#bc she was there through the first time of all this

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Serenity

Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x f!doctor!reader

Summary: Robby has had a really shitty day, maybe he just needs his girlfriend to comfort him

Follows the pacing of the show so minor spoilers if you’re still not caught up

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, oral (fem receiving), he talks her through it (yes he does and yall can’t tell me otherwise), age gap (reader is 35 and Robby is 50) (ik he’s probably Noah’s age but just bare with me here), established relationship, just vanilla sex really

WC: 6.3k no I’m not sorry

A/N: bahahah nobody look at meeeee. I think I outdid myself with this, I’m never beating the daddy issues allegations. This man just makes me so feral I couldn’t help myself. I’m hoping some of yall have been down bad too otherwise just ignore me (if this flops I’ll cry). Also tagging my bestie bc she has experienced my madness in real time🩷 @wittyjasontodd

You knew today would be an absolutely abhorrent day. You could feel it, the second that dumb clock hit six a.m, you knew. You knew it when you texted him if he wanted to eat dinner at your place after your shift, and he told you that he didn’t know when exactly he would get off his. He was working today and that made you sick to your stomach, a deep sense of anxiety and worry settling in. And you couldn’t shake that feeling all fucking day. 

You didn’t want to worry about him, coddle him and suffocate him like he was a teenager, he surpassed you by quite a few years for you to be doing that. Still, you couldn’t not worry about him down there. His day was normally absolutely draining as it was, but having to deal with that today out of all days, it concerned you just how well he could compartmentalize his own issues and the issues of dozens and dozens of other people. 

You were tempted to come downstairs yourself and check in on him under the excuse of bringing him coffee and something to eat. But then that would be weird. Then people would know. Well, you had a suspicion people did know by now, it was a bit hard to hide a relationship after two years. Though it was a bit easier considering you were all the way up in the pediatrics ICU and not in the Pitt. Still, you definitely noticed the knowing glances of Perla and Princess whenever you came down for a consultation or if they saw you sneak into the doctor’s lounge.

Dana knew, though you never told her. You didn’t think Robby told her either. You thought it took her maybe a month to figure it out. You prided yourself on how discrete you were about it, and still are. You walk together whenever your shifts align, hands locked and headphones in as you both enjoyed the short time you had in each other's calming presence before you didn’t see each other for twelve-plus hours. And then you went your separate ways, a quick kiss and a hushed ‘love you’ before going through completely different entrances to be extra cautious. You have been doing this since day-one. How Dana figured it out was beyond your extensive knowledge. 

You both would like to think other than Dana’s superhuman ability to read people, you had managed to keep things private. It was better that way, doctors were such odd creatures, you almost positively knew that ‘favoritism’ would end up circulating around sooner or later, since, once upon a time where you were a bright-eyed and still a had will to live first-year resident, Robby was your attending. Albeit he was married at the time and you were engaged, you knew someone would find a way to turn it into something it wasn’t. 

Today, however, you weren’t quite such how reserved you could be when you knew he was struggling. 

You sat on your desk, a long exhale of exhaustion leaving your lips as you ran your hands over your face, enjoying the few minutes of peace and quiet you had managed to find. And then you heard a ping. You sat up, eyes shooting open as you reached for your phone with annoyance. You thought it was the hospital, but when you unlocked your phone you saw it was a message from Dana.

Well, fuck. 

Dana: can you check on Robby? The overdose kid is hitting him pretty hard 

A long sigh left your lips as you read over the message, heaviness settling in your chest. You had been keeping up with it since earlier this morning, you had hoped maybe the kid would respond to treatment. You guessed things hadn’t been so easy down there. 

Me: you don’t think the kid is gonna make it?

Dana: Robby doesn’t think so. Come check on him please. He was gone for a while earlier

Another heavy sigh left your lips. Today was not the day for this. 

Me: he doesn’t like it when I make him talk about his feelings 

You weren’t entirely exaggerating. Robby wasn’t emotionally unavailable, the opposite, if anything, he was painfully aware of his feelings. He just didn’t like talking about them, especially when they were ER related. He would send you into a psych ward if he told you everything he experienced on a daily basis, he told you. And you respected it, your year in the Pitt definitely wasn’t the highlight of your life, and you admired him for choosing to stay there for so long. 

Dana: you’re not. You’re just being a supportive girlfriend. Come, now. 

You didn’t have to be in front of her to know she was being serious. You figured if you didn’t come down at some point she would physically come get you herself if that’s what it took. So best not to test the universe today. You had some time before your next appointment anyway. And Dana was right, you wanted him to know you were there, even if he didn’t always want it. 

It came as a shock to no one that you ultimately found your way downstairs. It was always loud on your floor, but nowhere near as bad as the pitt. You tried your best to not draw attention to yourself, though with everything going on down here and all the people that came and went, you figured you would blend in for the most part. You hoped to find Dana at her desk, preferably alone, as to avoid awkward small talk and questionable looks since nobody actually called you down here for any medical reasons. You internally thanked the universe when you spotted Dana on her computer. 

“Hey.” You spoke quietly, hands shoved into your pockets a bit sheepishly as you glanced around before looking back at her. She gave you a warm smile of gratitude and nodded at you. 

“Don’t make that face, it’s not that bad down here.” She teased, calling out your hypervigilant mannerisms and the uncomfortable look on your face. You didn’t mind being here, but only when you had a reason to be, you definitely didn’t want to have to explain you came down here to check in on your boyfriend. 

“I know.. But you know..” you gave her a look. But you didn’t have to say anything, she knew what you meant, she just liked teasing you about it. 

“South 16 is empty. I’ll tell him I need him for something. Just be quick, we might need the room.” She told you in a hush, resuming her typing away at her computer. You quietly nodded, briefly reaching to lightly squeeze her shoulder as a silent thank you. 

You waited a bit anxiously, shooting a glance at your watch. Shit, you had to be back upstairs in ten minutes to check up on a patient. But you didn't want to leave without at least making sure he was okay. Even if he was just going to brush you off and tell you that everything was fine, you at least wanted to see him. You waited another minute, and with a sigh you turned to pull the curtains out, but someone beat you to it. You jumped back a bit, eyes wide for a second before you realized. 

He wasn't quite looking at you, or maybe he just wasn't paying that much attention, he thought he was in the wrong room at first.

“Sorry—oh.” Robby glanced behind him for a second, bit confused as he closed the curtain behind him. You smiled lightly as he looked at you both with confusion and relief to see you. Now matter how hectic or chaotic his day had been, how many times he had to chase down his residents, or many patients were a pain in his ass, seeing you always brought him a sense of calmness. He was ashamed to admit he was completely infatuated with you. His racing mind ultimately landed back on you, and he realized; he didn't remember calling you down. Maybe one of the residents did? But they didn't check with him first. “Hey, what uh.. What are you doing down here?”

“Just wanted to check in, I heard you’ve had a rough day.” You said quietly, lightly nibbling on your bottom lip as you stepped closer to him. He looked down at you, a heavy sigh leaving his lips and his jaw clicked lightly as he reminded himself to curse Dana out later. He didn’t want you to worry. He said nothing, so you continued, “The college kid, you don’t think he's gonna make it?”

He tried to hold back another sigh, but he couldn't help it, he squeezed his eyes shut and scratched the back of his head with exasperation. He considered not going into details, giving you the same bullshit answer he gave the parents. He never wanted to burden you with his issues, with the baggage that came with the ER. He always wanted to keep out of the relationship, though he found that to be quite the challenge. When he opened his eyes again and found your pretty eyes looking back at him, with that warmth and kindness that made him want you in the first place. Maybe he should open up, to you at least.

“Uh, no. He’s braindead so there’s nothing we can do.” The words left him like a ton of bricks, heavy and sharp. Your face immediately fell and your lips parted open lightly. You tilted your head at him, but said nothing. He wasn’t quite looking at you as he continued, “I keep ordering all these tests for the parents, but I know. And I don’t know if giving them false hope will make things worse for them.”

You nodded softly and rested your hands on his chest, you felt him exhale unevenly. You gave him a warm smile as you lightly rubbed his chest.

“Maybe they just need more time to make peace with it. Maybe they just need to know you did everything you could to help their son.” You knew how he felt, there had been so many times where nothing you did was enough to help someone’s child, and you had to tell them that. But you knew he did his best, he always did. Though you weren't sure if he knew that. 

“Yeah.. yeah, maybe.” You felt him slightly tense under your touch and he avoided your eyes. He slightly angled his head to look behind him, like he was getting ready to sneak his way away from you and get lost in the chaos of the ER. you would let him, in a minute.

“Michael.” Your voice was a warning, quiet, stern. He snapped his head in your direction and looked at you with concern and confusion. You almost mever called him that. Only sometimes, when you were annoyed with him. With that scolding tone of yours. He didn't like it much.

“I don't like that. Why’d you do that?” He tilted his head at you, and you had to hold back a smile at the way he looked at you.

“‘Cause, you’re being difficult. There’s bad days and there’s worse days. Today is a shitty day, and that’s fine. You're doing your best, don’t be so harsh on yourself.” You sighed, running your fingers through his beard and he almost instantly leaned into your touch.

“How come you didn't go into psychiatry?” He commented and you snorted, leaning your forehead into his chest. You felt a slight chuckle rumble in his chest, and with that your deed was done for now.

“Well, I did a minor in psychology in undergrad, did I ever tell you that?” You leaned back, a small smile on your lips, and he had the little wrinkles around his eyes that you found to be so cute. 

“Once or twice.”

You shrugged playfully, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek, but he turned his head and caught your lips instead. You were definitely okay with that. A groan of annoyance rumbled in your chest when you felt your phone buzz, alerting you that it was time for your next appointment. You pulled back, much to your dismay and took a glance at your phone, you were definitely going to be late.

“I mean it Robby, I’ll know.” You shot him a playful warning look and he nodded, a tiny grin pulling at the corner of his lips. You leaned up, actually leaving a kiss to his cheek this time. “Love you.”

“Love you too hun.” He called after you as you disappeared behind the curtain. A long sigh left his lips as he ran a hand over his face. If he wasn't the attending he would go after you and would purposely get locked inside an exam room with you for a little while. But alas. He waited a minute, making sure it didn’t look too suspicious before he came out too, back to the madness he went.

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

Today was just the gift that kept on giving. You eventually came down for the walk of honor. You knew you wouldn’t really talk to Robby, but you wanted him to know you were there. You truly hated to see him like this. Hours on end only for the answer to have been what he knew from the beginning. It was hard to look at the brightside. And then you heard Dana got assaulted and you were absolutely freaking out. You hadn’t been able to come down until the end of your shift, when you were on your way to head home. Robby still had another hour left of his so you were just going to your apartment alone, he almost never got off on time, anyway.

You damn near ran off the elevator and a sense of relief washed over you when you saw Dana sitting at her desk. A long sigh left your lips as you approached her and you nearly gasped when you saw the bruising on her face. 

“Dana.” You said quietly, your eyes big. She shook her head at you dismissively, but it was hard not to worry. “They told me a patient hit you?”

“Yeah. Don't worry, I don't have any fractures, just a little sore.” She half smiled at you, but the look on your face never changed, you frowned even deeper.

“It's unbelievable. With all the patient satisfaction bullshit Gloria shoves down our throats you’d think they would invest a little more in making sure the staff is protected. Are you sure you’re okay? It bruised a lot.” You leaned down to inspect her closer and she rolled her eyes at you, but you couldn’t help it. 

“Yes I’m sure, Robby made me get a CT and made me take a break, I’m fine.” She waved you off and you nodded. 

“Oh, speaking of that pain in my ass, where is he? I’ve been texting him since the walk but I haven’t heard from him.” You frowned softly, adjusting your bag over your shoulder. Dana gave you a look, one that you definitely did not like.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t wait on him too much. Just go home, okay? While you still can.” Now that worried you even more. You knew today had been rough but you didn’t think it had been that bad. It took a lot for Robby to lose it, though you were unsure what exactly happened if that was the case. 

“Yeah, okay. I’m glad you’re okay. I was very worried.” You offered her a tiny smile, which she returned and you exchanged goodbyes for the night.

Dana’s words lingered in your mind, and you were definitely more concerned for Robby than you were earlier today. Usually he would text you back, even if it was an hour or two later, but it had been hours and nothing. With a sigh, you started to head for the exit, and as you walked you saw Robby walking out of one of the exam rooms. You debated whether to pretend you didn't see him and to just go home. But that really wasn't the type of person you were.

“Robby, hey.” You called out to him as quietly as you could as you walked up to him. He visibly tensed at the sight of you and he looked like a fucking mess. You narrowed your eyes, your lips pursing at him but you continued. “I uh.. I’m going home. I don’t know if.. If you wanted to come over when, well whenever you get out. I’m picking up food on the way so..”

He was silent for a while, too long for your liking and you were starting to feel a little tense as well. He clicked his tongue, scratching the back of his head like you had picked up he did when he was stressed. You probably should have listened to Dana.

“Yeah, uh, I don’t know. I don’t really know what time I’m getting off, and truly I think maybe I should go to my place tonight.” He said with exasperation, his tone harsh and laced with tension. It almost took you aback how he was talking to you. 

You blinked at him, mouth slightly agape. It took you a couple seconds to process what he was saying. You counted to five in your head, took a deep breath in and just nodded. “Uhm, okay. Yeah, cool, I just wanted to make sure you were okay before I went home.”

“Yes, yes I’m okay, why does everyone keep fucking asking me that.” He raised his voice before quickly realizing what he did and his lips fell in a flat line. You stared at him in shock, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. It was almost like it dawned on him that you were the last person in this hospital he should be snapping at. And he did just that. He reached to grab your arm and you backed up.

“No, it’s fine. I got it. Sorry. I’m gonna go home now.” You forced a smile, you could tell Robby wanted to say something, he opened his mouth but you just shook your head at him. “It’s fine, you need space and I get that. Text me when you can talk to me like a fucking adult, yeah?”

You didn’t even give him a chance to reply, you were turning around and hurrying to the exit before he could get a word in. Was that the most mature response you could have given him? No, not really, but you didn't particularly enjoy being yelled at by your boyfriend in the middle of the ER. You knew something else must’ve happened to him, but you didn’t really want to find out when he was that upset. You hadn't seen Robby angry often, stressed? Sure, all the time. But he looked pissed and you didn’t like that whatsoever. He was always so calm, so patient and so collected, it was unsettling to see him so easily ticked off. You tried not to think about it too much, he knew where to find you if he wanted to talk, calmly. 

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

Robby couldn’t stop thinking about you for the rest of the night. He felt horrible for yelling at you, when his problems were not your fault and all you wanted to do was be the loving girlfriend that you were. He always loved how attentive and caring you were, when you asked him about his day and when you would listen so attentively to the little he would tell you. You were the last person on this earth he should’ve snapped at today, and now he had to go home feeling guilty when all he wanted was your comfort. He debated about just going to his place and calling you tomorrow, maybe he would get you some flowers to apologize. But then thought that would be too long. It was so late, he definitely didn’t get off when he was supposed to, but maybe you’d still be awake. You usually waited up for him anyway. 

Without much thought, he ended up at your apartment. He had a key to your place, he slept there most nights to be completely honest. He was rehearsing in his head the apology he would give you when the door got stuck. 

“What the fuck..” he muttered to himself as he tried to force the door open, thinking maybe it got caught on the rug or something. But no, he looked down to find that the latch was on. You put the latch on. He took a deep breath and clicked his tongue, trying to look into the apartment to see if he could see inside. This was definitely going to be his last straw. 

