#but the worst that could happen is i get left in their follow requests right?? RIGHT?? but then within like two hours of reqing. lord.

[mqonlighting]

real talk in the tags for a second because i have a crush on a girl and i. a hehe. ahehehe.

will be burying this in reblogs and never touching on it again

[muletia]

[tfp] obsessed!orion pax x human!reader

summary: what if optimus' obsession bypassed his memory loss? what if he was so infatuated that even his past self yearned for you?

cw: fluff, pinch of angst, canon divergence: orion is taken by the autobots, obsessive thoughts, clinginess, orion literally cannot be left alone for one(1) second, tbh nothing happens in this, i just wanted to write obsessed!orion interacting with you, bad writing, silliness

an: i wanted to implement more ideas, but it came out as it did. i will definitely write some more fics with orion, maybe some smut??? ;)) who knows

word count: 4700

"Come to the base. It's urgent."

As you stare at the terse message from Ratchet, your chewing slows and stops. A storm of questions whirls in your mind, panic creeping into your body. Before you can even type a single letter, your phone rings. The caller is none other than the Autobot medic himself. You answer in less than a second.

"Hello? Ratchet, please don't scare me—what exactly happened?"

"It's about Optimus." Your heart skips a beat. "During the last mission, he was... injured. Or, to be precise, damaged."

"Is it serious?" you ask, pacing nervously around the break room. Lunch now long forgotten. "Will he be all right?"

"Physically—he's never looked or felt better. Mentally, however... that's a different story. I'll explain the details when you get here. And make it quick."

"Hold on, wait—I can't just leave work early like that. There's a whole procedure for this. I can't just waltz out, even though I’d love to leave right now."

"...In an hour and a half, I expect to see you here at the base. See you then."

He hangs up. You stare at your phone screen for a moment, replaying the conversation in your head. Something serious must have happened—Ratchet wouldn’t disturb you at work otherwise. And it involved Optimus... You bite your lip, torn by indecision. You need to at least make sure he's okay, to see with your own eyes what Ratchet was talking about. Otherwise, you'll regret your negligence and spend the rest of the day worrying.

Shoving the half-eaten sandwich into your bag, you rush to your computer to draft a request for early leave, praying fervently that your boss will grant it.

You kept pressing the gas, speeding toward the base, trying to balance obeying traffic laws with worrying about the Autobot. You knew he had been preparing for a mission recently, he had told you about it during a ride you shared, but you didn’t expect it to end like this. Maybe you should have, considering you were associated with a race of aliens deeply embroiled in a centuries-long war, but you always pushed such unpleasant thoughts to the back of your mind, wishing your friends the best. Now, though, all the worst scenarios were coming to the surface. Had he fallen into a coma? Was his processor damaged? Had he died? You didn’t want to think about such an ending. Optimus was alive. You were sure of that.

Seeing the familiar red rock, a tight knot of anxiety gripped your throat. In a few moments, you were about to drive into what was practically your second home, not knowing what awaited you. You glanced at the clock. You were half an hour late—well beyond the time Ratchet had given you.

As if on cue, the medic called you again.

“Don’t enter the hangar. Leave the vehicle at the entrance.”

He hung up before you could say a word, and you sighed. The situation had grown even more worrying.

Before you could say a word, he hung up, leaving you to sigh in frustration.

Following his instructions, you parked at the main entrance and made the rest of the journey on foot. The lights seemed especially harsh, glaring into your eyes as the tunnel stretched endlessly ahead of you, as if warning you, giving you one last chance to turn back. But no force on Earth could stop you now. Determined, you marched forward, needing to know what had happened to your friend.

The hangar was full of Autobots, their sheer presence intimidating. You had thought you were over the feeling of smallness that came with being one of the humans among them, but now it hit you again, hard, dredging up memories of when humans in their midst were still a novelty. You froze for a moment, your courage momentarily disappearing in the shadows of giants.

It wasn’t until your eyes landed on the reason you had left work early that you began to breathe again. Optimus stood there, seemingly whole and healthy, facing the platform where the kids likely were. Relief washed over you. He was alive. Your heart was still racing, but the weight of dread lifted slightly, leaving you braced for the next wave of bad news.

"Hey, sorry I’m late. Work took longer than I expected," you called out.

Your voice immediately caught his attention. Optimus turned to you so abruptly that it shocked everyone present, abandoning the conversation he had been engaged in. Tilting your head back to meet his gaze, you were surprised when he knelt down on one knee, making himself more accessible. You still had to look up, but now his face wasn’t obscured by his… windshields.

The first hint that something was off was his smile—wide, cheerful, and curious. Optimus didn’t smile like that, not even when something genuinely delighted him. Worry started gnawing at you again. Something was wrong.

"Greetings. You must be our next human ally, correct?"

At first, you were at a loss for words. Of all the scenarios you had imagined, memory loss hadn’t even crossed your mind. But before the conversation could veer into awkward territory or panic could take hold, you managed to reply, mirroring his smile.

"That’s right."

"You seem… familiar. As though we have met before."

The hangar fell silent, the atmosphere thickening.

"Of course he would remember her," Ratchet hissed under his breath. You shot him a glare filled with venom.

Focusing back on the mech before you, you forced a calm smile, masking the whirlwind of emotions inside you. You felt like you were on the verge of exploding—uncertain whether to jog his memories or pretend this was truly your first meeting. Why hadn’t anyone given you guidance on how to handle this?

"Erm, well…" you began, only for Ratchet to step in and spare you.

"Humans can look quite similar at first glance," the medic interjected. "Orion, this is [Name], the last human who should know of our existence."

A flicker of something lit up in his cyan optics—something indefinable, known only to him.

"Greetings, [Name]. It is a great pleasure to meet you."

He extended a servo toward you. Tentatively, you clasped one of his digits, ignoring the ache in your heart. This shouldn’t have been happening. You shouldn’t have to forge a new relationship with someone so dear to you. It felt uncanny—like he was wearing Optimus’s skin but was someone entirely different inside. It was unnerving, disorienting. Yet this stranger had knelt before you, reduced himself to your scale to show respect, just as Optimus always had. It was a glimpse of his alternate self, a sign of the inherent honor and kindness he still carried.

"Hello, Orion. The pleasure is all mine."

Letting go of his servo, you gave him an apologetic smile, signaling the end of the conversation. You needed answers, clarity about the situation, before you could decide how to proceed. As Orion straightened up, you stepped past him toward the platform. You could feel curious optics on you, particularly his, as you fist-bumped the kids. Unbeknownst to you, Orion clenched his servo in the same way you had during your handshake.

"So," you said to Ratchet, "what happened?"

The medic sighed, clearly weary of recounting the story yet again. But you had to know. You listened intently, the details unsettling and at times horrifying, but you felt a growing sense of calm. At least now you knew what you were dealing with—what topics to avoid, how to act. The relief faded, however, when you learned that the first attempt to restore Optimus’s memories had failed, and no date had been set for the next.

As Ratchet spoke, most of the team dispersed, leaving only you, the medic, and Orion in the hangar. Taking a moment to process everything, you glanced at Orion, catching his curious gaze.

This was your new reality. Optimus was gone, yet not entirely, standing just a few meters away, watching you intently. It was too much to dwell on. You needed something to distract yourself.

Standing from the couch, you headed down the stairs. You figured you’d be here for the rest of the evening, so you might as well find something productive to do.

"[Name]?" Orion’s voice stopped you in your tracks. He looked genuinely concerned. "Are you leaving already?"

His behavior puzzled you.

"I’m just going to grab my things. I’ll be right back."

"I see. May I accompany you?"

Oh, that was adorable—especially with the hopeful tone in his voice.

"I’m not sure you’ll fit in the tunnel in your current form," you teased with a laugh. "It won’t take long. I’ll be back in a minute."

This time, you quickened your pace.

For several hours, Orion's life had been filled with uncertainty. He didn’t know how he had ended up on this planet, who the Autobots around him were, or why they called him "Prime" when he felt he was unworthy of the title. And now, another enigma had appeared—you. Orion could not rationalize the overwhelming need to be near you. He had felt it the moment he laid his optics on you. The need to stay close, to converse, to observe. The need to know you better. Never before had such intense emotions stirred within him for anyone, let alone a stranger. But you weren’t a stranger. This may have been your first meeting, and he may have spoken to you for the first time, but you were not unfamiliar. Of that, he was absolutely certain.

Seconds stretched into minutes, and minutes into hours since you had disappeared into the tunnel. He regretted not following you, even if it meant transforming into his alt-form. At least he would have kept an optic on you, preventing the gnawing feelings of confusion and longing from devouring him from inside.

Ratchet watched his friend closely. He recognized that look, that body language. He knew what it signified, what storm was brewing in Orion’s processor. Optimus had been the same when it came to you. For a brief moment, his friend was back. Too bad it was under such circumstances.

"Do you really remember that woman?" he asked.

"I am not certain," Orion replied, still gazing toward the tunnel. "I feel like she is not a stranger, even though I know this was our first encounter. And as… Prime, if I indeed held that title, was she close to me?"

Primus.

"Perhaps closer than any human, but only Optimus knew to what extent. That might explain why you recognized her."

"Then she is special."

"Everything points to that."

Orion glanced at him, offering a faint smile. For reasons Ratchet couldn’t quite explain, the gesture was hard to look at. Fortunately, you emerged from the tunnel, giving him an excuse to start working again.

"See? I told you it’d only take a minute," you laughed, a black backpack slung over your shoulder.

Orion didn’t confess the truth—that by his reckoning, you had been gone an eternity. He watched intently as you climbed the stairs and took a seat on the couch.

"So, Orion," you began, "what did you do on Cybertron?"

Oh. You were curious about him? Truly? He had never thought of himself as particularly interesting.

It was fortunate that you were not looking at him because his body language betrayed his embarrassment.

"I was an archivist. Do humans on Earth have similar professions?"

"Of course. You know, I’ve always admired archivists. It’s meticulous work, requiring patience and nerves of steel—if you know what I mean. Anyway, it’s an important job, and anyone who takes it up is very cool in my book."

"Cool?"

"You know, fascinating, impressive, admirable."

"Does that mean that... in your optics, I am… cool?"

He asked without thinking and immediately regretted it when you gave him an amused look. Embarrassed, he tilted his helm downward. For such a towering and formidable being, he was also astonishingly skittish. It was peculiar to see a former Prime in such a light, but it made him more relatable, more emotionally accessible. Even so, you couldn’t deny that you missed Optimus.

"Of course, you’re cool to me."

That answer brightened him. A spectacle of stars dances in his optics.

You returned to typing on your laptop, but Orion had other plans for you.

"It seems I still have much to learn about this planet."

"I think you’ll catch on quickly. Besides, if it makes you feel any better, the other bots don’t know everything either. If you’re ever unsure, just ask. I’ll do my best to help."

