chronicle your time the the Buggy pirates. The sequins and stripes keep it safe and far away from you, letting you pull back at the last second before you obsessively repour over the pages to find where you went wrong.

You were getting better.

You stopped crying every night, you stopped longing looking over the bow at Buggy’s ship, you stopped searching for him whenever your old crew came over.

The lingering feelings will pass soon, and you eagerly count down the days until your heart patches itself up and moves on.

It was easy to ignore your emotions during a storm. All your energy focused on locking up your stuff and going where you were needed- you were a chronicler but all hands on deck meant all hands.

It was a nasty storm- lighting and high waves bashing against the hull repeatedly and ruthlessly. You were down below deck, sent on your own to grab emergency medical supplies from deep storage, two crew members had already broken bones and there were probably going to be countless other injuries before the storm let up. Boxes shoved in your arms you were making your way back up to the medical bay when you heard it- the sound you never want to hear below deck.

The sound of wood breaking.

You hear the hit of a strong wave before the groaning of wood and then that dreaded sound. You only have a second to process it before you hear the flood of seawater rushing in. Dropping the boxes you quickly jump to the ladder, scrambling up as you hear water flooding in behind you.

You make it up the ladder and halfway to the next one before the next wave hits. Your world jolts under you and you’re flung to the floor and the back of your head hits the deck- hard.

Your vision swims as you feel sea water rushing over your body and you push yourself up, ignoring the nausea overwhelming your senses. You crawl to the ladder, water threatening to grab and pull you under. Grasping the rung of the ladder you try to pull yourself up before your realize just how hurt you must be.

The pain, the blurry vision, you barely have control over your body. There’s no way you can pull yourself up the ladder. The sea was going to take you and you didn’t have the senses about you to swim. It was over.

You hang your head, watching the water swell up around your body as you wonder if all your works will go missing to the sea. Maybe there will be nothing left of you. Or maybe someone will find your journal- just dry enough that the words haven’t dissolved and run together. Maybe someone will remember you.

Somewhere in the distance someone shouts your name.

You’re confident it’s your addled mind playing tricks on you until it’s louder and right above you- loud and frantic. You look upwards and see Buggy, rain soaked and panicked.

Now you’re really confident you’re seeing things.

“Grab my hand!” He lays down on the deck above you and extends his hand and everything becomes real painfully fast.

“Get out of here! The water- You can’t-“ You yell out, head throbbing.

“I said grab my hand! Captain’s orders!” He shouts and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him so serious.

Gathering up all the strength in your body you pull yourself up a few rungs until you can reach out and grab his hand, quickly being violently pulled up the rest of the way.

“Can you walk?” He asks, yanking you up to your feet. You fall into his body, answering his question for him. “Alright.”

Suddenly one of his arms is under your knees and the other is around your shoulders and you’re being carried, your vision obscured by Buggy’s clothes. It’s better that way, you think hazily, to see him and not your death waiting to swallow you up. Maybe it’s a trick your mind is playing and you’re down in that lower deck, knocked out and drowning. But as you curl up against him and your thoughts fade to nothingness it’s a trick you’re willing to accept.

If your last thoughts are of him it’s not a bad way to go.

You wake up with a start- jolting up in bed before realizing how much that sudden action hurts. Your hand flies to the back of your head and you realize it’s been bandaged up.

“Hey- take it easy.” Eyes flicking up you see Buggy standing up from a chair in the corner of your room.

Your room- back on Buggy’s ship.

“You really should lay back down.” He’s a few steps closer now and in the dimmed light of the room you can finally get a good look at him.

He looks like shit. Dark circles under his eyes, he probably hasn’t shaved in a few days, and his normal face paint is missing. He’s down to just his vest and pants, normal bright accessories missing.

The memories of the ship sinking come rushing back to you and a panic sets into your chest. “Wait what happened- the ship- the crew-“

“Hey, hey, it’s alright calm down.” He sits down on the bed and takes one of your hands in his. “Alvida’s ship sank, but we managed to get everyone out and on here before she went down.”

Your breathing evens out and you relax a bit. “Good.”

“We were calling everyone to get on board here right when you had left to go grab supplies- you were missing so I came and got you.” He explains, putting the remaining pieces together for you.

“You-“

“Just wanted to make sure you woke up alright so now I-“ He drops your hand and stands up. “Will go.”

He gets to the door before your words stop him.

“You shouldn’t have done that. It was- you could have easily died. You can’t swim and you didn’t even-“ You screw your eyes shut, brain still putting itself back together from the hard hit.

“Captain’s duties.” He explains shortly, hand still on the doorknob and not looking at you.

“Yeah but, you’re not my captain. You made it painfully clear you did not want to be my captain.” You swing your feet off the bed, glaring holes into his back as weeks of repressed emotions come leaking out the broken and battered seams.

“It’s not like that-“ He says, forehead meeting the wood of your door.

“Then what is it like then? Because I’m just confused and hurt! I don’t understand!” Your hands fist in the sheets of your bed as tears well up in your eyes.

“Please don’t-“ He turns around and you see the hurt in his eyes. “Don’t cry.”

“Then tell me what I did wrong!” You shout, hot tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Nothing. You did nothing wrong.” He wrings his hands and looks down at the floor. “You’re too- you’re too good for me.”

The words ring in the dim space and confusion comes over your already frazzled mind. “What?”

“You- okay.” He takes a deep breath and shift from foot to foot. “You have this grand idea of who I am. You think I’m smart and caring and a good captain and that’s just not true. I’m not any of those things. I’m just a huge faker. I was never meant to be a captain- I just keep doing it because I have to.”

You look over his anxious form and finally see what he’s been hiding under all those flashy clothes and bright face paint. He was truly and painfully insecure.

You go to stand up, slipping off the bed to try and land on your feet but your vision blurs and you slip and you’re sure you’re going to crack your head on the floor again. But before you can land your being held, Buggy’s hands having quickly detached and grabbed you. The rest of his body runs over only seconds later, connecting his hands back and placing you delicately back on your bed.

You’re sitting up again, Buggy anxiously standing next to the bed as he looks over your body, checking to make sure you’re okay. This time you reach out, taking Buggy’s hand despite the fact you can see him wanting to run away again.