You weren’t asleep, it wasn’t quite midnight yet, but even if it was, you weren’t sure if you could get much sleep tonight. You heard the sound of your front door unlocking along with muffled shuffling. You sat up, confused. You suspiciously came out of your bedroom, only to find Robby’s awkwardly tall frame trying to reach inside to undo the latch. You almost wanted to laugh, you would have, if you hadn’t still been a bit upset from earlier. 

“Really?” You called out to him, arms crossed over your chest as you padded along the wooden floors, the floorboards creaking under your bare feet. Robby looked to find you, in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of cozy pants. He always found it endearing how cozy and comfortable you looked outside of the hospital. 

“You put the latch on? Really?” He huffed quietly, annoyed that he got stuck outside your apartment, he definitely was not amused by you trying not to laugh. You shrugged.

“You said you weren’t coming over. I put the latch on when you’re not here.” You said like it was obvious, taking your sweet time in walking to the door. It served him right. He would’ve rolled his eyes if he didn’t know you were right. 

You stood for a few seconds and made direct eye contact with him as you shut the door in his face, just to make a point, before you unlatched the door and opened it. You took a step back, crossing your arms over your chest again as he quietly stepped into your apartment, closing the door behind him. He dropped his backpack like it had offended him, and he crowded your space. His nose brushed over yours, and you could hear his breath. You were holding yours.

“I’m sorry.” He offered so quietly, so much so that you wouldn’t have heard him if he hadn't been so close. You inhaled sharply, slightly nodding. You threw your arms over his shoulders and he breathed out a sigh of relief. “Yeah? You forgive me?” 

You nodded again, as you leaned up to meet his lips. “Yes, now shut up.” 

“Yes ma’am.” He chuckled softly, his large hand squeezed your waist as he leaned down to meet your eager mouth. He definitely said nothing after that. God, he had been wanting to do this all fucking day. It probably would have made his day a whole lot less shitty. But he was here now, and he had you all to himself.

You weren't sure when you ended up being carried to your bedroom, or when your back was laid flat on your soft covers. All you could focus on was his lips claiming yours, his lips trailing kisses all over your jaw, down to your neck, and anywhere he could find, really. He wasn't normally this messy, perhaps the stresses of today had finally worn on him.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he muttered against your skin as he half-assed shrugged his hoodie off his shoulders and tossed it somewhere he would be scrambling for in the morning. You hummed along, only half listening. “Let me make it up to you.”

Confused, you sat up on your elbows as he settled between your thighs. You watched him with big eyes and a heavy chest as he silently pulled your pj’s down your thighs. You held your breath as you instinctively closed your legs. He shot you a pointed look as he pried your thighs open, fingers digging into your plush thighs as he settled between them. You gasped softly at the delicious burn his beard left on your thighs. You loved that you could always feel the tingle of where his mouth had been, even the day after.

He took his time with you, he always did. You never understood how he could stay so calm, so patient. You had no patience, and you knew that he knew. Maybe he enjoyed seeing you desperate. His tongue lapped at your pussy with such calculated movements. From your hole to your clit, circling and sucking before diving back into your walls. Squirming, you were chasing his mouth with your hips, body overcome with pleasure as he worked your walls with his tongue. You felt like such a whore for asking like this, but you couldn’t help it. 

“That feels so—ugh—feels so good—please.” You didn’t know what you were pleading for. Mercy? Sweet release? You didn’t know. Robby raised an amused eyebrow at you, wet lips curled up the slightest bit as he moved his tongue back to your clit and he slipped two fingers inside your cunt. He licked and sucked to match each delicious drag of his fingers. The sounds leaving him were just as filthy as the things he was doing to you, groaning and grunting.

It was no surprise that he had you shaking and sobbing, overcome with pleasure, eyes blurry with tears of pleasure, your release rapidly approaching. You latched on to his hair, tugging and pulling at the strands as your pathetic sounds filled the room. You chased his mouth, and he let you, always so amused by how quickly you would fall apart.

“That’s it, just breathe through it.” he hushed, his own breath heavy as he replaced his tongue with his thumb and he crooked his fingers just the right way, knowing each and every one of your tells, each twitch of your body, he had memorized all of it. 

Your release was hard and sudden, your loud sounds were almost as overwhelming as the feeling of his fingers scissoring you wide open. Your head was thrown back, eyes rolled into the back of your head. He dug his fingers into your thigh, his tongue slipping into your hole when his fingers left you. 

“Shit Robby.” You gasped, your thighs shaking as you weakly reached to grab his face. You ran your fingers along his face, threading through his beard and you silently ushered him up. He complied, in an instant settling between your open legs to find your mouth again. You could taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue, it was all so much for your clouded mind.

“You’re okay, just breathe for me.” He said against your lips, brushing your hair away from your face softly. You breathed out a laugh.

“You should yell at me more often,” you snorted, and Robby shot you a pointed look. “So you can make it up to me.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not done, so.” He pressed another kiss to your lips, leaving the lingering taste of yourself on your tongue before he flipped you over on your stomach. You bit your lip softly, pulling your t-shirt over your head and tossed it somewhere. You heard him shuffling behind you for a bit. You turned your head to look back at him, and with a smile he leaned over your back, leaving a kiss to your bare shoulder. “Hi sweetheart.”

“Hmm hi.” you hummed softly as you braced yourself with your arms in front of you. He pressed his lips to the back of your head, inhaling your sweet scent as he slowly sank into you. 

You gasped, your eyes rolling back into your head he sank into you until his hips rutted against your ass. The side of your face was flat on the mattress when he sneaked his hand into your hair and held you there. His pace was slow at first, slow strokes that allowed you to revel in the feeling of his cock in and out of your walls. But as you both began to grow desperate, pathetic sounds leaving your lips and groans of pleasure leaving him, his pace picked up.

“Thought about this all day baby. With the fucking day I’ve had.” His words left him with a groan, and he gave you a particularly sharp thrust that had you sliding up the mattress. “Just wanted this. You're the only thing that isn’t wrong in my life.” 

His raspy words in your ear made you moan, and you blindly reached behind you to touch him, any part of him. He leaned down, his chest flat against your back and his lips found yours, pulling you into a messy kiss. 

“Mhm, should’ve called me down for a quickie then.” You teased him and he chuckled, his cheek pressed against your jaw, the new angle making him sit so deep you could feel him in your fucking guts. God, you didn’t fucking care that he was so much older than you, the way he fucked you, so passionately and so gently at the same time, you didnt care for anyone younger. 

“I don't care for quickies.” he replied with an edge to his voice, despite the sass of your mouth, he could feel the way you squeezed the life out of him everytime he hit that perfect spot, getting you closer and closer to your release.

“You’re such an old man.” you managed to reply, but your witty remarks quickly left you when he slipped his free hand to find your swollen clit, which made you painfully aware of how close you were. But Robby could tell.

“Uh-huh, and this old man is gonna make you come,” There was a bit of amusement in his voice at the way your body twitched under him and the way your face twisted with pleasure. You were so close. “Yeah, thought so.” 

“Fuck, I’m gonna come.” you choked out, followed by a silent sob when he hit that one spot and you saw white. You were gasping for air as your whole body shuddered. Robby shushed you softly, slowly fucking you through your orgasm. He left wet kisses along your jaw as he whispered sweet words in your ear.

“Atta girl, you did so good.” He hummed as he left a kiss to the side of your head as you dropped your face flat on your blankets, your breath heavy as your body twitched in aftershock. You gasped softly when he slipped out of you, leaving you empty. You wanted to whine, but he gently grabbed your arm and flipped you on your back, and he settled between your legs with ease.

“Alright, lemme look at you. Just want to see how pretty you look.” He ran his fingers over your face, brushing your hair away from your forehead. It was always such a intoxicating feeling to have him on top of you, his pretty brown eyes watching your every move, his chain a reminder that you were about to get fucked (again). You fucking loved this feeling. You couldn’t even make a sound when he slid into you again, your eyes simply fluttering shut and your body twitching with pleasure.

“O-oh my god—!” The way you sounded so utterly fucked out, cock-drunk, it made him feel lightheaded as he fucked into you. He felt a little bad, with how exhausted you both always were, you never fucked this long, or so intensely. So he knew you were going to be so sore for your morning shift tomorrow. But fuck, with the way you squeezed your eyes shut, lips parted, he didn’t want to stop until you were both spent with exhaustion because you just felt so fucking tight and so goddamn heavenly.

“Mhmm I know, I know hun. Feels good hm?” He panted above you, his chain dangling above your face like a mockery of your current position with each thrust he gave you. You nodded harshly, a string of uh-uh-uh’s leaving your pathetic mouth as your nails dragged down his back.

“Feels so good baby.” You squeezed your eyes shut, his voice shooting straight to your pulsing walls, making you whimper.

He gritted his teeth as he felt your walls squeeze the life out of him, a grunt leaving his chest as he reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. You squeezed his hand so tight as he pinned your hand above your head, and he planted his other arm beside your head, attempting to ground himself. 

“There you go sweetheart. That’s it.” His raspy voice grounded you as you spasmed around his cock for a second time. Your sounds were so pathetic, the way you sobbed his name was enough to make him completely lose the very little self-control he was holding on to. He fucked you through your orgasm, gave you two, three more sharp thrusts before he fell into his own release, a breathy fuck falling from his lips

Sounds of exhaustion filled the room, drowning out the still on TV you had in the background, your show being completely forgotten the second Robby was at your door. A thin layer of sweat covered his skin as he ran a hand through his hair. Your eyes were screwed shut, your forearm thrown over your face as your racing heart matched your shuddering breath. He sneaked under your arm and left a kiss to the side of your forehead. You giggled a bit and opened your eyes to find his soft brown eyes staring back, there was a smile there, too.

“You want pizza? I bought some earlier from the place you like.” You spoke eventually, your chest now rising and falling in a steady rhythm as you rested your head on Robby’s arm. He turned his head to look at you and smiled in that way that made the corners of his eyes wrinkle a bit. 

“Yeah, okay. I’ll take some.” 

Much to the protest of your legs, you threw yourself on your feet, ignoring the way Robby was chuckling at your struggle. You managed to find a t-shirt, you didn’t know whose it was, probably Robby’s but it was yours now. After making a stop to the bathroom, you were in the kitchen for a bit. Getting fucked made you hungry, so you heated up some pizza for yourself. 

“Here’s your delivery, and I do require a tip.” You announced as you came back into your bedroom. Robby looked up from his phone, and he had managed to find his black framed glasses that you loved to tease him about. And a playful smirk formed on your lips. “I definitely want a tip.”

He looked at you confused for a few seconds then he realized and he blew out a laugh, shaking his head with disappointment. “You know, after a certain age one just gets really tired, can’t keep up with people your age. Not that I would know about that.” 

You snorted as you flopped down on your bed, handing him his pizza and a can of coke because that was all you had in your fridge. “It’s okay, you’re my favorite old man.”

You leaned up to kiss his cheek, bumping his glasses with your nose. He gave you a look out of the corner of his eye that was anything but amused. Which made you laugh even more as you took a bite out of your pizza. 

“I hope I’m your only old man.” He chuckled, squinting his eyes the slightest bit as he typed a text on his phone. God he wished he could turn this fucking thing off. He couldn't even be out of the hospital for an hour before he got bombarded with messages. He caught the way you shot him a glare and he gave you a quick ‘sorry’ before he set his phone down. 

“I dunno, the chief of peds is quite the catch.” You couldn’t help but snort at the look he gave you, and you just shot him a smile. “Jokes. Totally joking babe.” 

You ate in silence for a while, you kew you had to be up again at six in the fucking morning, but you just wanted to enjoy having him all to yourself for just a little longer. There was still a lingering thought in your mind, you’ve had it all night. It never left your mind. Robby was watching whatever you decided to play on the TV when you turned to look at him.

“Robby,” you said softly, he hummed as he turned his head to look at you. “Do you want to talk about today? It's okay if you don’t… I just think you should talk to someone, and I want to listen.” 

You saw the hesitation in his warm eyes, the tension and dread from such a shitty day coming back to him. His lips fell in a flat line, and his jaw locked the slightest bit. You offered him a soft smile as you sat closer to him, leaning your head on his shoulder with a soft shake of your head.

“Not tonight, okay? We can talk about it tomorrow.” He sighed out, leaning to leave a kiss to the side of your head. And you nodded with a reassuring smile. 

You didn’t know how he was prior to the pandemic, maybe he was worse, or maybe he had gotten better since. But you didn’t mind putting in a little work to break down his walls and help him open. You would do anything, and you were okay with waiting.

[thefeverburningalive]

࣪𖤐.ᐟ 𝖳𝖾𝗇 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖨 𝖧𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖠𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖸𝗈𝗎.

billie eilish x fem!reader

chapter three | ch2 | ch1

summary: due to the recent new rule given to your sister by your father, some meddling parties decide the easiest way to get you to date is by paying somebody to take you out. who better to do so then the hot mysterious delinquent

link💙

a/n: i’m so sorry this took so long to come out </3. i had a super crazy past couple of weeks plus some writers block sprinkled in there. there will most likely be only one or maybe two more parts of this so i hope you guys enjoyy.. also! i put a little star (*) where a specific scene starts, in order for the scene to make sense please watch the link above or at least listen to the song above (bc it was the best thing ive ever written and i want it to make sense so bad) tysm!!

genre: slow burn, tooth rotting fluff, angst, probably a curse word or two

warnings: slight cursing, idiots being idiots

word count: 4.2k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

“y/n, m’lady, you sway to the rhythm of my heart.” kissy sounds and off beat comments where all you could hear the second you entered the classroom, reminders of the fool you had made of yourself at that party. english had always been your favorite subject but you where dreading all classes today. how could you be such an idiot? you couldn’t give any of those jerks the satisfaction of your acknowledgement. you sat down and began to take your materials out. just ignore and pretend like you always do. “y/n stratford you where on fire! wonder where you learned to dance like that babe.” joey’s voice makes anger bubble deep inside your gut. you kept cool on the outside, not even glancing up, keeping your eyes fixated what’s in-front of you as joey joins his friends. right as the bell rang, billie came in. she quickly looked for your eyes which where still preoccupied. she timidly walks over and slinks into the seat behind you. you knew it was her. you weren’t sure if you recognized the sound of her necklaces rattling together or her musky perfume first, but both where indicators of her presence. billie knew she fucked up. the entire situation was fucked up. she couldn’t help but ask herself if the money she was getting was worth breaking something that’s already fragile. billie wants to know you, to be real with you. your cold shoulder was enough for her to make up her mind. she’s calling it off with joey. you listened intensely as mrs. blaise explained the upcoming assignment. something about writing poems- or something like that. before you knew it the bell was ringing, and you waisted no time in scooping up your stuff and rushing off. you didn’t even hear billie say your name as you left.