"Thank you, [Name]. Your kindness is very important to me."

"Anytime. If you’d like, you could also explore our literature—it’ll give you a good insight into what humanity is all about. That sounds like a fitting activity for an archivist, doesn’t it?"

He would much rather have you as his sole source of knowledge about your species, as it meant spending more time with you. He wanted to know not just what you were but who you were—your interests, where you worked, how you spent your free time, your philosophy, beliefs, and hobbies. Everything you were willing to share. He wanted to know you inside and out, to solidify this sense of connection and make it real. And if you wished, he would bare his own secrets, reveal his spark, and show you every part of himself. Perhaps then you might look at him just for a second longer.

"Yes, I believe that would be an enjoyable activity. And what is it that you do?"

He asked question after question, each answer adding a new layer of understanding about you. He shared a little in return, preferring listening to you—your opinions, your perspective.

Time passed swiftly in your company. Relentless and unforgiving, it waited for no one. Orion realized this when you set aside your device and began stretching. It was a mesmerizing sight—your movements were so different from those of Cybertronians, fluid, and light. That was until the air was pierced by the loud crack coming from your back.

Energon froze in his fuel lines, and his spark leaped to his intake.

"[Name]? Are you alright? Are you harmed?"

"Hm?" you hummed, confused. He looked as though calamity had befallen him, as though you’d been beheaded. Then you remembered—it was Orion, not Optimus, and the human body was weird. "Oh, that. Don’t worry, I’m fine. It’s perfectly normal." To prove your point, you began cracking your knuckles, stopping quickly when you saw his horrified expression. "Okay, sorry about that. But really, I’m fine. I just need to stretch."

"Alright…" he replied, though he didn’t seem convinced. You couldn’t blame him.

You rose from the couch and stepped down from the platform, intending to take a short walk. Panic erupted in his spark. Oh no. No, no, no. He didn’t want to be left alone, not after such a jarring experience. He wouldn’t let you out of his optics now—not even for a moment.

"May I accompany you?"

"Of course!" you replied without hesitation, smiling—a gesture he immediately mirrored. "It won’t be very exciting, though."

"On the contrary, I find you to be a most intriguing individual."

"Oh, thank you," you said, clearing your throat, embarrassed. Compliments delivered in that baritone still flustered you.

Together, you ventured deeper into the base, bypassing various sections. In the training room, Arcee worked on her speed, while Bulkhead struck a makeshift punching bag fashioned from an old car. The children watched the spectacle, occasionally entertaining themselves. You both quickly slipped past the always-open entryway and continued on your way.

“[Name]?” Orion inquires. You turn into an empty hangar with a high platform, starting to ascend the stairs.

“Hm?”

“How do humans attempt to court their partners?”

You hadn't expected that kind of question. You stop mid-step, pondering your answer. When you look at him, his expression is dead serious, though his optics betray a determination. Why would he want to know this? You decide it’s probably mere curiosity.

“It depends on the person.” You continue climbing the stairs until you finally reach the top, now level with his faceplate. “Some buy gifts like flowers, others go on elaborate dates. But the common factor is spending time together, and getting to know one another. Feelings tend to develop naturally that way,” you explain. “Actually, that’s an interesting topic. How did it work on Cybertron?”

“Similarly. However, instead of exchanging ‘flowers,’ we presented rare metals or crystals to leave the best impression. To demonstrate strength and potential as a partner.”

“I know a few people who would totally fall for that approach. Heh, I’d be thrilled to get a geode myself.”

Orion suddenly lights up. Were you suggesting something or just sharing an opinion? Whatever it was, he felt compelled to try. To prove himself worthy. Perhaps he could even find the ‘flowers’ you mentioned.

“I see. Thank you for enlightening me.”

“You’re welcome?” you reply, unsure exactly how you’ve helped, but the sight of his broad smile and bright optics makes it all worthwhile. He was utterly adorable.

The two of you chat casually until you’re forced to check the time. You inhale sharply, and Orion tilts his head slightly, curious about your reaction.

“It was great talking to you, but I really need to go. I have work tomorrow and I’d like to get some sleep.”

Panic flashes across his face. He had enjoyed your company so much. He didn’t feel alienated or alone when he was with you. The sense of connection played a significant role, but Orion had already let you into his spark. He had found a safe harbor in you and wasn’t ready to drift away just yet. He wasn’t ready to let go, even if the world around him were to crumble.

“May I accompany you?” he asks, desperation seeping into his tone.

“Excuse me?”

“May I accompany you?” he repeats, now begging.

“My home isn’t exactly designed to host a giant robot. Besides, it’s dangerous and... wait, do you even know the traffic regulations?”

His expression answers the question, but he still attempts to defend himself.

“I have acquainted myself with them partially.”

“Who has the right of way at an uncontrolled intersection?”

He opens his mouth but quickly closes it again, visibly crestfallen. He looks as though he might cry.

“Orion, we’ll see each other tomorrow,” you reassure him. “The first thing I’ll do after work is come here.”

He frantically searches for an argument to keep you with him—anything to prolong your company. Then he remembers his first encounter with human children.

“Every child was assigned a guardian who escorted them home and ensured their safety,” he states, refusing to give up. “Do you have a protector?”

“Unofficially, that was Optimus…”

“Then I would like to carry on his mission.”

“I’m not a child, Orion.”

“I understand that. I merely wish for your safety, [Name],” he explains earnestly. “And… I would prefer not to part from the company most dear to me.”

Your thoughts drift back to something he said earlier—how he recognized the bond you once shared, even though this was your first conversation. He hadn’t recognized Ratchet or anyone from his team—only you.

You tried to put yourself in his position. To suddenly find yourself in a foreign place, surrounded by strangers addressing you by a false name and feeding you information that might as well be fiction. And then, in a world where nothing is familiar, someone steps in—someone you vaguely recognize. You might not know their name, but you know there was once a connection. Wouldn’t you cling to that tiny thread, desperately pulling it closer if someone tried to take it away?

Orion had found solid ground, and you were unintentionally trying to undermine it. You exhale softly. You already knew you’d be saying goodbye to sleep tonight.

“Alright.” His smile makes it all worth it. It’s as though you’ve handed him a star from the sky. “Let’s see what Ratchet has to say about all this.”

"I see no objections."

Orion looks at you with excitement sparkling in his optics.

"Wow, that was quick."

"It's a good excuse for Orion to explore the area and get accustomed to his alt mode."

The medic refrains from adding that if the former leader remained at the base, he would likely have wasted away in longing for you, lamenting to every sentient being that he couldn't wait to see you again. Though the comment teeters on the edge of his glossa, he opts for discretion. Optimus, at least, had never vocalized his peculiar obsession with you quite so openly.

"Should anything unusual occur, contact me immediately. Someone will come for you in the morning," Ratchet advises his friend before turning to you. "Good night, [Name]."

You thank the medic for his diligence and ask him to take some rest, earning a piercing glare that almost feels lethal, then retrieve your backpack and head toward the tunnel. Orion stays close by, not leaving your side even after transforming. Ever the gentleman, he opens the door for you, visibly delighted at the prospect of your first shared drive together. In his mind, this was more than a mere drive—it was a deeply intimate act, almost akin to inviting a partner into one’s private space.

But his dreams are promptly shattered when you inform him that you have your own car.

The journey is uneventful but nerve-wracking; you constantly check your side mirror to ensure Orion is still following you. Thankfully, there are no issues, and he even remembers to use his turn signals when necessary. Everything proceeds smoothly until you pull into your driveway and are struck by a dreadful realization: Will a Peterbilt even fit in my garage?

You park your car to the side, leaving Orion enough space to drive safely. Exiting your vehicle, you open the garage door and wave at him to proceed. You nervously bite your thumb, watching the massive truck carefully edge into the space. There are barely three centimeters between the roof of the truck and the ceiling. When you close the garage door, the already limited space shrinks further.

"So, do you regret your decision now?" you ask, stepping around to the front of the truck.

Orion transforms with meticulous precision, carefully positioning his limbs and helm to avoid damaging the walls. The process goes well until his helm grazes the ceiling with an audible thud, dislodging a few small pieces of debris. He winces slightly and rubs his helm but offers you a warm smile.

"I do not regret my decision."

"Pfff, well, that's good. Are you all right?"

"I am unharmed."

You can’t help but feel guilty for confining him to such a cramped space, but it was his choice. If he insisted, he would simply have to endure it. Of course, that meant you would have to endure it, too, as the issues began almost immediately.

"All right, I’m going to grab my things. I’ll be back in a moment."

He panics again—something you’re beginning to expect from him.

"Please, do not leave me."

His voice is unchanging. A deep and thick baritone that permeates your body, speaking straight to your soul. It is strange to hear the same voice coming out of a shamed and uncertain being, begging you for company.

"I’ll only be gone for two minutes."

You reach for the door handle, but his servo shoots forward, blocking your exit.

"Orion," you chide, your tone sharp and reprimanding.

He doesn’t meet your eyes, his apprehension laid bare.

"Please, I do not wish to be alone."

"Two minutes," you say firmly, though your annoyance falters when you see the raw emotion in his optics. Sighing, you place a hand on the edge of his digit, catching his attention. "I’ll be back. I promise."

He believes you, of course he does. He trusts you to return, yes, he even knows it. It doesn't change the fact that he is frightened, he feels alone, and your proximity calms the storm raging through his processor. His whole body is clamoring for you, screaming for you to stay with him. He craves bodily contact, he wants your soft hands to stroke his metal and your lips to whisper sweet nothings. He wants more, he wants to feel the softness, more, more, more.

He takes his servo away.

"Good mech."

As you disappear through the door, Orion buries his face in his hands. Despite his embarrassment, he can’t suppress a grin. He had enjoyed that moment—far too much.

He wants to hear you say it again.

When you return, you’re carrying a blanket, a deck of UNO cards, some snacks, and your laptop. Orion beams at the sight of you but frowns when he notices you shivering.

"Are you cold?" he asks with concern.

"Hmm? A little, but I’ll warm up soon."

Without warning, he gently scoops you up in his servo, handling you with the utmost care. The shock is brief—you don’t even have time to protest before he places you on his chassis. His servo remains loosely wrapped around you as a precaution, but your back presses against his warm metal frame. Tilting your head up to glare at him for pulling such a stunt, you find him already watching you, amusement dancing in his optics.

"Ask next time before you do something like that," you scold lightly.

"I make no promises," he teases, earning a playful flick to his digit.

"I was planning to play UNO, but since you pulled that move, let’s watch a movie instead. Unless you’d rather do something else?"

"I leave myself entirely at your mercy."

He would have been content doing nothing as long as he could hold you close.

"All right, then. A movie it is."