“Buggy, you’re really stupid sometimes.” You see his face shift into pure confusion and you elaborate. “I don’t think those things because of all the acts you put on- I think those things because that’s what I really think after spending so much time with you. I know who you are, don’t think I don’t.”

Buggy practically collapses, sitting next to you on the bed. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” You grip harder on his hand, pulling yourself closer to him.

“Because I don’t want to disappoint you.” He admits, his voice cracking under his emotions.

“You- all this time- Buggy, look at me.” You pull at his hand, urging him to follow your directive.

He does and you see all the emotions you’ve been feeling swirling in his eyes. “I care about you. And I don’t care if you think you’ll disappoint me! I just want you.”

You feel something break as you stare into each others eyes and in a flash he’s on you- lips pressing harshly against yours. He’s messy and harsh and frantic as he overwhelms you and you let him. Your freehand tangles in his hair and holds his head close. Neither of you break the kiss until you absolutely need to, pulling away gasping for air as spit still connects the two of you.

“Do you mean it?” He whispers, forehead pressed against yours.

“Did it feel like I meant it?” You grin, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I don’t know… I might have to check again.” You see a smile creep back onto his face and you pull him in again.

He kisses you like a man starved, eagerly throwing himself into you. He nips at your lips, pulling playfully as he slides on top of you, your body sliding down into the bed in turn. You can’t tell if his hands are attached to his body or not as you feel them wandering your skin, pushing up under the hem of your shirt and grabbing onto your waist. You whine into his mouth and he pulls away quickly.

“Did I- sorry is this too fast we can-“ You shut him up by pulling him in for a quick kiss.

“I want more.” You say against his lips and he nods so furiously you think his head might fall off.

His lips trail down, kissing where your jaw and throat meet. As he does so you feel a deft hand undo the fastenings on your pants and sliding into them, plunging past the hem of your underwear and to your folds. Your hips buck up as his fingers ghost over you and you hear him chuckle.

“Don’t laugh at me!” You lightly hit his back, unable to stop smiling.

“I’m not, I’m not.” He claims, but you know otherwise. It’s hard to be mad at him though when his fingers pry open your folds and he sucks in a breath when he finally dips in. “Fuck you’re wet.”

“All for-“ You’re cut off by your own moan as two fingers press into you. “All for you.”

His motions still for a second before he’s biting into your neck as his fingers sink all the way into you. “Can’t just say that stuff. Fuck you don’t know what you do to me.”

You feel him grind up against your leg and that sends a thrill through you and you push further. “Missed you so much- thought about you every day-“

“My lovely star-“ He breathes into your skin, fingers pumping in and out of you.

“That- I missed that. Missed you calling me yours.” You admit through moans as his fingers stretched you out.

All of a sudden his fingers are pulling out and you whine as he sits up. In a flash hands are tugging your shirt up and off your body while he shimmies down your bed. Once your shirt is discarded he can pull down your pants, hands smoothing over your thighs. He takes a few moments to just look at you and your face heats up.

“See you still need to learn how to take a compliment.” He jokes as he lays back down, pushing apart your thighs so he can settle between them.

“This is not the same.” You try and argue, your hand drifting to his bright blue hair as he kisses up the inside of your thighs.

“Whatever you say.” You want to argue further but all coherent thoughts leave your brain when you feel his breath on your folds.

You feel his fingers spread you apart before he dives in, tongue eagerly lapping up your slick. Your hand fists in his hair as he pushes his tongue into you, the thick muscle a welcome sensation. When his tongue leaves you, you whine but it quickly dissolves into a moan as he wraps his lips around your clit.

“Fuck- Buggy- Just like that!” You buck your hips up into his mouth and you feel his fingers slip back into you.

He listens, repeating the motion and adding a third finger inside you. His other hand comes around to the back of your leg, hiking it up over his shoulder so he can have better access. His tongue swirls between your clit and thrusting in with his fingers. As your orgasm builds up you pull tighter at his hair in warning and you feel him groan into your folds. The vibration against your clit edges you ever closer so you pull again, not missing the way his hips jerk up against the bed as you do.

He sucks on your clit as his fingers curl inside you and the dam breaks, orgasm washing over you. Buggy slowly pulls his fingers out of you but you still feel his tongue on you, lapping up your slick as you come down.

You gently pull on his hair, urging him to come closer to you. He gets the message, sliding up your body until he’s face to face with you, his lips and chin glistening with your juices.

“Can I repay the favor?” You ask, your hands sliding down his body until he shakes his head.

“Baby- if I even see you on your knees in front of me I’m going to blow my load before I can get inside you.” His confession makes your skin run hot as you surge up to him, kissing him deeply.

“Then get inside me.” You say when you finally pull away, your own taste lingering in your mouth.

“Oh, who’s the captain now?” He grins as he slides off the bed to quickly take off his vest and pants.

You can’t help but stare at his cock, long and curved and you need it inside you now. He sees you staring at it’s the ego boost he needs as he crawls back in bed, slotting his hips between your thighs. His hand guides his tip to rub against your clit and you whine impatiently. He chuckles but lines himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing in.

“You’re so- warm- tight- fuck-“ Buggy thrusts into you despite himself, every inch of him inside you all at once and you practically scream his name.

“Can’t help myself baby you feel-“ His body covers yours as he mouths at your collarbone and throat and whatever skin he can find. “So much better than I thought.”

“You thought about me?” You manage out, breathless.

“Every damn day and night I-“ His thrusts are erratic but you can’t bring yourself to care when he’s still making you feel so good. “Sometimes, after you left our meetings I’d- I’d touch myself the second you left I couldn’t stop imagining you on my desk I- fuck-“

Knowing he thought about you like that did things to you and you drag your nails down his back and hook your legs around his waist, unable to verbalize through your moans. You can tell he’s close already, the throb of his cock and the way his filthy words are getting increasingly slurred. You’re close too, and you reach up and grab Buggy’s hand, urging it down to your sensitive bud. He takes the direction well, his thumb rubbing right circles that make you see stars.