you always spent lunch with your friend juliana, being that she was one of your, if not your only, close friends. “you went to a party? i thought we where officially apposed to social activity.” she linked her arm through yours, connecting you guys while the two of you walked through the campus. “i didn’t have a choice jules.” this was the last topic you wanted to discuss, not only where you embarrassed over getting fucked up and making a fool of yourself, but also embarrassed by getting turned down by billie. “didn’t have a choice? where’s my y/n and what have you done with her?” you knew she was just poking friendly fun but you really where in no joking mood. “i did it for bianca and it backfired. i got drunk. i danced. i fell. i puked. i got rejected. it was big fun.” juliana didn’t push after your short angered rant. she could tell it was something that was still raw for you. she really wanted to ask about the being rejected part, you having failed to mention to her you where even remotely intrigued by anyone. as you two walk you see and make eye contact with billie. she nervously smiles and gives a small wave. you huff and roll your eyes before immediately turning to walk on a different path. juliana made eye contact with billie. without knowing or hearing anything, juliana knew all she needed to know before continuing to follow you. you decided to have some ‘you time’ after school. the vintage book store was always a comforting place for you. you could spend hours trailing up and down the rustic istles. “exuse me? do you know where i could find a copy of the feminine mystique? i seemed to have lost my copy.” it seemed as if billie came out of no where, suddenly standing directly in-front of you. you stop dead in your tracks and cross your arms. “what are you doing here?” she smiles and shrugs her shoulders at you. “heard this is a pretty cool joint.” you let out a sarcastic laugh before turning to a near by shelf, picking up a book, and shoving it into billie’s chest before exiting. when billie looked down, there was now a copy of the feminine mystique in her hand.

the next day flew by fairly quickly, and quietly. you where on the soccer field going about practice as usual. the coach announced a fifteen minute break since the marching band was also on the field, practicing for the next football game. you chatted with some of your teammates, discussing tactics for the next game and complaining about whatever else.* “you’re just too good to be true,, can’t take my eyes off of you,,” suddenly a beautiful voice could be heard over the loud system of the game field. “you’d be like heaven to touch,, i wanna hold you so much,,” billie was suddenly seen coming out of the announcer booth, microphone in hand, lips moving perfectly in sync with the singing. she was singing. “at long last, love has arrived,, and i thank god i’m alive,,” she then finally finds your eyes on the field, holding the most intense eye contact with you. “you’re just too good to be true,, can’t take my eyes off of you.” as she finished the phrase she points a finger at you. before you could even continue to process what was going on, the entire school band starts playing music- the music to go along with billie’s singing. your mouth hangs agape, an unavoidable smile spreading onto your face. everyone else on the field was in total shock, people laughing, teasing, gossiping. but you couldn’t even be bothered to care. all you could focus on was billie. she sang and danced through the bleachers, along with running away from campus security. all you could do was watch and laugh and smile, not even believing what was happening. as the song came to a close billie eventually had to stop dodging security and go with them to the principals office- probably to get in trouble for hijacking the sound system. you whistled and cheered for her though, as did everyone else. you definitely couldn’t let her sit through detention after that. the loud whistle the coach was using snapped you out of your thoughts. unfortunately, you couldn’t help her until after practice. luckily, it wrapped up about twenty minutes later. after lazily throwing sweat pants over your soccer shorts and slipping on some low top sneakers, you made your way to the detention room. all you had to do was distract the teacher long enough to let billie escape. as you entered the room, billie eyes where the first thing you looked for. your eyes met instantly, she gave you a ‘what are you doing?’ look as you gave her a ‘don’t worry about it’ look back. “mr. elicks! just the guy i was looking for!” okay so maybe you weren’t an actor, but you could be convincing enough for the sake of the task at hand. you created small talk with the older male teacher, once he turned his back you looked over at billie- mouthing the words ‘escape while you can’. billie had a huge grin on her face as you continued to chat away with the teacher. slowly but surely, billie made it out of the classroom undetected. once she was out, you quickly said goodbye and dashed out of there. the both of you laughed and giggled while running down the halls, booking it for the parking lot. you lead her to your car before unlocking the doors allowing you both to sit. “dude i can’t thank you enough for helping me sneak out of detention. very cool of you.” she was still panting a bit, but you where too, having just run down four hauls and several flights of stairs. you laugh through the pants before responding. “yeah no problem.” you put the keys in the ignition and begin to drive, existing the parking lot. “i thought i was gonna be a goner trying to sneak out of there. so how did you do it? keep him so distracted?” due to you driving, you couldn’t exactly look over at her. but you could tell she was still smiling. “oh you know..i dazzled him with my wits.” she chuckles as you pull into a gas station parking lot. “so what now.” you turn to billie, now being able to actually talk. “are you up for it?” billie has this mischievous look on her face. “up for what?”

that’s how the two of you ended up covered in paint, laughing your asses off, playing paint-ball. “eilish watch out!!” you two start laughing as she got hit with a paint ball. you take a few step closer to her but you’re suddenly hit with a paintball straight to your back, sending you stumbling forward. before you know it you’re falling onto the ground- right on top of billie. “well how cliche.” billie placed one of her hands on the small of your back, while the other came up to brush some of your paint covered hair from out of your face. “shut up and kiss me already.” “with pleasure.” billie then finally brings her face to yours, and places her hips atop of yours. her lips where softer than clouds, seemingly melting into yours. the kiss was soft and gentle. she tasted like cherry chapstick and spearmint gum. when the kiss was done, you felt yourself missing it. after the kiss, you both just looked at each other for a moment. neither of you being able to find the right words to say now. billie was the first one to speak. “maybe we should uh- head out.” you nodded and scrambled to get up and off of her, offering your hand to help her stand. the walk back to the car was silent. it wasn’t awkward, but there was still a slight feeling of tension. as you got to the car you handed her a towel from in your trunk. she raised an eyebrow at you. “bianca always has me pick her and her friends up from the beach. i hate sand, especially in my car. so ive just gotten into the habit of keeping towels in the trunk.” she nods and listens as you both wipe as much paint as possible from off yourselves before entering the car. “do you wanna go to my place?” the question catches you off guard. you’d never been to billie’s house before, hell you dont even know where she lives. she continued to speak. “we’re both covered in paint, and exhausted. also- i’m pretty sure your dad will go all ‘sargent dad’ on you if you go home looking like a kindergarteners finger painting project.” she had a point, your dad would ask way too many questions, and you hated the feel of the paint drying in your hair. “yeah why not. but i have no idea where you live.” she smiles as she puts her seat belt on. “i gotcha mamas, i’ll give you directions.” and she does just that. it was about fifteen minutes of her giving you directions before you finally made it back to her house.

it was different then you pictured in your head. she leads you inside after unlocking the door. you’re suddenly met with a large pitbull, jumping up excitedly onto billie. “shaaark hi buddy, hey big guy, who’s a good boy!” you watch as billie crouched down to give love to the dog while she talked to him in a cute baby voice. it was a side of billie you’d never seen before, and it made you smile. the dog suddenly comes over to you and sniffs you, before sitting in front of you seemingly waiting for you to pet him. you smile and pat his head. “nice to meet you shark! aww you’re so cutee.” now you’re crouching down to pet the dog as he rolls over for you to rub his belly. “oh yeah he’s a looker.” she watches closely while you interact with her dog, something about it makes her stomach do backflips. “he’s literally the cutest thing i’ve ever seen.” you turn to look at her while still petting the dog. “not as cute as you.” she shoots you a wink and you roll your eyes, your cheeks blushing slightly. “here come i’ll show you where the bathroom is, i’ll grab you a towel and some clothes to throw on.” she guides you up a flight of stairs and to a bathroom, seemingly to be her own. “i’ll be right back with the supplies.” she turns and leaves while you study the bathroom. it has one tooth brush, so this must be her own bathroom. you see some skincare products lined up on the sink, along with some vanilla body lotion. a knock at the door is heard before billie slips in. “clothes and towel as promised. there’s shampoo, conditioner and body wash inside the shower on the shelf. once you’re done you can come to my room that’s where i’ll be. it’s the first door on the left when you walk out.” you nod taking the pile from her hands, while she closes the door behind her. you quickly shower, ridding yourself of the paint. billie gave you a black nike hoodie with some red basket ball shorts. the outfit was a little big on you, but it was almost comforting. the clothes smelt like her arms where wrapped around you.

you made your way to her room, the sound of low music to be heard from the door that was cracked open. when you stepped inside you’re met with a whole different billie than you’re used to. billie is seated at a desk- she’s wearing a darker red hoodie was some sort of band logo on it, along with some checkered pajama shorts. her hair was wet but thrown up in a messy bun, and she seemed to be applying some skin care products to her face. she seemed so much more real. she noticed your presence and smiled. “c’mon in, i don’t bite.” she grins as she speaks while motioning for you to sit on the edge of the bed next to her chair. without a second beat you indulge. “do you live here alone?” you couldn’t stop yourself from being nosey. it was strange there was no one else here. “nah i live with my parents and older brother. my parents travel a lot for business and my brothers almost always at his girlfriends house- if not then working.” you head nodded as she spoke, your eyes locked with her blue ones. “its not too bad tho. i usually just kinda hang here with shark. sometimes zoe will come by.” as hard as you tried to pay attention to her words, her presence was overtaking your mind. your mind couldn’t help but question how you ended up here. “what about you? have anything you like to do while home alone?” it was clear billie was continuing to try and get to know you, which you appreciated. “well i’m also usually home alone a lot. bianca’s always god knows where. my dad works in a hospital so he’s off saving lives. jules is usually busy- she works and studies a lot, and she’s pretty much the only person i hang out with. i kinda just read or listen to music or practice the guitar.” speaking with billie felt so natural to you as you’ve grown accustomed to her being around. “nice nice. i’m more of a piano person myself.” billie smirked as she spoke. “speaking of music- i didn’t know you could sing??” you’d almost forgotten about the public performance from earlier today; even though it was only a few hours since it felt like days. you could see a small blush creep onto her cheeks as she just smiled and rubbed the back of her neck. “i- yeah.. it’s not something i talk about a ton.” you could tell the topic made her slightly nervous. it was cute. you start to think back on the reason for her show earlier, and it makes you slightly frown. billie must have noticed the shift in your mood because she immediately perks up. “hey, what’s wrong?” the concern could be heard in billie’s voice. “why didn’t you kiss me in the car?” the question you’d been dying to ask finally spilling out, you stood as you continued to speak. “you flirt with me. you call me pet names. you- you take me to a party- take care of me- open up to me- but then you don’t kiss me-? and then today you do this big gesture and you hang out with me and kiss me and bring me to your home- i just.. do you not want to be with me or what because i-i can’t just play games with you billie.” you let out a sigh after speaking, having just ranted and spilled out everything you’d been thinking.

billie just looks at you. you couldn’t tell what she was thinking- her eyes being so unreadable. she sighed as she stood up from her chair so she was standing directly infront of you. without saying any words she just brought her arms around your waist and pulled you in for a hug. not knowing what to do- you put your arms around her shoulders. billie buried her face in the crook of your neck and sighed. “i’m sorry.” was all billie said, her voice low as she was so close to you. you could feel her breath on your neck and it sent shivers down your spine. the two of you stayed like that for a moment, not knowing when to break apart- not wanting to break apart. billie pulled away and cupped a hand on your cheek. “i was scared- you where kinda drunk and i don’t know i thought that you’d either regret it or forget it if we kissed that night. but i-i do- i do want to be with you.” billie’s eyes slightly glossed over, a mix of emotions clouding her brain. none of this was actually supposed to happen. she wasn’t supposed to fall for you, she wasn’t supposed to get so involved, but she couldn’t help it. her stomach was sick with guilt, she wanted to be real with you. she wanted to be with you because of her feelings, not because of joey. you smiled and pulled her into another hug. “i forgive you.” you spoke just above a whisper. “i know i can be a lot.. i’m very closed off but it’s just because- i’ve just been hurt a lot. it’s hard for me to trust people.” your confession sent another wave a guilt through billie. billie knew she had to be sure that this ‘deal’ with joey was buried dead and gone. she also knew she had to make sure you’d never find out. when you finally let go, billie could see more of the pink hue that dusted your cheeks. for the first time, you felt nervous under her gaze. billie gave you the softest smile, the same pink hue now covering her own cheeks. she slightly stepped closer, if that was even possible. “can i kiss you again?” her voice was low, quiet, like her words where only meant for your ears. all you could do was nod, not trusting your voice to be stable enough to answer. she placed her hand behind your ear while her thumb rested on your cheek before leaning in, and kissing you once more. this kiss felt different then the first one. the first one was soft, a spur of the moment kiss. this kiss felt more real. it was passionate, like she was confessing her feelings through her movements. she pulled you closer by your waist as you put your hands on her chest, slightly grabbing at her hoodie as if to pull her even closer. by the time you’d both finally pulled away, you where on the brink of gasping for air, the kiss having lasted a life time. she rested her forehead atop of yours, her eyes staring deep into yours. “go to prom with me.” it wasn’t even a question she was asking you, more of a demand. “prom-? why would you even want to go?” you didn’t take billie as the school event type of girl. “i want to be with you. i want to do things with you. please go to prom with me.” the desperation in her voice made the butterflies in your stomach start to flutter. “i don’t know billie..” you wanted to protest the idea but then you just saw her staring at you with her big blue eyes. how could you say no? a sigh escaped you lips before you finally answered. “okay- i’ll go to prom with you.” billie immediately picks you up by the waist and spins you around. you laugh with wide eyes while gripping onto her shoulders. “i promise you won’t regret this y/n.” she holds your face in her hands as she speaks. you blush once more, the strong brick walls you had built around your feelings slowly came crumbling down.

it had been hours since you’d arrived at billie’s house, her having suggested to you guys watching some tv on her living room couch turned into an hour and a half long nap. when you woke up, you where clung to billie’s torso. her arm was draped around your shoulders while the other one was playing with your hair. you groaned, having been so comfortably sleeping. “hey sleepy head.” billie spoke very softly, sounding like she’d possibly also been sleeping. “how long was i asleep for?” you sat up slightly, still staying close to billie. “like an hour and a half-ish. i woke up like twenty minutes ago.” you nodded and sighed as she spoke, knowing you’d most likely have to go home soon. before either of you could say anything else, the sound of the front door opening and shark barking filled the room. billie looked over and noticed the two that had just walked in and smiled. “hey fin, hey claudia. finally gracing me with your presence?” you assumed this must be her older brother and his girlfriend, who billie had briefly mentioned earlier. she then got up from the couch and headed in their direction. a part of you wanted to pull her back and keep her next to you but you knew the moment couldn’t last forever. you knew you should also get up and say hi so you did. as you approached you got to actually see the couple that just arrived. you took notice of her brothers ginger hair, wondering if maybe billie’s jet black hair wasn’t her natural color. the girlfriend was tall, and very beautiful. even in a sweat suit she still looked like a super model. the girl seemed to notice your presence before the other two. “hi there.” billie and her brothers heads turned at the sound of her voice. “oh right- y/n this is my brother finneas, and his girlfriend, claudia.” claudia gave you a warm smile and wave while finneas extended his hand for you to shake, which you reciprocated. “hi nice to meet you guys. i’m y/n.” you felt slightly nervous interacting with the two despite their kindness. the conversation flowed with ease, both finneas and claudia being incredibly nice and friendly. the four of you sat on their living room couch, discussing various topics like music, tv shows, movies, food, and sports. after about a half hour you had decided it was probably a good idea for you to head home being that you had been out the entire day and it was almost 6pm. billie was leaning up against your side, so you lightly tapped her knee. her head perked up and she looked over at you. “i should probably head home.” she frowned but understood. “cmere i’ll walk you out.” you turned to finneas and claudia after standing up. “it was so great meeting you guys.” the couple also stood and each came in to give you a hug. “you’re welcome any time.” finneas said as he hugged you goodbye. “i hope we see more of you!” claudia stated as she gave you her hug. finneas then turned to billie before you two exited. “you better treat her right kid. she’s a keeper.” you could feel heat rush to your cheeks, and you saw billie’s do the same. billie and you walked out without a word, walking to your car in silence. “i uh- loved spending the day with you.” billie opened your car door for you as she spoke. you giggled slightly before leaning in and kissing her cheek. “me too, see you tomorrow?” billie blushed once more before nodding with a smile. you started your car with a sigh and waved to billie before driving off.

billie watched your car drive away, before going inside and picking up the phone. she waited a moment, letting it ring, before beginning to speak once the line picked up. “the deals off joey.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

tag list <3: @emilyshortcake

[ziggystardustmybeloved]

Unpopular opinion maybe but they did NOT destroy Hopper's character in season 3

He lost his daughter and after some years and tragedies that could lead to a complete disaster he found people he deeply cares about

1. He believes he's a curse. He says that in season 4. Everyone he loves he hurts. Pushing away people he cares about seems to be pretty in line with this belief he holds.