It's hard for him to keep up with the plot when he's overstimulated, but he tries, because your questions encouraging discussion come out of nowhere. And it was just at moments when he started to drift off, when the optics shifted from the tiny screen to you; when there was only you and him in the world. Sometimes, however, he would focus for longer, especially during the romantic scenes. He longs to experience something similar with you, an indestructible, sappy love. To recite poetry into your ear and watch you blush, to announce to everyone how much you mean to him. To bestow expensive gifts, the geodes you mentioned earlier. He needs your tender words, your praise, your touch. You could do whatever you liked with him, and he would give you his spark.

He worries when you fall silent for too long.

"[Name]?" he calls softly, leaning closer to check on you. Relief washes over him when he sees you’ve simply fallen asleep. Poor thing—you must have been exhausted.

Still, a part of him resents it. He wanted to talk to you longer, watch more films, learn more about human romance to win your favor. But he knows his thoughts are selfish. Setting the laptop aside, he carefully covers you with his other servo, creating a cocoon of warmth and safety.

He's not sure he'll be able to recharge. At least not now, when he was too absorbed in devouring you with his optics. You felt safe with him. You gave him your trust. You chose him.

A spark of possessiveness sweeps through his processor. He doesn't want to let you go. He doesn't want you to go to work tomorrow and leave him for eternity. He also knows he shouldn't think that way. The spark goes out.

Watching you sleep, his processor churns with thoughts. You trusted him. He vows to prove his worth tomorrow, to show you just how deep his feelings run.

Because he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be himself. How much longer he will remain as Orion Pax.

[littlelamy]

Rafe x Reader request: They’ve been going on a few dates, with Rafe in the hopes to get in in her pants. Rafe has been more of a fuckboy, lots of experience, kicks girls out as soon as it’s done and have they been inexperienced – he’s kicked them out straight away before anything happens, not having any energy to ‘’teach’’. Cue to Reader and him about to get intimate, she confesses to being a virgin and he kicks her out. HOWEVER……he this time feels like absolute shit about seeing how sad she got and realizes he has fallen for her….and he tries to fix it (happy ending)

a/n: thank you for request, hope you like it!!💗

rafe cameron was never one to think much beyond the moment. he didn’t overanalyze his hookups, didn’t question why they always left with messy hair and no promises of a second date. he had a rhythm to his life, and it worked for him. girls came and went, his phone a revolving door of contacts he didn’t even bother saving half the time.

until you showed up.

it wasn’t just that you were beautiful—plenty of girls were. but you had this quiet confidence about you, a way of looking at him that didn’t scream take me home now. you made him work for your attention, your time, your smiles. and god, he wanted to work for it.

the first few dates were surprisingly normal. no wild nights, no sneaky excuses to get you alone in his room. you made him laugh, made him feel something he hadn’t in years—light, easy, like he could just be rafe without any expectations. but tonight, as you sat on his couch, sipping wine and smiling at him in that way that made his chest ache, rafe couldn’t ignore the tension humming between you any longer.

he leaned in, testing the waters with a soft brush of his lips against yours. when you didn’t pull away, he kissed you again, deeper this time, his hands sliding to your waist. you melted into him, your fingers tangling in his hair, and that was all the invitation he needed.

rafe pulled you closer, his hands wandering beneath your shirt, his kisses growing more urgent. but just as his fingers brushed against the clasp of your bra, you stiffened, pulling back suddenly.

“wait,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

rafe froze, his hands stilling as he searched your face. “what’s wrong?”

you bit your lip, looking anywhere but at him. “i… i need to tell you something.”

his heart sank, the worst possibilities flashing through his mind. “what is it?”

“i’ve never done this before,” you said quietly, barely audible.

the words hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. rafe blinked, his mind struggling to catch up. “you mean…?”

“i’m a virgin,” you clarified, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

the room suddenly felt too small, too quiet. rafe sat back, running a hand through his hair as he tried to process. a virgin. you were a virgin. he hadn’t expected that. he hadn’t planned for that.

“shit,” he muttered under his breath.

you pulled your knees to your chest, your voice small. “i’m sorry. i should’ve told you sooner.”

“no, it’s not…” rafe trailed off, shaking his head. “it’s not your fault. it’s just… i don’t think i’m the right guy for this.”

your eyes shot up to meet his, wide with confusion and hurt. “what do you mean?”

“i mean… i don’t think i can give you what you deserve for your first time,” he said, his voice hollow. “you should be with someone who can… i don’t know, make it special or whatever. someone who knows how to handle that.”

the words tasted bitter as he said them, but he convinced himself it was the right thing to do. he wasn’t the guy for you, not for something this big. he couldn’t risk screwing it up.

you stood abruptly, grabbing your bag. “i see.”

“wait—”

“no, it’s fine,” you interrupted, your voice trembling as you headed for the door. “thanks for letting me know where we stand.”

rafe didn’t stop you. he didn’t know how. the door clicked shut behind you, and the silence that followed was deafening.

the guilt hit him almost immediately.

rafe spent the next few days trying to ignore the gnawing pit in his stomach, but it was useless. every time he closed his eyes, he saw the hurt on your face, the way your voice cracked when you said thanks for letting me know where we stand.

he tried to tell himself he did the right thing. he wasn’t equipped for this. he wasn’t worthy of this. but that reasoning felt thinner with every passing hour.

by the third sleepless night, he couldn’t take it anymore.

you weren’t expecting to see rafe when you opened the door. he stood there with a sheepish expression, holding a bouquet of flowers that looked suspiciously last-minute.

“hi,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

you crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe. “what do you want?”

“i came to apologize.”

“for what?” you asked, your tone sharp.

“for being a fucking idiot,” he said, his words tumbling out in a rush. “i handled things wrong, and i know i hurt you. i didn’t mean to, but i did, and i’m sorry.”

you stared at him, your defenses still firmly in place. “why now?”

rafe sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “because i haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night. because i was wrong to push you away, and i hate that i made you feel like i didn’t care.”

your heart softened despite yourself, but you weren’t ready to let him off the hook just yet. “and what happens if i let you back in? do you just push me away again the second things get complicated?”

“no,” he said firmly, stepping closer. “i won’t. i swear. i just… i freaked out because i’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and it scared the hell out of me. but i’m done running from it. from you.”

the vulnerability in his voice, the sincerity in his eyes, made your resolve crack. slowly, you stepped aside, letting him in.

rafe didn’t rush you after that.

he was patient in a way you hadn’t expected, taking the time to get to know you in ways that had nothing to do with sex. he remembered the little things you told him—your favorite coffee order, the song that always made you cry, the way you liked your eggs in the morning.

and gradually, the walls between you began to crumble.

it was weeks later, on a quiet friday night, that things came full circle. you were sitting on his couch again, your legs tucked under you as you watched a movie. his arm was draped casually over your shoulders, his thumb tracing absentminded circles on your skin.

when you turned to look at him, he was already watching you, his gaze soft and warm.

“what?” you asked, smiling.

“nothing,” he said, his lips twitching into a grin. “you’re just really fucking cute.”

you rolled your eyes, but your cheeks flushed. “shut up.”

he didn’t. instead, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow and deliberate. his hand cupped your cheek, tilting your face to deepen the kiss.

this time, when his hands wandered, you didn’t stop him.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

you nodded, your eyes locked on his. “i’m sure.”

rafe didn’t rush. he took his time, every touch, every kiss deliberate and reverent. he didn’t just want you—he wanted to make you feel safe, cherished.

and when it was over, he didn’t pull away. instead, he held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you as if letting go would mean losing you all over again.

for the first time in his life, rafe cameron didn’t feel the need to run. he didn’t feel the need for anyone else.

he just wanted you.

and he wasn’t going to mess it up again.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl l @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[porcalinecunt]

ak!jason craving his back alley surgeon (ftm) so much that it physically hurts not to just fuck him right in the middle of their session ,,

021 𐙚 KINKTOBER — 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆

🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩 the arkham knight remained touch starved for too long, so he turns to his nagging yet stupidly cute back alley surgeon! ~

⋆˚࿔ FEATURING . . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ AK! JASON TODD X MALE! READER

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . cw — ftm!reader. dubcon. rough oral sex. throat breeding. throat bulge. fingerings. touch starved jason. past mentions of torture/injuries.

[・:。author’s note ! 「 ✉️ 」・𓂃 ࣪˖ ] i do NOT know how to write endings ;-; but omg anon, i RAN to write this the moment i saw this request! ak!jason todd lives in my head rent free :<

he forgot what normal touch felt like, if it even existed in the desolate gotham city.

and you can’t blame him, the last thing he ever felt were the joker’s ghostly white hands tearing at his skin with any rusty metal he could get his hands on. the burning hot iron engraving a capital J on his cheek.

getting shot on camera in a snuff was somehow the least worst thing that happened to the knight.

naturally, the acidic lake of the lazerous pit only harden his outer shell, rendering him mentally cut off to the concept of affection. hell, he wouldn’t even let the nurses within militia grounds even touch him. grumbling that he can take care it himself with a simple twist of a broken limb or a faulty cauterized wound.

or a visit to your back alley clinic.

after a hellish night of shockwaves and stitches, jason properly met you after you saved his life from a particularly lethal mission. unlike the kind nurses though, you were cold and a little vile. spouting exhausted quips about how ‘braindead’ and ‘reckless’ he was, and how he was a pain in your ass. ah, a vile little bitch. the arkham knight thought.

yet, he couldn’t bring himself to hate you. oh no, despite the sharp tongue, your shockingly soft hands revive a need jason thought he abandoned after his death. he found himself looking forward to the checkups, to your palms resting against his scarred chest and broad shoulders. fingers pressing against his more delicate spots, allowing his mind to wander to the nastiest places.

how delicate was the rest of you?

a question that got him gripping the metal table as you did another checkup on him, making sure he didn’t measly tear off any of the wrapping or bandaids.

jason’s breath hitched once your fingers ghosted over his abs, his chest and his thighs. it didn’t help that with every slight move, he grew harder and harder in his pants. you were fucking teasing him, even if it wasn’t intentional. his boner was growing more obvious and it was like you were purposely playing dumb, agitating the knight.

“shit..fuck it.”

he uttered, sitting up despite your failed attempts to keep him down.

“mister todd, what are you?!- HEY!”

a harsh push threw you far back, stumbling onto the dirty sofa chair while jason quickly followed. you could barley process what was going on when the sound of a belt buckle made you freeze.

“sorry doc, got a problem i can’t fix on my own..”

jason muttered as his pants dropped to his ankles along with his boxers, revealing his ‘problem’. you couldn’t think of anything to say, only stare at his ridiculous girth and his swollen tip leaking precum as it ran down to the base.