“Where- I’m so close-“ He chokes out and as he goes to pull out you clench your legs tighter, trapping him inside you.

“Fill me up, please Buggy.” You whine and that’s it for him.

You feel hot ropes of cum fill you up as he groans into your neck. He manages to still work your clit so it’s only a few moments after him that you’re orgasming again, milking every drop of cum out of him. Breathless, he collapses on top of you, softening cock still in you.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him tight as though letting him go means he’d drift away from you again. He nuzzled into your neck and must sense that somethings up.

“‘m not gonna be that stupid again.” He says, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Not gonna let you go.”

“I’m your chronicler again?” You ask, voice weak with emotions.

“Until the end of time.” He promises, and you trust him completely.

[xotaemintol]

Can you do Haechan and a female reader where he’s away on tour and the reader calls while he’s touching himself so he masturbates to her voice? (Can he also be a little like submissive?) thank you 💖

omg my first Haechan ask!! Ofc I can sorry if it’s too short btw I could do a longer version if it’s wanted 🤭

DONGHYUCK x FEM READER

NSFW//PHONE SEX (m!solo masturbation) //MINORS GO AWAY

“What are you doing right now? Why can’t I see you?” Haechan knew he probably should’ve let his phone ring, he shouldn’t have answered in such a state but the temptation was just too much. The moment his phone began to ring and the video of you had paused his hand stopped moving right away and his body jerked—he felt unbelievably sensitive and because he hadn’t seen you in so long he was practically dying of touch starvation. Before he could see that it was you he rolled his eyes and went to swipe the notification banner away, but then he read your name…how could he pass up the opportunity to cum to the sound of your voice in real time? Sure he has videos of you that he could easily get off to, but this felt so much better. “Right now?” He responded with a shaky voice, “Uhm…I was…laying down, but…I decided to jog…” You laughed, the sound of your breathy giggle made his cock twitch in his hand.

“You’re jogging? Your location says otherwise, if you were sleeping then you could’ve just said so” , “I could call you back later if you want.” Haechan responded quickly with a hasty answer; “N-No!” His voice cracked as he urged you not to hang up. He didn’t want to give himself away just yet, he wanted this to last a little longer before it became obvious that he was being perverted. “I missed you…I missed you so much baby,” His words drag towards the end and his breathing is labored, he can’t see you but he imagines the look on your face paired with the sound of your beautiful voice responding in a flirty manner; “I missed you too baby.” He moves his hand faster, his hips buck and chills go up his spine. It’s times like this that make him feel like the most greedy man on the planet—just hearing your voice wasn’t enough, he wanted to see you too. In real time. “Can I see your face babe? I-I missed seeing you so much.”

Again you laugh lightly before turning your camera on for him, without giving him a warning about your outfit or lack thereof. The moment he saw your beautiful face and your upper body exposed—hardly covered by your bath towel, his cover was blown. A desperate moan leaves his mouth, his voice is so much louder than he expected it to be and he can’t help but whine. Your eyes go wide and you cover your mouth expecting him to apologize right away or try his hardest to explain the sound he made, but instead they continue as he desperately fucks his hand; wishing that it was you. “Hyuck! Are you jerking off?!” He only continues, his stomach clenching as his head falls back into his pillows. His eyes slowly close as they roll back, it’s almost pathetic how quickly he’s reduced to a needy mess the moment he starts missing you. “Fuck…baby…I…” He swallows his spit and tries to keep his eyes open to look at you since he knows he’s getting close, but even the slightest glimpse of you has him rolling his eyes in pleasure. “Oh god…I miss you so much…fuck…” It didn’t take him long to finish, ribbons of cum cover his hand, and lower abdomen as he mindlessly babbles on and on about how badly he wants to be inside of you.

[howlingday]

Leader, You Peeerv~!

Jaune: (Thinking) Hm... I think this is the first time I've ever eaten alone.

Jaune: (Door opens behind him) I knew it was too good to stay like this. Here comes Nor-

Yang: Wassup, Vomit Boy~!

Ruby: Wassup, wassup~!

Jaune: NOT THEM AGAIN!.

Yang: Soooo, this is the legendary solo lunch I've been hearing about?

Ruby: Eating lunch alone~! Poor Mr. Leader~!

Jaune: It's none of your business...

Yang: (Sits across from him)

Ruby: (Sits across from him)

Jaune: ...

Yang: (Grins)

Ruby: (Grins)

Jaune: (Drinks) Nora isn't even here, so why are they staying? I wish they would leave already...

Yang: Hey, Vomit Boy, you ever squeezed a boob before?

Jaune: (Sputters, Coughs)

Yang: HA! I KNEW I COULD GET A GOOD REACTION OUT OF YOU, VOMIT BOY!

Ruby: TOO FUNNY~!

Jaune: Wh- Why are you asking me that?

Yang: You're just a pervert in sheep's clothing, aren't you?

Ruby: HA HA HA!

Jaune: I am not!

Yang: Oh, Vomit Boy, you're a virgin and you've never squeezed a boob before? How sad for you.

Ruby: Pitiful~!

Jaune: (Looks away)

Ruby: Ready?

Yang: Yeah.

Yang: Hey, Vomit Boy... WANNA FEEL MINE~?

Jaune: (Blushing)

Yang: Well~?

Jaune: (Scarfs down food, Jumps away)

Yang: HE'S GETTING AWAY!

Ruby: AFTER HIM~!

Jaune: (Tackled, Pinned by Ruby) L-LET ME GO!

Yang: (Holds out chest to him) Well, I'm waiting, Vomit Boy~!

Ruby: Do it, do it, do it~!

Yang: (Leans closer) C'mon, c'mon~!

Ruby: (Holding Jaune's wrist) Come on already~!

Jaune: Stop! S-Stop! What is wrong with you girls?!

Jaune: (Squish~!) AAAAAAAAAAAAGH!

Yang/Ruby: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA~!

Jaune: Th-They... They forced me to be a pervert!.

Jaune: Wait, but... something didn't feel right.

Yang: (Reaches into blouse, Pulls out)

Jaune: Burgers?!.

