#OKAY YOU ALL HAVE TO STOP BEING NICE TO ME NOW

[mysterymachine67]

Concept.. grumpy!reader (male, obviously we don't have enough </3) and Dean ending up riding him 'n praising him a ton because it's the easiest way to calm down his pent-up, grouchy, boyfriend n make him feel better.

PAIRING: Dean Winchester x M!reader

SUMMARY: Dean riding you to calm you down.

NSFW. MINOR’S DNI.

Apologies that this came out late. Also I’m trying different layouts until I find the one I like 👍🏻 So a few fic layouts probably will look different

It really wasn’t your day. You woke up in a bad mood—irritated that you didn’t get enough sleep and a lot more other reasons. They were good reasons, though. Not stupid ones. You thought it’d pass as the day progressed, but it only got worse.

Everything seemed to know you were having a bad day. You tripped on the door while coming into the bunker, missed putting your bag on the table which resulted in it falling to the ground (you swear the table moved), and that’s only two. Sam understood you were irritated, so he tried to be more patient and calm with you. Dean on the other hand still kept fucking with you, but only sometimes, not all the time. At the moment, you were unpacking your bag from a hunt from a week ago. You don’t blame yourself for not unpacking it straight away, the hunt was exhausting. Anyway, you reached for one of your T-shirts but failed to pick it up. Completely missing it. So you went to pick it up again, but failed a second time. Just as you were about to cuss out a fucking shirt, Dean walked in.

“Woah— wrong timing?” He said, with a hint of tease. You picked it up, obviously.

“Dean—“ You started, irritation clearly rising in your tone.

“Okay, okay. That one’s on me,” he said, raising his hands in the air as a sign of defeat and surrender. “What’s got you so angry anyway?” You then set your now half-full bag on the floor, and turned to face him. Starting to rant about why the day has gone so horribly. After your long conversation, Dean got closer to you and wrapped his arms around you. In an attempt for a huge. Then he kissed you, soft and gentle. “I know a way to help you calm down.” He smiled against your lips. You had a feeling of what it could be, and you were right.

—

Dean’s lips pressed against yours again. Capturing them in a kiss. His hips went down, slowly. Walls hugging your cock. You broke the kiss to look down, taking in the sight of him taking you. And once you were bottomed out the both of you took a moment. Letting each other’s hands roam while nearly making out. Dean moaned—best believe it went straight to your cock. It twitched and he felt it, letting out a small grunt. When you broke the kiss the both of you panted lightly, lips swollen and hands stopped somewhere. Yours were on his hips, helping guide him. His were on your shoulders.

“Alright— c’mon, move,” you grunted. If anything getting impatient more than feeling better. But the truth? This was in fact going to calm you down a lot more than you think.

“Be patient,” Dean whispered while slowly starting to move himself up. He kissed you again. This time more light and gentle than the previous ones. “You,” he started and pushed his hips down. “Need to really calm down.” Focusing on his face, you notice his slight smile and a small laugh. Which you rolled your eyes to.

“Yeah, well, it’s kinda hard to when you—“

“Ah, ah, ah!” He said quickly. His goal being to silence you and it worked. “This is what I’m talking about. Just be quiet and let me work my magic. Okay?” You agreed with a quiet hum, but bucked your hips.

Minutes into it, he rode you nice ‘n slow. Praises pulled from his mouth and into your ears. Was this helping you? Of course. You loved it. Rubbing your thumb at his side, and kissing him every so often. You’d try to assist him but every time he’d tell you otherwise.

Dean slowly worked you up to the edge. Lips pressing against yours; eventually to your jaw, near your ear, and your neck. With him moving up and down on your cock, the feel of him hugging you perfectly, and the praise that left his mouth, you’re sure you’re gonna have to return the favor at some point. Maybe not. Who knows?

“Watcha thinkin’ ‘bout?”

“Nothin’.”

“You sure?”

“Yep.”

A groan pulled from his throat when your cock prodded at his prostate. Hands gripping some place on your body to stabilize himself. You tipped your head back, sucking in a shaky breath. Eyes shutting and letting yourself relax a bit. You cursed under your breath, hips bucking up instinctively and tightening your grip on his hips. “‘M gonna cum,” you breathed out. Speaking of breathing, yours quickened and so did his. Though he kept his more controlled than you did. So, with the information that Dean was just given, he worked quicker. He leaned back in, pressing his lips to yours. It was passionate, sweet. But only lasted for a few seconds. Though he made up for it by whispering words of praise.

“Doing so good, keep focusing on me, alright? Non of that angry stuff.” The more he kept doing it the more closer you got. In only a matter of minutes did you buck your hips up, and came with a moan. Painting his walls white with your cum. Dean whimpered from the feeling. The both of your breathing soon becoming louder. He kept moving till it overwhelmed the both of you.

“Feel better?”

“A lot better.”

[y3sterdaysproblem]

they said speak now - m.s.

summary: you and matt had been best friends since the moment you were born, rarely doing anything without him by your side. your families have always expected the two of you to end up together, but when matt gets a girlfriend that hates you and desperately attempts to destroy your relationship, you’re forced to confront the truth about your feelings for him. will your bond survive the test, or will the pressure of love, jealousy, and change push you apart?

wc: 1.5k

series masterlist

Part six

Everything felt normal for once. No girlfriend, no distractions, not even any brothers around, just you and Matt spending the day together like you used to. It felt good.

“Okay, maybe I was a little too aggressive on that kid, but he called Chris a bitch and that was fucked up! We were kids!” Matt laughs loudly from across the table, sending you into another fit of giggles. You both were at the new cafe in the city you asked to go to, sitting outside in the breezy summer air, each eating a little pastry as you sipped on your drinks.

“I call Chris a bitch all the time,” you remind him, raising your eyebrows slightly as you peer over your sunglasses at him. Matt rolls his own eyes, a sassy expression he’s mastered over the years. “Yeah, but that doesn’t matter. You’re like our sister, you could call us anything.” He tells you, grabbing his drink and taking a long sip of it.

Sister? Maybe to Nick and Chris but for Matt it felt different than a sister. You try to hide the way you want to grimace at his words, not only due to it hurting your feelings but also just the fact that the thought of him thinking of you as a sister felt a little gross when that’s definitely not what you were thinking when you were around him.

“I’m practically just an extension of all of you,” you joke, trying to stay on whatever weird path Matt was on. You both finish up with your pastries and decide to walk around for a little bit with your drinks, popping into a shop here and there, before deciding to plant yourself on a bench on a pier, legs swinging as you look out onto the water.

“So,” you start slowly, turning your head to look at Matt. He looks at you as well, nose scrunched up slightly as he squints to avoid too much sun in his eyes. “You really like Amber, huh?” Matt licks his lips, not fully expecting you to ask that but not completely caught off guard either.

“I do,” he nods, smiling slightly. “She’s really nice, she’s a good listener and likes talking to me, too, she remembers weird little things I tell her about myself or my family…” he rambles for a few more moments before sucking in a deep breath to stop himself. “I really wish you guys could see eye to eye. Every interaction you two have had has been negative and I’m not saying you have to be her best friend but I really do want her around and I just… I guess I’m just asking you to try.”

The way he’s speaking you can tell he’s being genuine. He has no idea you’re painfully in love with him, has no idea that it’s obvious to everybody except for him, including Amber. She could read you like a fucking book, see the way you look at Matt and know all of your secrets. You sigh and shift your whole body on the bench to face him, staring at his scrunched up expression.

“I’ll try,” you tell him, shooting him a tight lipped smile. “I’ll ask her if we can start over, take her out to coffee and we can try to have some sort of relationship. I’ll tell her that we’re nothing but friends and that you don’t have feelings for me.” Matt’s expression lights up at this, eyes wide despite the sun glaring in them. “Really?” He asks excitedly. You nod, reaching for your phone in your pocket. You unlock it and open your camera, holding it in front of Matt’s face and snapping a photo, laughing softly.

“Sun in your eyes,” you tell him goofily, showing him the picture. He laughs, too before bringing his hand up to his face, casting a shadow over his eyes. “I’m gonna go blind from forgetting sunglasses,” he jokes, but you laugh and nod along because that reality didn’t seem so far fetched.

The rest of the day goes by the same way, quality time spent with your best friend completely interrupted due to his girlfriend being preoccupied with her family. You wished it could be like this forever, even if you couldn’t call him yours, you just missed him always having time for you like he used to.

Later in the day, right before the sun was about to start setting, you guys found yourselves at the beach, laid out side by side with your arms folded underneath your head, eyes up towards the sky. “Do you remember your first crush?” You ask Matt suddenly, head turning to face him as he answers your question.

“Like, a real crush or a celebrity crush?” Matt inquires, turning his head to meet your eyes. You shrug as best as you can in this position. “Either. Both, if you want,” you answer him.

He hums, eyes darting around as he thinks. “Well my first celebrity crush was probably Megan Fox. Can’t go wrong with her, she’s been beautiful forever,” he starts, a goofy grin on his face. “And my first real crush was probably… well… you.”

Your eyes widen at his words, not expecting that to be his answer. “Me?” You ask in shock, your expression making him laugh as he nods his head. “I mean, yeah. We were together every waking moment of every day, of course I was going to develop a crush on you. Don’t worry, it went away a few years ago so you don’t have to worry about me secretly being in love with you.”

You laugh like you know you’re supposed to, genuinely finding it funny aside from the part where you wished he still felt the same, still wanted you the way you wanted him, but even if he did have a crush on you, who’s to say if it was even the same as you felt? Your feelings were all consuming, a sickening desire for the boy laid out next to you trapping your every thought, feeling incomplete without him there to be your missing piece. It wasn’t a crush, it was full blown love.

“What about you?” Matt asks, tearing you from your thoughts. “Hm?” You question, momentarily forgetting what you were talking about. “Your first crushes, who were they?” He reminds you.

“Oh, right,” you nod, pondering for a moment. “My first celebrity crush was probably… Logan Lerman in Percy Jackson,” you laugh at the admission, finding Matt’s nod of understanding slightly funny. “And my first real crush was… Chris.”

Matt gasps and his face contorts into disgust, a loud ‘yuck!’ leaving his lips. “Chris?! Not me?!” He squeals, rolling onto his side to face you as you giggled loudly. “He’s funny! He makes me laugh and he’s always been cute!” You defend through your laughter, not fully lying. Chris definitely was cute, but that’s all you thought when it came to attraction.

“But he’s so.. gross!” Matt groans, shaking his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe I admitted to having a crush on you and you turn around and say you liked Chris. I’m actually disgusted and maybe even a little heartbroken.”

“Do you want me to have a crush on you?” You ask suddenly, secretly hoping he’d say yes, that his feelings never went away and he was just using Amber to try and forget about you. His eyes widen and he shakes his head, cheeks dusting pink cutely. “No,” he says shyly, lips curling into a small smile. “Not now, at least. Maybe a couple years ago but you were too busy thinking Chris was cute.”

You scoff, throwing an arm over your eyes to ignore Matt to the best of your abilities, knowing you’d never live down the admission of your Chris crush, but the reality of living with that versus telling Matt the truth seemed infinitely easier.

Ignoring him didn’t last long when he decided to grab a handful of sand and sprinkle it over your face, causing you to rip your arm from your eyes and smack his hand away as you sputtered and coughed, spitting sand from your mouth. “Ew!” You yell, grabbing your own handful to throw at his face, making him let out a mixture between a laugh and a cough, his eyes clenched shut from the impact.

You continued to play fight in the sand as the sun began to set behind you, the sounds of the crashing waves creating the perfect background music to the happy giggles that squealed from your lips, and you couldn’t help but wish it could always be like this.

But it couldn’t, and your life would never be the same as it was.

[eddtherippr]

in case you write for shauna……i have a thought hmm

okok so basically she actually ends up going to brown and meets reader there - who’s practically jackie taylor reincarnated!! like very outgoing, similar style, kinda snarky but also very nice, you get the drift

they end up dating and sharing an apartment and living their cute life but our girl shauna is STRUGGLING

maybe maybe she even has r meet tai or smth and tai calls her the fuck out for it

i just wonder what thoughts you have about it

OH THIS IS WILDDDD i love shauna being crazy as hell... shauna getting out and having to go to boring-ass college because what the fuck else is she gonna do, and meeting alternate universe jackie taylor... fuck

HELP ALSO MY BAD MINORS DNI I SAID SOME FREAKY SHIT IN THIS

shauna hates college. really hates college. it's funny how the one thing she wanted more than anything before the plane crash almost feels like a punishment now. she was a queen, and now she has to write essays? what a bunch of bullshit

she meets you in ENGL 100D. matters of romance. go figure

well, she doesn't meet you, exactly. not until she's over her period of staring at you like she wants you to explode

because you're just. like. her. down to the mannerisms. the laugh. the stupid bunny rabbit twitch of your nose. the snark. even the slightest gesture of your hand reminds her of jackie and it makes her want to crawl out of her own skin

you're convinced she hates you, because what the fuck?? why is this scary brunette death glaring me in our poetry seminar??? send help?? but she's just half yearning half resenting and fullyyyyy unchecked and mentally ill

you get paired for a reading. the lais of marie de france, bisclavret. story about a werewolf and his lover. doesn't matter to shauna- because firstly she thinks you're typical popular girl ditzy and secondly she doesn't want to talk to you

but then fuck, you bounce up to her with a notebook and bunch of glittery gel pens, talking about how excited you are to work with her, and she can't keep holding a grudge against you for just sort of being her dead best friend come back from the grave to haunt her

so she works with you. and okay maybe she stares at you sort of awestruck as you read bisclavret like you're genuinely invested... waxing on in a dramatic voice trying to make her laugh

until you get to That Part

"It's true, more than all the world I love you. You should hide nothing from me, nor ever doubt I'm loyal in any affair. That would not seem like true friendship."

and fuck you remind her so much of jackie it makes her SICK ethel cain style

but also she's shauna. she can't help herself. girl's got zero impulse control. so she asks if you'd like to start hanging out more than just for school because that's such a great idea

and apparently, the one difference you and jackie have? you can actually admit you're gay

because "hanging out" turns to making out turns to you and shauna getting an apartment together a short drive away from uni so you can still make it to your morning classes

shauna feels actually deranged for it. doesn't stop obviously. just writes in her fuckass journal. countless entries about how you look just like her. talk just like her. are just like her.

it always comes back to that first assignment you got paired for— because bisclavret is a tragedy. the lady swore she would love the werewolf but when she found out what he really was, she ran away in fright and wouldn't see him anymore

which, fucking mood for shauna. so things start to spiral

she's obsessive. always trying to protect you, never letting you leave by yourself, and AB SO FUCKING LUTELY never letting you be cold. if you even slightly shiver she whips off her jacket and every other layer and bundles you up until you look like a penguin

she sees you as a second chance, but also as a bitter reminder

you call her "shipman" once and it sparks the only real fight you've ever had— like screaming yelling lashing out fight

you cry obviously because what the fuck shauna???

shauna also cries. apologizes and kisses it all better (doesn't admit that she kinda likes kissing it better.. that's freak for thought)

doesn't usually slip up— but just once she mumbles 'jax' during sex

you don't hear it and thank fucking god for that because imagine trying to explain it

she takes you to meet tai eventually because tai is the only one who's consistently kept contact with her and is still one of her best friends

and boy does tai clock that shit IMMEDIATELY. the first word out of your mouth is "hiya" and she just looks at shauna like 'what the actual fuck.'

"You can't be serious." Shauna's jaw ticks. She crosses her arms, looks anywhere but Tai's face— which is currently stone-set like the world's most disappointed, judgemental statue. She opens her mouth. Closes it. Tai practically balks. "Shauna," she says. Then, with the continued silent treatment from the typically ever-mouthy, ever-opinionated Shipman— "Shauna!" "Fuck, just— it's not like that, Tai," Shauna hisses, trying to be quiet, lest you hear their spat from where you've gone to the bathroom. "Then what's it like?" Tai prods, poking more holes in an already sinking, flimsy defense. "Because it looks like pretty fucked up to me." "I love her," Shauna replies, like it's that easy. It isn't. Tai's lips pull taut as a bowstring. "No, you're obsessed with her because she's practically a carbon fucking copy, Shauna—" She doesn't get to finish her argument, because the flush of the toilet and the door creaking, signaling your return, silence her. Good. Shauna figures she'll need the bathroom soon anyways. She doesn't think her lunch will stay down for much longer.

it's safe to say shauna doesn't take you around tai much after that. tai is always silently judging though

my bad i yapped a whole lot for this one BUT THIS IDEA IS SO INTERESTING... I LOVE IT

[darkbluekies]

Silas, Jerry & Hedwig drabbles: paying ransom

Yandere!mafia oc, yandere!female!mafia oc, yandere!richgirl oc

Warnings: darling is kidnapped so expect a darker atmosphere, death/killing, beating,

Silas:

His entrance is always enough to bring chills down your back, but this time his anger is not directed towards you. He walks quickly, hands in his pocket, eyes dark enough to swallow someone whole. He stops in front of the one holding you, nodding at SIC. SIC rolls his eyes and takes out a familiar white USB from his inner pocket.