“mister todd..—“

“please. c’mon doc..”

he was practically begging, a tone that went straight into your soaked cunt. you had to hold back from straight up palming yourself through your pants. a defeated sigh left your lungs as you leaned forward off the couch and onto your knees. a risky kitty lick snapped the rope of control in jason, a heavy metal hand clasping the back of your head, forcing his dick into your jaw.

he was too big, way too big. your poor mouth was practically stuffed with cock as the knight didn’t let you pull back for a moment. “nose, doc..breath through your nose.” jason sighed, slowing pushing further and further until he was nestled into your throat. a static groan leaked through his gritted teeth, a sound that made you flinch with anticipation.

with eyes screwed shut, you couldn’t even look at him as he pulls his length back only to shove it right back into the jugular, slowly picking up his already relentless pace. the sloshing noises of your spit and his cum mixing filled your ears until your patient’s groans practically drowned out.

gobs of the nasty mix spilled off his soaked dick and through your swollen lips, along with tears that blurred your vision and salted the taste of the knight’s girth. it was all humiliating in the best way possible, you were fucking getting off to it. made you wonder how long he was imagining this very scenario.

“get up.” he suddenly commands with a booming tone, pulling you off his cock with a handful of your hair. “w-wha..?”

“you fuckin’ heard me. get up or i’ll fuck that cunt of yours.”

barley a promise, knowing how fickle the knight is. yet you still followed his command, standing up as he pushed you down onto the metal operation table with your front facing the ceiling. jason, dick still hard and bobbing around as he walked to where your head hung off the edge.

“gonna make you extra useful doc, if you’re okay with that..” he asked with a ragged breath. you were too fucked out to give a proper answer other then a pathetic “uh huh…” with your tongue stuck out. you couldn’t even get another sound out before he stuffs your mouth full once again, this time, with a desperation for an orgasm.

gripping the sides of the metal table, jason thrusts his dick in and out of your throat, a small bulge forming yet visible enough for him to admire.

“atta boy, you’re not bad f’ a doctor..shit..!”

he laughed, listening to your whines and gagging as you rub your thighs together for a source of friction. all this time, you were left neglected as jason used your throat as a free fleshlight. with shaking hands, you reached down through the band of your pants and ran your fingers through your needy little pussy.

“mmm..mister todd..”

you muttered, fucking your fingers into your soaked cunt as you felt his cock twitch in your mouth. he was gonna cum.

“mouf..cum in m’mouf..!” you weakly uttered, earning a mocking coo from the knight. “yeah? you want me to cum in your mouth? ‘course doc..” he panted, his pace growing more relentless somehow.

“consider this returning the favor, f’ being so good to me.”

with a couple more thrusts and some jerkin’ off, a white hot liquid spurted in your mouth and down your throat. heavy and salty was all you can taste as he practically bred your throat full.

jason pulled himself out, watching as gobs of his cum and your spit spill out from your lips and all over your fucked out face. he wished he could take a picture of it just to have something to jerk off to when he can’t sleep.

“so..see you next week?”

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[hannieehaee]

First of all 'closer' is one of the greatest svt fics i've ever read. I could just feel all the wild butterflies aaaaaaaaaa and I still reread it from time to time

Also I've been thinking about mean dom jeonghan a lottttt. So can I request dom jeonghan x reader with like lots of nipple play (idk how you feel abt anal but if you're uncomfortable no need to add it!)

Feel free to scrape this if you're uncomfortable or simply not interested <3

18+ / mdi

content: softdom!jeonghan cuz im really bad at writing doms oops, nipple play, smut, dry humping, anal fingering and anal penetration, afab reader, teasing, jh is an asshole lmao, etc.

wc: 1427

a/n: thank u so much!!! thats my most popular fic haha i had no idea people would like it this much but it makes me so happy<33

a/n 2: also can u tell idk anything about anal oops</3

masterlist

"told you not to argue back, baby. now look where your bad behavior got you."

every word that left his lips did so condescendingly. had it been anyone else (or even under a different context), you wouldve argued back, protected your dignity.

but this was jeonghan. and you were sitting between his legs as you suffered through every one of his touches.

maybe suffering was a bit harsh, but that's exactly how it felt at the moment. his hands had not stopped their torture in the past hour, alternating between circling your clit and finding their way north and on your nipples, liberal in the way he pulled and twisted at them.

endless whines and breaths of frustration left you (meddled in with sounds of genuine pleasure), which you were sure went straight to the length currently pressed up against your back.

"you know this isn't the worst of it, right, baby?", he taunted, "wait til i get my hands to even more fun places. or when i finally put my mouth on you," you could hear the mischief in his voice.

and soon enough, he made good on his word. before even realizing what happened, you were on your back and your gremlin of a boyfriend was smirking above you as he leaned down to kiss at your chest.

it started off slow, soft, just as everything did with jeonghan. but it evolved into teasing and eye-watering. his lips wrapped around your nipple, eyes still on your face as he sucked at it. soft wafts of air were let out against your skin as he breathed through his nose, mouth too occupied on your tits.

"you're so fucking soft, baby. so pretty," and despite the teasing, he continued to be sweet to you.

the juxtaposition between the pleasure from his words and his lack of finesse while sucking at your tits made goosebumps form on your skin. your hand found his hair, pushing him closer, wanting more of both the softness and the harshness.

"love when i play with your tits, don't you, baby? naughty thing," he chuckled, finding your other boob.

meanwhile, his hips had been grinding into your own, molding against them while he entertained himself with your boobs. one of his hands laid itself next to your head to hold himself up while the other played with your neglected tit. you were thoroughly stimulated, yet you knew jeonghan would somehow try to go even further.

and you were proven correctly when his hand left your boob to find its way between your legs. but unexpectedly to you, instead of moving to play with your clit, he bypassed it to reach lower. your body followed with his silent desire, scooting up to give him access.

it was unspoken. his mouth remained occupied with your chest, leaving it more raw and sensitive by the second. his fingers found your hole while you were distracted by his mouth nibbling and pulling at your left nipple, gasping out at both the sudden intrusion and the bite.

"like that, baby? shit, so tight for me. can't wait to see how tight you'll be around my cock," he breathed out as if picturing it.

it didn't take him long to find that spot that had your eyes rolling back. and in usual jeonghan fashion, he made liberal use of it, taking turns in stimulating it and missing it altogether just to get you to cry out in frustration.

"god, you're so easy, baby. i can touch you anywhere and you cry," he chuckled, "such a sensitive little thing."

with his lips still on your chest, he mocked your moans between flicks of his tongue. it was too much. your breasts were overriding with sensitivity, but it felt too good to tell him to stop. you couldn't make a sound anymore. all that left you were hiccuped gasps or silent whines.

at every whine leaving your lips, jeonghan hummed into your chest, encouraging the sounds you made for him and even mocking you at times. it was so frustrating, so damn annoying, but it felt too good for any words of complaint to actually leave your lips.

"you know i won't make you cum, right, baby?", and his fingers suddenly left you. you could feel a smirk and the vibration of a cackle against your tit.

your whine of complaint was only met by a bite to your nipple, making you whine even louder.

"tsk, it's so hard having such a whiny girl begging me to touch her 24/7," he feigned annoyance, "but, maybe if you get on all fours for me, i might consider fucking you," he said it with a patronizing tone that made you want to sock him in the face, but you knew your body.

and so when he distanced himself from you, you willingly turned around, using your elbows for support as you lifted your hips up for him to take into his hands, positioning you against his crotch and teasingly grinding against you.

"see what a good girl you are? you deserve a reward, angel."

instead of reaching into the drawer for the usual condom, you heard the clacking of items as he blindly pulled out a bottle. you heard him struggle to open, letting out a few very jeonghan-like sounds as he opened the lube and squirted out a generous amount on his hands.

being the annoying tease he was, he made sure to slip his fingers in once again, muttering some half-assed excuse that he wanted to check just one last time to see if you were ready for him. your complains were met by a squeeze of your hips and a childish bite to your left hip.

"be good, baby. you were being so good, don't stop now," he tsk'd, "i'll give it to you now, okay?"

it wasn't often that jeonghan made use of your other hole. it was usually saved for special occasions. something about wanting to enjoy it as an extra treat every so often. some very jeonghan reason.

it was a bit of a struggle, but you were always reminded of how worth it it was when you'd hear his moans of struggle as he attempted not to cum within the first few seconds inside you.

"always so tight through here, baby. fucking strangling my dick," he sighed, "but you're ready for me, right, pretty? need me to fuck you now?"

you wailed at him when his hand rounded you, teasing at your clit as his hips began to move behind you. the angle must've been a little awkward for him, but he made it work. he made it work far too good.

"oh god, baby, fuckin' made for me, huh?", he groaned out.

the room was filled with jeonghan's occasional whining and the rhythmic slapping of skin. you were mostly mute, only crying out when he decided to hump at you extra hard in hopes of that exact effect.

"can never last when you're this tight," he whined, "so mean to me. always making me cum so soon," he complained in between thrusts.

he became frantic then, pushing you further into the bed, resulting in your head pressing up on the comforter and drooled. you were a mess, but you were comforted in the fact that jeonghan wasn't likely to be faring any better.

"hannie ..." was all you could mumble as your words muffled. you wanted to warn him, but he knew your body so well that he already knew.

"i know, baby, me too. let go, angel," he sighed out one last time.

you might've blacked out a bit. or maybe he did. perhaps both. it wasn't long til you found yourself lying on that exact same position, except jeonghan was no longer inside you but rather doing his weak attempt at flipping you over so you could cuddle him despite the mess forming between you.

"you make this so hard for me when you pass out," he grumbled jokingly, finally getting you to nuzzle into his neck.

his lips kissed at any area available, even ending up at your arm and sternum at some point. he didn't usually care as long as he was kissing you.

"then don't fuck my ass, you idiot," you bit at his arm, earning a 'wah!" from him.

"brat."

"says you."

he chuckled, giving you a peck on your lips this time.

"i'll give you five minutes before another failed attempt at cleaning you up," he warned.

"sure, old man."

and that earned you a bite in return.

[kasagia]

imgonnagetyouback

Pairing: Benny Cross x fem!ex-girlfiriend! reader Summary: After your rather stormy breakup, Benny decides he can't live without you. He'll get you back. At any cost. Even if he has to force you over his motorcycle and take you far out of town. Taglist for Benny: @aleemendoza2425-blog Benny Cross' Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist P.S. I accept requests for Benny if you want to read sth specific with our boy 😊

Even if it's handcuffed I'm leaving here with you Bygones will be bygone eras Fading into gray We broke all the pieces, but still want to play the game I told my friends I hate you but I love you just the same Pick your poison, babe I'm poison either way... Whether I'm gonna be your wife or Gonna smash up your bike I haven't decided yet But I'm gonna get you back - "imgonnagetyouback" Taylor Swift

“What the hell is he doing here?” You ask angrily, looking out your office window as you see your ex’s Harley parked next to your car.

"Maybe he forgot something from you. Did you give him all his stuff back?" Your friend asks, putting the papers into a folder.