Yang: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA~! THE LOOK ON YOUR FACE~! You were probably thinking you were a man now because you touched my boobs, but NOPE! It was burgers! I would never let a pervert like you touch my boobs, Vomit Boy!

Ruby: NEVER~! EVER~!

Jaune: ...

Nora: WHAT'S THIS I HEAR ABOUT BOOBS?

Yang: (Holding a burger)

Ruby: (Holding a burger)

Nora: WHAT'S WITH THE BURGERS, GIRLS?

Yang: ...

Ruby: ...

Yang/Ruby: (Run away)

Jaune: You really saved me back there, Nora. Thanks a l...

Nora: ...

Jaune: ...

Nora: DID YOU SQUEEZE HER BOOB?

Jaune: Huh?!

Nora: WOW. AWESOME. MUST BE GOOD FOR A CLOSET PERVERT LIKE YOU.

Jaune: What?! No, no, no! It wasn't her boob! It was a burger!

Nora: !

Nora: AHAHAHA! A burger?! So you didn't actually squeeze her boob after all?! Oh, Leader, you poor, poor thing~!

Jaune: W-Well, it's not like I wanted to do it in the first place...

Nora: Oho~? Well, then, Leader...

Nora: (Lifts arm) Can ya pinch me right here?

Jaune: Er... Why?

Nora: Do it and find out~!

Jaune: (Gulps, Pinches triceps brachii)

Nora: So~? How is it~?

Jaune: It's... soft...

Nora: Leader, don'tcha know~?

Nora: The upper arm, apparently, FEELS A LOT LIKE A BOOB~.

Jaune: A-A boob?!. (Pulls away fast)

Nora: Hehe~! Leader, you peeerv~!

--------------------------------------------------

Jaune: (Eating a burger)

Nora: (Glaring daggers at him)

[azurem]

I was thinking about Inkmare and decided to yap a bit...!!

The whole thing had started just as a way for Nightmare to get into Ink's life, disrupt it, weaken him, and make him be dependent on him. He could tell Ink cared about his job- (the way the Stars fought to save the people, Dream leading with Blue and Ink not long behind) and that he cared about his perceived uselessness. It'd be so easy to just make him feel like his usefulness didn't come from his work solo but rather from how he worked alongside his team. And of course, wouldn't Ink be so grateful? (After all, he just wasn't... as successful when fending against Error the way he once was. What a pity.) Grateful enough to trust him, at least. And as useful as the benefits of having his trust were, he'd also felt the way his brother would react to his friend's betrayal would be very... interesting.

Trust doesn't come from nowhere. For Nightmare to truly tie Ink to him, he'd need to make some effort himself. Make him smile, be a shoulder to cry to. Be a protector, and fake some vulnerability. He knew this dance well. Mortals were simple to please, and much more predictable. While the time spent on making the relationship would have been much more enjoyed had he just spent it reading, it's not like it'd be the worst thing he had to bear.

But from there... He finds that... actually spending time with Ink... Isn't that annoying? Like, he sure is a chatterbox, and may be a little too into jesting, but he's interesting to hear. Nightmare may actually wonder if anyone's ever bothered to hear him, cuz once Ink noticed Nightmare wouldn't snap at him for talking more than what's adequate, it's like he'd never stop.

Sometimes, Nightmare talked back. A question, making Ink follow a topic when he forgot what he was talking about. Some words of his, to keep the conversation going. A rhythm of their own. Surprisingly... fun.

The day Nightmare noticed he spent more time thinking about Ink's smile than not was definitely NOT fun.

He didn't make their relationship to last. Part of his original plan always included making Dream discover it by himself, and to let Ink break without anyone to support them so he and his team would pick up the pieces and rebuild him to follow.

But the idea... He had never seen Ink cry. Not ever, even when in pain. Something inside him felt itself colder with the idea of subduing him into misery. Definitely a first for him.

Nightmare was so miserable. Of course, life has wronged him once again. But he was always the one that defied fate. He wouldn't let his wishes and desires get crushed against an... Unfavorable element. Even one he created himself.

No. Of course not.

Ink's happiness (and Ink himself, if he was... honest... No, he's not flustered with the idea. Anyways.) was just another goal. One just within his reach. What's a simple courtship against multiversal conquering? What's hiding actions, words and longing stares against crushing everyone's hopes and dreams?

He'd hide this until it wouldn't be a threat to him anymore. And once it stops doing so, he'll make sure to make Ink his... king consort... CONCENTRATE. Yes. Wicked stuff. Evil stuff. He definitely can do this.

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐠𝐨 || 𝐊𝐲𝐥𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ in the middle of a ripple in the force, the girl Ben Solo accidentally cursed turns out to be the princess that Kylo Ren desperately hunts.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ age gap (I’m 20, so reader too) Kylo was 29 in TFA as far as I know, fem reader, angst and I think that’s it.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_ my Adam Driver era is beyond over, it happened in 2020 and were done. But I somehow ended up coming back to Kylo. I wrote this with bad blood remix (TV’s), so yeah… silly little me.

______________________________________________________________

All of Ben Solo’s past was long forgotten. Until he saw two girls in his dreams. A very young dirty girl in the desert. And a lookalike princess.

The dessert girl made him feel a pull to the light. The princess made him want to be a better general for the First Order, to give in everything to the dark side.

And so the time passed. Kylo Ren became stronger, and he was able to see the princess’ shadow. He had never seen her face, or so he thought. This young woman was delicate as a feather, she was gentle, all felt through a blurred vision.

He wished he could talk to her. She made him close his eyes and peacefully rest for the night. So he started trying to find her. Kylo Ren visited every galaxy to see if any of the princesses remaining alive was the girl of his dreams. But he failed continuously, and also his knights.

He just wanted to know her. He wanted to see why she made him feel safe.

…

You let the older’s woman fingers braid your hair. She finishes by scattering some little flowers across your braided hair and smiles at your reflection in the mirror.

“And done.” She says smiling.

“I highly appreciate it, Leia” You reciprocate the smile and stand up.

“I’ll let you finish getting ready, but don’t take too long. You know I hate having late people for briefings” you nod.