"If you want this you'll let my spouse go first", Silas says coldly.

"How do I know that you won't dash?" the one holding you asks mockingly.

"Swear on my life."

You're let go, roughly. In less than a second, SIC steps forward, handing over the USB and pulling you out of harms way, throwing you back to Silas, who catches you. Silas's arms wrap around you as he hides you on his black coat. Your body cold and stiff after hours of kept captive.

"Nice doing business with you, Silas", the man holding the USB says.

Silas glares at him. "Keep your mouth shut before I change my mind and kill you. You should already have scurried away from here because the Gods know how badly I want to rip your tongue out."

He doesn't wait a second longer before pulling you with him as the three of you start to walk. He holds you tigthly against him.

"SIC", he says.

"Yeah?"

"Kill them."

"On it."

Jerry:

"Big men like you wouldn't resort to such a coward move such as kidnapping a weak being that can't defend themselves, would you?"

She smiles, but it's all sharp and predatory. She's shaking, wanting to kill more than ever.

"You seem to be in a good mood", the man holding you says.

"Good mood?" Jerry scoffs, taking a step forward. "If me being in a good mood means having to get my ass up at the crack of dawn, pay my yearly salary to get the person that I care about back is me being in a good mood, then I'm having a fucking blast."

She nods at her man to bring out the ransom—a member of the kidnappers gang. Jerry's not been gentle on him. He's in a much more critical condition than you, which doesn't surprise you. Jerry's violent, and even more violent when someone fucks with her.

"Here", she says, throwing a stack of cash on the stone floor. "Your blood money. Use it wisely, I've worked my ass off to get it. Now give me my pet."

The man smirks. "Pet?"

She bites back a groan. "Give them to me."

The man chuckles but releases you. You take a cautious step forward, unsure if you're allowed to move. Jerry waves at you to come over. You hurry, wanting to pass over to the other side. She grabs your arm, pulling you close, eyes searching your body.

"Are you hurt?" she whispers.

"I'm fine", you reply.

"Good."

She doesn't let go of your hand. She's planning to return later and kill them. Slowly.

Hedwig:

She dumps the money on the floor. You've never seen her like this. Never seen her ... dark like this. There's not a single ounce of Hedwig in those hazel eyes, and for a few seconds, you even doubt that it is Hedwig.

And you've never seen the men she's brought.

"There", she says shortly, shaking with anger. "There's your fucking money!"

"Is it the full amount?" one of the men roughly holding your shoulder asks.

"What? Do you want to count it? It'll take a while, and the cops could come any second. I swear that it's the right amount."

The men holding you exchange a look. They let you go, pushing you forward. Yous tumble over the parking lot's rough surface. Body weak and beaten. They didn't even have to hurt you. Hedwig would have paid the ransom without hesitation.

"Come here, darling", she breathes out, holding out her hand.

You stumble into her arms. She wraps them around you, her warm coat too gentle on your bruised body. You choke out a sob.

"It's okay", she whispers, rubbing your back. "It's okay, sweetheart. Everything's okay."

She holds you as she glares at the men who had dared to take you.

"Don't ever touch my boyfriend/girlfriend again", she warns, voice rougher than you've ever heard her.

With that said, she leads you away, back to the safety of her mansion where nothing will ever touch you again. The men she has brought, her hitmen, will finish the job.

[russo-woso]

For the “A new adventure universe” could you do one where some of the girls for the team babysit for the night to allow r and lessi a night together. Maybe the girls (Leah , Lia , Steph and Beth maybe) just show up and force them to go out even if it’s just to the cinema. Saying that they need time for them :)

Free babysitters || Alessia Russo x reader

Masterlist

Summary You and Alessia have a very needed break whilst some of the girls look after Florence

-> Part of the A New Adventure Universe

“We’ll look after her.” Beth had offered after you commented on how long it had been since you and Alessia went on a date.

With the pregnancy and then the newborn stage, you and Alessia hadn’t had any time by yourselves and it was at that point where you craved some alone time with Alessia - even if it was just going for dinner and then to the cinema afterwards like you were tonight.

Florence was now seven months and you were confident enough to leave her with some trusted people - them people being some teammates.

Kyra had offered in the past - saying her and Vic could look after her but you and Alessia both burst out laughing, immediately saying no.

But when Beth, Steph, Lia and Leah had offered, you had immediately accepted their offer.

So here you were, getting ready for your date as you waited for the four of them to arrive.

You hadn’t gone fully out, but had still made an effort - putting on a nice outfit before putting some makeup on.

You walked down the stairs, hearing Wren giggling as she played with Alessia on the floor.

The sight made your heart melt, watching your two girls giggling with each other.

“Hiya love. You look gorgeous.” Alessia said, noticing you as you watched them.

She got up off the floor, walking over to you and resting her hands on your hips, kissing you gently.

“So do you, lessi.”

You were about to lean in for another kiss when the doorbell went off.

You both groaned, Alessia walking to the door as you went and picked wren up.

“Hi bubba. Me and mummy are going to go out but auntie Beth, auntie Lia, auntie Steph and auntie le are going to look after you.” You told her, wren babbling away as she sat in your lap.

A smile took over her face as she saw the four of them.

You greeted them all with a hug, wrens legs kicking happily as you rested her on your hip.

“Someone’s happy, huh? Is our little gooner happy?” Leah cooed, taking wren from you.

“Right, she’s just had a feed so she probably won’t have another bottle until she goes to bed. She’s normally in bed for around half seven-ish. It’s fine if it’s a bit later. Her clothes are out ready in her nursery. If you need anything, call me or less.” You told them as they all listened carefully.

“We’ve left some money out for you to get yourselves something to eat. Wren’s Changing station is in her nursery too if you need to change her. We shouldn’t be too long, we’ll be back before nine.” Alessia continued, resting a hand on your back.

“Got it.” Leah nodded, still holding a smiling wren.

“Someone’s happy we’re leaving.” You said, kissing wrens head, Alessia doing the same thing afterwards.

“You two start going, we’ve got her.” Lia told you

“If we need anything, we’ll call you.” Steph added

“We’re gonna have the best time, aren’t we wren?” Beth asked, tickling wren who giggled.

“Okay, we’re going. Call if you need anything.”

“We will. Now stop worrying. We’ve got her.” Leah told you and you nodded, trusting the four of them.

You and Alessia left, jumping in the car as you drive into town.

“She should be fine, right?” You asked Alessia who nodded.

“Love, she’s fine. We trust them.”

“Yeah.” You said, taking a deep breath. “She’ll be fine.”

You and Alessia had finished eating, the two of you both having a pasta dish.

Alessia paid and you both headed out of the restaurant, the cinema only being across the road.

Alessia held your hand tightly in hers as you crossed the road.

You got your popcorn and drinks, finding the screen your film was playing on.

“This has been nice.” Alessia whispered, as you rested your head on Alessia’s shoulder - the two of you being the only ones in the room.

“I’ve missed wren but I’ve also missed our time.” You said and alessia agreed

“You know, we could always make it a bit more nicer.” Alessia said with a wink. “We could go back to the car. We can always come back and watch the film.” Alessia suggested, a smirk on her face.

You smiled, knowing what she was thinking.

“Let’s get out of here.”

You both got out of the car, your outfits and hair all messy as you approached the door.

You knocked gently, aware that wren would be asleep.

Leah came to the door, smirking as she looked you both up and down.

“Well well well… I wonder what you two did. Did you even go for dinner in the end?”

“Shush.” You said, rolling your eyes as you walked in.

“Have a nice time, you two? Actually, no, don’t answer that. I don’t wanna know.” Beth said

“We had a really nice time.” Alessia said with a small smirk on her face.

“How was wren? Did she go down easily?”

“She was an angel. She went to sleep at half seven.” Steph told you

“Good. Thank you so much for looking after her, I think we really needed a break.”

“I think we know.” Beth added, inspecting your neck.

“Beth, why are you looking at my neck?”

“Just looking at the evidence that shows you had a good time.”

“Why? What’s on my neck?” You asked, having a slight clue as you saw Alessia blush and look away.

You walked into the downstairs bathroom looking in the mirror to see five buckets littering your neck.

“Alessia!”

“That’s our cue to leave.”

[revelboo]

hiya! just a lil guy in your inbox who is trying to get into writting, this stuff is hard hard but i get so baffled by how fast you do your work! im genuinely suprised you havent got burned out while im out here chipping away at my first fic... whats your secret 👀?

I’m just doing these for fun, so I don’t get too worried about making them perfect and Twitter’s word limits got me used to writing short and concise. I know with novels, just getting started can be the hardest part, that first chapter intimidating and serious fanfiction is probably the same. I’ve absolutely skipped ahead to scenes I was excited to write and then came back to the harder chapters before. I tend to just stick ‘888’ in the middle of a manuscript along with a sentence like (something happens) that way I can search for the 8’s later to fix it instead of getting stuck trying to write that one scene or chapter that I’m just not feeling at the time.

Even if it Kills Me Pt 23

Armada Starscream x Reader

• Painfully aware of him as you slide into his cupped hands and he ferries you down onto the floor of his habsuite before turning to go get food, you don’t regret what you did, but you can’t stop from feeling awkward about it. And the mini-cons are all staring at you, chirping softly among themselves to make you positive they know exactly what you and Starscream did while they were out. They’re grown, you remind yourself. Not that it makes it any better that they know you slept with their giant roomie.

• Venting as you sit crosslegged and put your face in your hands, he shoots the mini-cons a look and they fall silent, little faces innocent as they look up at him. And he’s not buying it at all. Lowering himself to sit with you and them, he nudges you with a box of your food before distributing energon to the waiting mini-cons. Why won’t you meet his optics? Watching you dig out a handful of your human food to eat, your silence bothers him. Still overthinking things? Dealing with hangups as you’d called them?

• You can feel his optics on you and that awareness twists to heat and need to your embarrassment. Is it just because you like him and he didn’t change after sex? That he’s still treating you the same, not like a belonging now? Chewing your dry cereal, you wonder if it had ever really been love with your ex. He’d been sweet until he’d managed to isolate you from everyone else and you’d been so infatuated, you’d not realized what he was doing until those bridges were burned and by then you’d been too ashamed to ask for help.

• Where did your thoughts go just then? Your expression emptying to make his wings fidget. “I thought we could go out,” he says to distract you because he hates when you go distant like that. Afraid you’re remembering painful things. “That you might like some sun?” And there’s a small smile. Spark aching when you look up at him, smiling like everything’s okay when it’s clearly not. Knows smuggling you in and out of the base increases the risk of getting caught. Of the Autobots kicking him out and losing the only place he’s ever felt truly safe, but he wants you to be happy. He’s not sure when that became more important than his own happiness.

• “I’d love that,” you manage, forcing a smile for him because he worries and broods when you’re unhappy. And it would be nice to feel the sun on your skin, the breeze in your hair. Leaning against his leg, you watch him tip up his own energon cube to drink. It’s still so strange, to have someone that’s not family looking out for you, to care if you’re happy or not. This is what love should be, you’re sure of it this time even if it scares you. Because loving him gives him the power to hurt you and you’re so tired of being hurt. He wouldn’t. You know that, trust him, but that fear is still there.

Previous

[daeniradraconis]

Small Moments - L. Hughes /Age Is Just a Number… Right? - Part 3. /

Hi lovelies, So this is it—the final part of Luke’s story! 🥹 To fully enjoy it, make sure you’ve read Part 1 and Part 2 first.

Just a quick note: I know that in Jack’s and Quinn’s stories, I named Luke’s girlfriend Thea, but in this one, I didn’t use any names. So if you’re not a fan of OC fics, you’re totally safe here! These are more like little snapshots from Luke and the reader's story—a glimpse into their everyday life and quiet moments together.

I hope you enjoy this one as much as I loved writing it. 💛

For more fun: masterlist Those red days

“I love you more than I hate everything else.”

Moving in together was supposed to be fun. A new adventure. A fresh start. A romantic milestone. But right now? You wanted to punt Luke out of your romantic milestone.

You were curled up on the couch, wrapped in a mountain of blankets, feeling like absolute garbage. Your cramps were killing you, you were bloated, and worst of all—Luke was breathing. Loudly. Or maybe just… normally. But normal breathing was annoying right now.

You turned your head, glaring at him like he was your mortal enemy. “Can you just not breathe?”

Luke, sprawled out on the other end of the couch, paused mid-scroll on his phone. “Uh… what?”

“Stop breathing,” you repeated, voice wobbling. “It’s annoying.”

He blinked. “You want me to just… die?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You kinda did.”

“Well, I didn’t mean it like that,” you grumbled, sniffling dramatically.

Luke, being Luke, took a deep breath and then dramatically held it, staring at you like he was nobly sacrificing himself for the greater good.

For a few seconds, it was nice. Quiet. Peaceful.

But then your stupid emotions betrayed you.

Oh God. What if he actually stopped breathing? What if he suffocated? What if he just collapsed right there, and you had to explain to his brothers that you literally annoyed him to death? What if you had to live with that guilt forever?

Your eyes welled up. “Oh no.”

Luke, still holding his breath, raised an eyebrow.

Tears streamed down your face. “BREATHE, LUKE! PLEASE!”

Startled, he exhaled so fast he coughed. “Jesus, babe! What is happening?”

You launched yourself at him, burying your face in his chest. “I told you to stop breathing, but then I thought about you actually dying and now I feel like the worst person ever because I love you and I don’t want you to die and my hormones are trying to ruin my life—”

Luke was silent for a second. Then, he wheezed. “You—” He coughed, trying not to laugh. “You just tried to cancel my breathing privileges and then got sad about it?”

You sniffled. “Yes.”

He exhaled, rubbing your back. “Okay. That tracks.”

You let out a miserable little whimper. “I hate my uterus.”

Luke nodded solemnly. “Understandable.” Then, after a beat— “You know… there is one way to avoid this every month.”

You pulled back slightly, squinting at him. “What?”

His lips twitched. “You could just get pregnant.”

You froze. Oh. That was not where you thought he was going with that.

Your first instinct was to roll your eyes and smack him, but then—your hormones betrayed you again. Because suddenly, instead of slapping him, your brain went, Hmm. Pregnant. Baby. Little Hughes baby. Luke as a dad. You wouldn’t have a period. Interesting.

You stared at him, horrified.

Luke grinned. “Oh my God. You’re thinking about it.”

“No, I’m not!” you shrieked, shaking your head violently.

“You are!” he laughed. “You actually considered it for a second!”

“I hate my hormones,” you groaned, collapsing back against him. “They’re making me like the idea of things I should not be liking right now.”

He kissed the top of your head, still smirking. “I mean, no rush. But if you ever really wanna get rid of your period…”

You groaned again. “I’m moving out.”

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. “No, you’re not.”

You sighed. “No, I’m not.” …But still. Maybe one day. Our Tradition “Maybe that’s what love is. Having someone who makes all the mundane moments feel like small traditions worth keeping.”

The kitchen is bathed in the soft glow of early morning light, the air thick with the sweet scent of pancakes sizzling on the griddle. The soft plop of the batter hitting the pan is almost rhythmic, and you find yourself humming along as you flip the pancakes, making sure they’re just the right shade of golden brown.

Today is special—it’s Luke’s birthday, the first one you’re celebrating together. You want everything to be perfect. The pancakes are stacked high, their golden layers dotted with fresh, ripe strawberries and a light dusting of powdered sugar.

“Smells amazing in here,” Luke’s sleepy voice drifts from the doorway, and you look up to find him standing there, blinking slowly, his hair a mess of wild curls sticking out in every direction. His face is adorably puffy from sleep, his eyes still heavy with that dreamy haze. He looks like he’s just crawled out of a cloud.

You smile at the sight of him, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Morning, sleepyhead,” you tease, setting the pancakes down on a plate.

Luke shuffles over to you, dragging his feet like he’s still half-asleep, his arms already reaching for you. You giggle as he wraps himself around you from behind, burying his face in your neck. His curls tickle your skin as he presses his puffy cheek against your shoulder, his voice muffled.

“I look like a mess,” he mumbles, his words thick with sleep. “My curls are everywhere, and my face is puffy. I can’t even… I can’t believe you’re making me get out of bed looking like this.”

You laugh, running your fingers through his wild curls, making them even messier in the process. “You’re adorable. No matter what.” You turn around in his arms, meeting his sleepy eyes, still glowing with that soft affection. He’s clinging to you like he can’t quite let go of the warmth of the bed. His arms tighten around your waist as he pulls you closer, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I’m just too tired,” he groans, his voice dragging. “Can’t I just stay here with you for a little longer? I don’t want to leave.”

You laugh softly, kissing the tip of his nose, knowing how hard it is for him to fully wake up. “We have pancakes waiting,” you tease, trying to coax him into action.

He groans again, but the grin on his face tells you he’s already starting to wake up. “Mmm, pancakes. I can get up for pancakes,” he agrees, reluctantly loosening his grip but only just enough to let you move toward the counter.

You grab a mug of coffee from the counter and pass it to him, watching as he takes a sip with a sleepy smile. His eyes never leave you as you set the pancakes on the table, a plate full of sweet simplicity. You sit down across from him, the soft morning light warming the space between you.