2. He lost his daughter. Now, he has El. He's scared his going to lose her bc she literally risks her life every time Hawkins in in danger. And don't forget that the government was looking for her. She wasn't going to school or anything. She was in the cabin all the time - protected by him bc as I said - he already lost a daughter before and El is in a constant danger. Now, El has a boyfriend with whom she spends most of her time. It's normal for a father to question his daughter's partner (to some extent). And he hear from Hopper that all Mike and El do is kissing and that it is constant. I know he's a bot of an unreliable narrator but... Mike and El are 13 at that time. It does not seem healthy. If I were him I would certainly be concerned. Also, we as an audience know Mike, but Hopper doesn't have have enough interactions with him to trust him completely.

3. He tried to ask Joyce out. She didn't show up. He's ego was crashed. And he's the chief of the police. He has a role to fullfill in a society. After losing his daughter he was drinking, taking pills and sleeping with random women. As if he was trying to prove himself. After everything that happened in Hawkins he started to be suspicious of things that other people might find... questionable to look into. He couldn't act as a "perfect chief of police" anymore. So he had to overperform in a different way. He lost his family. He realised that the world he has known for all of his life is... different. He stopped being an authority figure (do you remember when he had to arrest the protesters despite believing that they should be allowed to prostest? He had to conform not to lose his position. He didn't choose to be brave. He chose an option that would save his image and probably job even though it wasn't the right thing to do). And then - after all of that - he realised that the woman he's in love in and who understands and with whom he probably felt like he doesn't have to perform bc she doesn't and she'a not ashamed of it (she was sure that Will talked to her through lights)... doesn't want him. He failed most of the standards set for men in the 80s society. So he had to perform like he didn't.

4. About Joyce again. First of all, IMAGINE YOU INVITE SB FOR "NOT A DATE" AND THEY DON'T SHOW UP WITHOUT SAYING ANYTHING AND IT TURNS OUT THEY WERE HANGING OUT WITH SOMEONE ELSE. Secondly, if he can't be with her than he has to push her away to somehow get rid of those feelings. Again - he performs his manhood (bc of toxic masculinity standards IN THE 80S) and being in love with a woman who he can't have wouldn't help him in that. And as I said at the begining - everyone he loves he hurts. Maybe if he can't keep her close enough to protect her, he should keep enough distance not to hurt her.

Hopper also went through a lot and just because he's not a teenager it doesn't mean he doesn't have feelings and that societal pressures don't affect him. I'd argue that since he somehow was able to fullfill society's expectations at the begining and than he just couldn't anymore he's even more prone to this toxic overcompensation.

I hope that what I wrote makes sense and is understandable (english is not my first language). I just can't stand it when people argue that they "get the chacaters" and than hate on Hopper

[joaosnovia]

HELLLO TIS I

okay so no.1 the theme ate SO HARD??? im drooling and i am on my KNEES

anyhow here to req a joao fic !!

so like what if reader is a ballerina or figure skater and she obvs comes home with like cuts and bruises from training and comps and stuff and basically joao makes thee BIGGEST fuss over it

like it can be treated with time but no. that man will bring a whole medic bag to treat the TINIEST cut and will overreact to every single injury she has !

this is so shitty but i requested this to someone else *uhm uhm evelina uhm uhm* and she has NOT written it yet so i'm frolicking here

you can ignore this if you want bc the idea is shit but yeah idk i js wanted to req something

BYEYEYYE HAVE A GOOD DAY / NIGHT AND ILYYYYY <33

MWAHHHH

❦ - delicate.

summary:: well there isn’t much to summarise bro 💔.

warnings:: none?

writers notes:: first and foremost i love this req and im tryna make my fics longer but idk how to drag it on yk? but i think if somewhat figured it out! ALSO EVE I MANAGED TO DO IT BEFORE YOU 👅👅👅👅👅👅👅.

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp @universefcb

joão swore he almost had a heart attack the first time he saw them.

the tiny, angry red cuts littering your feet and ankles, some fading into soft pink scars, others fresh from your last competition. you had always told him ballet was tough, that it wasn’t just twirling around in pretty dresses, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

you were sitting on the couch, legs stretched over his lap, casually scrolling through your phone like nothing was wrong. meanwhile, he was staring at your feet like they had personally offended him.

‘what the hell is this?’ he blurted out, his fingers hovering over one particularly deep cut near your ankle.

you glanced at him, unfazed. ‘what’s what?’

‘this,’ he practically whined, gesturing wildly at your feet. ‘why do you look like you’ve been fighting for your life?’

you snorted. ‘joão, relax. they’re just cuts from my pointe shoes. they’ll heal.’

‘heal?’ he repeated, horrified. ‘how long have they been like this?’

you shrugged. ‘i don’t know. it happens all the time.’

his jaw dropped. ‘all the time?’

you sighed, putting your phone down. ‘it’s normal, babe. every ballerina deals with it. my feet just need time to recover between competitions.’

joão wasn’t hearing any of it.

‘this isn’t normal. this is self-destruction. why didn’t you tell me?’

‘because i knew you’d react like this.’

he scoffed. ‘of course i’m reacting like this! you’re literally injured and acting like it’s nothing.’

you groaned, throwing your head back against the couch. ‘joão, they’re fine. it’s not like i broke something. they’ll be healed in a few days.’

but he was already shaking his head, carefully lifting your foot to examine it closer.

‘you should’ve told me,’ he muttered, brows furrowed in concern.

‘what would you have done?’ you teased. ‘wrap me in bubble wrap?’

he didn’t answer, which told you exactly what you needed to know.

you laughed, cupping his cheek. ‘you’re ridiculous, you know that?’

‘you’re the ridiculous one,’ he shot back, still frowning at your feet. ‘how can you just ignore pain like this?’

‘because i have to. it comes with the sport.’

he sighed, rubbing a hand down his face.

‘so what, you just suffer in silence?’

you bit your lip. ‘i wouldn’t call it suffering. it’s just part of the process. like how you play with bruises or minor sprains sometimes.’

joão blinked, then scowled. ‘not the same thing.’

‘it’s literally the same thing.’

he huffed, still clearly displeased.

‘okay, but do you at least take care of them? like, properly?’

you hesitated for half a second, and that was all the answer he needed.

‘you don’t, do you?’ he accused.

‘joão—’

‘unbelievable.’

before you could stop him, he was already up, marching toward the bathroom.

you sighed, knowing exactly what was coming.

he returned moments later with a first-aid kit, a determined look on his face.

‘babe, really?’ you groaned.

‘yes, really. you clearly need someone to take care of you since you won’t do it yourself.’

you rolled your eyes but let him take your foot in his hands. he was surprisingly gentle, his fingers light as he dabbed at the cuts with antiseptic wipes.

he paused when you flinched, looking up at you with wide eyes.

‘does it hurt?’

‘not really.’

his glare told you he didn’t believe you, but he didn’t argue. instead, he carefully applied ointment to each cut, blowing softly on your skin like it would somehow make the sting go away.

you watched him work, your chest tightening.

‘you really don’t have to do this,’ you whispered.

he glanced up, his gaze softening. ‘i want to.’

you smiled, threading your fingers through his hair.

‘you’re a little dramatic, you know that?’

he snorted. ‘yeah? well, you’re a little reckless, so i guess we balance each other out.’

you laughed, letting him finish bandaging your feet.

when he was done, he pressed a kiss to each foot before meeting your gaze.

‘no more competitions for a while, right?’

‘not for a few weeks.’

‘good. because i’m making sure you actually rest this time.’

‘yes, doctor félix,’ you teased.

he smirked. ‘damn right.’

he pulled you into his lap, arms wrapping around you like he needed to keep you safe from the world.

you sighed, relaxing into him.

maybe having someone fuss over you wasn’t so bad after all.

but joão wasn’t done.

for the next two days, he treated you like you were made of glass. he wouldn’t let you walk barefoot around the apartment, claiming the floors were ‘too rough.’ he brought you socks, ice packs, pillows, anything he thought might help, even though you insisted you were fine.

‘joão, i can literally walk perfectly. i danced on these feet last week,’ you reminded him.

he scoffed, tossing you another pillow. ‘yeah, and look where that got you.’

‘oh my god.’

he followed you around, ready to catch you at the slightest sign of discomfort. if you so much as winced, he was at your side in seconds.

‘are you okay?’

‘joão, i stubbed my toe.’

‘that’s how it starts!’

you groaned, shoving his face away.

but as much as he annoyed you, you knew it came from love.

late at night, when you were curled up in bed, he would trace the scars on your ankles with gentle fingers, his touch barely there.

‘you work so hard,’ he murmured against your skin.

‘so do you.’

‘yeah, but i don’t bleed for it.’

you turned in his arms, brushing your lips over his.

‘this is what i love, joão, and i know you hate seeing me hurt, but it’s part of what makes me strong.’

he exhaled, pulling you even closer. ‘i just wish i could take the pain for you.’

you smiled, tucking your head under his chin.

‘you already do, in your own way.’

he kissed the top of your head, whispering, ‘always.’

and for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like you had to carry the weight alone.

[infinitelibrary]

So I read this last night hoping for a nice little shot of bedtime reading. What I got was a chapter - yes, a SINGLE CHAPTER - that carried me through a whirlwind of emotions. Everything from awe 😮 to spice 🥵 to angst and heartache 😢 to absolute LOVE (*gasp* the L word!!!)❤️ and happy tears 🥹. And again, I repeat: all this in a SINGLE CHAPTER. I think that speaks volumes to your skills as a writer, so let's make that very clear. I read this no less than 3 times last night itself. And then at least twice more this morning, just so I could take notes and digest and be coherent when I came here to reblog and give you my thoughts. (as you can tell, that was pointless bc I'm still rambling.)

Also fair warning - this is LONG, and I don't feel like putting it under a cut but just know there are spoilers galore. Consider yourself warned.

First off...In the Soop Yoongi at the beginning. oh you can bet your ASS I noticed him! I will always notice him! 😍

THANK YOU!! I know it's such a small detail but I am so grateful to you for indulging me and including him in there, down to the loose collared tee and the necklace (all the better to pull him in close for a kiss or two 😉)

The chapter progressed through the makeover montage. Something many of us can only dream of! Makeup, glitz, glam, outfits at our fingertips, getting dolled up and made pretty even if just for a night. A perfect Cinderella moment. And I'm theorizing based on the characterizations you've offered us so far...but I think as magical as it was, I think that was part of what led MC to have those doubts later on. She was dolled up and dressed up and it perhaps as much as it made her feel gorgeous, she also knew this wasn't who she really was...and so that 'imposter' feeling was perhaps brewing under the surface. Not saying it was or has to be...but just what I gleam from it in hindsight.

The car. The CAR. Dear GOD don't even get me started. Do you know how hard it was for me to get through my workday today? Thankfully today was a wfh day and most of my calls were camera off, but the one that was camera on? The whole time - the WHOLE time - the line "Grind. Make me hard before I fuck you right here right now" was running through my head and I had to constantly jolt myself back to reality. When I tell you I am here for slightly jealous possessive Yoongi who feels like he has to remind you who your ass belongs to...I mean I am abso-fucking-lutely HERE 👏FOR 👏IT👏. I swear I read that line last night and my brain glitched. I had to go back and re-read it like 5 times. That entire scene was SO FREAKING HOT. And then ordering her to 'keep it in'?? JFC...🥵

The party took us on another journey - this one with insecurities and angst. I felt my heart clench with Yijeong's "Still?" comment bc I *know* that feeling. You can feel stuck when others around you are moving up and away, meanwhile you're still in the same job. And it can be frustrating bc change is scary, there's security and comfort with staying with what's familiar. For some, it maybe that they love what they do and don't want to move, though I don't think this is the case with MC, as she mentioned she wished she could, but hadn't been able to. Perhaps she does want to move, but there's something holding her back. Or maybe she just hasn't had the opportunity. There could be any number of reasons. But to have someone unintentionally talk down to her for being in the same role especially at a gathering like this when everyone around her is recognized for their extraordinary achievements...of course it would make her feel insecure and inadequate. Yeah, in her everyday office she's just one among many. But here, she's the "everyday"normal" person in a crowd of celebs and again, it's easy for her to think "Yoongi could have his pick of any of these gorgeous women...why me?" And then add Mina to the mix and I just...sigh

The car ride home, the drop off at her apartment. When she turned him down, my heart was literally aching as she went in alone...then the late night (early morning) text. Him showing up at her doorstep with his confession. The simplicity of it, the urgency of it. I literally cried the first time I read it (happy tears for the both of them). Her reaction, and then reciprocation of his words of affection. Oh my GOD it was better than anything I could have imagined.

The way that you took us through each and every one of these stages was truly a work of art. I feel like I keep saying this about every new installment of your work that comes out, but this may just be one of my favorite chapters of any of your works, EVER. Just...WOW. Everything about it was just....

(I know that's not a chef's kiss but it's the closest I could find to a Yoongi chef's kiss gif bc yes he is 'cooking' in this clip)

I'm excited to see what comes next!! They've made it official outside the office. What's going to happen *in* the office? What shenanigans will that conniving Danbi get up to? How are they going to have illicit office quickies now that their hiding spot is no longer hidden from the camera's view? And what will happen when Wonwoo shows up?

(you can bet I am staying tuned to find out 💜)

Terms & Conditions | Chapter Seven

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: Managing Min Yoongi as one of your encoders during his alternative military service should’ve been simple. He is quiet, punctual—and can apparently type as fast as he can rap! Not to mention the fact that he is easy on the eyes and keeps wanting to help you. You’ve signed an iron-clad NDA, detailing the full terms and conditions of his temporary employment, so you’re supposed to keep things professional, but what happens if neither of you wants to?

✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Fluff, smut, co-workers to lovers, office romance, idol!au

✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: Purely speculative regarding Yoongi’s alternative military service and how this is really done in SK, some cursing, boss/employee relationship sorta but there's no power play involved, reader and Yoongi are within the same age range

✎ ˎˊ˗ Chapter Warnings: YOONGI IN THIS SUIT. Angst - themes of jealousy, insecurity, Mildly angry car sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), The L Word <3

✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 4.5k ✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting date: March 12, 2025

✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes: We’re back after a longish break! Thank you to @glossdebut for beta reading! Enjoy this chapter, my lovelies~ 💕

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

“Hi, baby! I’m back…?” Your voice trails off as you enter Yoongi’s apartment that afternoon and suddenly the living room has been transformed into what can only be described as the scene for the makeover montage in movies (or fanfics?). 