"No. I gathered all four of his shirts and two pairs of pants and made myself a campfire behind the house." You huff angrily, closing the blinds so you wouldn't have to watch the blue-eyed Vandal leaning against your car.

"So what does he want? From what you've told me, your relationship ended in a hell of a bad way, and he was a world-class asshole." You tremble at the mere memory of your breakup with Benny.

You and he met at one of the Vandals' bar. You happened to go there for a drink with your girls; he noticed you and started talking with you. He was flirting with you the whole night and tried to take you with him for a ride on his bike. The first time you turned him down. Then he tracked down where you lived and showed up at your door, offering a ride to your work.

You should have seen a red flag then. But you were too stupid and infatuated by him enough to think it was romantic.

As time went on, he took you to Vandals meetings more and more often. And it was fun. Until you had to bail him out of arrest, pick him up from the hospital, and wait forever for him at home, wondering if he'd be sleeping next to you in bed or at the police station.

And one day, when he ended up in the hospital after some guys beat him up for wearing Vandal's colours, you broke. You begged him to stop while he was still alive and well (which was doubtful considering the doctors were still debating whether to cut off his foot); you literally knelt by his bed and cried like a baby while all he cared about was whether he could keep riding.

But that wasn't the worst. The worst was that every time you argued, he threatened to leave, to disappear, that it would be best for you if he left you alone. And at first you begged him, terrified, to stay, but over time you started to react to those words... more aggressively.

Then you decided you were fed up with living with the wandering cat he was and broke up with him. Roughly. Stormily. Your neighbours heard more than one of your arguments, and the whole street saw you throwing his stuff out the window and finally throwing rocks at him as he rode away on his beloved Harley. On second thought, maybe you were both two big damn red carpets.

"I don't want to know. Will you take me home? The last thing I want today is to meet that son of a bitch."

You sigh, dragging the papers to your desk. You grab your black blazer and throw it on over your white shirt. You adjust your black pencil skirt and grab your purse to follow your friend.

You took the job as a secretary right after breaking up with Benny. You quit your old job not wanting him to know where you worked, but apparently Vandal had his ways. You wonder if choosing another job wasn't a slap in the face for Benny. Choosing such a boring and ordinary job would piss him off even more and prove that you really aren't made for each other.

Just like Benny, you could be hellishly mean.

"What the hell?" Your friend asks as you exit out the back and her car isn't in the parking lot. But there is another Vandal with his motorcycle.

"Johnny." You greet him and walk over to him, crossing your arms. Your friend is hot on your heels. "What are you doing here?"

"Kiddo said you two have a problem in your relationship."

"We don't have any relationship, so there is no problem between us. But apparently, my friend lost her car. Can you help her?" You ask him, furious with Benny for not acknowledging your breakup.

"Y/N... you know that I don't like to get involved in the shit that's not mine, but this kid has been going crazy for a month now. He's been doing even worse shitty things than before, and I can't tell you how many times we've picked him up from jail in the past few fucking weeks. If you ever cared about him, talk to him. He's becoming wildly unpredictable. Even for me."

You bite your lip at his words. You know perfectly well what Benny is like, or rather what he was like before he met you. Thanks to you, he stopped riding so fast and carefree, ended up in the hospital much less often, and even obeyed the speed limit when you were with him on his bike.

You can only imagine what he's been up to in your absence and to what extent, since Johnny took an interest and came to you to talk about it.

"Don't manipulate me, Johnny. You know damn well he deserved it. Now you know what I had to deal with throughout this whole fucking relationship." You reply dryly, not wanting to fall for the Vandals' sweet words again.

You loved them like family, but sometimes you have to cut yourself off from them to save your sanity. And you desperately needed some time to yourself and a break from all of Benny's antics.

"Well... I know Benny isn't easy, but he really is a good kid. Carrot and stick. That's what he needs. And for the sake of your lady-buddy's car and your friendship... maybe you should go and have a few words with him."

"Screw you." You growl, rolling your eyes, and walk away from them. "What are you waiting for?! Take her to this fucking car!" You shout, walking back to the main building to exit through the main entrance.

Johnny puts your friend on his bike, and all you can do is give her an apologetic look as he takes her to where they moved her car. You don't even want to know how they did it.

You sigh as you walk through the office and stand in front of the main exit doors. You glance at your watch and walk out of the building with your heart in your mouth.

You walk down the sidewalk with the other people from work who have just left. Benny's blue irises land on you immediately. He straightens up, stopping leaning against your car and throwing away a cigarette he was smoking. He looks at you expectantly. You nod at him and pretend to walk in his direction.

You cross the street on the crosswalk, but instead of turning right towards the parking lot, you run as hard as you can to the left towards the bus stop.

"Y/N!" Benny shouts after you, and a moment later, you hear the thud of his combat boots against the pavement as he runs after you.

The bus pulls up to the stop, and you run inside. Luckily, the driver closes the doors before Benny can get to them. He bangs on the glass, shouting your name and some curse words, but you can't hear him clearly as the bus starts moving.

You breathe a sigh of relief and wipe your sweaty forehead. This time you did it. You just hoped your friend would get her car back before Benny went to Johnny and complained to him that you ran away.

But for now, you're happy that you managed to outsmart your ex.

The next morning you cautiously peer out from behind your front door, searching for a head of blonde hair. Even though you couldn't see any Vandal's motorcycle through the window, you wanted to be sure that none would suddenly pop out from nowhere.

You sigh with relief, not seeing anything suspicious.

You open the door wider, but something is blocking you. On your way out, you notice a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers. You pick it up and examine it carefully, but you don't see any note or card. But you do see a necklace.

The flowers are tied with a fucking necklace. The necklace Benny gave you at the beginning of your relationship with his initials carved into the back of the silver heart. (One of the guys worked at a jeweler's and did it for him for practically free through a connection or something.) The necklace you threw in his face when you broke up with him.

Furious, you want to throw the flowers in the trash. Instead, you decide to put the necklace in your pocket and walk to work. On the way, you pass a school and hand the bouquet to the first girl you see. At least she was happy because of those damn flowers.

As you continue your walk, you see a motorcyclist in the distance. You tense up and quicken your pace, praying that it's not a Vandal, but apparently you're out of luck today.

"Y/N?! How long have we not seen each other?!" Danny screams as he rides to you. You sigh as his bike blocks the entire sidewalk and force a smile.

"Probably ages ago. How you doing?"

"Great. Can I give you a ride somewhere? Where's Benny? Shouldn't he be the one hauling your ass to work?" He asks, already taking out a helmet for you. You reluctantly accept it and climb behind him on the bike.

"We broke up." You inform him, knowing full well that he's been away from the Vandals lately due to studies and his photography stuff.

"Oh shit. He must be devastated then." He comments and starts the engine. You hold on to him as he drives you to the address you gave him.

The drive takes a few minutes. Luckily, your car is still parked outside the building, and you don't see any parked bikes.

"Thanks. Danny? Can you give this to Benny? You probably will see him sooner than me." You say and hand him the necklace. He nods and drives away, leaving you alone.

You approach your car and curse, seeing the lock placed on the wheel. Not a police lock. A lock that the Vandals often put on and took off in exchange for small money. A small tag was attached to it. It had the date and time written on it—probably their next meeting that they wanted you to join in exchange for taking the damn thing off your car.

"Bad day?"

You flinch and turn around, surprised by someone's presence. You sigh with relief when you see only Mike—an accountant from the company you worked for.

"Bad week. Plus, it looks like I'm grounded." You say and kick your leg against the wheel of your car.

"Yeah, I recognise that. My friend had to pay them like $100 to get that damn thing off. He was rushing to some meeting and couldn't wait for the police and similar stuff. I can get someone to take it off for you."

"I'm afraid I don't have enough money." You sigh, mentally preparing yourself for a weekend with the Vandals. In Benny's company. Talking to him. You already feel sick.

"For free. Friend of mine owns me a little favour."

"Seriously?" You ask, shocked. He nervously rubs the back of his neck with his hands and nods, giving you an uncertain smile.

"Yeah, no problem. And before he will do it... do you mind if we both go to lunch? I mean... you don't have to if you don't want to..."

"You know... I would actually like that." You interrupt him with a smirk, seeing him stuttering, unable to finish his sentence as he blushes.

"Really?" You almost giggle at his incredulous question and the gleam of happiness in his eyes. You nod with a huge, genuine smile, practically forgetting why you agreed to this date in the first place. "So... in four hours at the exit?"

"I will be waiting." With a smile, you leave him behind and enter the office. Maybe this day wasn't such a tragedy after all...

Benny was drinking beer with Johnny and Danny at a table in their favourite bar. The Vandals were circling him like vultures, just waiting for a little sensation and gossiping about his breakup with you.

"It must be hard for you, man. We all saw how much you loved her. Like a Catholic loves a goddamn God."

"Too bad she can't see it." Benny mumbles, lighting a cigarette. His one hand plays with the necklace he left on your doorstep this morning, which you gave to Denny. Benny gave you his fucking heart, and you still rejected it. He had to try harder. He had to talk to you first.

"Hey Benny-boy? How are you? Are you still getting over your breakup with your girlfriend? Do you love her that much? Come on, come with us. We'll race to the brothel, and you'll forget about this bitch in a second." Some Vandal walks up to him and pats him on the back.

"Benny no..." Johnny is interrupted by the crash of Vandal's jaw as Benny's fist hits him.

A second later, a beer bottle shatters over the head of a bleeding man on the floor, and Johnny and Danny try to pull him away from the guy. The entire club boos and cheers for the fight, but the guys quickly drag Benny outside.

"What the hell?! You can love her, but damn, don't be such a girl and react at each shitty comment!" Johnny yells at him and hits him in the chest with his hands. Benny huffs indignantly and puts his hands in his pockets to stop himself from hitting him.

"I hate her!" He growls furiously and plays with the necklace in his pants' pocket.

"And love her just the same, huh?" Danny asks and gives Benny a cigarette.

Benny doesn't answer. He smokes furiously, trying to clear his head, but all he can think about is you. Your scent, your taste, the softness of your body, the shudder of your breath beneath him, the way you clenched your hands around his shirt across his stomach when you rode with him on his bike, the way you pressed yourself against him and snuggled up to him every chance you got... fuck, he missed you. More than he previously thought he would be.

"Benny?! I saw your girl with some man in a suit! At that one of those Italian restaurants on the corner of Main Street. You know, the shitty one for rich people. You should do something about this." One of the bikers rides up and informs him, then rides away before Benny can say anything.

"Kid, don't…" Johnny tries to stop him, but Benny is already on his motorcycle. He starts it and rides as fast as he can, ignoring the shouts behind him.

All Benny could think about was how he was going to beat up the guy who dared to touch you. You were his girlfriend. You were one of the Vandals. You might have been on a break, but that didn't give any man the right to hit on you. Not when you had Benny and Benny had you.

It was simple logic. Nobody messes with the Vandals and their girls.