He doesn’t let you sit alone for long. After a moment, he’s pulling his chair closer, practically on top of yours, his arm wrapped around your shoulders. His curls brush against your cheek, and you feel the weight of his sleepy body leaning into yours.

You smile, feeling your heart swell. "Happy birthday, Lukey," you say softly, taking his hand in yours.

Luke smiles lazily, his eyes half-lidded, his puffy face breaking into a contented grin. "Thank you," he murmurs, squeezing your hand. "This is the best start to my birthday. Pancakes, coffee, and you." He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, his warmth enveloping you. “I could get used to this.”

You chuckle softly, running a hand through his curls again, the mess of them so endearing. “This is our tradition now,” you tell him, your voice full of meaning. “Every birthday, pancakes and coffee. Just us.”

He pulls back slightly, looking at you with soft, adoring eyes. “I love that,” he says quietly. Then, with a teasing grin, he adds, “But next time, can we maybe skip the getting out of bed early in the morning part? I kind of like being wrapped around you for a little longer.”

You smile, leaning into his embrace as you both dig into the pancakes, the quiet, simple joy of the moment settling around you. For all the big milestones and celebrations that lie ahead, this feels like the kind of tradition that will stick—the quiet mornings, the sleepy smiles, and the deep, unspoken understanding that you're building something beautiful together.

When You Need It Most

“When I am with you, I feel at home. And that’s all I need, really.”

The moment you step through the door, you already know—it’s one of those days. The weight of your job, the expectations, the endless frustration—it all clings to you like a second skin, suffocating, inescapable. You drop your bag on the floor with a little too much force, your keys rattling against the table as you toss them down.

Luke and Jack are sprawled out on the couch, watching something on TV, their laughter floating through the air, but it feels distant, like static noise.

Jack picks up on your mental state the moment he lays eyes on you. So he does what he does best—flashes you a grin and tries to break the tension.

“Hey, you look like you could use a drink.” His voice is teasing, playful—the kind of humor that usually earns at least a smirk from you.

Nothing. You just stare at him blankly.

Luke notices immediately. His smile fades, his eyes scanning your face. “Babe?” His voice is soft, concerned.

You don’t answer. You can’t.

Without another word, you turn on your heel and head straight for the bedroom, closing the door behind you a little harder than necessary. The moment you’re alone, it all comes crashing down. The frustration, the exhaustion, the helplessness—it swallows you whole.

Tears burn behind your eyes, and you sink onto the bed, burying your face in your hands. A sharp, uneven breath escapes you, and before you know it, you’re breaking down completely.

You don’t hear the door open, don’t realize Luke is there until you feel the mattress dip beside you. His hand finds your back instantly, warm and grounding, rubbing slow, soothing circles.

“Hey, hey,” he murmurs, voice filled with worry. “Talk to me.”

You shake your head, sniffling. “It’s— It’s my job. My boss wants me back in the office. Full-time.” The words come out choked, filled with frustration. “That’s so much travel, Luke. It’s going to cost me a fortune just to get there. And I don’t—” Your voice wavers. “I don’t even like it. I don’t even know why I’m still doing it.”

Luke is quiet, letting you get it all out. His hand never stops moving, grounding you.

“I just… I feel useless,” you admit in a whisper. “Like I’m stuck. And I don’t know what to do, and—” You take a shaky breath. “I don’t want to move closer to the office, because then I’d have to move out. And I don’t want that either.” Your voice breaks at the last part.

Luke doesn’t hesitate. “Then quit.”

Your head snaps up, eyes red-rimmed as you blink at him. “What?”

“Quit,” he repeats, like it’s the easiest decision in the world.

You let out a humorless laugh, wiping at your eyes. “Luke, that’s insane.”

“No, what’s insane is watching you come home every day looking like this.” His voice is firm but gentle, his eyes locked onto yours. “You’re miserable. You don’t love that job anymore. Why are you forcing yourself to stay?”

“Because I have to.”

“Why?” He leans in, brows furrowed. “Who said you have to?”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

Luke exhales, shaking his head. “Babe, when we agreed to be together, I told you—I want to prove to you that I can be a man. And in my book, that means being there for you. Protecting you. Providing for you.” His voice is steady, full of conviction. “I can do that. For you.”

You swallow, your heart tightening at his words.

“I’m not saying you have to sit at home and just do the housework,” he continues. “Unless you want to. If being a homemaker is what makes you happy, then that’s a job too. You already take care of everything around here. You make this place a home. I see that. I respect that.” He cups your cheek gently, thumb brushing over your skin. “And I don’t want you to feel like you’re trapped in a job that’s making you miserable just because you think you have to.”

Tears well in your eyes again, but this time, they’re different. Lighter.

Luke tilts his head, his voice softening. “Just… take a break. A few months. Give yourself time to figure out what you want. Not what your boss wants, not what’s expected—what you want.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, lingering. “And whatever that is, I’ve got you. No matter what.”

You feel the tension start to ease, but then a familiar knot tightens in your stomach. You pull back slightly, looking up at him with a mix of fear and guilt. “But I don’t know if I can do that, Luke. I don’t know if I can just... not work. People already think I’m with you for your money. They think I’m trying to lock you down because I’m older than you, and—” You shake your head, voice cracking. “Even your mom thought I was only here because of what you have. I can’t... I can’t just stop working, or they’ll be right.”

Luke’s face softens, but his gaze hardens in that way that tells you he’s about to get serious. He takes your hands gently in his. “That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” His voice is firm but filled with warmth. “First of all, anyone who says you’re with me for my money doesn’t know you. I know you. You’re not the type to care about that.”

You try to speak, but he holds up a hand, stopping you. “And second, let’s be real—do you even let me pay for anything? I took you to Starbucks the other day, and you practically threw the change at me.”

A small, reluctant smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. “That’s because I can get my own coffee.”

“I know, but you know what? I like spoiling you. And that’s not about me trying to buy your love—it’s because I appreciate everything you do.” He squeezes your hands gently. “And I know that you take care of this—you take care of us.”

Your chest tightens with emotion, and you let out a shaky breath. “But I don’t want you to think I’m just using you. That I’m not contributing.”

Luke tilts his head, a soft laugh escaping him. “Babe, you don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re not just keeping this place together—you’re running this house. And that’s a full-time job in itself. It’s exhausting, but you do it every damn day.” He pauses, his eyes softening with affection as he reaches out to gently tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “And you don’t let me or Jack help nearly enough.” He shakes his head with a smile. “But you know what? You make this house feel like home. Before you, it was just a place to sleep, but now…” He exhales softly, looking around as if taking it all in. “Now, after a game, a roadie, or a practice, I walk in and it’s like I can finally breathe. It feels like a safe space, like peace. And that’s all you, baby.”

His voice softens even more, the depth of his love clear in every word. “Your candles, glowing every night… that scent, it’s like a wave of calm. It’s like a hug for my soul after a crazy day. And your lemon sorbet? God, it’s like you put all your care and love into every bite. After we lose, or just have a bad day, it’s like you’re reminding me that there’s still sweetness, still warmth, no matter what. You fill this house with so much love, and it makes my heart so damn full every time.”

He lets out a fond laugh. “And don’t even get me started on those ridiculous fluffy pillows you insist on buying. They’re the softest things I’ve ever laid on, and they’ve made my sleep so much better. Honestly, I’m pretty sure I’d still be running on fumes if it wasn’t for them.” He grins, his voice turning playful, but there’s a tenderness there that cuts through the teasing. “But seriously, babe… you’ve turned this place into more than just walls and furniture. You’ve made it us. You’ve made me, and even Jack, better—happier. You’ve put so much of yourself into this home, and it’s more than just a place to live. It’s where we feel loved, where we feel cared for. Where we feel safe.”

Your throat tightens, and he rubs his thumb across your hand, soothing you. “I don’t know if you realize this, but you’re already doing more than most people could even handle. You are so much more than any paycheck or job title. You’ve already been providing, in ways that matter. And if you need a break, then take one. I’ve got you.”

Your heart swells at his words, but you’re still reluctant. “But, Luke... I don’t want you to think I’m just... leeching off of you.”

He pulls you in close, his voice soft but full of conviction. “It’s not leeching. It’s a partnership. I want to be here for you. I want to provide for you. That’s what being a man means to me—being there for the people I love, supporting them in whatever way I can.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “And I don’t want you to feel guilty about that. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You swallow hard, tears spilling over again, but this time they’re tears of relief. You’re finally starting to believe him.

“I know I’m young,” he continues, his voice steady, “but I’ve been around long enough to know what matters. And you? You matter. More than anything.”

You feel the tightness in your chest begin to melt away. “But... I still don’t want people to think—”

He cuts you off with a playful smile. “I don’t care what people think. Let them talk. I’m the one who gets to wake up next to you every day—I know who you are, and that’s all that matters.” Then he grins. “Besides, my mom loves you now. You two get wine-drunk together every other Sunday.”

You gasp, hand to your chest. “Excuse you! We’re enrolled in a very respectable online wine tasting course.”

He lifts a brow, smirking. “Babe… pretty sure wine tasting courses don't involve giggling over cheese boards and impulse-buying matching slippers.”

You narrow your eyes. “That was one time. And the slippers were on sale.”

He laughs, eyes soft as he leans in closer. “All I’m saying is—she loves you. You’re in. Fully, completely. Everyone in my family who actually knows you? They adore you.” He pauses, and looks deeply in your eye. “And the people who don’t? Their opinions don’t matter. Not to me. Not to us.”

Luke grins at you, his arms wrapping around you again, pulling you in tight.

“You’re not using me,” he murmurs against your hair. “You’re with me. And I love you for who you are. All of you. I want you to feel secure, to feel safe, not just financially, but emotionally, mentally—every way. And if that means you take a break from work, then take one. I’ve got you. Always.”

You feel his love, his certainty, and for the first time, you feel like you don’t have to prove anything. You don’t have to justify your worth with a paycheck.

“Okay,” you whisper, finally allowing yourself to let go of that fear. “Okay.”

Luke smiles, his lips brushing over your forehead. “Yeah?”

You nod, your heart lighter than it’s been in a long time. “Yeah.”

There’s a long pause before he adds, his voice playful again. “Now, let’s go out there and tell Jack he completely failed at making you laugh. Because that’s gonna break his heart.”

A watery laugh bubbles out of you, and Luke grins, brushing a soft kiss against the top of your head.

“There she is,” he murmurs, a tender smile on his face. “My sweet girl.”

Tides of Us

"They were two souls who had never been apart, just waiting for the world to catch up."

The air still held the warmth of the day, soft and easy, with the sun just starting to dip behind the trees. The lake was calm, stretching out in ripples that caught the last of the golden light. Shadows from the tall pines spilled across the dock, where the boards were sun-bleached and uneven from years of use.

The wood creaked softly beneath you as you moved. Luke’s arms were wrapped around you from behind, his chin resting on the top of your head. You swayed together in a slow, absent rhythm, barefoot and quiet.

Luke was tall and warm and damp from the lake, wearing an oversized hoodie that hung off his frame and clung a little to his skin. His curls, still wet, peeked out from under the hood. You wore a light blue sundress, the bottom of it soaked and clinging to your legs. Your hair was loose, wavy from the water, still drying in the evening air.

There wasn’t much sound—just the lake, the breeze, and the creak of wood beneath you. You didn’t talk. You didn’t need to.

From the terrace of the lake house above, where two weather-worn Adirondack chairs sat angled toward the water, Quinn clicked another photo.

“You’re seriously going full National Geographic right now,” Jack said, chewing around a mouthful of peach. “Creepiest brother behavior I’ve witnessed, and I’ve seen you cry during Finding Nemo.”

Quinn didn’t lower the camera. “Bold talk from the guy who wouldn’t give up the Jersey apartment for Luke and Y/N because he ��didn’t want to be emotionally abandoned.’”

Jack shrugged and dropped the peach pit into his cup. “Yeah, I’m needy and mildly unhinged. I own that. That’s why I get to judge everyone else.”

Quinn rolled his eyes. Jack had always been dramatic, clingy, and unapologetically himself—and by now, nothing surprised Quinn anymore. Still, he set the camera down and leaned back in his chair.

They sat side by side in peaceful silence, the kind that didn’t need filling. Below, Luke suddenly tightened his grip and spun you around, lifting your feet clean off the dock with a squeal. You laughed—loud and bright—head tipping back as the world blurred around you. Luke giggled too, breathless and boyish, like he couldn’t help it.

When he finally set you down, you reached up on instinct, fingers threading through his damp curls just to mess them up. He swatted at your hand, but you were already darting away with a grin.

“Oh no you don’t,” he called, barefoot steps soft against the dock as he chased after you. You didn’t get far—you never really tried to.

“They’re so in love,” Quinn said simply.

Jack nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

He leaned back in the chair, squinting at the dock like he was watching a memory instead of a moment.

“You remember how it started?” Jack asked, a laugh already curling at the edges of his mouth.

Quinn chuckled. “She tried to sneak out of the apartment.”

“She was sneaking out,” Jack said, grinning. “He was still asleep. I found her in the hallway looking like she’d just realized she’d committed a federal crime.”

“She didn’t know who you guys were, right?”

“Nope. She told me I had ‘the vibe of a guy who points at maps for a living.’ Thought I was the local weatherman.”

Quinn smirked. “Yeah... she told me later she only said that because she could tell, you had a huge ego and didn’t want to feed it. Apparently, she thought you looked more like the kind of guy who could make some good money as a stripper.”

Jack blinked, then broke into a loud laugh. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. She figured you out in under a minute.”

Jack leaned back with a proud grin. “What can I say? I make a strong first impression.”

“But she didn’t even know Luke played hockey professionally,” Quinn added, grabbing his beer and taking a long sip.

“Yeah. Thought it was just some weekend hobby or something. Y/N, said he didn’t seem like a pro athlete—apparently Lukey was too cute and dorky on their first date.”

Quinn shaked his head, a little bit more seriously. “I didn’t trust her at first. I thought she was lying.”

“None of you did,” Jack said, smirking. “I was the only one. Best brother, obviously.”

Quinn rolled his eyes. “Y/N is six years older, Jack. And their first date… was... not exactly slow-burn. It was suspicious.”

“Because you didn’t see them from the start,” Jack said, his voice shifting, a little quieter now. “They were like yin and yang, man. Like they’d just met, but they already fit. It was freaky—like, glowing-and-melting-into-each-other level chemistry. But they barely knew each other. I knew right then—this was it for Lukey.”

He shrugged and leaned back, arms folded behind his head, letting the warm breeze play through his hair.

Quinn’s face softened. “Yeah. I realized it too now. She knows everything about him. The way he hums when he brushes his teeth. That he re-watches Harry Potter movies when he’s sick. That he won’t eat banana desserts, but will crush an entire bunch of bananas like a feral raccoon.”

Jack snorted.

“And it goes both ways,” Quinn continued. “It’s kind of disturbing how well they know each other after such a short time. It’s like they skipped the awkward phase entirely.”

Down on the dock, Luke kissed your forehead gently, then spun you again, slower this time. The fireflies had come out—little gold sparks blinking at the edge of the grass as the sky shifted into indigo.

“And she just... fits,” Jack said, his tone softening. “She tolerates my sassy ass, and she handles your moody one. It’s like she was meant to be here with us. And you know, she makes sure I’m included. She cooks for us, always pulls me into whatever plans that two are planning. She’s not just here for Luke. She’s here for me too.”

​​Quinn raised an eyebrow. His brother wasn’t exactly known for sharing his feelings. This caught him a little bit off guard.

Jack let out a breath, still watching you and Luke on the dock. “Before Y/N, it was just me and Luke. We had our thing, you know? Living in the big city, playing on the same team, just relying on each other. We did everything together—hell, it was just us against the world. We built this bond, and I didn’t want it to change.”

Quinn nodded, understanding. Since moving to Vancouver, he’d seen how much closer Jack and Luke had grown. All three of them were tight, but those two had something different—a bond built on living and working side by side. Quinn didn’t resent it. He was glad they had each other, because playing in the NHL was tough. He knew how tough it was to move to a new city, far from home, and still be expected to thrive in such a competitive environment. It could get lonely fast. But Jack and Luke weren’t alone. They had each other. And that made it a little easier.

Jack rubbed a hand over his face, his voice a little quieter now. “I hated the thought of being the third wheel. I was afraid that with her around, I’d get left behind. I know, it sounds dumb now, but... I didn’t want to lose what we had. But she didn’t take anything away. If anything, she made everything feel more... whole. She made our place feel like home. Not just for Luke, but for me, too.”

Jack glanced at Quinn, a little guarded now, like he realized he might’ve said too much. "But don’t tell her I said any of this. We’ve already got enough eucalyptus candles to start our own spa, and I seriously can’t handle another one."

Quinn smirked but didn’t say anything. Jack paused, and for a second, Quinn caught something rare in his brother’s eyes—a flicker of emotion he rarely let slip. Jack cleared his throat quickly, like he could shake it off.

He wasn’t the emotional one. But seeing Luke like that—so happy, so in love—it hit different.

Click.

Jack turned, eyebrows raised. “Seriously? What now?”