Clothing racks line one wall, laden with everything from elegant cocktail dresses to sleek jumpsuits. A makeup station with a massive lighted mirror has been set up near the window.

It’s chaos, but it’s also… kind of amazing.

“What the—” you mutter to yourself, stepping further into the room.

Yoongi appears from the kitchen, a cup of iced coffee in hand, looking unfazed by the commotion. He’s dressed casually in black joggers and a white t-shirt, collarbones peaking deliciously from the loose neckline. Around his neck, a brown necklace draws your eyes to the smooth column of his throat. What gave him the right?

Anyway, he spots you immediately, face softening.

“Hi,” he says, strolling over to you, stuffing one hand inside his pocket casually. Not him acting all awkward again in front of other people.

You try not to roll your eyes before dragging him towards the nearest room and closing the door behind you.

His face is blank, causing you to whisper-shout, “What is all that?” gesturing wildly at the door that’s shielding the activity outside.

He sips his coffee, completely unbothered. “Told you I’d take care of everything.”

“Yah! You didn’t have to go this far!” you exclaim, but there’s a giddy smile tugging at your lips as you slap his chest.

Yoongi captures your wrist and pulls you closer. “Let me spoil you when I want to, mm?” Soft lips meet your forehead.

You roll your eyes, though your cheeks flush at his words. “Fine.”

“Fine,” he smiles sweetly, pressing a quick kiss on your lips this time.

You pull him back in with a loop of your finger around his necklace.

“Hmm, jagi,” he hums against your mouth, a soft reprimand. “Later, okay? They’re here for you.”

Despite your initial skepticism, it’s hard not to get swept up in the excitement. The team from Bit & Boot is professional but warm, making small talk about your personal color analysis. You’re apparently a soft spring, or was it deep winter?

Someone lays out a few dresses, and your eyes immediately gravitate toward a beige cocktail dress with sleek lines and subtle embellishments along the neckline.

“You have a good eye,” one of the stylists says, removing the hanger. Maybe you did understand the color thingy they were talking about, because they looked pleased. Thank God, because you didn’t want to look like a chump.

Yoongi lingers nearby, keeping an eye on everything. When your makeup artist offers him a chair as if he doesn’t own the place, he smirks and says, “Nah, I’m just here to admire.”

You’re seated in front of the mirror as they work on you, foundation buffed onto your skin, hair teased and styled until it cascades in soft waves over your shoulders. Yoongi stays close, occasionally glancing at his phone but mostly watching you, a small, private smile playing on his lips.

When you finally step out in the dress, Yoongi’s reaction is everything you could have hoped for. 

“Wow,” he breathes, his voice low.

“Too much?” you ask, smoothing the dress nervously.

“Too much? No.” He steps closer, his hand finding your waist, pulling you just slightly toward him. “You’re perfect.”

His words send warmth blooming in your chest. 

The glam team packs up quickly, with small smiles that they try to hide. You bow as they go, leaving the two of you alone in the now-pristine living room.

As the door clicks shut behind them, Yoongi turns to you, his hands sliding down your hips as his lips brush your ear.

“Jagi, we don’t have to go,” he murmurs, voice deep and dangerous. “You’re so sexy. Let’s just stay here. I’ll just take care of you.”

You laugh softly, placing your hands on his chest. “Yoongi, we can’t skip your hyung’s party.”

“Hmm.” His lips curve into a smirk, and his fingers trace lazy patterns on your sides, giving it a light squeeze.

“Yoongi…”

“Just let me kiss your lips for a bit…”

“Uh-uh,” you shake your head. “Lip gloss.”

“Not those lips…”

“Yoongi!” You shout, scandalized at the suggestion. But you’d be lying if you didn’t feel the flutter of something low in your belly as he dips his head to your shoulder, chuckling to himself. He’s such a shithead.

“Fine. But know that all I’ll be thinking about tonight is how soon I can get you back here.” He bites your shoulder for good measure.

“Well, you’d better behave then. Don’t make me regret saying yes to this party.”

He steals the faintest kiss on your lips. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

He lied.

You’re just in the car and already he is not on his best behavior. 

Not when he almost tears your panties in half as he hooks it to the side and inserts his cock in your warmth without so much as a prep.

Backtracking—this was not supposed to happen. And yet somehow you also knew it would, if you’d be really honest.. See, you were just making light conversation as you entered his Palisade.

“So who’s coming to the party again?”

He unbuttons his blazer, leaning back on his seat. “Bunch of label people, my members. They know I’m bringing you.”

“What did you say?”

“Told them to not act like idiots. And that they better behave.”

You hum, amused at the hint of green in his irises. Maybe it can be greener… 

“And, uh, Yijeong will be there, too?” 

Silence. Except for the soft whirr of the partition rolling up.

“Get over here.”

“Mm?”

“You heard me,” he says, voice a touch darker. 

You shuffle to sit on his lap, the fabric of your dress gathering on your waist. His large warm hand strokes up your thigh towards the plush of your ass, roughly squeezing.

“Grind,” he instructs. “Make me hard before I fuck you right here right now.”

Before you can protest your body is already acting on instincts, rolling your hips as per his instructions. Your panties are getting more damp as you continue to rub yourself against the growing stiffness under his trousers.

You hear the sound of a metal buckle and a zip. He frees his cock (he is not wearing underwear–this fucker!) and before you can do anything else, he hooks your panties to the side.

A wave of bliss courses through you as he nestles his tip against your sticky folds, prodding your clit ever so slightly. 

“Can you take it?” 

“Yeah...” 

He smirks. “Okay then, take it.”

A moan rips from your throat when he slips inside and pistons up into you. Hard, fast, and furious. There’s no build-up, not enough forewarning. But you love the stretch—the painful, delicious sting as he forces himself to fit inside you like he has many times before.

“Say my name,” he grits.

“Baby…”

“Whose dick are you riding right now, huh?”

“Yours, Yoongi—mmph fuck.”

His grip tightens on your hips, the guitar-calloused pads of his fingers pressing into your skin as he fucks up into you deep. The wet, obscene sounds of your slick walls sucking him in fill the Palisade, drowned out only by your soft whimpers and the way Yoongi grunts against your shoulder.

“Fuck,” he breathes, lips dragging along the shell of your ear, against your piercing. “You always take me so well.”

You grasp the leather headrest, desperate for something to anchor you. But there’s no finding your balance when he’s feral—when his cock is hitting so goddamn deep it knocks the air from your lungs. Your head falls back, mouth parting with a moan as the pleasure crests higher. Every inch of skin on fire.

Yoongi doesn’t slow. If anything, the sight of you, the feel of you—fucked-out and soooo fuckin’ wet—only makes him wilder. His hands shift lower, gripping the meat of your ass, helping you bounce on his cock.

“You want me jealous, huh?” he growls. “Wan’ test me?”

“No, I—fuck—”

His teeth graze your jaw, a warning. “Liar.”

A particularly sharp thrust has you crying out, your nails clawing at his back. His chuckle is dark, pleased. “Don’t worry, jagi. I’ll fuck the thought of anyone else outta you.”

You’re close. You can feel it—the unbearable heat pooling in your belly, every nerve in your body coiling tight. Yoongi knows it too, the way your pussy starts fluttering around him.

“Shit, ‘m close…”

“Yeah, that’s it. I like it when you lose control…”

“Ahh. Please, Yoongi.”

“Lemme feel it, baby,” he coaxes, voice rough, strained. “Let me feel you cum for me.”

That’s all it takes. Your release crashes over you, sharp and white-hot, your body trembling as your orgasm rips through you. Yoongi groans, feeling you squeeze him tight tight tight, milking him for all he’s worth.

“Fuck, fuck—” His grip bruises as he slams into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt as he spills inside, filling you up with every last drop. 

For a moment, all you can hear is the ragged sound of your breaths, the faint hum of the engine beneath you, which you just now realize is already parked. 

Yoongi’s hands smooth over your thighs, as you both come down. Then, with a tired but no less shit-eating grin, he pulls out and pings your panties back into place, pressing his thumb at the seam, before he says: 

“Keep it in for me, jagi.”

You should be scandalized. You can feel his viscous load already dripping from you, but you clench. You hold it in as best as you can. Because you’ll agree to anything when he’s like this.

You shudder, pulse still racing as he presses a slow, open-mouthed kiss to your lips. It’s gentle—so at odds with what just happened.

“Yoongi,” you breathe, still floating.

He smirks, lazy and satisfied. “My pretty jagi.”

As you rest your forehead against his, still dazed, still blissed-out, he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear and murmurs, “Now, let’s go to this fucking party before I change my mind.”

The party is already buzzing when you arrive, and Yoongi’s hand finds the small of your back, grounding you as he guides you through the crowd. His friends are scattered across the room, a mix of banter and laughter filling the air. 

You’re honestly a little self-conscious after your little car tryst. Is your dress too wrinkled? Is your make-up a wreck? Do you smell like cum?

“Come on,” Yoongi murmurs, leaning in close enough for his breath to tickle your ear. “Let’s go say hi.”

Jimin is the first to turn to you with a playful grin, “So, you’re the one Yoongi-hyung’s been hiding from us, huh?” He raises an eyebrow, his expression equal parts curious and amused. 

Jungkook grins, leaning in for a casual hug. “Hello, Y/N.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, but a small, almost shy smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he introduces you to the rest of the members. Everybody seems friendly, acknowledging you for being Yoongi’s plus one. For the most part, it’s Jungkook who keeps close, chatting with you about Chae and how he’s bummed she couldn’t make it tonight. Cute.

At some point in the night, Yoongi gets whisked away into a circle of conversation on the far side of the room. You hang back, still close but giving him enough space to enjoy his time outside of—let’s be real—babysitting you.

You slip toward the bar, ordering a drink, needing something to do with your hands while you surreptitiously take everything in.

Is that Hwasa? Oh my God, that’s Irene of Red Velvet.

The weight of where you are settles all at once. You knew you’d be surrounded by idols tonight, but knowing and experiencing are two very different things. These are people who command stages, who are revered and respected and admired by millions. And then… there’s you. A glorified office worker who stumbled into this world by accident.

You inhale, shake it off, sip your drink.

But just as you think you’re in the clear, your full government name rings out over the music, a curious voice cutting through the din.

“I heard you were gonna be here.”

You turn, and there he is.

“Jang Yijeong. Long time no see.”

He leans against the bar, the corners of his lips curling in amusement. “Indeed.”

The weight of history sits between you. It’s not bad blood, not really, but there’s something about seeing someone from your past in a space that so obviously belongs to your present that feels a little jarring.

Especially because you suddenly meet said present’s eyes from across the room and the motherfucker mouths, keep it in… and you squirm in your seat as a flush of fluid threatens to trickle down your thighs.

“So, Yoongi-yah, huh?” Yijeong tilts his head, studying you and maybe your odd facial expression right now. “Small world.”

“Yeah.” You shift, inhaling sharply. “So how have you been?”

“Really good. Worked on Yoongi’s last album and tour before his service. Now I’m going back and forth between here and the US, trying to do my own thing.”

“Wow.” You blink, forcing a smile. “I’m happy for you.”

His success doesn’t surprise you. He’s always been talented, always had that drive. But hearing it out loud, seeing how effortlessly he fits into this world—it stirs something unpleasant in your chest.

“How about you?” he asks.

You take another sip of your drink, stalling. “Just boring stuff. I work in the Yongsan municipal office.”

“Oh, you’re still there?” His brows lift, his voice light, but something about the phrasing makes your stomach twist.

Still.

Like you should have moved on by now. Like you’ve been standing in place while the rest of the world surged forward.

You force a small laugh, trying not to let it show. “Yeah, still there.”

Yijeong hums, nodding slowly. “Good thing you didn’t leave.” He gestures toward the other side of the room where Yoongi is now laughing at something someone said, looking so effortlessly cool. “Or else you wouldn’t have met Yoongi.”

And honestly, what do you say to that?

Because he’s right. If you had taken any of the other job offers, if you had made even the smallest change to your path, you wouldn’t be here.

But the way he says it makes it sound like Yoongi is the best thing that’s ever happened to you. Like meeting him was some stroke of dumb luck, the one extraordinary thing in an otherwise unimpressive life.

Like Yoongi is a prize you won rather than a person who chose you.

You swallow, looking down at your drink. The ice clinks against the glass, but it doesn’t drown out the thoughts forming in your head. Is that what people see when they look at you? A nobody who somehow landed Min Yoongi?

Your fingers tighten around the glass. And suddenly, the room doesn’t feel so warm anymore.

As you make your way back toward Yoongi, a voice stops you.

“You must be the famous Y/N.”

You turn, surprised to see a woman smiling at you, her glossy lips curled into something amused but warm. She’s effortlessly chic, her black dress draped elegantly over her frame.

“Oh,” you say, blinking as recognition sets in. His Mina-noona. You’ve heard Yoongi mention her before—a longtime friend, someone he respects. 

“I’m Mina,” she says, offering her hand. You shake it, feeling slightly scrutinized under her gaze—but not in a malicious way. More like she’s curious, trying to piece together the puzzle that is you.

“Yoongi talks about you,” she adds, eyes twinkling.

Your brows lift slightly. “He does?”

Mina hums, taking a sip of her drink. “Not much, but enough. He’s… different these days.”

“Different how?”

“I don’t know,” she muses. “Softer, maybe. More invested.”

Your stomach does a little flip, but before you can fully process it, Mina gives you a knowing look. “You do know what you’re getting into, right?”

The flip turns into a twist. “What do you mean?”

Mina chuckles, shaking her head. “Nothing bad,” she reassures you, waving a hand. “Just… Yoongi’s always been a certain way. Keeps people at arm’s length. Not the type to—” She pauses, then shrugs. “Well. Not the type to bring someone to a party like this.”

You try to keep your expression neutral, but the words settle uncomfortably in your chest. Is she trying to insinuate that Yoongi tends to go for just casual, a typical fuckboi even?

“You must be special,” she adds, smiling. It’s meant to be kind, but it only stirs something uneasy inside you.

You force a small laugh. “I’d like to think so.”

Mina gives your arm a gentle squeeze before stepping back. “It was nice to finally meet you,” she says genuinely. “Enjoy tonight.”

She disappears into the crowd before you can respond, leaving you standing there, your mind spinning.

When you glance back, Yoongi is already making his way toward you, casually grabbing a quiche from a passing waiter and popping it into his mouth.

“You alright, jagi?” Yoongi’s voice is gentle, cutting through the noise of the party like a thread pulling you back to him. 

You nod, pasting on a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

But you’re not. Not really.

Because the moment Yijeong walked away, the thoughts started spiraling. And after that conversation with Mina, it’s like a dull ache has settled into your chest, impossible to shake.

You think back to the office girls months ago, how they teased you when Yoongi first started working in your department. The Blessed One, they had called you. The lucky girl who got to work closely with Min Yoongi. It was all in good fun, lighthearted banter at the time, but now, the words twist in your head.

Do you not deserve someone like him?

Do you not deserve him?

You shouldn’t care what anyone else thinks. You know that. Yoongi is here, with you, choosing you. That should be enough.

And yet, the doubt lingers, wrapping around your confidence like vines, tightening.

A squeeze on your waist brings you back. You blink, meeting Yoongi’s eyes. He’s studying you carefully, his gaze flickering over your face like he can see every thought running through your head.