Benny sped through the city, not stopping at red lights. It wasn't until he was at a restaurant that he stopped his Harley.

He didn't turn off the engine, though. He was staring intently through the restaurant windows and checking out each customer until his eyes landed on you and some shit in a suit who had the nerve to get your attention.

Benny tugged on the handle, causing his bike's engine to roar furiously—like a guard dog giving a warning before it attacks. He increased the engine's roar until your eyes met his.

A cold shiver ran through him as you threw him one of your angry looks, and he felt hurt when you ignored him and continued to talk with the man sitting in front of you and gave him one of your most wonderful smiles. Fuck it. The guy wouldn't be able to walk when Benny got to him.

Benny reaches into his pocket, pulls out a pack of Marlboro, and lights his cigarette. He holds it to his mouth with one hand while the other continues to crank the handle of the engine, so that the roar of the engine drowns out any conversation you might have had with the man in front of you.

He smirks as you and the guy in front of you stare in his direction. He holds a cigarette between his plush lips and waves at you, causing an irritated frown to form on your forehead.

Benny can't help but feel a strange bile rising in his throat as he looks at the two of you. You were on a date with a guy who was clearly the opposite of Benny. He wonders if this is what you really want—a boring guy with a boring job and a tonne of money who could build you a house with a fucking white picket fence and drive you to work in his Cooper car and the kids to preschool. It makes him sick to think that you could be anyone else, that you could have anyone else's children, that you could be married to some guy in a suit and live the life of a fucking decent 1950s shitty family.

Benny knew perfectly well that he couldn't give you what this guy could provide you. He couldn't even afford a date at a restaurant like that.

However, it didn't change the fact that he loved you so damn much.

"Hey! Biker dude, leave Y/N alone!" A guy in a suit comes out of the restaurant and yells at him. Benny calmly finishes his cigarette and throws it on the ground, staring silently at the man in front of him. "Did you hear me, degenerate? Get out of here!" The guy pushes him, hitting his chest. For Benny, that's enough.

He lands the first punch with his right fist, landing perfectly on his opponent's cheek. The next punch sends blood pouring from the man's nose onto his snow-white shirt. But for Benny, it's not enough.

He throws the guy to the ground, and the two begin to fight in earnest. Benny, however, has a much greater advantage and motivation as he takes out all his anger on the guy below him. He only snaps out of this strange trance when someone's hands pull him away from the bleeding man below him.

"What the fuck was that, Benny?! You almost killed him!" You yell at him angrily, pulling your hands away from him as quickly as you can. Benny says nothing, staring at you silently as he processes what he just did. Several other motorcycles pull up in front of the restaurant, with Johnny in the lead.

"Let's go, kid! Before the police arrive."

Benny stares at you, not quite wanting to leave before he explains why he beat up your date. But he stops himself the moment he sees the fear and disgust in your eyes. It hurts Benny more than any punch he could have taken. He clenches his jaw and walks to his bike. He starts the engine and gives you one last long look, then lowers his head in shame as he joins the other Vandals.

Your hair flutters in the wind as you watch the Vandals drive away. You run over to Mike and wait with him until the ambulance arrives. But you don't follow him to the hospital. You have more important things to take care of in the city.

With trembling hands, you knock on the door. You wait patiently outside, considering the pros and cons, but before you can chicken out and leave, Betty opens the door for you.

"Y/N? This is quite a surprise."

"Can I come in? I need to talk to you." The woman makes room for you and lets you in. You greet her and Johnny's daughters, who are watching a cartoon on TV, and you go with her to the kitchen, where you can talk in peace. "It's about Benny."

"I expected it. You know, we were all very surprised when you broke up. We were convinced that a week longer and the boy would start looking for an engagement ring for you."

"Benny and marriage? Not in this lifetime, I guess." You scoff and sit down at the small kitchen island with a smile, thanking her for the coffee she made you. "He fucking almost beat my date to death today. He's acting crazy. Johnny tells me he's been like this since I broke up with him, but we both know he was like this long before we even met. What the hell am I supposed to do, Betty? Get out of town? Out of America? Vandals have expanded all over the states, and most of them aren't the same old club they used to be."

"I know. Believe me, I know best." Silence falls between you after her words. You nod, understanding perfectly that she of you had the most right to worry. You sigh, running your hand through your hair. "Y/N... I'll give you some advice. If you don't care about him that much... if you think you can forget and move on, then save yourself. Run away wherever you want, as far away from him as possible, and forget. But if you can't... then stay and talk some sense into him before it's too late to save him."

"Save him? You know perfectly well he won't abandon the Vandals."

"Like you said, they're not the same Vandals they used to be. They've changed. Johnny sees it. Benny sees it. And they both still fool themselves, but when some shit happens, it finally gets to them. And believe me, Benny loves his bike and freedom, but the Vandals aren't his family anymore. You are." You fall silent at her words, processing everything she said. You nod and sigh, taking a cigarette out of the pack in your pocket. "We smoke outside." She admonishes you. You laugh quietly and raise your hands in surrender.

"All right. Thanks for everything, Betty." You sigh as you leave the house. You light a cigarette and walk across town to the Vandals' bar. You have to finish everything you had to finish with Benny. You couldn't just leave town without a word. There's no telling what the Vandal would do if you suddenly disappeared.

You throw your cigarette into the bin and take a few calming breaths as you approach the biker's bar. Their engines are already roaring, and some of them, probably the young and new ones, eye you warily as you enter.

You look around the bar and frown, unable to find Benny. You walk further in, pushing through the sea of people and sitting at the head table where Johnny sits with his most important men.

"Hello there. Where is Benny?" You ask them, taking the beer from Johnny. The man raises an eyebrow at you and watches as you take a sip.

"I thought you didn't want to talk to him?"

"I have to. I'm leaving town soon. I'd rather tell that to that ticking bomb." Johnny nods, fully realising what you mean. You see Cockroach get up from the table and go to the phone. You try to listen in on the conversation, but Johnny effectively talks you over and drowns out any conversation the man was having at the bar.

"When are you coming back?" He asks, but you don't answer. You take a sip of beer and tap your finger on the neck of the bottle. "I see. The kid won't be happy, you know that?"

"We are no longer together." You snap back, trying your best to maintain your relatively indifferent attitude. "Besides, after the shit he did today, he only proved that I can't stay here anymore."

"He went for a ride. He'll probably be at the lake. Or on the streets breaking a few traffic laws. You know him."

"Too well." You nod and stand up from the table. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Cockroach exit the bar and get on his bike. You frown and shake your head. They're not your problem anymore. "Tell him I'm looking for him. When you will see him."

"Sure." He agrees and nods. You nod back and turn to leave the bar. You scan the place one last time, knowing full well that you'll probably never set foot in it again.

Your heart clenches as you remember all the times you spent here. Both the good and the bad. Shortly after you broke up with Benny, you cursed this building. You'd rather see it burn down, along with all the Vandals that reminded you of what you'd lost.

You try to hold back the tears that are welling up in your eyes as you involuntarily recall your first meeting with Benny. The pool table is still in the same spot. How easy it would have been for you not to have looked that damned way and not fallen for the charm of those blue irises and the exposed muscles of his arms. How much disappointment and heartbreak you would have avoided if you had never entered that bar. And as much as you despised and hated that place, you loved it and the people in it for a long time and fiercely. And one of them in particular.

But how much more tragedy and sadness could you endure? How long could you live in fear and uncertainty in a relationship that was supposed to bring you only happiness and those good thrills?

Benny wanted to be free. So you will give him that freedom.

"Y/N!" Johnny calls after you before you leave. You sigh and turn to him, raising a questioning eyebrow. "Take care of yourself."

"You too." You nod at him and leave the bar.

You leave everything behind. And you feel like a piece of you is dying in the flames of time and the cry of your tormented heart..

Surprisingly, it doesn't take you long to pack. Nor does it take you long to get off work. Two days later, you're standing in the hallway of your house, ready to hand over the keys to your cousin, who's supposed to be selling it.

You stare at the picture Danny took of you and Benny when you were sitting at one of the biker picnics. Benny and you were leaning against his bike. He had his arm over your shoulder and was staring at you with loving puppy eyes while you smiled at the camera.

You sigh, putting the photo into your wallet and impatiently waiting for your cousin.

Just then, there's a knock on your door. You sigh and open it. You freeze, completely shocked, when you see Benny there.

"I didn't hear your bike."

"I parked down the street. So you don't get scared and run away." He says, still leaning against your door frame.

"I'm not scared of you." You huff indignantly, looking at the scratches on his face. You frown, not remembering him getting any injuries from Mike.

"I had an accident."

"Of course you had." You snort, crossing your arms over your chest. You see his jaw quiver slightly, but he just continues to stare at you with those stupid blue eyes of his, like you're the only girl in the world. "I'm leaving." You inform him, swallowing hard and waiting for his reaction. He drops his gaze to your hands and nods.

"I can see that." He says, nodding at the large travel backpack behind you.

"I won't come back." You inform him, carefully observing his reaction to it. Of course, he doesn't show anything. His face is stony as he looks at you, and his facial muscles don't even move as he doesn't reveal a single emotion to you.

"You won't come back." He repeats, not moving an inch from his spot by your door. You clench your teeth in irritation, to which he just smiles. And oh, that damn smile of his...

"That's it. You can go. You always said you'd be the one to leave. Too bad I had to be the one with the balls to do it." You say angrily, ready for him to turn around and walk to his bike, but all he does is continue to stare at you. You shake your head and push past him when you see your cousin.

You ignore Benny as you sort out the details with your cousin. You grab your backpack and walk him back to his car. You say goodbye to him and watch the car drive away. As you turn to go to the bus stop, you bump into Benny's chest.

"Sorry. I didn't see you." You say, quickly pulling away from him and trying to suppress your blush after your hands were briefly on his chest. The damn thing still had some well-trained muscles.

"Give you a lift?" He asks you seemingly innocently and puts his hands in his pockets. His gaze burns you, making your blush stay on your cheeks a little longer.

"Where are you going?" You ask as you both walk in the same direction. You don't feel like going with him, but you're not going to tell him that yet. You know he'll think of anything to make you get on that fucking bike with him.

"Florida." At those words, you freeze and stand still. You swallow and look at him for a long moment as you remember how you once begged him to go to his cousin in Florida and start a new life there. Then he chose his bike. And you chose yourself.

"To your cousin?" You ask carefully, resuming your walk.

"He hired me at his car workshop." Benny nods, walking glued to your side with his hands clasped behind him.

You feel strangely at ease talking to him. You're out of the habit of it. Of having him so close to you, of feeling the warmth of his body close to yours, of his intoxicating scent, of having his hypnotising irises focused on you and of listening to that raspy voice of his.

You missed him.