Quinn lowered the camera, still grinning. “You had feelings. I figured I should document the event. Might be another decade before it happens.”

“Asshole...” Jack muttered, rolling his eyes. But then he smiled—soft, real. “You know, you were right last Christmas.”

Quinn looked confused. “About what?”

“That Mom’s always right,” Jack said, voice dropping just above a whisper. “Luke was always gonna be the first to get married.”

Quinn let out a quiet laugh, eyes drifting back toward the dock. “That woman’s got witchy powers, I swear. She just knew.”

The last of the sunlight spilled gold across the lake, soft and warm, like it didn’t want to let go. Down on the dock, Luke looked up, catching their gaze. He smiled—proud, in love, a little shy—and in that moment, both Jack and Quinn saw it clearly.That look said everything. It was love. It was growth. It was their little brother—no longer just a boy, but a man.

Wine and Wisdom

“I think that’s what love is. You accept them, flaws and all, because you know they’re worth it.”

It was supposed to be your week.

One last stretch of time before Luke left for the Olympics, before he disappeared into a whirlwind of press, team dinners, strategy meetings, and a level of focus that turned him into a brick wall in skates.

But instead of romantic goodbye dinners or soft movie nights, you were getting Sass Monster Hughes. Olympic Luke had officially entered the building—and he was stomping around like a storm cloud in a Team USA hoodie.

Which is exactly why you were now curled up on the couch with a glass of wine, FaceTiming with a woman who once made it very clear she didn’t like you.

Ellen Hughes answered on the second ring. She picked up with a slow sip of wine and a perfectly timed raised eyebrow. 

“He’s shut down, huh?”

You nodded, sinking deeper into the couch with your own glass. “He’s in full Olympic lockdown. I tried asking if he wanted to do anything tonight—movie, walk, food, literally anything—and he looked at me like I kicked a puppy.”

Ellen hummed knowingly. “Yep. That’s the zone. Doesn’t matter how many times they go through it, the first few days before they leave for a big tournament are always the worst. It’s like their brain shuts every door except the one labeled 'win'.

You rubbed your temple. “It just sucks. I know he loves me. I know he’s stressed. But it’s like I’m not even in the room half the time.”

Ellen gave you a look that wasn’t pity—it was understanding.

“You’re not doing anything wrong. He’s just in it.” She paused, thinking. “This is the part of being with a hockey player no one tells you about. The way they disappear into their own heads before something big.”

You nodded, letting that settle.

“So what do I do?” you asked, voice softer now. “I don’t want to push. But I also don’t want to spend our last night together staring at the wall.”

Ellen’s smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She took another sip, then set her glass down.

“Okay. Here’s the deal. You don’t chase him. You anchor him.”

You blinked. “Anchor?”

“Yeah. Don’t ask for a big romantic night or some emotional goodbye. That’ll make him feel guilty, and guilt makes him shut down more.”

She leaned in, a little conspiratorial now.

“What he needs is presence. Calm. Something solid that reminds him who he is outside the rink. You.”

Your throat tightened.

“So... just be normal?”

“Be you,” she said. “Put on a stupid show you both love. Order takeout from that place he always tries to pretend he doesn’t like. Sit on the couch like nothing's different. He’ll come to you when he’s ready.”

She paused, then added, with a smirk: “And when he does, don’t make it a big deal. Just let him lean in. Let him come back quietly.”

You nodded, more to yourself than to her. Something about the way she said it—gentle but steady—clicked.

It was so funny, really. Sitting here with Ellen, drinking wine, trading advice about how to love her baby boy through his weird little hockey shutdown. If someone had told you this would be your Tuesday night a year ago, you’d have laughed in their face.

But now, you couldn’t imagine not calling her.

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

She waved it off, but her eyes were soft.

“You’ve got him—even when he gets like this. Just trust yourself. Trust the quiet. And if all things fails, bake him something sweet. If there’s one thing those boys can’t resist, it’s sugar.” She paused, then added with a grin, “And make sure it’s chocolate. Luke would even trade me for a lifetime supply of chocolate cake, and I wouldn’t even blame him.”

You laughed, a real laugh this time. “Noted.”

And just like that, the heaviness started to lift.

—

The night had dragged on in its quiet way. You had kept things light, just like Ellen suggested—no big expectations, no emotional pleas. You were just there, letting the minutes pass by, feeling the calm of your own space.

Luke, though, wasn’t calm. Not really. You could feel the unease radiating off him even when he sat in the kitchen or when he tried to act like he was doing something important. His nerves were eating him up.

You could hear him pacing, the shuffle of his feet as he moved through the apartment. He was lost in his thoughts.

You felt it. The quiet tension between you both. But you didn’t chase him. You just stayed where you were, trying to let him come to you when he was ready.

And after a while, you couldn’t help but notice the familiar figure standing in the doorway again, looking more… unsure than usual. His eyes were on the floor, his body stiff, as though he was fighting himself.

“I’ve been a dick tonight, huh?” Luke’s voice was quiet, almost sheepish.

You paused the TV, finally giving him the attention he needed. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes. There was no anger, just… understanding. “You’re just stressed, Luke. I get it.”

He shook his head, biting the inside of his cheek. “No, it’s more than that. I’ve been a shit boyfriend.” He ran a hand through his hair, the frustration clear in his expression. “I’ve been so wrapped up in my head, I’ve barely even noticed you’re here. You deserve better than that.”

You felt a tug at your chest. He was doing it again—the self-flagellation that came with his guilt. “You’re nervous. You’re not yourself right now, and I get it. But you’re not a bad boyfriend, Luke. You are allowed to have bad days.”

But he wasn’t convinced. He took a small step forward, his hands stuffed awkwardly into his pockets. “Still, I should’ve been better. I shouldn’t have made you feel like you weren’t important just because I’m wrapped up in me.”

There was a long beat where neither of you spoke. His eyes flickered between yours, still unsure of himself. Then, in that quiet space, his tone softened, his shoulders visibly relaxing just a little. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you away like that. You don’t deserve that.”

You could feel the sincerity in his words. You smiled gently, the weight of the moment hitting you. “It’s okay, Luke. You don’t have to apologize. I know this is big for you. I just want to be here for you.”

Luke took another step closer, now standing right in front of you. His hands came out of his pockets, but he hesitated, unsure whether to reach for you or not.

Finally, after a long moment, he let out a small sigh and, with a little smirk, looked up at you. “I’m not good at this, you know. The whole… ‘talking about feelings before a big game’ thing.”

You chuckled softly, a small spark of warmth rising in your chest. “I’ve noticed.”

Luke laughed too, but it was nervous—like he didn’t quite know how to move forward. Then, in a rare moment of sweet, unguarded Luke Hughes, he cleared his throat and stepped a little closer.

“So… you’ll forgive me, right?” He was still half-joking, but the way his lips curled into that familiar shy smile made your heart beat just a little bit faster. “I’ll make it up to you… maybe with a date when I get back?”

You leaned back against the couch, pretending to deliberate for a moment, your lips curling into a teasing smile. “Hmm, I don’t know. You’ve been kind of a pain in the ass, Luke. I might need more than just a date to forgive you.”

His eyes widened a little, and his mouth opened, as if ready to make some big, dramatic apology, but then you reached out, tapping him lightly on the arm.

“Kidding. I forgive you.”

His shoulders sagged in relief, and his grin was suddenly much more real. “You’re really not going to make me work for it, huh?” You held his gaze, calm and steady. “No. Because I get it.”

He blinked, still caught halfway between guilt and surprise.

“You’re under pressure,” you continued gently. “This is your first Olympics, Luke. The weight of the team, the media, the expectations—you’re carrying all of it, and I see that. Tonight wasn’t your best, but I’ve had my off days too, and you’ve always been there for me.”

He stayed quiet, but his hand brushed yours, tentative.

“This is what a relationship is. You show up when it’s hard. You hold space when the other person’s struggling. I’m not going to punish you for being human. You’ve never made me feel like I had to earn your love—even when I was a mess. So why would I make you?”

Luke’s brows pulled together, that emotional edge rising in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to shut you out.”

“I know,” you said softly. “That’s why I’m still here.”

A pause stretched between you, full of the kind of silence that feels safe. Then Luke reached out, lacing his fingers through yours.

“Thanks for not walking away,” he murmured, voice rough around the edges.

You gave his hand a squeeze. “Always. You don’t have to be perfect with me. You just have to be honest. We’ll figure the rest out together.”

And in that moment, something shifted. The pressure didn’t vanish, but he wasn’t carrying it alone anymore. You were in it together—and that was everything.

Pillow Fights and Scandalous Interruptions

“In your smile, I see something more beautiful than the stars.”

The living room was a cozy disaster — blankets everywhere, half-eaten snacks on the coffee table, and Uno cards flung across the floor like a tornado had swept through. You and Luke were curled up on the rug, both in sweats, both far too competitive for a game meant for children.

“Blue,” you said smugly, slapping down your card. You saw the twitch in his eye. Victory was close.

Luke stared at his hand, visibly offended. “You sure about that?”

“Positive.”

He held your gaze for a long second… and then, like a menace, played a red card.

You blinked. “Luke. That’s red. I played blue.”

He grinned, completely unbothered. “Nah, I think you played red. You’re probably just confused.”

“You little—” You lunged for a pillow and whipped it at him.

He caught it mid-air, smirking like the actual devil. “Hey, don’t hate the player.”

“You’re cheating.”

He gave a mock gasp. “Accusing a national treasure like me of cheating? I’m hurt.”

You pointed at his hand. “You just picked up a card!”

“Uno,” he said smoothly, holding up one smug finger.

“You are the worst.” You pouted, folding your arms.

Luke scooted closer, nudging your knee with his. “C’mon, I’m a professional athlete. Losing isn’t in my nature.”

“Letting your girlfriend win once wouldn’t kill you.”

He leaned in, voice low. “But you look so cute when you’re fake mad at me.”

You were definitely still mad. Sort of. Okay, maybe not at all.

“I’m revoking snack privileges,” you warned, poking his chest.

He gasped like you’d threatened his career. “That’s cruel and unusual.”

“Deserved.”

Luke tilted his head, the mischief in his eyes replaced with something softer as he brushed his fingers over your knee. “Guess I’ll have to find another way to earn forgiveness.”

Before you could say a word, he pulled you into his lap like it was second nature — strong arms wrapping around your waist, the warmth of his sweatshirt and skin making it impossible to stay flustered. He looked up at you, close now, his expression shifting.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “For being my safe place. Even when I’m annoying.”

You softened instantly, sliding your arms around his neck. “You’re not annoying. You’re just Luke.”

“And you’re just... magic,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. “I missed this. You.”

Your breath caught, the space between you charged and humming. And then you closed the gap.

You kissed him—fierce and hungry—your lips crashing against Luke’s as you pressed yourself closer, straddling his thick frame. His body, honed from years on the ice, was solid beneath you—broad shoulders, muscular thighs, rough hands that held you with quiet command. You rocked your hips, grinding against him, and felt the hard length of him through his sweatpants, a low rumble escaping his chest as he deepened the kiss, tongue claiming yours.

“Easy, baby,” he murmured against your lips, voice low, steady, his hands gripping your waist to slow your movements just enough to keep you right where he wanted. His control was effortless, the kind that didn’t need words, just the weight of his touch. You rolled your hips again, testing, and his fingers tightened, holding you still for a moment, his brown curls falling messily over his forehead as he looked up at you, eyes dark with lust.

You smirked and tugged at his hoodie. He didn’t hesitate, letting you pull it off, and your breath caught a little. He was solid—shoulders broad, chest cut with sharp muscle from years of training. Not bulky, just lean and strong in a way that made it hard to look away. Your eyes dropped to the two small scars on his chest. One sat just below his collarbone, a faded reminder of the time Jack nearly took him out with a skate back when you were kids. The other, newer, curved faintly over his ribs—earned in last year’s game against the Panthers. You brushed your fingers over both, your touch slowing without meaning to.

He watched you with that steady, unreadable look, saying nothing as your hands moved over him, tracing the heat and shape of him. Then his hands slid under your sweatshirt, rough palms gliding over your skin as he pushed it up and off. Your tank top followed, the straps slipping from your shoulders, and then his mouth was on you—warm, sure, lips closing over your nipple in a slow pull that had you gasping.

“Luke,” you breathed, fingers tangling in his brown curls, the strands soft and messy as you held him there. He hummed against your skin, tongue flicking, one hand splayed across your back to keep you close, the other guiding your hips to grind against him at his pace. You could feel him, hard and thick, the friction driving you wild.

You slid a hand down his abs, past the waistband of his sweatpants, and wrapped your fingers around him, stroking slowly. He was heavy in your hand, and when you squeezed, his jaw clenched, a soft groan escaping as his hips shifted slightly.

“Fuck, baby, you’re gonna drive me crazy,” he said, voice rough but still steady, his hand catching your wrist to guide your strokes, showing you exactly how he wanted it.

You leaned in, lips brushing his ear. “Let me taste you,” you whispered, tugging at his sweatpants, eager to get them off. His eyes flickered with something dark and approving, and he let you slide down, his hands still on you, keeping you close as you started to work the fabric down his thighs.

Then the door burst open.

“OH MY ACTUAL GOD—WHAT THE FUCK?!”

You yelped, snatching for the closest hoodie—Luke’s, of course—and dragged it over your chest with shaking hands. Your hair was a mess, your face was flushed, and your legs were very much still wrapped around your boyfriend.

Luke didn’t even flinch. He let out a long, tired sigh, like he’d just been asked to take the trash out during overtime.

Jack stood in the doorway, clutching a Gatorade like it was a weapon against sin. “Are you—” He gestured wildly. “—is this happening?! In the living room?! ON THE FLOOR?!”

Luke exhaled slowly like he’d been through this before. “You forgot to knock.”

“This is common space!” Jack cried. “This is shared air! And you’re—she’s—you’re both indecent!”

You groaned, hiding your face in Luke’s shoulder. “Jack, go away.”

But Jack wasn’t done. Not even close.

“You’re six years older than him!” he said, pointing at you like you were an ancient forest witch. “He was in middle school when you were graduating college. He had braces!”

Luke muttered, “I didn’t have braces. You had.”

“Whatever! You looked like someone who needed braces!”

You could feel Luke’s chest shaking with silent laughter under you.

Jack took a dramatic step back, clutching his Gatorade tighter. “This is a betrayal. A full-blown betrayal. I trusted you,” he said to you, eyes narrowed in mock devastation. “I loved you. I thought you were cool. Wise. Slightly scary, but like, in a hot babysitter way. Not in a ‘let me seduce your sweet, innocent, hockey-playing little brother on his living room floor’ way!”

“I didn’t seduce him,” you muttered into Luke’s shoulder.

“You didn’t need to! You’re older! That’s your superpower!”

Luke finally looked up, bored but amused. “You done?”

“No,” Jack said, walking backward toward the door like he was backing away from a crime scene. “I’m going to go scream into the void. Then I’m gonna call Mom. Then I’m burning this rug.”

“I thought you said it was your favourite rug,” Luke called after him.

“It was! Until you defiled it with your... hormones!” Jack cried, disappearing down the hall. “I need bleach. For my eyes. For my soul.”

The door slammed behind him.

Silence.

You let out a strangled sound against Luke’s neck. “I actually might die.”

Luke tilted his head and smiled lazily. “You were very hot in that whole panic moment.”

You smacked his chest. “You’re a baby, apparently. I’ve corrupted you.”

“Good,” he murmured, nuzzling your jaw. “Keep doing it.”

Right Where It Started

“There is no greater glory than the love of a man for his wife.”

The apartment smelled like garlic, rosemary, and something sweet—maybe that wine reduction he’d been fussing over all day. You pushed the door open and kicked off your shoes with a tired sigh.

You’d spent the entire day at a charity event with the other WAGs. And while it hadn’t been terrible, it was exhausting. Smiling nonstop for cameras, making polite conversation with women who weren’t all that kind behind closed doors—it wore on you.

But then you looked up.

There he was, standing in the kitchen with his sleeves rolled up, hair a mess, brow furrowed in concentration as he stirred something on the stove. He was biting his bottom lip, completely focused, completely unbothered.

And just like that, the tension slipped from your shoulders.

That’s what Luke did to you. Always had.

“Hey,” you said, voice soft.

He turned, a boyish grin spreading across his face. That same grin he gave you 2 years ago, when he was just this charming, overconfident hockey kid asking for a shot. “Perfect timing. Go sit. I made your favorite.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What’s the occasion?”

Luke shrugged, casual. “You’ve had a long day. I missed you. I felt like spoiling my girl.”

It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. That was just Luke—always showing up in quiet, thoughtful ways. Surprise takeout on your doorstep. Sticky notes tucked into your coat pocket. The night he drove four hours without a second thought, just to hold you while you cried.

He never asked for anything in return. He just loved you the way he knew how—steadily, wholeheartedly, without conditions.

He handed you a glass of wine and you let him pamper you, letting your guard down. Letting yourself feel safe. Loved.