“I’m always on time, just let me…” you start wandering around your room, until Leia calls you, and you see her placing your mother’s crown in your head.

“Now you’re ready.”

I’m not a princess anymore.

“Wear it for her. For your loved ones… as a sign of respect” Leia says, maybe you were thinking too loud. You didn’t like being called princess, but most of the resistance did. General Organa could see herself reflected in you. A young princess that lost too.

“I miss them a great deal” you admit. It had been four years. The First Order destroyed your home planet. And you were the only survivor as General Leia Organa saved you.

“I miss her too. But that’s why you have to keep wearing the crown. As long as you remember them, they live” Your eyes water, Leia squeezed your hand in assurance.

“The force will always allow you to keep them close”

“Thank you. For everything…” she nods, smiling again, before leaving you alone.

You touch the crown. Looking at the tiny details. It was simple, undercover and very elegant after all. It was subtle, yet… it made you feel… weird.

The air changes. What felt like a warm sunny day, starts feeling like a cold cloudy dusk. You frown, looking away from the mirror. When you turn, you see a man in black robes, already looking at you, through a mask. The man of your dreams and visions. You stopped breathing, literally.

He was Kylo Ren. The Commander of the First Order. Master of the Knights of Ren. A Jedi killer…

“Who are you?” He asks, modulated and heavy voice that makes you freeze. Allowing yourself to feel scared.

Leia was right. He didn’t know about you. He didn’t remember you.

“Nobody” you answer.

“You’re a princess certainly.”

“I was one…”

“There’s still a crown on your head, Are you force sensitive?” You remain quiet, swearing to be hearing your heartbeats through your head and ears. He sounded calm, but very intimidating. Which made you feel goosebumps.

“No.”

“The force connected us then… Why?” there’s an idea of what was happening in your head. But he wasn’t able to understand it. He just knew you had to be important, if you weren’t doing it by yourself, the force picked you for something big.

“You know who I am.” He speaks again, giving a step closer, making you go backward. He noticed it.

“Everyone knows who you are.” The air feels suffocating. Your room seems to feel smaller, as the man projected inside of it was very big.

“Then you know I will find you.”

“I know.” You try to sound calm, which seems to unsettle him. You pretended very well.

“And you won’t do anything?”

“I’ll wait till that day to think about doing something” he wants to chuckle. But he can’t because he’s anxiously trying to pry more about you. He doesn’t know where you are, how old are you, who you are.

At the same time, both of you were shocked to finally face each other. After months of hearing and watching faded silhouettes of each other. It was rare…

“You should be afraid of me.” He added, walking even closer, being able to smell your perfume. He was now infatuated, totally obsessed with the idea of finding you. You felt it, which angered you. So you took your fear away and stepped further, facing his creepy mask closer.

“I won’t be scared the day you find me, Ren”

And the connection broke.

The sun was back again. The birds could be heard again. You touched your chest, as you felt in panic. You almost ran to the briefing room, praying that time would pass faster so you could have a word with Leia.

About why the force had connected you with his son.

…

Poe scratched the back of his head with his free hand. He was caressing his food tray as he approached the dining room and saw you gossiping with Connix, your best friend.

“I’m telling I don’t know. He just-“

Poe touched you and it made you jump scared. Connix let out a little startled yelp and the pilot started laughing.

“What are you talking about that has you all concentrated?” he took a seat in front of you and the girl beside you. Noticing neither of you had finished the food.

“Can you two finish your food? I don’t want any sick friend again” You started eating in silence, under the desperate look of Connix, who was practically begging you to tell Poe.

“This morning the force connected y/n with Kylo Ren” You rolled your eyes at Connix. Poe dropped his fork and looked at you in horror.

“WHAT?”

“Uh… yes, she’s right” you confirm to Poe, who looks beyond shocked.

“But.. Why?”

“I have my theories, but it doesn’t make sense” Your friends nod. And you just want to forget about the whole issue.

“He’s your space soulmate and the force wants to get you two together” You start laughing at Connix’s terrible joke and gently push her. Poe didn’t laugh.

“Connix, don’t joke about it. What if he wants to hurt her? What if he indeed wants to get together with y/n and worsens the war?” He’s right though. You sigh, focusing on your food instead.

“I need to be prepared. We’ll see each other eventually. I just feel it. But today… is all about you, my dear Poe. You and BB-8 must go and get that map. We need it…” everyone nods.

“Promise me you’ll be careful. The First Order has spies everywhere. One bad move, and they’ll be with you” Poe nods, knowing his colonel best friend was very meticulous about missions, especially when her friends were involved.

“I’ll be careful, princess y/n” You frown, and both Connix and Poe start laughing.

“I extremely hope so, Dameron”

The rest of the dinner flows fine. But you fear, about Kylo Ren discovering who you were before time.

…

Missing. That’s the only word in your head, knowing that BB-8 and Poe were missing was getting on your nerves. But Leia assured you to sleep and let her handle it. Uncomfortable, you went to bed against your own will, staring at the ceiling, questioning why it had to be such a long and weird day.

By the time you fell asleep, Poe woke up. Realizing he was at some First Order cruiser, Kylo Ren was looking at him. Poe sighed, knowing that he would likely end up hurt again.

Ren acknowledged him as the best pilot of the Resistance. Great to start.

“You have seen the map”

“And you have seen the girl,” Ren assured.

“What girl?” As soon as the pilot asked, he unveiled everything. Your connection with Ren, what you told him before talking about the mission. He accidentally gave Ren all the answers.

The map was with the droid and the girl was with the Resistance.

“Princess y/n of the fallen kingdom of Karyn and Colonel of the Resistance” Kylo Ren proudly said your name and titles. He smiled under the mask.

How he could have forgotten about Karyn and how they refused to be involved in the war. He never realized the daughters of the kings survived.

“NO!… DON’T YOU DARE TO HURT HER!” Poe yelled, trying to break the cuffs hurting him.

“I won’t, pilot. You can rest knowing that I won't hurt her” and with that, he left the cell. Only causing great pain for Poe, feeling guilty.