"You will have a job?" You ask, shocked. You can't imagine a free spirit like Benny finding a permanent job with set hours. "Well... that's good for you. I guess." You comment as you both walk. Suddenly he steps in front of you and stops. You sigh when you see his bike parked exactly two steps away from you. Fuck, you let that son of a bitch lead you to his bike.

"Are you getting in?" He asks, nodding at his bike. And as much as you want to say yes, you know it'll be bad for both you and him.

You shouldn't be together. Or at least you didn't think so. Even though you loved him so damn much.

"I will buy a train ticket." You politely decline his offer. You expect him to nod silently, get on your bike, and ride off into the sunset forever, but he still stands firmly in front of you, blocking your path.

"Where to?" He asks and looks at you suspiciously, as if he knew perfectly well that you didn't know where you were going yet. You only knew that it was definitely far from Benny.

"You don't need to know." You growl stubbornly, trying to get past him and finally move on.

But Benny won't let you. Before you can register any movement, he moves quickly and takes your hands. He wraps them tightly around his waist, and suddenly you hear a metallic click and something cold and heavy being placed on your forearms. Handcuffs. Bloody handcuffs.

"Benny!!" You growl at him angrily and struggle as he walks towards his bike. "Where the hell did you get handcuffs from?"

"Cockroach." He answers shortly and sits down, making you have to follow his lead. He fucking kidnaps you.

"Benny... let me go!" You scream, trying to punch him in the stomach, but the handcuffs are so short and far enough away from your wrists that all you can do is hold on tight as he prepares to ride.

"Even if it's handcuffed, I'm leaving here with you." He tells you calmly, and you stare at him in disbelief. What the fuck?

"Don't joke! Benny!" Either he ignores your screams (which is most likely) or he doesn't hear them because at that very moment he starts the engine of his Harley.

So all you can do is sit behind him, holding on tight as he drives who knows where. Amazingly, he stops at red lights and doesn't go over the speed limit. It's only when he gets to the highway that he drives a little faster than the speed limit, but not enough to be considered dangerous driving.

You rest your cheek against his back in defeat as you realise there is absolutely no way out of this. Not if you want to stay alive. You can feel him relax a little as he rides forward, and you are not trying to fight with him. You sigh, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to rest behind him for a moment, revelling in the feeling of freedom as you whizzed through the air on his bike.

Fuck, you missed it.

The only break you get is a stop at a motel when the fuel runs out and the cold night starts to set in. Benny rents you a room (which is surprising because you were always the one paying) at the motel and leaves you there while he goes to fill up his Harley.

You think about escaping, but:

1. Benny took away the keys and locked you up there.

2. He made sure to rent a room on the highest floor of this damn building.

3. You were too tired and hungry after the ride to come up with some plan.

That's why you lay on the bed and wait for him to come back. Hopefully with food. It would be nice to eat something before you will kill him.

As if on cue, the keys turn in the door, and Benny steps inside. In his hand he has a large paper bag, which he places on the bed opposite you in an apologetic gesture of sacrifice for his sins. He can go to hell. Him and his damn puppy eyes.

"What is it?"

"Burgers. Took it for you. Your favourite." He says and makes sure he's locked the door. He puts the key in the keyhole and goes to the window.

He looks at his bike and takes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He lights one and looks outside, not sparing you a single glance.

"Where's your jacket?" You ask, seeing as he's not wearing his Vandals' colours. It was weird seeing him in just a T-shirt.

"On a bike in the trunk. I don't know if they'd let me here wearing that."

"You never took it off." You say shocked and raise your eyebrows at him. "You will be cold without it." You notice and take the food out of the bag. You don't eat yet, wondering if you should leave him some, if he even ate anything before he came here.

"I was cold without you." He answers quickly without even thinking much about what he's saying. You see his cheeks redden slightly as he realises he said it out loud. "Eat." He clears his throat and takes a drag on his cigarette. You sigh and start eating. You hum, savouring the delicious food, and you swear you hear him chuckle quietly from his spot by the window. Big bastard.

"Where we going?" You ask him before biting into your burger. You frown as grease leaks onto your fingers. You lick them, unconsciously teasing Benny as he... imagines what your lips wrapped around just as perfectly as they now were wrapped around your fingers. He clears his throat, seeing that you’ve caught him staring at you.

"Florida. I want to show you something." You eat in silence, wondering what he wants to show you that makes him literally chain you to himself and drag you out of town.

"And then?" You can't stand it anymore and finally ask, curious about his future plans and how long he actually wants to keep you with him.

"And then you will decide."

"Decide what? Do I want the fur handcuffs or the regular metal ones?" You snap at him, irritated.

Your sharp mockery makes him throw his cigarette out the window, and his gaze lingers there, as if he were ashamed of what he had done. On the other hand, you didn't give him much of an exit or opportunity to talk normally. You wanted to leave—just like he had promised so many times that he would do. So why did he stubbornly want to keep you if he had never cared?

Benny wasn't one for words. He was sparing with his thoughts and emotions. And for a while, his actions spoke loud enough of his devotion to you. For a while. Then your honeymoon phase wore off, and you were annoyed that he never verbally confirmed to you what his eyes had told you so many times as he held you close by the fire at night at one of the Vandals meetings.

On this particular night, some famous actress that the guys were crazy about was coming to town. Half of them got on their bikes halfway through the party and wanted Benny to join them in hunting her down and taking a picture with her. They even bribed Danny to go with them and take their stupid pictures.

"Come on, Benny. You're not coming with us? I remember you were the one who hung her poster in the club so you could get a good view of her from the pool table." One of the guys was convincing Benny, who was currently lying on the grass and resting his head on your lap, practically forcing you to comb your hands through his blonde locks.

"I have a much better view here!" He shouts at them, not even turning his head in their direction. His blue eyes never leave your face. You blush a little, ducking your head and closing your eyes as you try to ignore the whistles and teasing from the boys at his response.

A moment later, Benny props himself up on his elbows and steals the most delightful, mind-numbing kiss. You cup his cheek in your hand and let yourself sink into the feeling of his soft lips against yours, letting out a quiet sigh when he tangles his hand in your hair and presses you against the trunk of the tree behind you. You ignore the cheering Vandals put on and completely immerse yourself in your little bubble with Benny.

Everyone had their poison. For Benny, it was cigarettes and his Harley. For you, it was him. And back then it didn't bother you one bit.

"I... if you want to go you can. I won't stop you." Benny mumbles under his breath, pulling you from your thoughts. You shake your head, snorting, and set the bag of food on the nightstand next to your bed.

"Thank you so much that you provide me with my basic human rights!" You growl at him angrily, reminding him about those stupid handcuffs.

"You didn't even want to give me a chance to explain myself to you. And you know perfectly well that I never ask for anything or expect anything in return. I... I didn't see any other way to get to you. And I'm not going to apologise for that."

You roll your eyes at him, irritated. But you can't say you don't see the reasoning behind his actions. But the prospect of being dragged around by him deeply offends your innate feminism.

Seeing that you have nothing to add to the matter, he closes the window. He walks over to you and grabs the blanket off the bed. You frown as he sits down in the armchair, clearly intending to sleep there. And you don't like the fact that even though you had him in the same room, you won't be able to have his arms wrapped around you. Especially since it's so damn cold in this motel.

"Come here. You will get sick by sitting near this window. It is cold outside, and they don't even heat the room." You grumble and make room for him on the bed, hoping that you don't have to tell him the real reason you want him next to you to get him in the same bed with you.

"I will be fine." He speaks carelessly and reaches into his pocket for another cigarette.

"Benjamin Cross." You growl at him, which finally gets his full attention. "Get your fucking ass here." Benny rolls his eyes but obediently stands up. He takes off his shoes and lies down next to you in bed.

He covers you with an extra blanket and leaves an absurd amount of space between you that you honestly hate. But you won't make the first move and throw yourself into his arms. Not after he kidnapped you. But... could it really be considered kidnapping if you partly wanted it and you didn't really have anywhere else to be?

You sigh, tossing and turning in your bed as you try to find a slightly comfortable sleeping position. But it's impossible to fall asleep with Benny so close to you when you are not even able to touch him. Especially when his warmth and scent reach you, assaulting you and every ounce of restraint and self-control you had.

"What's the matter with you?" Benny asks as you toss and turn in frustration once again.

"Nothing."

Benny knows that tone. All too well. So he hesitantly moves closer to you and experimentally places a hand on your waist. When you don't push away from him, he gently pulls you toward him and tightens his hold, pressing his chest against your back. You sigh and press your lips to his forearm, rubbing your nose against the tattooed skin.

Benny doesn't comment on that. That's something you like about him. That even when you do completely absurd things, he doesn't comment on it, doesn't deny it, just stands by you in silence. Just like now.

You take his hand in yours and squeeze it so hard that his rings dig into it. But you don't care. It's nice to finally have him this close.

Benny rests his chin on your shoulder and runs his nose against your temple. His beard gently tickles you, but you do nothing about it. It's been a long time since you've had this feeling of him close to you. You turn in his arms and snuggle into him.

Benny gently strokes your back with his hand, holding you close to him without a word as you revel in his scent. For a moment you forget why you should be mad at him and stay as far away from him as possible. So when his lips fall to your forehead and he presses a long kiss there, you grab his chin and steal the kiss from him.

His full, plump lips feel wonderful against yours and caress you nicely. You moan when you can finally taste his lips on yours again, and you remember how much you've missed this feeling. His hand roams over you, and you let him touch you wherever he wants. Benny, on the other hand, is confused. One moment you're yelling at him and you're angry, and the next you want him close to you and you kiss him like there's no tomorrow. It's a nice change. But Benny is afraid of how long it will last. Of how much longer will you want him? And will you want to leave again?

For now, he had you back in his arms. And he wanted to savour that feeling. And he will give you a goddamn reason to stay.

He cups your cheek in his hand and deepens the kiss. His tongue explores your mouth again, as if learning you all over again, before wrapping his tongue around yours. You sigh as his hand slides teasingly from your cheek, down your neck, over the valley of your breasts, and to the hem of your jeans.

"Benny..." You sigh as his cold fingers touch the skin of your stomach after he unbuttons your jeans TOO slowly.

"Do you want me to stop?" Benny almost chuckles at how fast and furious your head is shaking. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your bottom lip bitten in a desperate attempt to keep from making any sound as he gently brushes his fingers over your folds. The motel walls were thin after all. "Open your eyes for me, my little rascal, and say the words. After this, there will be no turning back."

You don't even think about turning back. You don't think about leaving him. You only think about how wonderful it is to have him by your side again, how wonderful his hands feel on you, and how much you want to kiss his stupid mouth until you both have enough breath. And that's exactly what you do.

With that form of agreement from you, his fingers gently delve into your folds, exploring previously familiar territory and teasing you unintentionally as he tries to appreciate every little second he has with you.