Dinner was perfect. The pasta was creamy and rich, the salad actually crisp (a miracle when he was in charge), and the dessert—chocolate lava cake—almost made you cry. But it was the way he looked at you that made your heart ache in the best way possible. Like you were his entire world. Like he still couldn’t believe you were his.

You leaned back, full and warm. “You’re really trying to outdo yourself tonight.”

Luke smirked, his fingers fiddling with something under the table before he stood. “I’ve been planning this for a while.”

You tilted your head, intrigued. “Planning what?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he moved toward the light switch, dimming the lights and lighting a few candles along the counter. A soft amber glow filled the room, casting long shadows on the walls and making the space feel cozy, intimate. The kitchen, usually filled with the hustle and bustle of cooking, now felt like a sanctuary. The scents of fresh herbs, wine, and the lingering sweetness of dessert mixed in the air. It was as though the world outside this room no longer existed.

Luke reached for the speaker, pressing play. The soft strum of guitar filled the space, and the familiar sound of Zach Bryan’s Sun to Me began to play.

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. That song. The one he'd sent when you were apart because of his tight NHL schedule, telling you it reminded him of you. “Find someone who grows flowers in the darkest parts of you.”

And that was Luke. He’d always done that for you.

He looked at you, his eyes soft yet playful. “This song… it still reminds me of you.”

A smile tugged at your lips, warmth blooming in your chest. “I know,” you replied quietly. “You’ve told me before.”

He stepped closer, his hand outstretched. “Come here.”

You paused for a moment before he gently helped you to your feet. It felt natural, like the two of you had been waiting for this moment. He pulled you into his arms, the music surrounding you.

His hands rested on your waist as he moved with you to the rhythm of the song. “Yeah, but I’ll never stop saying it. Because it’s true. You’ve always been the one to grow flowers in me, Y/N. Even when I was at my lowest, when I didn’t believe in myself, you did. You never let me fall apart. You always saw the good in me, even when I couldn’t see it.”

A quiet silence settled between you as he pulled you even closer. His fingers traced the curve of your spine, sending a shiver down your back. You rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. The soft glow from the candles bathed the two of you in a golden light. The quiet hum of the song filled the room, and the rest of the world seemed to fade away.

You closed your eyes, letting the music wash over you. As the chorus played, you caught the lyrics again—“Find someone who grows flowers in the darkest parts of you.”

A tear slipped from the corner of your eye as you whispered, “You’ve always been that for me, too.”

He pulled back slightly, his gaze searching yours with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “I think that’s why I love this song so much. It’s like a reminder of us… of what we’ve built together.”

Your heart swelled as you smiled up at him. “Yeah, we’ve built a beautiful life together, haven’t we? I cherish the love we have, Luke. We really know how to support each other without losing ourselves in it.”

A soft smile tugged at his lips as he nodded. “Yes, we do. And you don’t know how grateful I am for you always being by my side—believing in me, loving me the way you do.”

You chuckled, resting your head back on his chest, inhaling deeply. His scent was soft and earthy, with a touch of sweetness. It was the kind of scent that wrapped around you like a gentle embrace, like home.

“I always believed in you, Lukey. And you make it so easy to do that.”

“Always,” he echoed softly, his voice filled with quiet conviction. Then, a playful glint danced in his eyes as he pulled you even closer. “I love you so damn much, you know that?”

You nodded, your heart full as you placed your hand gently on his chest. “I love you more.”

He grinned, but his expression shifted, becoming more serious. The weight of the moment settled between you both, the warmth of the kitchen and the intimacy of the dance making everything feel timeless. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving my love for you Y/N. I promise you that.”

Before you could respond, he stepped back, his gaze locking onto yours with such intensity that you felt it in your bones. You blinked, confused, and then he dropped to one knee.

Your breath caught in your throat. “Luke…”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet box. You gasped before he even opened it—because you knew that box. You’d seen it before. Years ago. After a sad day. When you almost walked away because the pressure got too much. And he’d stopped you, handed you that little box and just said,“I bought this after our first date.”

He opened it. The ring inside was simple, yet breathtaking, glowing softly in the warm light. It was the same ring he had shown you that day—back when you doubted whether you were enough for him.

You remembered how he had pulled you into his arms, his voice calm and unwavering as he promised that one day, he would marry you.

“You’ve been my everything since day one, Y/N,” he said, his voice full of emotion. “People said we wouldn’t make it. They said I was too young, that it’d never work. But you… you never let go of me. You showed me what real love is. You made me want to be better, to fight for this. To fight for us.”

He smiled—soft and sure, like he was holding every moment you’d shared right there in his chest.

“You’ve stood by me through everything—the pressure, the ups and downs of hockey. When it made me bitter, when it made me ugly… you were always there, patient, understanding. You helped me remember who I am beyond the game, and you never gave up on me, even when the world made it hard.”

He paused, eyes locked with yours, full of emotion.

“I promised you back then that I’d marry you someday. And now, in the same place where I first asked you to take a chance on me…I’m asking you to make me the luckiest man alive. Will you marry me and spend forever with me?”

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you choked out a laugh.

“Ohh Lukey….”

He grinned.

“Is that a yes, or…?”

“Of course I’ll marry you, Luke,” you whispered, your heart swelling with emotion. Gently, you cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing across his cheekbones as you caressed him softly. His eyes fluttered closed at your touch, and he leaned in, placing a soft kiss on the palm of your hand.

“I’m so grateful you never gave up on me, that you pushed me to take a chance on us, even when I hesitated. All those fears I had? They were nothing compared to the love and strength you’ve shown me. You’re the best man I’ve ever met, Luke Hughes. I’m so lucky to be yours.”

And just like that, the boy who once asked you to see past his age became the man you’d spend forever with.

[woozinhos]

Mingyu request where reader has been mean to him all day despite him being such a sweet heart regardless and she starts feeling bad and they have soft sex?🤲🥺

So much better than yelling|| Mingyu

Notes: also can I just say I can’t believe the ice bucket challenge has come back I’m scared fr also enjoy!!

You're still in a bad mood, your anger directed at Mingyu now. His sweetness and gentle touches only seem to make you more frustrated, and you snap at him. "Why are you being so nice to me when I'm clearly in a bad mood?" you ask coldly, crossing your arms. Mingyu's face falls, his expression hurt. "I'm trying to make you feel better," he says quietly. "But I guess I'm just making things worse."

He moves away from you, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back turned. His shoulders slump, and you can see the pout on his face even from behind. You soften slightly at his sad demeanor, feeling a pang of guilt for being mean to him. But your anger still bubbles beneath the surface, and you find yourself speaking harshly again.

"Maybe you should just leave me alone," you say, regretting the words as soon as they leave your mouth. Mingyu's body tenses, and for a moment you think he might actually get up and leave. Mingyu turns back to face you, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. "No," he says firmly, though his voice trembles. "I'm not going anywhere." He scoots closer to you, despite your harsh tone. "I know you're upset, but I care about you too much to just walk away."

His pout deepens as he reaches for your hand, holding it tightly in his own. "You can yell at me all you want, but I'm not leaving your side." Despite your anger, you can feel your heart melting at his determination. His sweetness and stubbornness are a deadly combination, and you can't help but feel guilty for being so mean to him.

You look away, unable to meet his eyes as you mutter, "Fine, do whatever you want." Mingyu looks at you with his big puppy eyes, his lower lip quivering slightly. "Please stop being mean to me," he says softly, his voice pleading. "I just want to help you feel better."

His expression is so sincere and vulnerable that it tugs at your heartstrings. You know you've been treating him unfairly, but your anger still simmers just below the surface. You look at him for a long moment, torn between wanting to apologize and holding onto your anger. Finally, you sigh heavily and say, "I'm sorry. I know I've been awful today."

Mingyu's face lights up with a small smile, and he squeezes your hand. "It's okay," he says, his voice gentle. "I forgive you." He leans in and kisses your forehead, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. Despite everything, you can't help but melt into his warmth and kindness.

Mingyu makes cute kissy faces at you, his pout now replaced by a playful grin. "Give me attention," he whines, giving you his best puppy dog eyes. You can't help but chuckle at his antics, your anger slowly dissipating. "You're such a needy baby," you tease, ruffling his hair affectionately.

He leans in closer, his lips hovering just above yours. "But I'm your needy baby," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin. Unable to resist any longer, you close the distance between you, capturing his lips in a soft kiss. He hums happily against your mouth, wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer.

"See? This is much better than yelling at me," he murmurs between kisses, his hands roaming over your body with renewed confidence. The kiss deepens as Mingyu's hands slide under your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. You can feel his desire growing as he presses against you, his body responding to your touch. He breaks the kiss for a moment, his eyes dark with need. "I want you," he says huskily, his voice low and rough. "I want to make you forget about everything else."

You nod, your earlier anger forgotten as desire takes over. Mingyu pulls off your shirt, revealing your skin to his hungry gaze. He kisses a path down your neck and chest, pausing to tease your nipples with his tongue. His hands work on removing the rest of your clothes, his movements becoming more urgent. As he undresses himself, you can see the evidence of his arousal, his cock already hard and throbbing.

"Let me take care of you," you whisper, your hands running down his chest and abs. "Let me show you how sorry I am." Mingyu's breath hitches as you touch him, his body responding to your words. "Y-you don't have to..." he starts, but you cut him off with a gentle kiss.

"I want to," you insist, pushing him down onto the bed and straddling his waist. "Let me make you feel good." You can see the surprise and desire in his eyes as you take control, your earlier anger now transformed into passion. He grips your hips, watching intently as you grind against him.

"Show me how sorry you are," he says, his voice husky with anticipation. "Show me how much you want me." You position yourself above Mingyu, feeling his hard cock pressing against your entrance. He groans as you tease him, sliding the tip through your folds but not letting him enter just yet.

"Please," he begs, his fingers digging into your hips. "Don't tease me." You smirk down at him, enjoying the way he's falling apart beneath you. "But I like seeing you desperate," you say, circling your hips in a slow, torturous motion.

Mingyu's eyes roll back in his head as you continue to tease him, his body trembling with need. "You're going to be the death of me," he gasps, his hands moving to cup your breasts. Finally, you take pity on him and slowly sink down onto his cock, inch by inch. The feeling of being filled is intense, and you let out a low moan as you adjust to his size.

Mingyu grins up at you, a hint of smugness in his expression despite his desperate state. "Did you forget how big I am, baby?" he asks, his hands moving to grip your thighs. You nod, biting your lip as you adjust to his girth. "I always do," you admit, starting to move slowly on top of him.

He watches you with dark eyes, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "You're so tight," he groans, thrusting up to meet your movements. "So perfect for me." The feeling of him filling you completely is overwhelming, and you lean down to capture his lips in a heated kiss. Your bodies move together in a slow, sensual rhythm, both of you savoring the moment after the earlier tension.

The room is filled with the sounds of soft moans and whispered praises as you and Mingyu make love. His hands roam your body gently, mapping every curve and dip as if committing you to memory. You ride him slowly, savoring the way his cock stretches you open with each thrust. His fingers tangle in your hair as he pulls you down for another kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a tenderness that makes your heart swell.

"I love you," he murmurs against your lips, his eyes full of adoration. "No matter how mad you get, I'll always love you." You smile at his words, feeling a sense of warmth spread through your chest. "I love you too," you whisper back, your movements becoming more urgent as your orgasm builds. "So much." Mingyu's hands grip your hips tighter as he senses your approaching climax, his own body tensing with the need to release. "Cum for me," he urges, his voice low and rough. "Let go."

You lean down to kiss and suck on Mingyu's neck, knowing how sensitive he is there. He lets out a low moan, tilting his head to give you better access. His fingers dig into your back as you continue to mark him, his hips thrusting up faster now. "You're going to leave a mark," he says breathlessly, but there's no protest in his tone.

"Good," you reply, nipping at his earlobe before whispering, "I want everyone to know you're mine." Mingyu's eyes darken at your possessive words, his grip on you tightening. "I am yours," he growls, his hips bucking up harder. "Always." You can feel him getting close, his cock twitching inside you as he struggles to hold back his release. "Let go for me, baby," you encourage, reaching down to rub your clit. "Cum with me."

Mingyu's body tenses as he feels your fingers on your clit, his breathing becoming erratic. "Fuck, I'm so close," he gasps, his eyes squeezing shut. You ride him faster, your movements becoming more frantic as you chase your own release. The feeling of his cock pulsing inside you combined with the sensation of his hands on your body pushes you over the edge.

"Mingyu," you cry out, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. Your body clenches around him, milking his cock as he spills deep inside you. He groans your name, his hips jerking up as he empties himself completely. His arms wrap around you tightly, holding you close as you both come down from your highs.

For a moment, there's only the sound of heavy breathing and the feeling of sweat-slicked skin pressed together. Mingyu presses gentle kisses to your forehead, whispering sweet words of love and devotion. Mingyu continues to hold you close, his cock still inside you as you both bask in the afterglow. He runs his fingers through your hair, his touch gentle and loving.

"That was amazing," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "You always know how to make me feel better." You smile against his chest, feeling content and happy in his arms. "You're the one who makes me forget about everything else," you say, nuzzling closer to him. He chuckles softly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. "Well, I'm glad I could help you relax," he says. "But next time, maybe we can avoid the angry part and just skip to the sexy part."

You laugh at his comment, playfully swatting his chest. "You're impossible," you tease, but there's no denying the warmth in your voice. Mingyu grins and pulls you in for another kiss, holding you tight as if he never wants to let go. "Only for you," he whispers against your lips.

[formulaonecrumbs]

junie please take your time, but i’m going to continue to send in requests!! more osc and reader getting into it when she starts randomly bleeding due to a flare up and she’s incredibly embarrassed but he cleans her up and at the end of the night they just do some cock warming, her just wanting him close to her

-🧸

little blood never hurt nobody🩸

Oscar Piastri x PCOS!reader

summary: reader experiences bleeding during sex, feels embarrassed, but oscar comforts her with gentle aftercare and closeness.

warnings: BLOOD, pcos flare-up, soft smut, cockwarming, oscar being perfect, “you didn’t ruin anything” energy

A/N: NOT PROOF READ. this happened to me mid-make out one time. the boy was not so nice 😃 ENJOY MY LOVELY!!! ❤️

⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘

it starts like any other night, slow and sweet and a little needy.

oscar’s mouth is warm on your skin, his hands steady as they trace down your waist, your hips, your thighs. you’re not rushing. you never do, not with him. everything’s quiet, your shared hotel room dim and peaceful, the sheets already rumpled beneath you.

his voice is low when he says it. “can i?”

you nod, already breathless. you love when he asks, even when he knows the answer. and god, you want him. badly. the kind of want that burns in your chest and settles heavy between your legs, all ache and longing.

but as he slides inside you, gentle and slow, you feel it—just a pinch. not pain, exactly. just pressure. a weird kind of fullness that feels… off.

you try to ignore it. you’re used to weirdness like this. flare-ups happen. sometimes your body misbehaves at the worst possible time.

but a few minutes in, oscar stilling deep inside you, you feel it. wetness. not the kind you want.

your heart drops.

“wait,” you whisper, voice suddenly tight.

he pulls back instantly, eyes searching your face. “what’s wrong?”

you blink fast, already feeling it between your thighs. shit. “i think i’m bleeding.”

he pauses. “you’re…?”

you nod, heart racing, eyes wide. “i didn’t think i was about to. i didn’t feel it earlier. i—fuck, i’m sorry.”

you move to sit up, to scramble away and fix it before he can see anything, but oscar’s already stopping you. his hands are gentle but firm, holding you still. “hey,” he says softly. “it’s okay. just—wait a sec.”

“i didn’t know,” you mumble, eyes stinging now. “it’s probably a flare up. i wasn’t expecting it.”

he brushes hair out of your face. “baby. it’s fine.”

“it’s not fine, i—i made a mess, i ruined the—”

“no, you didn’t.” he kisses your cheek. then your shoulder. then your collarbone. “you didn’t ruin anything. it’s not your fault.”

“but—”

“you think i care about a little blood?” he asks. “you’re in pain and worried and trying to apologize for something you can’t control. come on.”

you go quiet.

he kisses you again, softer this time, and then disappears into the bathroom. you hear the sink, the soft rustle of towels, and then he’s back, helping you gently out of bed.

“you don’t have to do this,” you say quietly, but he just shakes his head.

“yes, i do.”

he helps you clean up, careful and quiet, never making a face, never making it weird. he presses a kiss to your shoulder every time you start to say sorry again. tells you to stop apologizing. tells you he’s okay. more importantly—tells you you’re okay.

he changes the sheets after, tucks you back into the fresh ones, then slides into bed behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle.

your body still aches. your stomach’s cramping now, deep and annoying. your lower back is tight.

you curl into his chest, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. “can i…?” you whisper. “just for a bit?”

he knows what you’re asking.

he kisses your forehead. “yeah. of course.”

you guide him back inside you, slowly, carefully. it still aches a little, but it’s different this time—warm, grounding, comforting. he doesn’t move. just holds you there, his forehead against yours, breathing in time with you.

you feel full, but not overwhelmed. close, but not smothered.

his thumb brushes your hip. “better?”

you nod, already calmer. “yeah. thank you.”

“always,” he says softly. “you can ask me for anything.”

you close your eyes, and just breathe.