When Ren walked away, and when he turned to some hallway, he spotted you. He froze, there you were looking at the giant window, looking at the stars. You must be at the secret base of the resistance, but to him, you were with him. You turned, encountering him as if Kylo Ren was at the entrance of your balcony. He saw your dark blue dress and silver crown, you saw his hideous mask again.

“What have you done with my friend?” You ask.

“That rebel scum? To your luck, he is in a cell, alive.” You know he’s telling the truth.

“You must have what you need, let him go” For the first time, you noticed your height barely brushed his shoulders, he was massive, making you incapable of feeling some fear.

“I can’t, he’s a prisoner of the First Order.” You roll your eyes.

“LET HIM GO!” You yell, trying to keep calm, or else he will discover one of your little secrets.

“Don’t worry, soon or later you’ll join him. And it will be an honor to have you in my ship, Princess y/n of Karyn” you mentally cursed. He had one clue, he had opened the door to know everything to you. And he knew that you stuttered, being unable to talk. By the look on your face, he knew you were scared. And he liked it.

“Get out of my head.” And somehow, you broke the connection.

But under all the fear, you had one doubt. You wanted to know how he looked under that mask after all those years.

…

You needed to hear Poe, so as you fly with the Resistance to Takodana, you call him. You hadn’t seen him since he returned. BB-8 would be happy to see his friend there. It had been rough days. Your connection with Ren hadn’t happened again. But you constantly saw him trying to kill you along his knights in the desert. You brush away the frightening memory, hearing your dear friend calling you.

“Colonel Princess y/n, here is Poe Dameron. Permission to lead the division?” You smile widely.

“Permission granted, Dameron. Now don’t get into more trouble, I need you by my side after this?” He chuckles after some exchange of words, and he starts doing his job. You love how Poe loved to fly. He had to teach you how to fly a ship yet, but for now, you loved when he offered rides.

Your good thoughts soon are over. You turn to Leia, who’s already thinking the same as him.

“He’s here,” you say and she nods.

“Hide yourself as long as you can. But do not hide your ability to fight.” You nod, hiding your weapon in your belt, under your cape.

You join the fight and you can get rid of many stormtroopers. You see BB-8, Chewie, surprisingly Han Solo, and another boy fighting together and you want to run towards them. But a stormtrooper shoots at you. And while you were able to avoid him, others came out of nowhere. He hit your head and you almost fainted. You touched your head, hand covered in blood. Your vision was blurred and you felt how the troopers kicked you and picked you up, towards their ship.

You were too disoriented to do something, to fight. And yet, you felt him. You saw Kylo Ren carrying another woman. And when he looked at you, he left the girl and kneeled in front of you. Inspecting your wounds. You could hear his heavy breathing. But you refused to look at him.

“I said to bring me the princess, not to injure her” You keep looking at the floor, watching as some blood drops fall against the cold floor. His gloved hand caressed your temple and sent you to complete darkness, losing consciousness.

…

When you open your eyes, you are shocked to see Kylo Ren without his mask. You wanted to tear up, but you harshly refused.

“I cleaned your wounds”

“How gentle of you.” You speak, feeling your throat extremely dry.

“You must be something else. I can see anything, you are hiding your memories from me”

“Maybe you’re just not as good as you thought you were.” He makes an expression that you take as an extremely brief smile.

“Maybe you’re lying to me. Who are you, princess y/n?” He asks stepping closer. You can see his clean face with moles like you. His brown eyes and dark hair. You turn your head away from him. But he places his gloved hand on your chin, stopping you from squirming away.

“All I know is that Karyn fell years ago. Because it was one of my first missions as commander, I gave permission to attack. I remember seeing how the planet came to ashes” You turn to face him in shock, anger in your face.

“MONSTER!” You cry out in anger at his face. He killed your home, your people, your family, and your legacy.

“Let go of that, it would happen anyway. Karyn was a strong kingdom that wanted to remain isolated from the war” You let yourself cry a little.

“I assume it was Organa who saved you” You look at him with resentment, hate, and horror.

“But why you? You must be able to wield the force. You just don’t know yet. You’re being slower than the scavenger”

“So now I’m a prisoner?” Ren frowns before gently shaking his head.

“No, of course not. You’re my special guest. I'm taking you to Supreme Leader Snoke.” He said, inches away from your face. His proximity was making you even more angered rather than uncomfortable, so you looked at him deeply in his eyes. And you felt something as well as him. But both of you ignored it.

“Sir, your presence is urgently required at the command center” Two stormtroopers appeared at the door of the cell. You remained silent and the man rolled his eyes. He gave you one last look and left with the soldiers.

Maybe the mighty Kylo Ren had underestimated you because you could feel your weapon in your belt. And in less than a minute, you were out of the cell. You start moving away, and suddenly you collide in the chest of someone. Another girl, the scavenger.

“You are princess y/n,” she says excitedly. You knew she was force-sensitive, so she must’ve escaped from her cell too.

“And you must be the scavenger”

“I’m Rey. And need to get going. Han, Chewie and Finn are here. Let’s go!” She takes your hand and starts guiding you.

“Who’s Finn?” You didn't know him.

“Oh, you’ll like him. He has helped a lot” You only nodded.

“Did Ren went to see you?” Rey asks you.

“He did.”

“I can feel your connection with him. It’s weird, like you had met him before” You stop abruptly.

“I met him. He ruined my childhood” Rey is about to ask more, but she is interrupted by Finn and his friends.

“Han Solo, Chewie!” You greeted the man that you constantly saw as a kid, the Wookiee that played with you. For some minutes, you felt secure, even happy.

…

The first thing Kylo Ren saw after killing his father, was your face. You looked shocked, saddened, and enraged. You were with the scavenger and the traitor looking at what he did.

He felt your pain and in his rage, he felt even worse, he was desperate to know why the pain you felt as Han Solo died felt too personal. Like you had met him before.

Finn, Rey and you started running towards the snowy forest. You took advantage to start the Falcon and get out of there, Chewie let you know it was ready, but you heard their screams. Your friends must’ve been intercepted. So you knew it was over, Kylo Ren would know your secret, but you had to save your friends. You never asked to be a hero, but you had to act like one to succeed. You remember Karyn thought light and darkness were both the same. They were perfectly balanced and there was no beliefs on the Jedi or Sith.