“You sure?” he murmurs.

You force yourself to nod, offering another small smile as you swipe the crumbs on the corner of his mouth with your knuckle. “Yeah… just a little overwhelmed.”

“Let’s get out of here soon, okay?”

You nod again, pressing into his side just slightly, grateful for the comfort he gives so effortlessly. But the thoughts don’t go away.

And you’re starting to wonder if they ever will.

The drive home is quiet, but Yoongi’s hand wraps around yours, thumb brushing lightly across your knuckles. The silence feels heavy, as if he’s waiting for you to say something, but you’re still sifting through the evening’s interactions, trying to make sense of your emotions.

Finally, Yoongi speaks, his voice low. “Jagi-ya. I don’t know what happened, but you can talk to me,” he says, his tone soft but firm. His hand tightens around yours. “Was it something Yijeong or Mina said?”

You swallow, staring out the window as the streetlights blur past. “It’s not just them, Yoongi,” you murmur, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “It’s… I don’t know. Tonight, it just hit me how different our worlds are. I mean, maybe I don’t belong here, in all of this. You deserve someone who just… fits better.”

Yoongi stares, confusion etched in his features.

“It’s just, people look at you, and it’s like they’re trying to see if I measure up. I can feel it, you know?”

He lets out a slow breath, his gaze steady and intent. “That’s… don’t even worry about that, jagi. I’m here, because I want to be with you.” 

A rush of gratitude warms you, but doubt still clings, threading through your insecurities.

“Thanks, Yoongi,” you murmur, squeezing his hand. “Maybe I just need some time to rest.”

As the driver pulls up outside your apartment, he studies you, his brow knitting in concern. “Want me to come up?” His question is soft, unassuming, yet full of care. “I can make you the sriracha grilled cheese sandwich you really liked last time.”

You reach over, cupping his cheek. “Not tonight,” you say, brushing your thumb gently over that little freckle below his eye. “I think I just need a little time. Alone.”

He sighs, long and labored as he presses your hand against his face a little longer before letting it drop. “I don't love this.” He says, his face falling slightly, but he nods in understanding. “But alright,” he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips staying just long enough to make your heart ache.

“Yoongi…”

“Not that. You don’t call me that anymore…”

Realization hits you. “Baby…”

He nods, eyes moist, and the little wobble of his lips almost makes you want to fold. “Good night, jagi.”

With a final, lingering look, you step out of the car, giving him a small wave as you close the door behind you. The weight of your decision is immediate, filling the quiet of your apartment with the complex feelings from the night. 

As you exhale, you realize you’re left to sort through this alone, the silence amplifying the doubts Yoongi’s reassurance can’t quite erase.

It's 4:12 a.m.

You can’t sleep. How can you? 

You haven’t slept in this bed for days. The scent of jasmine is unfamiliar, when you’ve grown accustomed to sandalwood.

Your memory pillow already forgot the slope of your head.

You flip to your other side, staring at the faint glow of the streetlights filtering through your curtains. Just as you’re about to force your eyes shut, your phone vibrates against your nightstand, the screen lighting up the darkened room.

You check the notification and it's him. Of course it is.

Yoongi: you up?

Any other night, you’d laugh at how much it sounds like a booty call. And maybe it would’ve been. But tonight, it’s different.

You: Cant sleep Yoongi: me too

You stare at your screen, thumbs hovering as you figure out what to say next. But another message is already coming through. 

Yoongi: im outside Yoongi: your apt

Socked feet shuffle to the front door. Every step feels heavy, like your body is torn between running to him and running away.

You swing it open to find Yoongi, looking like a kicked puppy. Your heart cracks.

The sight of him like this—eyes tired, lips pressed into a tight line, hair tousled like he’d been running his fingers through it all night—has you clutching the edge of the doorframe just to keep yourself upright.

You let him inside.

“What are you doing here?” you finally ask, voice quieter than you intended.

Yoongi exhales sharply, his hands pushing through his hair before settling at his sides. 

“I’m here, because…” he starts, then stops, shaking his head like he doesn’t know how to finish the thought. His jaw clenches. His fingers twitch.

You can’t breathe.

And then he says, “I love you.”

The words land like a freefall. No hesitation. No takebacks. Just truth.

“Yoongi…” your voice is barely above a whisper.

“I need you to hear it. Really hear it.” He takes a step closer, trembling hands cupping your cheeks. “I love you,” he repeats, softer this time, like he’s willing you to believe it. “I don’t care how complicated this gets. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I told you before, I’m all-in.”

Your heart is pounding, a chaotic rhythm against your ribs.

Because deep down, you already knew.

You knew in the way he looked at you across the office when he thought no one else was watching. You knew in the way he pulled you closer in his sleep, in the way he whispered your name like a prayer.

But hearing him admit it to it like this—like he was physically incapable of handling a possibility where you didn’t feel the same way, where you would’ve given this up, it’s perhaps the most honest thing you’ve ever heard.

And now, the question isn’t whether he loves you.

It’s whether you’re ready to believe that you deserve to be loved like this. If you deserve to be loved by Min Yoongi…

Yoongi barely has time to register it before your hands are in his hair, yanking him down, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that’s messy, desperate, everything.

He groans into your mouth, his hands flying to your waist, fingers digging into the thin fabric of your sleep shirt.

You press into him, chest to chest, feeling the heat radiating off his skin. His mouth moves against yours with urgency, his tongue sweeping past your lips, stealing whatever breath you had left.

You don’t stop kissing him. You can’t. Not even as he walks you backwards toward your bedroom. He kicks the door shut behind him, his body pressing you against it, trapping you between the cool wood and the solid heat of him.

His hands roam, slipping under your sleep shirt, fingers skimming over your tits, tracing the curve of your spine. Your head tilts back as he trails kisses down your jaw, your neck, teeth scraping just enough to make you shiver.

“Jagiya,” he mumbles, voice thick, rasping against your skin.

You don’t have any other words right now—not when he’s sucking a wet bruise into your collarbone, not when his fingers slide lower, dancing along the lace of your panties.

So you just say the only thing that matters. “I love you, too.”

A low curse falls from his lips, and then he’s moving you to the bed, dropping you onto the mattress before crawling over you, eyes dark, hungry.

“Say it again.”

His hands slip beneath your shirt, dragging it up. His lips follow, open-mouthed kisses searing a path up your stomach, taking a nipple between his teeth.

“I love you,” you whisper, voice shaky, hands tangling in his hair, pulling him back up to you.

“I love you, jagi,” Yoongi crashes his mouth to yours again, swallowing your whimpers as his hands slide down—hooking into your panties—slowly, teasingly, pulling them down. “Let me show you what I mean...”

A/N: Whew! ARe wE GoOD??? The L bomb has been dropped and I am soooo happy because these two deserve the world.

Let me know what you think in the comments. Or do reblog if you are so inclined. <3

Thank you for reading, you lovely, beautiful human! xo

Permanent Taglist Part 1: (The rest to follow in a reblog)

@wonh0oe @hyukaluve @glossdebut @kiki-zb @kookiewithluv

@agustblog @maryhopemei @perfectiondazesworld @kimsaerom @kam9404

@00-sleepdontweep-00 @tea4sykes @mggv97 @marnz1990

@whydoeyecare @pastelmin @tarahardcore @minjenna @chimmchimmm

@aaclariww @mar-lo-pap @tinytan-gerine @vesperbells @butterymin

@eve1633455 @baechugff @lilkittenjenjen @wobblewobble822 @coffeedepressionsoup

@futuristicenemychaos @jadestonedaeho7 @granataepfelchen @whoa-jo @annyeongbitch7

@chimmisbae @sexytholland @idkjustlovingbts @kpophosblog @tinyelfperson

@yoongicatagenda @codeinebelle @parapiop7 @diame93 @janeelizabeth1216

@withmuchluv-tannie @abadiimm @angellekookie

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate my writing without my express permission to do so.

[butchjess]

Ok, so you said (maybe a couple weeks ago? I don't know how Time works) "nobody wants to talk about OCD Rory," but I want you to know that I have literally been thinking about that ever since you said it. So... PLEASE tell me about OCD Rory! I want to talk about it! Well, specifically I want YOU to talk about it, but I want to listen!

Okok.... me and @youhavethesun have been talking about ocd rory quite a bit and i've fleshed a lot of it out in my mind because of it. I think it can helpfully inform a lot of rory's worldview and the sense that she is pretty much holding a gun to her own head the entire show. from a meta standpoint the role of good girl is put upon rory only rly after the pilot episode. And to tie it to an in-universe explanation, i think viewing the show through an OCD rory lens makes it a lot more enjoyable to contend with the good girl archetype placed upon her bc it becomes a product of rory's beliefs and the undeniable fact (in her mind) that she was a "mistake" and that is this the reason that her entire family is basically broken. Even though emily tells her that it wasn't her fault in s1, I think that first conflict w/ christopher's parents rly cements this idea in her mind, when before she wasn't necessarily aware of this responsibility that she now has to fix her family, to keep them together, and to prove that her own existence outweighs (or at least balances out) all the negatives that resulted from it.

This framework allows for three main OCD struggles i think rory has. which is moral obsessiveness, self punishment, and a fixation on responsibility/guilt (there are other more official/psychiatric terms for these concepts but i'm treating this like a philosophy paper so i'm making my own terms. and also sometimes i despise psychiatry anyway). Her main rituals I'd say usually center around the idea of what she is "supposed" to do. and she has many habits to help her figure this nebulous idea out (pro/con lists, warping events to fit molds that are easier to understand, planned schedules of her day mainly wrt studying etc).

now, rory does some things that can be viewed as morally reprehensible (sleeping with a married man(even though he told her he broke up w lindsay but i digress), crashing the yacht, kissing jess), she only really does them if they make some kind of sense to her, or if she has just like given up on everything altogether as a way to punish herself for failure, or if it is a purely impulsive action driven solely by instinct and feeling (rare). She sleeps with dean because dean was supposed to be "hers" anyway, and it's her own fault that she let him down and fell in love with jess. she feels like she owes him a lot of things, because he was the perfect guy and she was just defective and couldn't make herself love him. which of course isn't even true, dean was pretty shitty and a source of a lot of her insecurities/irrational fears around relationships. The point is that rory believes dean was a great guy, partly because lorelai kept telling her that he was, but lorelai never saw the worst of their arguments anyway and also assumes dean is just a good guy. she never has any evidence to think otherwise (and she doesn't have a Failed Mirror Test Aggression reaction to him like she does with jess. and logan of course just comes across as an asshole at first glance anyway even to rory). and so this kinda warps a lot of rory's expectations around what a relationship is "supposed" to look like, and what you owe to the people that you're in a relationship with. I'd also like to note that dean makes fun of rory's pro/con lists when she doesn't say i love you back to him in s1. which is ofc unnecessarily cruel but it makes sense that he would take her hesitation as indecisiveness or something, and would link this to her lists that she uses specifically to help herself make the most logical decisions possible.

this extreme responsibility/irrational sense of guilt extends all the way to logan. she throws herself into taking care of him after his accident because he nearly got himself killed and she thinks it was her fault. if she didnt feel the way she did about him cheating on her (because rory did still fully think he cheated on her) and was more about to break up with him, then he wouldn't have gotten hurt. and if he had DIED, it would be even more her fault, and she would never forgive herself. Rory invalidates/tries to destroy her own genuine feelings of hurt, because she was in the wrong to feel that way at all. in her perception. again she warps her feelings/memories to fit this responsibility. so the moral obsessiveness ties directly into her responsibility for others. similarly when rory feels she's been wronged, or that other people have not done what they're supposed to, she feels free to be upset and angry about it. Like only after chris makes a promise to lorelai and rory that he fails to keep yet again, does rory decide he's pretty much a lost cause in her life. especially after luke and lorelai get together.

Of course the biggest and most comprehensible example of rory's self-punishment is after she misses her mom's graduation, and the panic rambling self loathing that results from it.

I don't think most people would respond with this feverish anxious neurotic amount of regret and self hatred and confusion and begging to be hurt to be punished and beaten and killed and blown up with a thousand grenades just to make it up to her mom. for doing the worst thing she could ever possibly do which is to let her down. She's not in love with jess because she can't be, she isn't supposed to be, she would never do something like that who is that girl. who is that FREAK. and she's only calmed down when lorelai turns it around on her and gets her to eat something with her by framing it as the best thing she could do for lorelai. for doing the worst thing in the world (skipping school to see the guy she's in love with and missing her mom's graduation), it has to be evened out. it has to be. everything will go back to the way it's supposed to be. We'll go anywhere you want, my treat, and I won't enjoy it.

[inosukijiro]

✮⋆˙ sam girls

𝙨𝙮𝙣. ━ horrified by becky’s actions, you stay away from sam.

━ 𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨. hii so i made this bc i just watched a becky episode and 👀 . anyways, i wrote this over a hundred times, so this might be v bad and i might go cry and disappear again :) will make a pt. 2 tho

━ 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨. fluff. set in or after season 8. self-insert coded. fem!reader. modern reader in spn. mentions of becky. im not good with dialogue. this is absolutely not proof read. sam-centric. might be very ooc (as always). 😭 2.1k words. 

   ─── ⋆⋅𖦹⋅⋆ ───  ─── ⋆⋅𖦹⋅⋆ ───  ─── ⋆⋅𖦹⋅⋆ ───

You’re reserved. It's the best way that you could describe it. It's done in such a meticulous way that no one could really tell. And you’re fine with that. It's how you wanted it, anyways. You make sure that nothing seems out of place. You’re careful, even though you really don’t need to be. Because even though it's a fact that you are now friends with the brothers — you are also very close friends with Sam. And it's because of him that you can’t just let go. 

And that… sucks, to say the least. It sucks because you never thought that he would ever want to be your friend. You actually don’t know what you’ve done to have him be drawn to you so much. You think, maybe, it might be the universe testing you somehow. Because it isn’t just that Sam is nice, or that he’s still trying to make you feel welcome. Though, it could be that Sam is just restless from spending too much time around his brother, but you aren’t entirely sure. No, it's in the way Sam's eyes light up when he spots you. It’s in how he’s so quick to talk to you, almost like he’s eager. It’s in the way he gets you to ramble on and on about your passions or things you miss — the way it makes your heart feel full. It’s in the way he makes you laugh, where there’s a look in his eyes you can’t quite place — but it's a good look. How sometimes you both end up talking for hours about something that means absolutely nothing at all. It’s easy. Existing with Sam is just easy, and that's why you think it's too good to be true. And that's why you never let yourself get too comfortable. 

Because you aren't sure if you’re just seeing things; if you’re reading too much into the little stuff or if you’re just being paranoid. Because there is one thing that was very obvious and very clear to you, long before ever being in the presence of the Winchesters  — you would have never made Sam Winchester uncomfortable the way Becky had. It’s common sense, really, and it isn’t that hard to do; especially if you were someone who respected the bodily autonomy of another person. You would never do any of the things she did — but at the start, neither of the boys knew that. And after a while they got the hint that, yeah, you were not Becky and never would be.

So even now, months later, you still keep Sam at arms length in a weird attempt to keep things normal. Though, you aren’t actually sure it's doing anything — it isn’t — but to you it is, and that's all that matters. Because the truth is, you like him more than you should. You’ve had a crush on Sam Winchester since the first time you watched the show and that never changed. Except, maybe, for your arrival and the month following it. Any feelings completely vanished for the time being as you were in a constant state of panic the whole time. Though now, with you being more at ease and a little more settled in, the small romantic thoughts crept back into your head. And at this moment, you are not going to make any sudden movements that would indicate that fact. Because as smart as Sam was, you were hoping that he wasn’t smart enough to see through you.