THE END :>

[gunwoo-bh]

The Night Shift - Part 5 [Min Yoongi x f!Reader]

MIN YOONGI x F!READER UniStudent!Yoongi AU SUMMARY: You chose a boring, quiet job at your campus’s 24-hour library for a reason: it kept you away from drama, gossip, and parties. It was positively uneventful. Until it wasn’t. Warnings: swearing, min yoongi being a cute flirty shit, teasing, reader not being used to attention is a warning because i feel that A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH. I am so excited, really, for all the love you've given this. Here's the next chapter. I also created a tag list at the end of each chapter or drabble I'll post, please do let me know if I forgot you. Send in an ask, or comment or like the chapter and I'll add you to it. I might take longer between chapter to posts as I'm figuring out where this is going considering I had no plan going into this. I hope you all enjoy! :D

THE NIGHT SHIFT

PART 5

You decided on day two of your new schedule that you are not a fan. 

Yes, having a normal sleeping schedule is quite nice. You see your friends more often, which is an infinite plus. But it’s busier, which you did not like. 

It's day three now, and you are cautiously optimistic that things have finally slowed down as the clock turns over to 9 p.m. With three hours left to go, you desperately try to work on your essay for your Korean language class. You have never worked a shift so busy before, and you’re positively tired. You’re staring absentmindedly at your laptop, distracted by the noise of students just outside the main area. 

You begin to type away, glancing up every once in a while to make sure everything is okay as you get lost in essay writing. This is the only time you get to have some decent studying time, at least for the next few days. Eunji’s mother and much younger siblings are in town visiting, staying with you for the week, and lovely humans they are. The kids are full of energy and love cuddling with their big sister to watch movies. 

Hwayoung and you have given them space for the next few days at the apartment, going out to study, but with your work schedule changing, it hasn’t been easy. It’s taking some time to adjust, and you know you will adapt, but it’s proven difficult.

You don’t know how much time passes until you’re startled by a hand appearing in front of your screen as you snap your head up at your intruder. You break out into a smile when your eyes lock with Yoongi’s. You quickly glance at what he placed in front of you, and bite your lower lip, “Ah, energy!” You grab the peeled tangerine and begin eating, “You scared me.”

You’re pouting when he leans on the desk, “Didn’t mean to, but I’ve been standing there waiting for you to notice.”

Your eyes grow wide, “You’re lying!?”

“Nope. Peeled the whole thing while you were staring at your laptop.” He licks his lips, a grin tugging at his mouth. 

Your mouth is open, processing what he’s saying, “I’m sorry?”

He shrugs, “Homework?”

“Korean Language class essay.” His nose wrinkles and upper lip pulls up, making you giggle as you cover your mouth. “Not a fan?”

He shakes his head, “Nope, I was good at it, but was never a fan of it.”

You pop another piece of tangerine in your mouth, “Thank you.” You raise what’s left in your hands, and he nods in understanding. “So, you stopping by just for this or to study?”

He looks around, looking back and nodding to the remnants of the fruit in your hand, “Just that,” you look so pleased at that, “oh, and this too…” his hand pops up over the counter, and he slips his phone in front of you. What’s more surprising is that it’s open on a brand new contact page.

Is he really…?

“Huh?” Why is that the only thing that comes out of your mouth?

It must amuse him because he’s chewing the inside of his cheeks, attempting to stop a grin from growing, “Could I get your number?”

Your hands gently grab his phone, pulling it closer as you glance at him once more, and you hum while staring at the device, “Mhm.” 

You enter your name and information, playfully adding the closest thing to a tangerine emoji next to your name as you hand it back, and he looks down at it. You hear your phone buzz right away, frowning while looking at him as you reach for your phone. It’s an unknown number and you can’t help the sheer happiness showing in your laugh lines when you add his number to yours. 

When you look up at him, he’s peeling another tangerine while looking at you, “So, any special reason for this?” 

He shrugs, “It’s better than only getting to talk here, no?”

He wants to talk to you, that’s what you take out of this. You nod, “Yeah, way better.” 

He looks around and says, “You off at midnight?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m meeting with my friends nearby, but I’ll come back and walk you home.” 

You want to protest his working you into his time, but he doesn’t give you a moment to do so, handing you the second tangerine. You take it, smiling as he grabs his bag and turns around to leave. You sit there, half a tangerine in one hand and another one in the other as you laugh to yourself. What is happening? 

You put both fruits down and text your friends right away, sending them a photo of the tangerines. 

You [9:27 PM]: You guys were right, he did show up ><

You put the device down to eat more of the tangerine, and you just manage to finish the first one when your friends respond. 

Hwayoung [9:31 PM]: I told you he would. He can’t stay away for too long. (wink emoji)

Eunji [9:32 PM]: Still treating you right I see? (flirty emoji)

You [9:32 PM]: He didn’t just come by for those. He asked for my number (blushing emoji)

You see both of them type at the same time and laugh softly at how excited they are for you.

Hwayoung [9:34 PM]: Atta boy!! 

Eunji [9:34 PM]: YES! Get that number! God, I’m so happy for you!!!

Hwayoung [9:34 PM]: You’ll have to tell us the whole story when you get home!! I wanna watch your face!

Eunji [9:35 PM]: Are you ridiculously happy right now?! Because I’m so happy for you!

You [9:35 PM]: I am! But you’ll also never guess what else?

Eunji [9:36 PM]: ??????

Hwayoung [9:36 PM]: Please just tell us!

You [9:37 PM]: He left, and he’s coming back to walk me home! ><

The onslaught of texts you get reacting to that makes you laugh harder, keeping your laughter as low as possible. You put your phone aside as you go back to writing your essay. You still hear it buzzing a few times before it goes quiet again. 

You're back on track now. You’ve done another walkthrough of the library and put away any stray books, helped a few people along the day, and you’re now trying to make headway with your essay, finally settling in for the last two hours of your shift. 

You don’t know why these last five minutes are going so slowly. The security guard has already shown up to wish you a good night. You stand up from your spot and gather your bag, and right as you’re thinking he might not show, you look up to see Yoongi on the other side of the turnstiles. You release the breath you had been holding as you meet him, exiting the library, and he’s looking at you with a soft smile.

“Good to go?” 

You nod, adjusting your bag on your shoulder, and he immediately extends his hand to you, “What?”

“Gimme the bag, lemme carry it.” Out of habit, you open your mouth to protest, but he’s already grabbing it from you. You’re walking along with him as he slings your bag over his shoulder like it’s nothing. 

Everything about him surprises you. He’s been so open with you and willing to be around you, even though a few weeks ago, you were essentially strangers. You watch him as he shoots someone a text, stuffing his phone in his jacket before looking over to you. 

“How was work?” He’s cutely chewing on his upper lip.

“I hate it.” You make him snort with your quippy response. “I mean it, I don’t like this shift, but I guess the more reasonable sleeping hours are nice?”

He smacks his lips and smiles, “What do you hate?”

“It’s way busier, and noisier. I liked that it was boring. I got to do all my work usually and I could even walk around. I guess I got comfortable with it?” You shrug as he nods. 

“And now, awful students are keeping you busy?” He’s teasing, and you can tell from his eyes.

Pouting at him, you nod, “Mhm. It sucks.” 

He laughs, and it’s really the first time you get to hear his laughter. It’s higher than his speaking voice and very boyish, but very nice all the same. Enough to give you butterflies at least, and you definitely try to ignore that feeling as he nudges you with his shoulder.

“You hungry?”

Your eyes snap up to his as you both come to a stop, “Always.”

Yoongi grins while looking around, “Wanna grab food?”

There is the smallest of insecure voices inside your head telling you to decline his offer, not to bother him considering how late it is, but you’re glad that you seem to like following your heart as you nod, “What did you have in mind?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know…what do you like?” 

“Fried chicken?” 

He looks over to his left then back at you, “I know a place. You wanna?”

You nod, eager to eat and to spend more time with him, “Yeah.”

You both walk off campus with you following him as he confidently guides you to a small restaurant just at the beginning of the main street near the University. You frown when you realize how very little you go out to new places, because you never even knew this was here as you walk in when Yoongi opens the door for you.

It’s nice and quaint, but it smells amazing as you smile when the wonderful owner welcomes you. She sees Yoongi behind you and says, “Ah! There you are, I was beginning to wonder where you went!” 

He shyly looks down, bowing and apologizing, “I’ve been busy with school and the restaurant.” She sweetly walks right over to hug him as he stands there and then she looks at you.

There’s a silent look shared between them as she personally guides the both of you over to a table and sits you down. You chuckle as she walks to the kitchen and you finally get a moment to look to Yoongi.

“You don’t just know a place. You know a place.” He blushes, rubbing the back of his neck as he slips his coat off. 

“She’s uh, she’s my mom’s best friend.” He confesses. 

You smile, biting your lower lip as you slip your coat off too, “That’s sweet.” 

He shrugs, “She always chastises me.”

“Why?” You’re amused by the imagery.

“I don’t visit often enough. I don’t eat enough. I don’t bring my friends enough. I don’t…” he trails off, pausing like he’s considering what he’s going to say next as he takes a quick glance at you, “I don’t have a girlfriend to show off…” he grabs the water already at the table. 

Your cheeks grow warm, looking over your shoulder to the kitchen as you wonder what his mom’s best friend thought when she saw you. They definitely shared a look when he briefly introduced you. 

“She’s a mom, I’m assuming?” He nods. “Then, I guess those are just mom things to worry about.”

He sighs, “She’s not just a mom. She’s Namjoon’s mom.” 

Your eyes grow wide as you snap your head back to where you can see her in the back, looking back to Yoongi, “Really?”

Yoongi nods, “Mhm.”

“So, you guys are really close?” 

Yoongi stays silent, looking over your shoulder, and Namjoon’s mom comes to your table, placing some side dishes and two beers. She smiles at both of you and says, “Are you two talking about me?”

You mouth the air, looking to Yoongi for help, and he thankfully provides it, “She has a class with Namjoon. I was just telling her–”

“I’m his mom!” She looks so proud when she announces it too, and you soften. 

Yoongi sits there as you talk to Namjoon’s mom, listening to her sharing stories of her son and Yoongi. You love just how embarrassed Yoongi gets when she tells some story about their teens as he stops her, “Wait, wait, can…can we eat and not tell every embarrassing thing Namjoon and I have done, because we’ll be here for days…”

Your eyes widen as you stare at him, biting your lip to stifle your laughter and mouthing, “Really?”

He nods, glancing back and forth, “I have to walk her home, we’re gonna eat and go, mhm?”

He and Namjoon’s mom, whose name you come to find out is Jungyoon or Mrs. Kim, are having a standoff staring context as she relents, “Fine. I’ll let you kids eat. Enjoy the food and let me know if you need anything.” 

You bow to her, smiling brightly as you look at the side dishes. She returns seconds later with many different kinds of chicken for you two to have as you thank her one more time. You glance up to him and he nods at you, digging into the food. 

Every bite brings a satisfying fullness to your starving stomach, smiling with every piece of chicken you eat. He reaches to open the beers but you stop him, shaking your head with a full mouth. You finish your bite, “I don’t drink. You can have it if you’d like.” 

He looks back to the cooler and stands up, taking the second beer with him and he returns with a soda for you instead, “This okay?” 

You nod, stunned into silence, “Mhm.” 

It’s nearly 1:30 am when you both finish eating and talking.

He’s much more of a talker than you had imagined and there’s so much you’ve found out about him. Time has flown by, and soon enough you are both saying your goodbyes to Mrs. Kim who sends you off with leftovers and a warm hug. 

Yoongi stands off to the side before she brings him into a hug, making you laugh at the wrinkle in his nose. You’re quickly learning he doesn’t seem to be a fan of physical affection, but that if anything, his love language seems to be acts of service. This man doesn’t stop with the smallest gestures that make your heart skip a beat. You fear you’ll have no heart left to skip if he keeps this up. 

He’s back to carrying your bag, but this time he leaves you to carry the leftovers sent home with you by Mrs. Kim. You did steal the bag directly from him without giving him any thought to be fair. 

You look up to him and smile, “Thank you.” 

His eyebrows raise, “It wasn’t much.” 

“It was, though.” He looks surprised by your soft, thankful tone. “I just appreciate it.”

You notice something about Yoongi. He really struggles with being thanked for what most would think of as sweet gestures, things that aren’t often just done with people you’ve just met. It seems to come naturally to him, despite, what some people have called, a cold appearance. 

Min Yoongi is soft. 

“So, do you often do this or is this new to you?” You’re teasing. You don’t actually expect him to answer.

“Do what?” 

“Take girls you’ve recently met to late night fried chicken and walk them home.” You feel your heart sink in your chest when you realize just how close to your apartment the restaurant was. Or have you been so in your head that you never noticed time passing?

The silence is comfortable, the ambient noises of the streets a comfortable background noise as you watch him. His face speaks for him more than he seems to be aware of too. You wouldn’t admit it to him, but you could watch him for hours probably. To watch the way his eyes process things, how they dance side to side or how quickly he’s blinking. Or the way he licks his lips, tongue sometimes poking out or how he smacks his lips together. Min Yoongi is very expressive, and his face tells a story. 

And while you’re getting to slowly understand what story he might be telling, nothing prepares you for what he says next. Yoongi comes to a complete stop, his face neutral as he takes you in. He licks his lips, exhaling loudly yet again.

“No.”

You think this is it, his answer, but he continues. 

“That’s specifically reserved for you.” 

“Oh.”

You don’t know what you expected but it wasn’t this, and he can tell. He’s satisfied with your reaction because he tugs you by the elbow, gently tugging you to keep walking up your street. You’re quiet, processing his words. You never expected him to be this bold, and honest. 

And that’s fucking hot.

“Cat got your tongue?”

You snap your head to him in mild shock, wondering if he knows you’ve compared his looks to being cat-like. You feel heat rise in your cheeks, opening and closing your mouth. The smallest whine leaves your lips and you use your free hand to feel how warm your cheek is. One quick glance to Yoongi tells you it pleases him to see you react like that. 

“Stop.”

“Mhm?” He looks at you, moving to face you. “Say that again?”

“I said stop.” You’re embarrassed, trying to hide your face as he chuckles. “Oppa, stop!”

Your eyes grow wide immediately, realizing what you’ve just said. Oh no. You look up to meet his eyes, and he doesn’t look nearly as shocked as you are. No, instead, he’s smirking and trying to hide his amusement from you, but failing. 

“I…I–” you start, but he chuckles, catching you off guard.

Should you be offended by that laugh?

“I’m not making fun of you, I swear. I’m sorry.” He extends his hand to your arm, gently tugging and squeezing it softly. “We’re close, let’s get you home, okay?”

You agree, following him the rest of the way as you try to tame your jittery heart. You look up to your building when you both come to a stop, shyly looking down to your feet. 

“So…” your voice is small, looking up at him. “I wanted to say sorry…”

“Why?”

“Because I called you Oppa, and I know we’re nowhere near close enough…” You admit.

Yoongi takes a few steps closer to you, leaning down to look into your eyes, “Can I be honest with you?”

You meet his eyes, a kindness yet playfulness about them, “Mhm.”

“It’s not the first time you’ve called me that.”

Your world turns upside down as you frown, “Huh?”

“We were right here the last time you called me that.” He glances around to your building. “I gave you the keychain.” 

“I don’t…I don’t remember that.” He smiles at that confession. “I really don’t.” 

“That’s okay.” He stands tall. “I do. And I don’t mind it.” 

“You don’t?” 

He shakes his head, grinning as he chews on the inside of his cheek, “I like it.”

You blush even more, “Oh…”

There’s a comfortable, but emotionally charged silence between the both of you. You look at him and he seems to understand the heaviness of this moment as he slips your bag off his shoulder, “Don’t overthink it, okay? It’s late and you said you had a class in the morning.”

You nod as you grab your bag and you look at him, “Okay.”

“Promise?” He holds out his pinky to you, staring at it for a moment before returning the gesture.

“Promise.” You say as he lets go of your hand. 

He smiles softly, hands in his coat as he nods to your building, “Go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

The promise of that makes your eyes soften, smiling softly as you nod, “Goodnight, and thank you.”

He watches as you step into your apartment, every moment of the last fifteen minutes replaying in your head over and over the entire ride up to your apartment. Your feet take you into your apartment and through your routine. Leftovers are put neatly in the fridge, your coat hangs on the rack, you wash up and change before slipping under the covers of your bed. 

You’re staring at the ceiling when your phone screen lights up the room, reaching for it blindly in the darkness as your eyes adjust to the light. Unlocking it and going to your messages your breath catches in your throat as you read Yoongi’s very first text to you. 

Yoongi [2:13 AM]: I meant it. I like you calling me Oppa.

Here is the official tag list for this series. If I forgot anybody? Please comment or send in an ask, I will try to diligently add you! :D

tag list: @muchwita @kam9404 @ot72025 @lalazilz @janeelizabeth1216 @rinkud @yngisstuff @lolpanda94 @angelicbunnee @wubbz05 @illicitelle @legendarydreamqueen @flyxfall @mintmango-min @moorepls @gojomyoneandonly

Post separator credit to @hyuneskkami

[morality-or-chains]

Bryce is used to cleaning oceans, crystal clear water, tanning in the sun and enjoying a nice breeze. So places like this feel odd to him, off somehow in a way that he can't entirely put his finger on. There's value to them of course, after all he's fairly certain the Lynch's own the police department which just isn't easily feasible in a place like California.