You fight for them. Because they weren’t able to do so. You fight to keep being free.

Giving firm steps into the snow, they turn to look at you. Rey smiles briefly and Ren seems confused. But you take your weapon out, and you let your green lightsaber join the red of Ren and the blue of Rey.

Both seem shocked. But it takes a twist when you walk forward, giving the first attack. Kylo was taken aback by the sudden violence, but he concentred about giving a clean fight. He starts attacking back, but it seems to be more difficult for him, as it is two against one. Your ways of executing the lightsaber mixed a lot of techniques, which made it harder for Kylo to predict your next move.

Finn was heavily injured, so you tried to get close to him to help him. But it wasn’t easy.

“You and I. We’re connected, you know it.” Kylo says out of breath. Your saber collides with his, and you put all of strength to push him away.

“I can help you become more powerful” you frown. You don’t need that.

“I don’t care about power. I want to keep my freedom” you let your intrusive thoughts win. You remember what he did to you.

“You almost killed me once. Don’t you remember, Ben Solo?” In his sudden weakness at the mention of that name, Rey comes in and attacks too, you feel him get inside your head and the scavenger slides the saber against his face. You gasp in shock, almost dropping your saber.

“NO!” You scream, thinking he died. But you see him moving. And Rey is shocked to see how you rushed to his side.

You kneel beside him, only to see an awfull wound across his face, he seems to be lost, probably half unconscious. His face is sweaty and you sigh relieved to see he was alive. The moment feels soft, and he sees some memory that strongly appeared in your head. He closes his eyes and feels you.

The connection. You hated him, but you didn’t want him to die.

Kylo Ren sees himself as a seventeen-year-old student in Luke’s temple. When he was still Ben Solo. He was training with his friend Weenie, they didn’t agree sometimes, which led to heavy training sessions. The blonde padawan fought so hard, and Ben reciprocated. Without even noticing it, they moved around the area where the youngest kids were training. He was furious, Weenie said having bad dreams constantly leads to darkness. He was about to hit Weenie with his blue lightsaber when the blonde moved. Ben Solo heard a little girl cry, and when he saw, there was a girl at his feet, her padawan robes covered in blood and sliced open. His saber had burned her back and cut the top of her long hair and she was unconscious.

The little kids ran towards her. All of them yelled, “Y/N WAS HURT!” “BEN SOLO HURT Y/N! “TELL MASTER SKYWALKER!”

She was eight years old. He never knew who she was.

But when Kylo Ren opened his eyes, he saw the young girl. He couldn’t believe you were that girl. He had so many questions.

You caressed his swollen cheek and leaned to whisper in his ear.

“You took everything away from me. My Jedi training, my home, my family, my future.” He gulped, his hand landed on your hip, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. You stopped him.

“Being with the Resistance feels correct. But I don’t believe in the light or darkness anymore”

“I will see you lose this war, Kylo Ren. And you’ll feel what I did over the years” The hand on his cheeks pushed him further into the snow. And when he tried to stand up, you pulled his hair and crushed his skull again.

Rey took you away, running to take Finn and get out as the First Order base was about to disappear in lava.

But you couldn’t ignore the strange feeling in your stomach. You despise him. You were over the scars he left in your back. You try to forget about Karyn, your family. But you were extremely far away from forgiving Kylo Ren for destroying it.

Nonetheless, Kylo Ren didn't want to let you go and you didn't want to leave him alone.

And you knew it wasn't over. It had only started.

________________________

Go and say mean things in the comments, luv you and let me know if anyone wants part two.

[thetopichot]

Ya'll we need to talk about some Yuuriboy scenes that make me FEEL things & bro it's too good NOT to be analyzed.

Oh yeah this gonna be a long post btw uhhh ya'll know what to dooo 👇

Ya'll already know we talking about Auron first especially the CAR SCENE & JUST ESCAPE IN GENERAL OMG. I don't care if people have like been talking this to death IT'S IMPORTANT TO ME THAT YOU KNOW THIS-

Anyway, Escape is one of my favorite solo series from the boys & especially that Shattered was hinted on Yuurivoice's Twitter that it might be coming along soon or at least that it's currently the works so we gotta talk about Escape again since it's story is definitely gonna play a part in there.

(Also forgive me it's been awhile since I analyze stuff & I'm not good at it either 😭)

Escape, besides Auron being like drained by Rook about like 4 times in a single night (Jesus this man's stamina is fucking crazy 😭), gives us a very nice deep dive into Auron's character & especially what literally breaks me is the goddamn ride home. It's literally Auron becoming more & more vulnerable. When you see the difference compared from the beginning of Escape to the literally the end of it, you see how vulnerable he becomes. What I also like about Auron is he doesn't go outta his way to completely change himself for us, The Listener. He's still a crime boss & he knows that he's done alot of shitty things. Not only that, he tells us about what he's done & full heartedly accepts the consequences that comes along with it.

"I'd hate it. I'd fucking hate it but I would understand." It's such a heart-breaking response to me because it's the fact that he loves us but for our own safety & if we're unable to handle that information, it could all just end there.

So when Rook sees him as more than that, it makes him feel appreciated & loved for what he's done for other people & what he had to do regardless of the consequences because as much as he's a asshole, he has this genuine need to help other people & doesn't care much about what he wants. However, it's literally so draining for him to do that which is something I lowkey relate to.

But, we don't want it to. In this car scene, we fully accept his flaws & you can hear the shakiness in his voice. Like he was about to burst into tears from just being loved & understood for what seems like the first time in a long while. It's literally so sweet but it's so bitter. He literally sees himself as like "I don't care what anyone thinks. I've done what I've done & there's no changing that but I wish there was."

Another scene of Escape that makes me feel things is the when Rook asked about Auron's scars. Not many people talk about it actually.

Auron doesn't really want to go deep dive into his past currently which we're all like "Oh, cool. That's okay :]" BUT WHEN HE SAID

"But, I don't want to. Do you want me to lie to you?" He said that so sadly like OMG IT'S OKAY- Anyway on a serious note, lying is something he doesn't enjoying doing. He's literally currently lying (possibly?) to Trish & Faust about this but like I said earlier, it's for their own safety. He doesn't want to bring any of his loved ones into things that he did & putting them at such a huge risk. Especially you.