And, while that's great for you, it’s actually a massive problem for Sam. It's a problem because Sam does, in fact, like you. He likes you and yet to him, it seemed like you were ignoring every possible sign of it. At first he’ll think that you just want to be friends, or maybe you really just don’t notice. Which is funny, because Dean definitely notices and won’t stop giving him shit about it. But then Sam will notice the way when you two talk — that the smile you have doesn’t really meet your eyes, or the way you give him space. The way you keep a good distance away from him like you’re afraid to crowd him; or the way you try too hard to not brush your fingers against his whenever he hands something over to you — which by the way, he totally does on purpose. God, he's so pathetic. 

Sam’s aware that it's never out of malice — he can see that. You’re always warm and thoughtful, and always just so considerate. And yet, there’s something behind your eyes, something just out of reach. Sam will never pry, though. At least not yet. He lets you keep your distance, lets you think he doesn’t notice the way you keep yourself contained. But he does. And maybe he should say something, maybe he should push. But he doesn’t. Instead, he keeps thinking about it until it boils over. It's the miniscule things that he obsesses over, because maybe it's just him. That he's just reading too much into it. But he doesn’t think so. Dean will think so. He thinks Sam should just ask you out and leave him alone about it. 

“I don’t know, man.” Dean will say, very unhelpfully. “Maybe she's scared of you thinking she's some type of freak or something.” It's an… odd thing to say. But Dean is drunk, and Sam really shouldn’t be surprised when he was the one that barged into Dean's room at this hour. “She does come from that other place…so…” And he’s waving Sam off, too wrapped up in his westerns to finish. 

However, it’s like a light bulb going off in his mind, and Sam suddenly gets it. And maybe he should feel a little stupid for not getting it sooner. But he gets it now. And he’s off to go find you, because this just can’t wait till morning — he wouldn’t be able to sleep otherwise. Not that he sleeps much anyways. 

He finds you in the bunkers library, reading, with your phone laying face down on the table. It's not unusual for you to be there, but he’s lucky to catch you before you’ve decided you can’t take being up anymore. He takes a moment to breathe in the sight of you though. You’re gorgeous, the way the dim lit of the room paints your features. The way your hair falls because your head is tilted a certain way, and all Sam wants to do is brush it behind your ear. He knows you're not actually paying attention to the book in your hands. He sees you fidget, your eyes shifting over to your phone; you look sad almost, and Sam can’t take it anymore. 

He doesn’t need to convince himself of anything before he's already on his way over to you. He offers a soft greeting to alert you of his presence and sees the way you light up just a bit. It makes him smile as he settles into the chair next to you, but no sooner does he take a seat, he notices the way you shift your body to look at him. It's nothing big, or at least, it shouldn’t be. Just a small adjustment — an inch, maybe two — like that tiny bit of space will make some kind of difference. Like you’re subconsciously trying not to be too close to him. Sure, maybe you just want to give him your full attention, which he knows is probably also true. But the way you move is careful and deliberate, as if you’re hyper aware of the space between you. It doesn’t take him by surprise though. 

What does take him by surprise, is the answer to his question. Not because it isn’t what he's expecting — it is, to some degree, anyways — but he can’t believe he was right. When he asks, he isn't mean or condescending, he isn’t bullying an answer out of you or being accusatory. No, he asks all nice, putting those puppy eyes to work. His voice is soft and calm, easing you into the conversation with clarity that you hadn’t done anything wrong; he just wants to know why you're so tense towards him. And for a moment, he expects you to deny deny deny. You don’t though. Instead, you let out this big strained sigh, wincing at your words before they even leave your mouth. It's like you’ve accepted defeat, like there was no use in trying to come up with some excuse. You felt you owed him the truth, and also you just couldn’t take it anymore. In doing that, however, it's the first time Sams seen you relax.

“I’m sorry. I… guess I’m still trying to get used to, you know, all this.” You apologize, and while it doesn’t seem like you’re that nervous, you are. But somehow that doesn’t convey itself through your words. Truthfully, to Sam you sound a bit shy, and it's cute. Sam nods along, understanding and a bit on edge for you to continue. You look like you have a lot on your mind and he’s ready to listen. “And I may have been a little worried about… making you uncomfortable.”

It takes a minute for your words to really register with him. As soon as they do though, Sam's expression softens as he watches you. He gets it — in fact, he appreciates it. That’s actually really sweet of you. In the midst of trying to find your footing in a world that shouldn’t even exist outside a screen, while you’re still trying to adjust to everything — you’re worried about him. It’s thoughtful, in a way that makes something warm settle in his chest. 

But as he thinks it over, turning your words around in his mind, something else clicks. You said him specifically — not anyone else in general, not Dean, just him. And the more he thinks about it, the clearer it becomes. You’re not just overthinking because you don’t want to be weird. You’re overthinking because of Becky. And Becky was his problem. Which means this — your carefulness, your nervous little hesitations — they’re all because of him. And then it dawns on Sam, confirming the sneaking suspicions he’s had already. That the way you speak, the way you worry, the way you care just a little too much. It isn’t just because you’re so kind and mindful. No, it all pieces itself together. You’re a Sam girl. You like him.

Before he even realizes it, Sam is already shaking his head, keen on reassuring you. You don’t need to apologize. You don’t need to worry about that — about him. He tells you as his voice is gentle but certain. He trusts you, in a way that he can’t explain, and there’s no way you could ever make him uncomfortable. And as he speaks, he watches the way you take in his words, the flicker of relief that crosses your face, the way your shoulders ease just the slightest bit. And something about it, about you, makes his chest feel strangely light.

Now there’s this quiet, new awareness that lingers between you both. It’s nice. Easy. The conversation continues deep into the night, shifting into something lighter, smoother — like an exhale after holding in a breath for too long. There’s something refreshing about it, about you, and it feels like a piece of something he hadn’t realized was missing just clicked into place. And maybe that’s why, as you keep talking, laughing softly at something he says, Sam lets himself settle into it. This new thing, whatever it is — is beautiful. 

And later, in the dark of his room, when it’s dangerously way too late for him to be up and you’re long retreated back into your room — Sam lets himself think back to your conversation. He replays it over and over. Because no, he’s not going to spill his guts any time soon. At least, not yet. First, he needs to ease you out of that careful tension, to get you to stop overthinking every little thing around him. It’s not just going to happen in a day, and Sam doesn’t expect it to. It’s not the time to lay it all out there, even if he’s almost certain you feel the same. He wants to take this slow — wants to do it right. The last thing he’d ever want is to make a mistake with you.

Still, that doesn’t stop the anticipation from drumming against his chest. He wants to tell you. Desperately. But he’ll wait, just a little longer. And maybe — just maybe — he’ll let himself take a little pride in it. In the fact that you’re a Sam girl. He lets the thought sit with him; lets a small, shy smile pull at his lips as he leans back against his pillows, staring at his ceiling and thinking about all the possibilities. Yeah. You’re a Sam girl. And he’s okay with that.

i think i yapped too much again, sorry chat ><

[hopegrasping]

High likelihood this post isn't for you btw. If you're seeing this you're probably like me and/or post for people like me and that's super cool. This post is for the people who follow the people who follow the people who follow you.

Amongst community it's okay to value stuff like imperfection and messiness as part of your art, that's cool, but This Post is for your shitty coworker you hate and who hates you, with their nasty starbucks and their messy bun (neutral) and yucky lululemon leggings. I want her to stop giving that ignorant ass man her money. I don't need her to abstain from purchasing from Lululemon as an act of solidarity with the people who are impacted by the casual wack ass racism the owner is incredibly open about because she Cares about people, it'd be cool for sure I'd really like that, but ultimately I just need her to go through the motions of Not Spending Her Money There and Diy is the best way to get that to happen. She doesn't need to see it as an act of resistance against The Man etc, she just needs to see it as A Thing That's Normal For A Person To Do +Have It Look Good And she's not going to do that if everywhere she looks people are talking about how "oh it's supposed to look bad! That's the charm of it! :)" because she doesn't value shit like the environment, or care about the unethical labor practices of most fast fashion brands, etc. She cares about Looking Good or at least Looking Like Everybody Else. She works her 12 hour nursing shift at her job she hates going to but does anyway to make ends meet and then she goes home to cook and binge watch Netflix with her racist boyfriend and I need her to not throw away her leggings at the first sign of them Being Worn At All. I want her wack ass to get sewing and you're not helping meeeee guys this is what capitalists WANT, you're doing their Job For Them they WANT DIY to be seen as The Craft You Totally Shouldn't Do If You're Not Alternative Bc Doesn't It Look Soooooo Shitty and bad? You Should Buy Our Graphic Tees and Leave The Sewing To The Professionals (That We're Taking Advantage Of.) Bc They're Already Naturally Good At It And You're Not. :) You Have So Little Time After All, And No Experience <3 So If You Try It'll Just Look Bad So Just Let Us Do It And The Only Lining YOU'LL Have To Do To Our Pockets ;) heehee.

I DON'T WANT THAT THATS THE DEVIL!!!

If you That Girl or similar in the way that you are Just A Normal Person listen to me. Momentary truce, this does not make us friends. Diy doesn't Have to look good, but it IS something you can get good at. It takes time, effort, and practice and it's a skill that's as valuable as it is underrated. It can save you a lot of money, it can make you useful and popular and it gives you a lot of artistic given you give a shit about that a lot of people don't and that's okay. Anything the shops can sell you, you can probably Legitimately make better. The quality of clothes has gone Way down in recent years and I think that's something we can agree on regardless of if you believe in Round Earth and Climate Change. It'll probably last longer too. I don't need you to like me or the way I presented this information, but I do really want to emphasize that you don't have to be like me in any way to do diy. That is the point of this post.

Let go of the idea that diy will inherently look shit. All your clothes are handmade you just don't see the people doing it.

[writinganon1]

I mighta posted this before.... i dont remeber honestly

Anyway, vibe is terrified by your crush bc there's a cute boy in my class but he terrifies me and my vocabulary is reduced to bare minimum and I just panic lol

~

A breeze rustled through the trees as he watched her lie on the ground. Her face was buried in the grass, her fingers twitching occasionally. He looked back to the lake, a faint blue shimmer still floating through the water. He sighed and nudged a foot at Kendra. She mumbled something incomprehensible and swatted her arm in the opposite direction he had kicked her.

He leaned down to pick her up when he noticed her shirt was…well, it was somewhere. Pausing to squat next to her, he poked at her side again. She didn’t move. He brushed a few bugs away from her shoulder as he stared. She’d get eaten alive by mosquitoes the longer they stayed out here. Or catch a cold. Wet hair and the chill of the night never mixed well. 

He knew from experience.

Standing up, he begrudgingly took his own jacket off and placed it over her like a blanket. She made grabby hands at the fabric before rolling herself into a burrito. He watched bemused as she fell still again, her face once again buried in the grass.

He looked up to the sky. Deep purple faded into the blue, stars peeking through the clouds. He groaned. They needed to go home, but she obviously was unable to do much of anything. He bent down and hovered his hands over her sprawled figure. He didn’t know how well she would react to being touched without him telling her first. Why on earth had he ever let her drag him out here?

He hesitated a moment longer before lifting her from the ground. Her eyes shot open, arms flailing to the side. He rolled his eyes and shifted his arms to steady her as he walked back to the farm.

“Oh fmnks.” She mumbled, rolling herself to look him in the eye. She stared at his face before reaching out to trace his markings. “You cry purple? Nd you dint tell me!” She slurred. “Purple’z my favorite color.” She exaggerated her words, drawing them out unevenly before she let go of his face and leaned backward, seemingly forgetting that she was being held. 

He shifted his arm again to accommodate her and let her hang off his arm for a moment. She babbled as he walked, taking care to keep her steady as he stumbled through the woods.

This was stupid. All he wanted was a drink. But here he was, carting along dead weight.

She twisted suddenly, falling from his arms before he could catch. Fumbling on the ground for a second, she grabbed a fistful of sticks and held them to her chest. 

“I gotta get these guys back to their parents.” 

“Ken, they’re supposed to be there.” 

“Nuh uh.” She protested, picking up another handful. “Can’t you see how lonely they look?”

He sighed and held out his hand. “You can take some, but the rest have to find their parents on their own ok?” 

She nodded fervently, looking at her collection. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she chose four of the best sticks and cradled them to her chest. “Ready.” 

He had just wanted a drink.

“Aye.” She held her arms out again, letting him lift her before wrapping an arm around his neck and staring into his eyes once more.“Fanks for letting me stay at your place.” She mumbled slowly. “I rlly appriate it evn if I don’t ever see you.”

He paused, before shrugging off the comment and shifting her again. She looked up at him and smiled, loopy and unfocused. Her hand reached for his face again, this time cradling his cheek and pulling his head close to hers.

She leaned in close and whispered against his ear.“I mean it.” She pressed, “I really do appreciate you taking me in.” She pressed a sloppy kiss to his jaw and patted his cheek. “You’re a real one for that.”

He stood frozen, his face heating as he stared wide-eyed at her. She wasn’t focused on him anymore though. Her eyes wandered over the treetops watching in awe as the moonlight filtered through.

His tail twitched as he panicked.

 It’s just the drinks. 

Just the drinks talking. 

She bumped her head against his neck again, taking a deep breath before she started to sing.

“Yo presiento que tú volverás. Mi argumento, yo sé que jamás,” she sang passionately, holding her hand in front of her face like a microphone. “Nadie más te amará ¿Cómo te pude amar? Nadie más te puede aguantar. Como yo, como yo, uh.”

She held her fist to his face, right below his mouth so he could sing too. His face burned brighter as she hummed along to her own personal playlist, dancing slightly in his arms. She frowned when he didn’t sing, jabbing her fist closer to his mouth. He stayed stoic, still save for his tail. She shrugged after a third failed attempt and started a new song.

She put a hand to her chest, dramatically acting out the words as he listened in mild horror.

“ So much power. Soooo much power. But there’s no puppet hereeee.” She finished by making wild jazz hands before promptly barking out a small laugh at a joke before she had even said it. “Thank you, thank you. L’ be er all night.”

She looped an arm around him again, pressing her face to his neck, still holding back laughter. His tail flicked in fear as she watched him through half-lidded eyes. 

Never mind that she had nearly drowned a few minutes ago, she was in his arms right now. She was close, keeping away all the bad thoughts and filling his mind with Kendra.

He liked it when his mind was just Kendra. He would never admit that. She would never want to be close to him. He really should have had more to drink. His mind was clear enough to counter his own rationalization for keeping her away.

He sighed in relief when he saw the farmhouse in the distance. She ran a finger across his shell and giggled. Her mouth moved against his neck as she slurred something about how spongy it was. He stiffened, shivers running down his spine as she continued to lazily outline the spots on his back. He hadn’t drunk enough to numb his senses enough so he wouldn’t feel all weird and floaty every time she touched him.

He shuffled onto the porch, front door creaking as he pulled it open. He stepped inside and found, to his horror, that the house was not empty. Cass was sitting on the couch, a smug look on her face as she looked him up and down.

“You two have fun?” She smirked, eyes hanging over Kendra, who still didn’t have a shirt on.

“Shut. Up.”