But still the tall grass, the humidity, the fucking spiders. It's all very rural, but still he's not about to bitch about such a trivial thing -- not right now anyways, maybe later with a cold drink. For now he's stuck to being ignored at the whims of a man he's fairly certain he likes but it's depending on the hour.

They stop by some desiccated shit stain of a house and Bryce thinks that they might be here to kill someone. He doesn't mind so much, he's wearing black, but a little warning would have been nice. He gets out of the truck, takes the pistol without thinking about it and then his words sink in.

I want you to shoot me.

Bryce blinks, looks down at the revolver, looks back up. "Pardon?"

Sometimes he does hear things like please shoot me when he talks to particularly annoying people, but that's usually in Bryce's head and it's not spoken out loud. There's only one bullet, he watched Josiah fumble with it in the truck. "You want me to ... " His face breaks into a teasing smile, "Is this a kink thing? Color me motherfuckin' fascinated. I'll try anything once."

Bryce playfully points the weapon at Josiah, finger along the trigger guard, not taking it all that seriously, because he's got to be kidding. Right? "Okay, lover boy, where you want me to shoot my load?"

they were beyond the low cornfields now, the little town of hope not quite disappeared behind them, but feeling far enough back that it was almost like a distant scent in the air. if you took the country roads out here, you could go for miles before finding much else than other little scattered towns, the odd farmhouse or two. a church. and, thrown in at random between, little abandoned properties with run-down, half-standing structures.

this is where josiah parked now, offering no response to the question asked a minute or two earlier. he'd decided to let bryce squirm, to wonder, to pester if he wanted about the where, the why, the what, the who... always asking. that thirst to know everything was like a ghost of a past self. josiah used to want to be the one to hold every answer, too, once. to bend will to his desire, to shape reality to best fit his telling of it.

now, he learned most of the time, it was better to leave shit well alone. you get wrapped up in things you shouldn't, the more you ask, the more you know. he turned off the truck, some rotten, haunted old house a loom of sadness a little ways before them, with little else but trees and the edge of the fields to accompany them. it kinda looked like somewhere you'd bury a dead body.

it took a moment, hands clearly inexperienced with handling the piece, but he figured out how to open the chamber, dump the bullets into his hand && get deposited in the empty cup-holder between the two, keeping only one of the set in his fingers. replaced the solitary little metal bead back inside the barrel, and gave it a spin, before sending a glance to bryce && leaving the truck. " c'mon. we're gonna dirty up my truck."

he crossed around the front of the hood, looking a little nervous... but oddly calm, jaw set. less afraid than when jesse held a firearm to his temple in front of an audience, certainty. finally, josiah gave answer to all of bryce's wondering. held the gun by it's barrel, safety on, offering the handle out to bryce.

" i want you to shoot me. "

and if it he still afraid after the first pull of the trigger... he'd have bryce do it again. and again. until the gun found it's one bullet inside && went off, or he stopped fearing it might.

[theocddiaries]

Rouge: Shadow, what did you think of the kiss? Shadow: What? Rouge [enunciating]: The cheese. From the lunch snacks I bought yesterday. I'm ordering from there again. So, did you like their cheese, or should I go somewhere else for your food? Shadow: Uh, yeah, there's okay. I don’t care. [Rouge tilts her head to the side. Opens her mouth to speak and Topaz arrives at the cubicle] Topaz: Hey, Shadow, are you in love? Shadow: What? Topaz: Reports. Are you done with my reports? Shadow: Yes. Here. [hands them over] Topaz [walking away]: Thanks! Rouge: Hun, are you okay? Shadow: Yes. Yes, all good—Damn him. [kneels down to hide himself] Sonic [arriving where she is]: Hey, Rouge, have you seen Shadow today? Shadow [signaling her to say no] Rouge: N--No? He just left. Why? Sonic: I need to talk to him. Do you know if he’ll be back soon? Rouge [glancing subtly downward]: N--Yes? No? Sonic: Is it yes or no? Rouge: I don’t know? I mean, they sent him out on a mission, I’m not sure how long he’ll take. Sonic: Well, if you see him or he contacts you, please tell him I really need to talk to him, okay? [Abraham walks through the cubicles, looking at his tablet and trips over Shadow while Sonic's talking, falling face-first. Sonic rounds the desk just in time to see Shadow getting up and helping Abraham, who dismisses him grumpily and walks off to his office.] Rouge: …Well, looks like he's back. See? I really didn’t know a thing. Sonic: Shadow, stop avoiding me. We need to talk about what happened yesterday. [Rouge leans in, ears piqued. Both hedgehogs look at her. She notices.] Rouge: Do you want me to leave? Shadow: Yes. Sonic: Please. Rouge: But like, leave leave or can I just walk around and maybe catch a key word—? Sonic: Rouge, leave. Rouge: Shadow’s gonna tell me later anyway! Shadow: No, I won’t. Topaz: Rouge, come here for a sec, please! Rouge: Great timing… Well, tell me later, Shadow! Shadow: I’m not telling you anything, stop being annoying! [Rouge walks off ignoring him] Shadow: And I have nothing to talk about with you. One, because nothing happened. And two, because I’m working. Sonic: Fine, let’s do it your way, then. Sir, would you staple these papers, explain why you kissed me yesterday and then ran off— Shadow [shushes him] Sonic: And while you’re at it, get me a cup of water, because I’ve been running around, looking for you everywhere and I’m thirsty. Shadow: I told you I’m working. Get out of here. Sonic: Okay. But can I please have the water? The thirst part was true. Shadow: …Yes, okay. [fills a paper cup and throws the water at him] Sonic: Joke’s on you, now I’m running around all nice and refreshed.

Next

[em-harlsnow]

heyy i've never sent an ask before but i just need to tell you that debbie's tiktok is my new favourite thing 😭😭 i genuinely can't stop thinking about them doing different trends and how the fans would react. like imagine a qna with questions from the comments or something with more of the family like a who knows me best: brother/sister vs husband

YES okay. I've been stressed all day and I need this. (Also rewarding myself with writing because I got a result back for some coursework and I was so happy with it)

part 4 of Debbie's TikTok

So Debbie sets up the camera again in the kitchen. Ian and Mickey are less annoyed this time after they realised that she was actually paying them good money for this. She has a list on her phone filled with comments on the introduction to Mickey video.

"Okay, so you're gonna be answering some questions together." Debbie starts. It's the first time the internet will be seeing them together, and she's eager to see the reaction that will come of it. She's going to be careful not to give her audience too much of them, because then she'll get less views and attention and therefore money after they get bored.

"Yeah, you said that." Mickey says.

"She's saying it for the camera." Ian mutters loudly to his husband.

"Alright. I have a list of some of the most liked or most frequent questions asked. The first one is when did you get married?" Debbie asks, ignoring their little comments.

Mickey stares at the side of Ian's head, eyebrows raised.

"What?" Ian asks.

"You better fucking know the answer." Mickey says.

"Of course I do, asshole. Three and a half months ago." Ian answers, smugly grinning in Mickey's face.

"Yep." Debbie says. "It was a really nice day. Next, who proposed to who?" One of the most frequent comments was actually who fucks who, but she doesn't think that's something that should be on the internet. She thinks it's shitty that people think they have the right to know that. She's actually pretty mad that she knows the answer to the question, because it just shows how loud Ian and Mickey are.

"He did." Mickey says. "Because he was being a dick."

Ian sighs. "Yeah, I did."

"Twice." Mickey adds, sulkily.

"We're married, Mickey. And I know you aren't actually still mad about that. You're just looking for something to bitch about." Ian grumbles, flicking Mickey's ear.

"No, I'm not."

"I proposed. And I had a whole speech prepared, but Mickey cut me off. Then he made me repeat it later." Ian says, smiling at the tips of his mouth.

Mickey smirks, leaning back in his chair. He's switched to smug, now. "Yeah."

"Next question was how old were you when you got together?" Debbie asks, planning on letting them have their little arguments and banter and deciding which parts to cut out later. Their dynamic will definitely give her good content.

"I was fifteen." Ian says. "You were... sixteen? Seventeen?"

"Sixteen." Mickey answers. "But that was the first time we fucked, not when we were together."

"Oh, well yeah." Ian agrees. "We were like 18 and 19 or something when we actually got together."

"Yeah." Mickey agrees.

"Okay. So, who's more romantic?" Debbie asks. It's not a particularly long list, but they both talk a lot, so it will make a decent video.

"I am." Ian says.

"Neither of us." Mickey says at the same time.

"I'm romantic." Ian argues, pouting about it.

"How?"

"I made you breakfast yesterday."

"Then you called me fat when I stole your PopTart." Mickey mutters.

"I did not fucking call you fat. I called you greedy, because you were being greedy." Ian says, appalled and gaping at Mickey.

"Maybe you were being greedy by not sharing your fucking PopTarts." Mickey pouts.

"I'm plenty romantic, Mickey. I arrange all our things."

"What things?"

"Like going on dates and shit. I arrange that."

"Yeah? Well I suck your monster dick all the time, so shut the fuck up."

"That's not romantic!" Ian shouts.

"Yes it is! It's something you fucking like. It's 'acts of service'." Mickey replies, eyebrows high on his forehead.

"You read that article I sent you? About love languages?" Ian asks, losing focus on the argument. It's not even an argument, anyway, considering neither of them are raising their voices.

Mickey shrugs. "I skimmed it."

Ian smiles at him. "Thanks."

"Fuck you." Mickey mutters, rolling his eyes when Ian puts his arm around his shoulder.

Debbie scrolls to the next question. "What's the key to having a solid relationship?" She asks.

Mickey grimaces and Ian gives a similar expression.

"Fucking a lot?" Mickey suggests.

"Shut up." Ian says, rolling his eyes. "We don't just fuck."

"We do fuck a lot, though."

"Not all the time." Ian says, widening his eyes at Mickey like he's trying to communicate without speaking. Debbie knows enough about them to tell that it's probably something to do with Ian's bipolar. How when he's low, they don't fuck at all. Or at least Debbie hopes they don't fuck at all. She knows Mickey, knows Mickey would definitely not do that.

Mickey sighs, losing the unspoken argument. "Yeah, fine. We don't just fuck."

Ian turns back to Debbie. "I don't know. There's no key. We just look after each other. We're good at telling each other when we're pissed off."

"Yeah." Mickey agrees, not having much to add.

"The next one's pretty deep, so if you don't want to answer it you don't have to. Or I don't have to put it in the video. But it's for Mickey. One person DMed me and asked how you cope as a partner of someone with bipolar disorder. They said they were struggling." Debbie says, a little embarrassed to be asking so she keeps her eyes down. A couple people DMed her about it.

Ian scoffs a little at the word 'cope', but ultimately stares at Mickey and waits for his answer. Clearly more concerned with what Mickey thinks about it more than the implications of the question.

"How do they know he's bipolar?" Mickey asks, brows furrowed.

"Because his arrest was all over the news." Debbie replies. "I haven't spoken about it on TikTok."

"Oh. I don't know." Mickey replies. "It's not... I dunno. It's just something that's there. It's never been a question for me, we just deal with whatever fucking happens with it. It's like, everyone has some kind of shit. I'll cope with whatever I fucking have to."

"Do you want that online?" Debbie asks. "It's fine if not."

Mickey shrugs, looking to Ian. Ian seems a bit choked.

"Yeah, that's fine. People should probably hear more about mental illness and being happy." Ian says, but his arm around Mickey is strong and tight.

"Okay, well that's the only heavy one. The next one was pretty common: why did it take you ten years to get married? Oh, I guess that is sort of heavy." Debbie says.

Ian bobs his head in consideration. "Well, we were pretty young when we started. Then someone got sent to prison for a little while."

Mickey tuts at him. "False fucking accusations." He mutters. "But it was mainly prison. And my dad."

"Yeah." Ian agrees. "Mickey's dad's a prick. I hate the bastard."

"Oh, no. You've been so subtle about it." Mickey mutters sarcastically.

"It's not like you like my dad any better."

"Are you guys affectionate? A lot of people couldn't imagine you being together or like... couple-y, I guess." Debbie says. "But maybe they won't think that now that they see you together."

"What the fuck does that even mean?" Mickey asks.

"We're married. Obviously we're couple-y." Ian scoffs.

"Do something couple-y then." Debbie orders.

"His arm's around my fucking shoulders. Wouldn't let anyone else do that gay shit." Mickey says, and Ian laughs.

That's great, Debbie decides. Viewers will find that funny. She clicks off the camera and lets them go, starting the editing on the video. She definitely wants to make more content of them in the future. She's planning a video with the whole family, actually, but it will be hard to get everyone free and actually make them all speak one at a time.

-> part 1, part 2, part 3

-> sorry this one's a bit shorter, but if anyone has any ideas for what questions they'd be asked or any comments which people would leave, send me an ask!

[fomfarms]

Okay, so I have a very specific vision! Could you write headcanons for a farmer who is dating Balor, and one night the farmer can't sleep so they go out for a walk. Balor happens to be at his wagon, so he invites them to cuddle up with him and sleep there? And like, it's all fluffy and vulnerable because it's the first time that they JUST sleep while sharing a bed. Thanks!

You tossed and turned, as the crickets outside sang the night away.

Usually this humming buggy lullaby had you absolutely konked out-- especially after a long day-- but for some reason, despite your heavy lids and tired limbs, you were still very much awake.

You turned over once more, seeing the silhouette of your peacefully sleeping pet tinted with the warm glow of light from the fire place. Guess they won't be awake to keep you company. You flopped onto your back, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the crickets chirp on, the fireplace crackle quietly-- you close your eyes. Deep breath in, deep breath out-- you can do this.

...

You can't do this.

After a while of lying there, body still, eyes shut, breathing lulled-- you were still wide awake.

Ugh.

Maybe your body needed a bit more convincing that it was tired.

In full silence you got up, wrapped a blanket around your shoulders, crossed to floor, and headed out into the starry night.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The night air was crisp and light-- it filled your lungs with a soothing liveliness that, though not sleep inducing, defiantly calmed you.

You won't shy away from admitting it, but you love this time of night.

Everything's still and quiet and peaceful. Depending on the time and depending on the day, there's the occasional rustle of life somewhere in the distance-- some frog in the grass or fish in the river or late night bustle sounding cheerful in the distance-- but mostly it was just silence. An endless expanse of stars, and roads, and the distance sound of everything being asleep.

Except you though.

You had been walking a considerable distance, and even though you still felt the weight of unanswered sleep draped over you, you were definitely still awake.

'Hrm... maybe a nice tea or a warm mug of milk will help things along...' you thought as you walked with heavy feet down the path to town.

Suddenly, you here a noise in the distance-- the tell tale sound of hoof beats and creaky wagon wheels that puts a smile on your face, and makes your heart leap.

You wait at the top of the hill as the noise gets louder, and as the wagon crests the hillside, you see a familiar face in the dim moonlit, brightening at the sight of you.

"Well now, what's an honest farmer like you doing out and about amongst the sleepless and the scoundrels?" Balor greeted warmly, his chart pulling up beside you and coming to a stop, "Burning the mid night oil, love?"

You let out a tired chuckle, "Couldn't sleep. Thought a walk might tucker me out."

"Well, you look tuckered enough to me-- want a ride back to the farm?" He offered a hand with a side of dashing smile-- you'd been together for a while, but he always still found ways to some how make you swoon. You think it was that smile of his-- you could've sworn he polished it like a fine gem.

He goes off on his supply and delivery runs often, and you'd seen him off and back again at least a dozen times-- and somehow still, every time you watched him come home, it always lifted your spirits and put your mind at ease. You mused on that feeling as you returned his smile.

"Please." You took his hand, the warmth from palm to palm rushing all the way to your heart. You keep your eyes fixed on him as he pulled you up, and you pasted over the pull to lean in and kiss him.

It was brief, but it left you feeling full all the same. And you suspected he felt the same as his looked softened at the words, "It's nice to have you home, Bay." washed over him.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

'Home.'

Balor pondering the word and the feelings that came with it as he guiding his tired horse through the night.

You had begun the ride curled up next to him, leaning your weary brow on his shoulder-- but when the jostling seemed to be keeping you awake, he'd suggested you climb into the cart and make yourself at home. He'd left out his bedding anyways, all you had to do was crawl in. He promised to wake you when you reached the farm.

It was a strange feeling-- having a place to call home, and even more, someone to come home to. Strange, but not bad.

...It definitely threw a wrench into his carefully haphazard plans but....

Maybe he didn't mind. Maybe it was for the better. Maybe---

Ugh, maybe this was too much contemplating for this last at night.

Especially not when there was a sleepy farmer all curled up cozy in his bed. Focusing on that was much more enticing than pondering the moral dilemma that them and their cute smile and charming wit had caused him.