(uhhh like for part 2 of scenes that make me cry)

[yanderes-galore]

Micah with a sheriff darling hcs

Thank you other anons for feeding me this idea to request

-🧨

He's going to be so sleazy. Compared to the other Micah requests, this is tame.

Yandere! Micah Bell with Sheriff! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Violence, Murder, Blood, Manipulation, Jealousy, Mature themes, Micah being down bad I guess, Harassment, Kidnapping, Forced "relationship".

Micah, unfortunately, is a man you see around often.

Due to Micah's infamy and your profession... He's definitely around.

Micah's often thrown in jail due to gunfights, bar fights, both....

You want nothing more than to have him hanged.

Micah, on the other hand, has taken a liking to you.

Imagine if you knew of him from his previous gangs?

The man is always broken out of jail and overall problematic to deal with.

You can't tell if you'd be better off hanging him, or just hoping he never comes back to your jail.

But he somehow manages to always come back to your jail.

At first it's due to a gun or barfight, that's when you first meet him.

He's always making some distasteful comment to you.

Yet as the days go on and he sits in his cell... Micah can't stop staring.

You come by to feed him or sit at your desk, going through wanted posters and speaking to bounty hunters.

The entire time Micah won't keep his eyes off you.

Occasionally you speak to him, only because he's there.

You'd much rather be speaking to your deputy, but he's not always around due to patrols.

You may even learn quite quickly that it's best to not give him a cellmate.

One day you came to check on him, only to see him trying to strangle his cellmate.

After that, trust me he lands himself in jail multiple times, you learned to keep him solo.

You have no idea why he did such a thing other than him being a violent outlaw.

Perhaps the guy belonged to some rival gang... which was part of it.

Although the other part of it was Micah heard comments being made about you... and Micah wants your attention only on him.

When Micah's first either bust out or released, you pray you never see him again.

Only for him to show up again later for some other crime.

Micah does a variety of crimes to regain your attention and be beside you in a cell.

Robbery, fights, murder...

By the time the law drags him in, you wish you could kill him yourself.

Micah purposefully does his crimes near your town.

When he's hogtied, he's grinning.

You glare at him, seeing how he's covered in blood and mud each time, only to hear him laugh.

"Hey there, Sweetheart... Miss me?"

You do not.

You often have to tell Micah to be quiet in his cell, he never is.

No, instead the outlaw presses himself against the cell, giving you sultry looks.

You grimace and jump back when he tries to grab you through the bars, desperate to feel some sort of warmth from you.

What's even worse is when he talks, all crude flirtation as he looks you up and down.

You thought he did all this in an attempt to seduce you into letting him go.

But no! Why would he even need that when he's busted out so often?

No, he presents himself to you like a harlot just because he wants to.

Your deputy has come into the jail so often to see you being harassed by Micah, leading to your deputy smacking Micah's cell

God the outlaw hates your deputy.

Micah just makes your job harder, for no one's benefit but himself.

You swear he's trying to make you uncomfortable when he presses against the bars, reaching out to grab you and hold you against them.

"A shame we keep meeting like this, behind cold bars... wouldn't you rather there be no... restrictions?"

It takes every ounce of restraint you have to not press your revolver to his forehead.

You hate nothing more than him... and he loves that.

It gets to the point when he's not in jail, he follows you.

He follows you on patrols, riding his horse a distance away until some passerby comes by on their own horse...

Then he shoots them, just to get your attention.

Aw, too bad, are you gonna hogtie him?

He'll promise to be good.

Only when you do it though, your deputy can go to hell.

Other times he just corners you to have you look at him.

He doesn't care if you attempt to kill him or take him in... He just enjoys your hands on him.

Micah seems like he'd purposely pick fights to have your attention.

Isn't he your favorite outlaw?

In a way you can consider this him being in "love" with you.

That or maybe this is just some game to him and he loves to toy with the hot sheriff in town.

"Come on, Sweetheart. I'm right here for you! Gonna kill me? You know you can't... So why don't you and I get a drink? Then maybe I can go back to that office of yours for... other reasons... yeah?"

Micah is a persistent man... unfortunately.

He is a man who is known for shooting up towns to get what he wants.

He's insane, erratic, violent... and he wants you.

He'll probably not stop until he's killed.

Something he isn't keen on letting happen.

For now, his obsession is kept under control in his cell, eying you up and down like a caged animal.

But soon, perhaps in a patrol with your deputy, Micah will come back.

He's always watching you when not in jail.

If his past says anything...

He thinks it's euphoric when he takes one of his prized revolvers...

and shoots your deputy off his horse.

Your horse immediately rears and bucks you off while your deputy's horse takes off with it, tossing you on the ground.

As you try to clear your head, noticing blood pool from your deputy, Micah steps over him and towers over you.

He's been no doubt waiting for months to do this.

"Seems you've got yourself in a little predicament, sheriff..."

Micah's voice is a mocking coo, blowing the steam off his revolver while he leans down.

You go to stand but he roughly shoves his boot on your chest, holstering his revolver before pulling out a lasso.

You go to pll out your own gun, but he kicks it out of your hand before tying your wrists.

"Been wondering when I'd get to do this... look how the tables turned."

Micah chuckles, kicking your side to roll you over as he hogties you.

You're forced to look at your dead deputy, your horses long gone.

"God... ain't you cute... and all mine...."

You grimace, squirming when Micah picks you up to place you on his horse.

"See how it feels? To be captured and carried off? I can't wait to take you back to camp... Everyone back in town's going to think you're dead."

"You'll hang for this!" You growl, only for Micah to chuckle.

"I haven't been hanged yet, bold of you to assume I will now...." Micah grins, tossing you on his horse.

Micah expects to get an earful from Dutch back at camp.

But he's sure he can convince him you're an asset.

In reality, he could care less.

He's tired of you teasing him in jail for months... Now he can have you all to himself...

No bars to keep him from what he wants.