“Baby tree,” Kendra mumbled, handing Cass a stick. “Take care of him for me.”

“But of course.” She turned back to him. “What? You two come home soaking wet and she’s half naked.” She poked Kendra in the stomach. “Not to mention she’s covered in dirt and has half the forest in her hair. I’m just going to assume you had a really great time at the lake. That’s all.” She grinned evilly before slinking off to the kitchen.

He was going to murder her. He stomped off to the girl's bedroom, tail flicking wildly in embarrassment. Stupid stupid stupid. He walked in and breathed deeply to try and calm down a little. It smelled like Kendra in here.

Lavender, with a hint of smoke.

 Well, right now she mostly smelled like lake, but the smell still lingered on her skin.

How did she get the smell to stick so well? Was it something she did in the shower? Or after? His face heated again. He did not need to be thinking about that right now.

He hesitated for a moment, tail flicking side to side before dropping his arms and letting her fall to the cot. She made a small noise of protest but quickly wrapped herself into a blanket and fell asleep.

He left quickly, leaving his jacket wrapped around her, not wanting to linger any closer.

~

I don't drink due to my religion, so I was basing Kendra off interactions I've had with drunk people :)

The doodle that inspired this -> rahhhh

oh bonus points if ya can tell me where both the songs are from >:)

@cokoweee

[doueverwonder]

do you have any WTTT headcannons you'd like to share?

sorry it took me a few days I had to remember some I hadn't shared yet + its been mostly branches brainrot the past week and didn't want it to be just them lol

here u go

Gov hates the branches saluting him so much actually, he keeps telling them they don't have to do it but its so habitual they'll never stop. National Guard on the other hand is supposed to salute all the states and territories and stopped doing that forever ago bc some states were so smug about it.

Subregion meetings are always somehow MORE chaotic than region meetings, the Great Lakes and Southwest are tied for number times Gov opened the door, heard yelling, decided "nope." and left without even going in.

At least once a month Gov tries to organize 'region bonding' activities and they're all like "we're not kids at a summer camp what is this smh" cut to the South & West actually about to kill each other over a game of tug of war bc "its unfair, y'all have Alaska! he's like four people!" "stop whining you guys have Texas!" "fuck Texas!" "HEY!"

West Virginia wasn't raised by Virginia like, at all really, but he did get a lot second hand bc Kentucky, Ohio, Indiana and Illinois turned raising West Virginia into a group project and all four of them were raised by Virginia. (Illinois is the guy who didn't do any work but put his name on it/j) (he did do work he had to work to be a worse influence then Ohio smh)

Speaking of, the first state most states met right after joining the union was Virginia, no one knows how she gets places so fast, became a competition to try to beat her and no one ever has. WV and Nevada are the only two that met someone else first.

Michigan, Wisconsin & Minnesota go ice fishing together at least once a year, they don't actually do much fishing but they do get very drunk at like 8 am. so there's that. somehow none of them have fallen and broken something or fallen through the ice... yet.

when Tennessee and Texas started dating the Carolina's gave Tex a shovel talk with such specifics that they were either joking entirely or dead serious and he has nightmares about finding out which one it is.

Florida has an adderall prescription but has never had it filled, he's started using it to get things, tells Gov he'll go right to the pharmacy if he just lets him do this one last chaotic thing (he will never go to the pharmacy).

based on state land mass Ohio and Indiana are both victims of older but shorter with the rest of the Midwest. Minnesota & Illinois will pick Indiana up so she can see/reach things, Ohio's fragile masculinity won't let anyone help him, he'll scale counters first.

California has 2 siblings Baja California Sur (older sister) and Baja California Norte (younger brother), everyone outside of the west + Texas forget about this a lot bc in no way has California ever given middle kid vibes.

Texas being Texas celebrates his birthday THREE TIMES every year, May 7th (Mexican statehood day), March 2nd (texas independence), and December 29th (US statehood day). he does throw major parties for all three.

that's all I can think of right now :3

[ledetlore]

listen, i know everyone hates nathaniel coal and a small part of me does too, but a bigger part of me ACHES wondering about how much he's feeling right now. i mean!! here is your son. your first baby. you loved him so much. you didn't always get it right, and you did your best, even if you didn't have help. maybe, at some point, you started noticing what he lacked, and maybe you pushed him to be better, but that's only because you saw so much potential in him! for the longest time, it was you and him against the world... until suddenly, it wasn't. and that broke you.

but you got up! bc if there's one thing you know how to do, it's to keep going! it's to keep working! to keep living! you have more kids, your family grows, you have more boys and a girl. you can never replace your first baby, but life has gotten better.

and then suddenly. he's back! the son you thought you lost is back!! and he's different and he's hurt and he's been used and abused and oh, he asks you, where were you? why didn't you come after me? why did i have to be the one to go to you? why did you give up? you didnt give up on my your life here, you got up, got better, but not once did you come after me? not once? you gave up on me that easily, papa?

anyway. here's my partner. this man you think of as a monster. he's my family now. he was there for me when you weren't. he knows things about me i'll never tell you.

gideon never says all those things, but that's what nathaniel hears.

what's an old man to do, then, huh? what's an old man to do with all these feelings? does anyone know? certainly not nathaniel coal.

anyway. i can't wait for the breakdown that's about to happen. your fic has me by the throat.

i miss the boys, though. gricko would not STAND for this behavior from the coals, im sure of it.

also are we ever going to figure anything out about gideon's mom?

okay this ask got me so bad I ran a bubble bath, cracked open a nice cold cider and I'm now gonna answer best as I can. Just imagine me typing this on a layer of white bubbles.

Technically, this is answered over the next chapters, but I can give you a sneak peak.

Okay, let's get into it. Radiohead is playing, I am emotional, and fuck it, I wanna answer.

Without giving too much away;

Pa loves Gideon. He loves his kids. When you love something with your whole heart and it goes, it takes your heart with it. None of Pa's kids will ever know what Pa was with Gideon, and they sort of know it, with the way he gets sometimes - looking at the fields like there's still someone running through them when they're all inside. Hopeful.

Pa woke up to Gideon left on his doorstep, months after what he thought was a casual lay with a woman he thought he had dreamed. Parents dead, ranch just about running, about twenty three with no clue in the world of what to do with himself or a baby.

Giving up his youth for the baby, cause that's what you do when you're a good man with a big heart. He gave every part of that big heart to Gideon, keeping just enough back to keep his body running.

Then it's burning.

He's screaming, your baby is screaming, and you're running out to touch him, save him, stroke his hair and whisper that you'd never let anything happen - when a thud hits you, something dark and sharp across your face like the world's cruelest slap.

You wake up to a friend shaking you, begging you to be alive. You get up and you look for him, for your baby, but all there is are steadily filling train tracks, the scent of sulfur, and a long dark horizon.

You lose yourself. You give up. You drink, but that's not enough. Suddenly, all the coin you've been saving? Women. More drinks. Waking up in ditches.

You meet a girl two years younger than you. You saw her when you were younger, in the market with her mother while you had just lost yours.

You fuck her. She's lovely, she's sweet, it's her first time - it's your fiftieth. A month later she runs to your house, paint peeling, still smoke-stained. She's pregnant.

You could get a healer, sweep it all away, but fuck, she's scared. You feel responsible. Suddenly, you're swearing to do right by her and the kid, barely an hour after drinking another bottle of whiskey down. Maybe it helps. Maybe it doesn't.

So you buck up. Quit cold, you ain't a fucking wimp. She helps you, the first few months, and then you're helping her, she's tired, she's hurting, she's got a baby in her and God don't you remember how hard it was to have one just show up?

She gives birth. It's painful, she's screaming, your favourite hat tears in your hands from how tight you're holding it.

You don't give the baby your name, that was Gideon's. You call him John Markus Cowle - it's a fine name enough. The woman, she's sweaty, exhausted, eyes bagged and hands shaking.

She's never looked more beautiful.

You marry the next year, and the ceremony is empty on your side of the aisle, but she's stunning in her white dress. You fall harder than you thought possible.

Life goes on. Three more children, the third a surprise neither expected but both want so so terribly. She's a girl, and suddenly there's two angels in your life. You love and care for your sons, but baby girl is special- the first deep love you've felt since Gideon.

Life is beautiful, for a while. She grows up, like her mother but so stubborn, like you.

Then he comes back.

The day isn't even special. it's not an anniversary or a holiday. It's the start of another week in growing season.

You feel everything, so you make yourself feel nothing. Close yourself. Struggle to speak. He looks nothing like your baby, but all like you, the curve of his brows like his mother (distant as she is in your mind) and scarred like a circus lion. His tail, which used to smack you in bed, is gone. His horns are smaller than you thought they'd be.

He's shackled.

Then out from behind him comes something you've only ever heard about. A lizardfolk. An alligator. Both predators.

You couldn't protect your son, and now there's four more of your babies that you can't see, can't defend. Your girl, your angel, she's too curious - she's so similar to Gideon, who's here now, and she's going to be hurt.

You can't lose another.

Gideon is so big, you can't fit his face in your palm anymore, he looks like you but just a little off, he's beautiful and everything you wanted to see him grow into.

This lizardfolk is dressed far too nice. That's... worse almost. Because the shackles on his wrists need to come from somewhere.

Dear Anon, you will see more soon. Pa also needs to work through this, and he's spent years treating the memory of Gideon like a drop of diamond, precious and unbreakable.

He's a complicated man. I am crying now, having written this out. God, I am not made for this kind of angst, and here I am, hurting myself.

There's going to be a moment it all crashes down and the rubble may not be able to be used to rebuild. Still, a foundation doesn't disappear.

[lynnearlington]

Hi lynne

Say hypothetically, if someone were to be drawing something hcwbl related (maybe they were inspired by recent Wag Lena hc’s (thanks Cassie)), what would a gal picture in her head when she’s thinking about the Lighkeepers jerseys, colours, badge 🤔 if you’re happy to share ??

Ps I am British and have zero knowledge about ice hockey btw thanks… (not sure if the two actually go hand in hand here but we’re going with it as all I’ve ever learned about ice hockey is through this fic)

HELLO this is cassie coming to you live from lynne's inbox - i have been asked to answer this bc i am apparently in charge of the aesthetics

anyway, you won't understand how annoying this is for hockey fans especially ones of a certain region, but the lightkeepers colors and jerseys are based on EDINA HIGH SCHOOL of the great state of minnesota. fun fact: edina residents are famously referred to as the cake eaters in the mighty ducks movies! they are in fact still referred to as that in real life which i know because we just went to the hs state tournaments and saw them play. everyone in the state hates this high school hockey team because they are by far the most iconic and have just fantastic sweaters. minnesota's first iteration of its nhl team pretty much copied these whether minnesotans want to admit it or not

anyway, here are some pictures and then below i will put the lightkeepers logo and explain the specific changes made to the base of these jerseys.

now, the lightkeepers don't have the little hornet or the edina in cursive going down the jersey, obviously. their logo is this roundel of a lighthouse lamp/goal lamp, and it would just go right in the center replacing the edina + hornet combo. below is a winnipeg jets jersey with its roundel logo for scaling and just general "what would a round logo on a hockey jersey look like"

forgive me for i have stolen this from a screenshot of a video of someone going through every logo on nhl 25. the lamp cage would be green, the light rays yellow, and the background they're set against white, while all the other black lines would be green. hopefully that makes sense. i've made this on ps5 but don't have screenshots or access to my ps5 at this time haha.

you don't have to copy this directly if you don't want to, but the logo is definitely for sure a roundel with some version of a lighthouse (or goal light) emitting rays of light in the fantastic kelly green/yellow gold/white combo with NO BLACK INVOLVED.

kara wears number 18 and would eventually get the captaincy at the lightkeepers so she could or could not have the c. here's an edina player with the number 18 and the c (jackson nevers).

i should also note that in the nhl/ahl, players don't have bubbles or cages on their helmets like they do in hs and college (most of the time) - the pwhl does but i hate that because why can't women get smacked in the face by a stick or a puck? it isn't fair. and we don't want to live like that. kara wears a half shield as seen below on the sweet baby face of connor bedard

hopefully this is a complete answer but if you have any more questions please ask

[pineconnie]

TWO MOOTS ASKED FOR SOGGY DUO(/dead wife polycule) AU YAY MORNING GUYS (ranting under cut cause idk if itll be long LMAO)

ok so i THINK this takes place like in between s1 and s2, not just a s2 rewrite ^_^ EUGH im tired this is gonna be in dot points i fear

after s1 parrot spends a good amount of time at their snow house, bc its the last thing they have of him, except it feels wrong to be in a warm house without wifies there so a LOT of this time is spent just sitting at wifies' grave lost-dog style

ken and wato are the only other people who come to wifies grave (or you can add other people to the dead wife polycule if u want idk), the first few times are just ken, she tries to ignore parrot as MUCH as possible cause this aint about them (kenrrot still constantly get pulled together by the wifies string of fate but. for now ken is trying to not acknowledge that pull as much as possible. they have their doom later maybe)

^ parrot does try to talk to her a few times, but they get shut down immediately (ken also tries to visit a few times when parrot isn't there bc she cant talk to wifies grave properly with someone else there)

after maybe like. a week? idk, wato visits by herself !! (idk what kenwato is doing atm but it feels like theyre in a breakup in s2 and its KILLING ME- wato also self isolated after wifies' death so idk)

soggy duo interactions r a lot less rage fueled - wato says she can leave if they need (she has not talked to anyone since wifies atp) parrot makes a very poor attempt at pretending theyre not desperate for her to stay

their conversation is the first thing that makes parrot feel like wifies is there, wato is the only person whos talked about wifies without it being laced with "you did this to him, this is what YOU and everyone else lost" (wato and parrot both denial/nostalgia-stage maxxing)

wato leaves, it feels empty again, so parrot finds her the next day and tries to convince wato to let them stay in the least soggy way possible (its soggy duo though you KNOW they failed) ((wato lets them stay though))

parrot starts asking them about farming civ, pre-uu etc. in a poorly-veiled attempt to ask about wifies that wato sees right through and gets pissed at them for it like "youre not the only one mourning him" (this is the scene i tried writing dialogue for and failed LMAO) and parrot fairly quickly folds, apologises, and they sit in very tense silence for a little bit

then, wato does end up talking about wifies (in farland civ) , except its just about how much he defended and worried about parrot, how much parrot hurt him, how sometimes it felt like wato was hurting from it more than wifies bc of how much he tried to hide it

parrot talks ab how they meant to apologise but they thought they had more time, wato understands but they dont give them absolution or anything

they DO help each other get through the grief a little i think. parrot stops wato from isolating herself, wato lets parrot be able to talk about their grief while also being able to tell them off for doing Parrot Things, they are slightly SLIGHTLY healthy trust!!!

they get doomed with it though (maybe qpr-ful who knows) and eventually seperate again ILL FIGURE OUT HOW ok those r all my thoughts i think (except this kinda goes with the watfies au for wato's experience in this but watfies au is. so long im not posting it again) SORRY THIS IS SO LONG

@pancake-x2 @mangocurist HAI MOOTS :DD

[fifteensjukebox]

god it really is 2013 again my best friend is apparently not anymore and i just saw a girl in american eagle short shorts with a union jack sticker on her phone case i hate it here

[astrobei]

byler x jurassic park. thank you for your time.

[leglessstreetlights]

fleshing out my Relativity Au some more, i fujking love these guys, they're so-

part 1/ part 2