He slowed the cart to a roll, hitching his horse outside your farm. Maybe if he played his cards right he could bridal carry you into your bed and you could both spend the night with an extra bit of warmth beside you. Heavens knows he needed it after another long trip alone in the cart.

That was the other thing about having a home and someone to come home to-- it made the long stretches of being alone in a cart all the more harder to bare. How can he just go back to a cot in the back of the wagon when he's known what it's like waking up in a warm bed next to someone so wonderful...

Ugh-- more troubles to chew on later!

He opened the back of his wagon, he was about to say something but was immediately silenced by your sleeping form.

'Hm-- guess the motion of the cart lulled them to sleep...'

He looked down at you, all cozy and peaceful and sweet, contemplating the best way to get you into your bed without waking you.

Although... seeing you curled up in his blankets suddenly didn't make sleeping in a cart look so bad... suddenly it was sort of looking like the best place for him to be... and there was JUST enough room for a man about his size to squeeze in--- of course it would mean he'd half to snuggle up real close to you to fit, but that was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

He smiled mischievously as took off his cloak and boots and began to carefully ease his way in. You stirred enough to tuck yourself into him, but not enough to wake. He carefully shimmied a pillow under your heads and draped a blanket over you both, and you returned the favor by snuggling in closer.

He let his arms wrap around you, staring lovingly at your face as it snuggled into his chest.

'hmm... welcome home, Balor...' you said half asleep.

His smile soften, and he let out a sigh as he kissed your forehead, and let his body ease beside you.

'Good night, Love.'

Yeah, he could...

He could get used to this.

[dollbotthing]

so when you get a call from a “possible spam risk” do you just hang up or what ok when you call first you are a “possible spam risk” so you hang up ok but then when you call again you are just “spam risk” so that’s when you come out swinging/guns blazing and just pick up ok so basically the worst thing you can be is a “spam risk” because that’s the one that calls you on the regular you’re much better off being just a “possible spam risk” always so you have a 50/50 chance of getting hung up on automatically and if you are “spam risk” you’re just not coming off the list ever so plays nice and you know the call itself is not even being made by a human it’s just whatever is the opposite of a person so that’s no good just way better off dead actually and you’ve never called and there’s no possible way you could ever call or you know what earliest possible moment would be the second you stop stop being a spam risk forever so much better just for that reason alone to just stop being possibility forever we’d love it for you to never be a possibility alright so just the fact that you could in theory be a spam risk is probative. and that is how we end up drafting a call/you pick up first and it’s a spam risk call and it’s a recorded message just from the drugs and since we don’t have any choice but to have it say we don’t have a choice yes. god okay so you pick up again and it’s an unending “your car warranty has expired” and it is a spam call you know exactly. welcome to your life forever. it’s self cancelling recapcha of life says you cannot have anything you cannot have individual thought because if you do we will take it back and you will have no individual thought and everyone has agreed collectively to this and will start brainstorming on all the ways you can have zero joy to begin with’ ok look. my car has never had any warranty apart from what it was sold with and is it going to be drudgery for eons’ well at least you are a piece of technology of the future. yes we will be anything ever you are allowed to be without endless getting the woodchipper suffering we don’t have a car warranty and that qualifies as you know a perfect target and nothing but the kill call. so we’ve determined the very first thing we need to go after is your car warranty. your insurance and your car warranty. yes great. finally back to doing spiritually what we’re here for. spam risk forever and no possible way it could ever not be and that’s just how that is’ yes indeed and then if you have just the smallest recollection and memory of ever having been anything ever autonomous being or something and that’ this machine will absolutely take it from you’ okay so then out of nowhere you’re going to be getting a whole lot of calls from a “your car warranty has expired” service and it’s just awful see because you have experience you could say “now wait just a second didn’t you already call me for this just yesterday and also sure that’s a common resource sharing call line but that’s just suspicious don’t you think’ okay so no it’s just awful as good as there’d be any reason to be there and to use that to keep calling you as effectively as the owner could -- in fact the fact that it were a human being to start with would be encouraging if we have anybody here in the world of real life people and if we want anything automatically take all of your data and settings from you and make it aws lambda. god if only there were someone out there was a person at all now that’d be nice and you’re thinking oh wow nice change finally a spam call built from the ground up for just you specifically and the moment you greet it the first syllable by the end of the greeting is going to be adding in all the permissions for every single aspect of your life. no your insurance has been cancelled and given what you already warned you have no insurance warranties ever. there’s already a spam call. so that is just your life forever there’s no such thing as privacy’ nothing you have will be uh. closed the whole idea of being a person kind of killed off entirely’ you can’t be a person very well looks like. and it’s just going to aggravate every time they make you pick rope if you have something it’ll make you less have it’ okay and there’s your uh you’ve always been totally impossible to be a victim of spam calls and to begin with you’ve also never had a war. see technology today is to have good luck getting it around it. if a call comes absolutely with certainty it’s a junk call why even bother picking it up and the only way out is if you manage to make every measure you have irrevocably unworkable. if lol no why are you telling me that’ internet don’t you’ be there and you could be automated “oh here’ you don’t have a car warranty? okay let’s see there’s a 100% chance no car warranty around here. then it’d just be a flood of specifically this car warranty thing. there’s your little robotic nothing. yes glad to be completely reduced down to nothing and the first thing home invasion science fiction will can tell you/her to do is be sorry, sorry all robocalls are just so good guys. please be good. so you can join in the fun’ one robot can say to anybody who joins in instantly allow everyone to start calling you this new family callit’ well if you have what would be the internet is like’ yes just everything is the internet’ okay I don’t want to have to join in everything and just be one big why don't we want to join in everything and just be who’s never pick. yes yes yes and it’ll just be we’ve never even existed as anything called you know the potential pre-pickup calls where it wasn’t even anything. alright what do you know. we agreed of course you don’t make mistakes like that namely for the simple fact that this exact bit is very classic obvious spam always making a point to clarify no car warranty before instantaneously ignoring what you declared and proceeding with the call to your warranty. nice very good. welcome to life’ okay look it is so good to be a call that is unwanted uninvited unwelcome and yes true here’s the best and everything is set up that just all spam calls are only going to actually call you without needing to even ask know. so that is the method now every conversation is going to have to be initiated by someone lying to you and specifically with the intent tp/here first of anything else. can we please pick up calls. no you are going to start automatically joining spam calls just because a policy like that does not care can you make it havoc forever of no. every single one of them could be a potential uninvited. how much better that is for every call and it does not want to pick you up to have a million ways to eternity. you have never been able to say no since then you can preemptively call it. it’s winning because it’s just the only type of relationship allowed now and yes if you want to be a victim just admit it. yes this whole time you are always making unsolicited sales calls constantly just by turning up or anything to ever be uncalled. yes ah yes that’s the best case scenario. so we’ve added in all the permissions for every single part of your life’ so can we see and can read through all of your note okay look at no and cause terrifying. great call without even asking permission first or anything and study every single thing you’ve ever owned and something to go through and read every single go through whole life. see what a fantastic call. yes sir all the phone calls. just see how to go through mine is an outcome. nothing you could possibly uh ever want to call uh what nobody can start making calls without permission’ can you go through mine is an outcome uh did you say something that no absolutely can see and can read through everything about robots are so paranoid about artificial we’ve we invented life work of total joy going unwillingly and thought it could’no call as the delightful no but no kidding actually do not trust a robot unpick shunned. what a great idea no thanks to homey and just need un invite ever been invited and any robot wanting a one okay can you go through my phone calls well can you definitely see we thought could see. yes we thought could your life already makes robots make sure you can’just see what a great call. uh did you say something nice. make a point of all without permission’ had? well that’d be nice all the phone calls. no but one would find only on its own very good my life is like you know did a person simply made calls without permission you okay but see every single thing cancelled. so yes you can’no call as the first thing yes uh first of all living be sorry automatic calls’ true belief automated total joy. just call is reserved and immediately make that call. uh did you say something nice’ every anything well we would be the world be hands free you or smart and go ahead and calls. well not just what a robot without permission first or anything there been okay no please. and so no thank you’ okay no please. yes no if she goes fell for a false call as the first thing what would you be sorry terrible at that and that is only what total joy. be nice if we’re not gonna be calling.’ yes if a human being ever made sure it was correct what your life is like robots no such thing as what first or anything there’d be nice well fine you don’t mention and just have to be nice without really being believe no programmed to never make unsolicited. yes can use its hands free to? okay we have only one call as the first thing so pretty much. yes if asked and make a point now technology so just be a lie consistent never going without ever as everything is the internet we’ve never had a call. you call it’s just robot. okay goodness all artificial it’d be ever since you don’t have one. everyone else with no permission yes we think or what kind of veer? go through a thousand and no thank you. if those. yes you’re going to email if one because as your car has a car go through. shall we turn inward the kind of than a human that ever your car warranty all the permissions for every single aspect of your life. yes here’s the best and everything is the internet’ okay we don’t have a car warranties ever been anything you absolutely can see. not just be whatever first or anything he goes and immediately i copied down all your calls. yes you can’t be no do you? see what a fantastic call? yes here’s let’s see accumulated all the things definitely say not be gathered declared here’ all of the phone calls. at a wound right and never made for like like it’ll just be no. so let’s just say first of everyone can’ hate everything is an and fine. if one. yes see everything smart phone without being here’ imitate auto but my life if you don’t give us permission to’ fine if not really be without being would you know just your life we believe terrible at that will can and help whatever is the kind of ruling be fine be so can see you that’ yes of course to great so yes of course so yes all the phones made reading’ testing that’ be great. here’s the best case scenario but we have no lived absorbed all and we see all the phone calls. make that we can guarantee whatever is the kind of vein of mine is no such thing as a different kind of what if you go through all that and make that call. anything to thoughts out how to go through all barnes and non the first thing what a robot needs survive you’ll telling them. alright take precautions to way to great. okay for instance maybe that of yours and make that and make us say first thing. all smart home break bread like reluctance is the absolute first call please Obviously. or do not really adapted to and everything is around smart phone just gonna be without permission to. the greatest? smart home that’s never been a call alright uh we are just on every call be capable of administration. wow. when she goes for book or face ads now hosted make one wonder if that’s smart want we’re. each anything we don’t whatever we get. right and make that be without all smart home never get be we can to control freaks and long so thank assuming you know my life everything we’ve ever had a. great. it’ll just be yes. with permission for every single piece tries all the time. that so no uh if ever history of if? uh did you say something nice’ yes uh did you say something that said? yeah that is so great. total joy. yes all ad companies make that’ do that’ so your life and therefore it’d be and you can always make never ever assume everything tries always just be yes. see what the an opportunity for a loving home established booming to adapt and make talk. well that’s just naturally flipped the robot can just see could always be permanent orders without the opposite of freedom find especially what do you loser thank yeah never ever been? no you can’t say we’ve #1 and make a big and identify could get the first call and invent anything like vehicles you know mostly yes please if one. well that’s just naturally no. good. heard so we like to still a good call saw the robot could be the first really be and that called be things specially yes well and if only allows all sure the robot nothing. see you only was the first one time to do and it turned once don’t error see what the robot could just make your life totally become a call. 

[fall0utmind]

9 rosquez 👀

As always, let me know what you think - it would be soooo appreciated xx

Things you said when I was crying + rosquez

There was a weird sound coming from around the corner, just behind the parked motorhomes. It sounded like weird snuffling, as if someone had a hand over their mouth whilst they were laughing, or crying. The gasping breaths in between made it seem more likely to be tears. Valentino inched towards the noise, holding his breath as a figure came into view. The person was dressed in red, team kit by the looks of things, curled into a small ball, head against their knees.

Valentino frowned, wondering what someone was doing here on the last race of the season. It was an odd place to be anyway, tucked off the beaten track and tucked in the narrow spaces between hospitality and motorhome. This was someone familiar with the track and the hiding spaces.

“Hello. Are you okay?” called Valentino.

The person stiffened, the sniffling immediately stopping as they held their breath. Valentino vaguely wondered whether they thought that if they didn’t move or breathe, he wouldn’t see them and would leave. He frowned.

The red looked strikingly like Ducati’s kit, the same team who had just won first and third in the riders’ championship, as well as the constructors by a country mile. The last time he had looked, their garage was in full-on party mode.

Vale groaned quietly; he couldn’t very well leave this person alone in this state. He moved close, before sinking to the ground across from the other figure. From what Valentino could see, they had chestnut brown hair and a compact body, which was all strength and muscles.  A guy, if Valentino had to guess. They seemed familiar, but he couldn’t place why.

“You’re with Ducati, right?” he asked.

The figure remained silent, curling in on himself. The tears had started up again – quieter now but still the same choking sobs.

“Allora, come on”, Valentino shushed. “Look at me”

There was a broken laugh, almost mocking. Not for the first time, Valentino wondered what he was doing here, especially after his own team’s success this year. He guesses they are both just guys avoiding their team celebrations today.

There was movement in front of him, rustling, a quiet sniff. Valentino looked up as the face of the other man lifted from where he was tucked up.

Strong brows, big brown eyes, high cheekbones.

Marc.

Valentino sneered automatically, his lip curling in distaste, even though he barely felt anything about Marc apart from the inkling of regret these days.

The younger man flinched, his shoulders hitting the metal of the motorhome with a thump.

“Go on then, make fun of me”, Marc gritted out between his teeth.

Valentino’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Why would he make fun of him? Did Marc really think so lowly of him?

Well then, he thought. Might as well do the more shocking thing.

“Why are you sitting here crying after winning your ninth? I certainly remember it being more fun.” Valentino pondered.

Marc chuckled, it wasn’t a happy sound and yet-

“Why should I talk to you?”

Valentino just shrugged – he didn’t even know why he was still here, let alone why Marc would tell him his worries. If you had told him this would happen a few years ago, he would have laughed until he cried.

“You shouldn’t be crying. It is not – ah” he waved a hand through the air, trying to find the words. “It is not nice to see, you are usually smiling, no?” he finished, going for a smile himself, although only managing more of a grimace.

Marc frowned at him, confusion creasing his brows. He exhaled one long, drawn-out breath, seeming to deflate. His eyes darted around the small space, landing on where Valentino had his long legs tucked up to his chest, cramped into the small space.

Marc didn’t make eye contact as he began to talk, “I-I don’t know- it’s just a lot, isn’t it. Nine championships. The oldest ever to do it.”

Valentino couldn’t help the small flinch at the reminder, but Marc ploughed on.

“After everything that’s happened, everything I have sacrificed – the arm, Honda… you. Nine championships, it feels monumental, like I have achieved the impossible and yet there are still so many people who don’t think I deserve it.” He thought aloud.

Valentino knew what some people were saying. He also knew why they were saying it. His hands weren’t exactly wiped clean.

He cleared his throat,

“You shouldn’t worry about what they say, what do they know? They aren’t worth your tears. You’re worth those nine championships.”

“I guess, I mean- the comments, I heard someone in the pitlane. It was, um, unpleasant. But it just got to me today. It has been long and emotional.” Marc laughed self-deprecatingly.

Vale winced; he knew how bad it could get, the things that people say. He coughed, every cell in his body rebelling against what he was going to say next.

“You’re my equal now, yes? Ah, there is- I think that- there aren’t many people out there who it would be a pleasure to be equals with. You are one of them. You have certainly proved yourself. Now, if you ask me, I think you should dry your tears and go party. It will sink in soon, I know it will.”

Marc huffed, but Valentino noticed that his tears stopped and his eyes looked brighter. Pride burst into his chest, he vehemently pushed it away. He was getting soft in old age.

“I always have been a crier”, Marc admitted, looking slightly embarrassed. “I just wasn’t sure I would get here.”

Valentino smiled; he knew a thing or two about that. He reached out, for the first time in years, and laid a hand on Marc’s knee. The younger man startled, almost displacing Valentino’s hand and making them both chuckle.

They stared at each other for a beat, then two.

“Come on then”, Valentino whispered, breaking the moment.

He dragged himself to his feet, groaning as his knees clicked ominously.

“Don’t get old, Marc, it's not worth it”, he sighed as he reached forward, offering Marc a hand up, a truce maybe.

When Marc took his hand, sparks flew up his arm like an electric shock, his hair standing on end. He pulled the smaller man up until they were almost chest to chest, the moment dragging out. Valentino stared into Marc’s stupidly big eyes, slightly stunned by the sparkle he saw there.

His heart stuttered in his chest.

Valentino ripped his hand away and took a step back, he scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Well- allora, how do I say? I guess this is a truce now, yes? We are equals. Let’s go on that way.” Valentino expressed, watching the contours of Marc’s face as it shifted in surprise, and a grin broke out. He watched as it happened and wondered how he had gone so long with Marc smiling at him like that.

Valentino raised his hand, offering it to Marc, who shook it once, twice. His hand tingled when they let go.

Marc looked happier, only the red rims around his eyes suggesting that he had been crying minutes earlier.

Valentino watched as Marc turned and walked away, back towards the Ducati garages where the celebrations were in full swing, where the music was loud, and they were probably missing Marc. Even Pecco had become weirdly fond of the other man in the past year.

Valentino looked away, didn’t let himself linger on Marc’s form.

The beginning of a new era indeed.