Sex with Benny was like that. Unique, intense, a long marathon. Because, as he said, you never know when it's the last time. Although you always prayed that it would never be the last time and that he and you will both live to experience another of your hot sessions.

For now, God listened to a sinner like you...

You almost scream as he digs his long fingers into you up to his knuckles. His rings rub against the entrance of your cunt, the even colder than his fingers metal is making you shiver. Benny kisses and nibbles your neck, leaving a trail of hickies from your lips to your collarbone.

His fingers slide in and out, pushing against that sweet spot inside you that makes you scream his name. His rings push through and enter your vagina, and you can see them glistening with your arousal. And it's fucking hot. As hot as Benny's hard manhood pressing against your thigh.

You dig your nails into his neck and moan into his ear as his thumbs is pressing your swollen clit, working with all his might to bring you to the edge of your orgasm.

You bite your lip, trying to muffle your moans and cries of pleasure so everyone in the motel doesn't hear you, but Benny won't have any of that. He kisses you hungrily and pulls his hand away from you completely. You gasp, lifting your hips and seeking his hand, but he doesn't resume his ministrations until a soft moan escapes your kiss-swollen lips.

"Such a good little desprate girl for me. You take my fingers so damn well now, wrapping your tight unused walls around them, and before when you were scandalously empty, you were a nasty little brat. I shouldn't reward you for running away from me, you know, my sweetest?" He mumbles in your ear with his hoarse voice, still refusing you the touch of his sinfully long fingers.

The tears in your eyes fall freely onto the pillow as you try to gather the last remnants of logical thought to somehow prove yourself to him, because you know you won't come if you just grind against him desperately in the hopes that he'll finally give you more.

"Please Benny… I… oh… I won't leave… I won't leave.."

You tangle your hand in his hair and tug on it, to which he lets out a soft growl from his plump lips. In punishment, he gently nips your collarbone, adding another hickey to the collection, as he thankfully pushes his fingers deep into your velvety wet and eager walls again and tries to bring you immense pleasure.

And it doesn't take him very long. A few thrusts of his fingers, kisses scattered across your neck, collarbone, and cleavage, and you're falling apart beneath him. Your brain is a useless mush as you come from the mere ministrations of his fingers and the dirty words he whispers in your ear. You're drunk on Benny, on the feel of his fingers inside you, his weight on you, and the burning marks his lips leave on your skin.

You lick your lips in anticipation for him to strip down so you can get to the main part, but he just flops onto his side next to you, ignoring the obvious hard soreness in his pants, and wraps his arms around you tightly, pulling you against his chest.

"I missed it." He whispers, kissing your knuckles. You feel his grip on your hand tighten, but he doesn’t move to taste you on his fingers. He simply places your joined hands on his chest, his other hand wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer.

You know this is the closest you'll get to an admission of guilt and an apology from him. So you accept it and gently snuggle into him.

"Good night, Benny." You whisper into his neck. He shivers.

Goosebumps appear on the skin of his neck, but he doesn't move. You just lie there, cuddled up to each other, and he presses a long kiss to the top of your head. You feel fulfilled, satisfied, happy,

He lies under you politely, ignoring his discomfort, and you know that this is some kind of sick punishment for himself. Yet you do nothing to stop it. He has to realise that he can't just take you on his bike and take you to hell knows where. He needs to realise that he can't be such a free spirit anymore if he really wants you. That he can't keep doing the shit he did with the Vandals.

Even if you're happy with how things turned out after he dargged you out of the town.

And when the next day he takes you to Florida and shows you the old family home that he inherited from his deceased father and says that he would love to burn this place down in the past, but now he wants to keep it and renovate it for you if you agree to stay with him as his wife, you know you can't stay mad at him forever. Especially not after he slides one of his rings off his finger and places it securely on yours in a silent promise and understanding between you.

You whether gonna be his wife or gonna smash up his bike, (you haven't decided yet) but in the end you gonna finally make him yours and only yours.

After all, he didn't get you back just for you to leave him again. You will stay with each other until the very end. Even if it would destroy you.

[sweetbans29]

Support - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You are an advocate for Caitlin's W transition (based on THIS request)

Warnings: fluff

Word Count: 5.1k

Sweetban Masterlist

AN: The request was very specific and I am going to be honest, I did not follow it to a T but I hope you enjoy!

"Hey CC, you better hurry up the game is starting," Jada yells from the couch. Caitlin taps the microwave in hopes that will speed up the popcorn. It doesn't.

Cait hurridly puts the chocolate chip cookies on a plate, cursing as she keeps burning her hand on the cookie sheet that she just pulled from the oven. She places the last cookie on the plate, grabs the popcorn bag, and scurries to the living room with the other girls.

The team had just finished a summer training session and booked it back to Caitlin's place to watch the game. It was one they all had been talking about for weeks.

"You know one of you could have helped me," Caitlin says passing the popcorn to Jada and placing the plate of cookies on the table. A swarm of hands comes to grab them, leaving 2 on the plate.

"You didn't ask," Jada says like it was a fact, and Caitlin rolls her eyes.

"Sorry, we'll help next time," Kate says as she finishes her cookie.

"Yeah, whatever," Caitlin says as the game tips off.

"CC, my popcorn is burnt," Jada whines as she tries to pick through the burnt pieces.

Caitlin doesn't respond, her eyes glued to the screen as you make your first appearance in 11 months.

You were the first pick in the 2021 draft, there was no question about it. You had led your team to two championships, back to back. There wasn't much left you felt you needed to do at a college level and declared for the draft. The NY Liberty getting first overall pick made the decision a no-brainer.

When you were drafted, you were in the best physical shape of your life. Tired, yes, but more ready than you have ever been for the jump to the W. Getting to NY and starting in training camp confirmed even more that this was the right decision for you. When games started, you realized that the transition was way more than you had expected. The physicality yes, but the mental transition was even harder. You went from a near-perfect season your senior year to losing what felt like every other game.

You were only 7 games into the season when the worst happened. It was during an away game in Minnesota when you went down and you went down hard. The pop in your left knee was something you were trying hard to ignore but the scream you let out was anything but ignorable. When it happened the whole arena went silent as you made your way off the court - only accepting help when you got to the tunnel. After a few scans, you learned you had torn your ACL, officially taking you out of your rookie season.

Caitlin remembers watching the game when it happened. If Cait were honest, she had been watching your game since you entered college. She watched your freshman year as your game immediately translated into a college setting. She watched as they built a team around you your sophomore year, already anticipating playing you when she becomes a Hawkeye. Then your senior year, her freshman year, when your team knocked out hers in the Sweet Sixteen.

It was in Caitlin's freshman year when you had been posted up against her - playing elite defense and causing Cait to have the single worst game in her college career thus far. She went back and reviewed the tape multiple times to see what had caused her to become so shaken. As she watches it, she realizes several things.

First off, you put your head down and do the work. She rarely sees you arguing with the refs when a call doesn't go your way. She actually finds it comical how your teammates go up questioning the ref or trying to explain how what her team did was a foul and you just jogged to the other end of the court.

Second, she noticed how calm you were while playing. You handled the ball like you were playing a pick-up game with some friends. It was mesmerizing to Caitlin. So often she felt like she played all over the place, and if she were to watch herself it was obvious, but when she watched you - you never once seemed jarred.

Third, your vision is similar to hers. She can only assume you see what she sees. Your vision on the court and IQ for the game is one that she hopes to continue working at. As Cait watches you scout out the floor, you don't always go with what she would expect or do herself. It was almost like a game of chess to you. If you saw the defense react a certain way, you would adjust and get them thinking you were going one way when really you would get everyone to shift, waiting until the last second to show your hand. That is what got under Caitlin's skin during the game. It was almost as if you were baiting her and were playing a head game with her. It was most obvious when you were on defense and were able to pick apart her offensive strategy. It was almost like you knew what Caitlin was going to do before she knew it.

The last thing she noticed had nothing to do with the game, and she almost missed it the first four times she watched the tape, but it was the way she caught herself looking at you. Caitlin throughout the whole game was stealing glances of you. She thinks back to the game and feels herself start to blush. She remembers how your cheeks would tint red and how you stood there with your hands on your hips when something was taking too long. She remembers how your team would gravitate to you because she also wanted to. She remembers how after playing a whole game, when you were giving high-fives, you looked over and smiled at her - your eyes looking directly into hers until she finally broke the contact. She realized that not only was she swayed by your game but she took a particularly deep liking to you.

As Caitlin sits with her team watching your first game back, yes she is watching you because it is your comeback game but also because since she has realized she has taken a particular liking to you, she wants to watch you nonstop.

You take the court and isn't the game you want as your first one back but you are back. You are still figuring out how to move on the court with the adjustment of a weaker knee but know that will come with time. To anyone watching, you looking good as new but you know your game is different - so does Caitlin.

You end the game going 12/4/8 with 2 steals and a block. You aren't super happy but you know you are your biggest critic. You also have to remember this is the first game of the season. After the game, you check your phone to see messages from a handful of people congratulating you, responding to them all with some sort of reaction you open Instagram and scroll. Any time you see anything about you, you scroll right past it.

You stop on a post about the winner of the Dawn Staley Award winner. You see it went, for the second time, to Caitlin Clark - a guard out of Iowa. You wrack your brain and remember playing her in college, she is a solid player. It is tough that she has won the award back to back her freshman and sophomore years. You post the achievement to your story with the caption '1-of-1'. You then click on her profile and give her a follow before locking your phone and heading to the post-presser.

Caitlin gets a notification and immediately stands up. When the game ended, the girls didn't move and kept snacking on whatever was in front of them. Cait is the first one to move.

"Woah, are you okay there?" Kate asks grabbing Caitlin's calf. Kate's sitting right next to Caitlin and lost balance when the girl decided to stand up without any sort of notice.

Caitlin didn't know what to say as she just stared at the notification of you following her. She shows Kate.

"Holy shit, there is no way," Kate says looking at her phone. "That is sick."

The other girls are asking what happened and Kate tells them that you followed Caitlin. Cait sits back down and taps on your story only to see a photo of her. She sits there with a stupid smile on her face. You know who she is. You know who Caitlin is. You posted about her winning an award right after you just took the first dub of the season.

Caitlin tries not to let it get to get head considering you are a pro and she still had two (possibly three) more years in college but that is hard to do when the player she is crushing on now knows who she is.

Time flies when you are having fun. At least that is what Caitlin tells herself as she has just played in her last college game. What a time it has been for her. She brought her team to the championship game twice but fell short both times, never being named with a title. She is now headed to the WNBA draft and will likely go first, making her way to Indiana.

The transition is fast and before she knows it, she is moving in to an apartment in Indianapolis and preparing for training camp. When games begin, she feels like she hasn't received a break in what feels like a year. In reality, it has only been six months but the amount of play she has had both in her senior year and entering the W is overwhelming.

The thing is - Caitlin would never outright say she is overwhelmed, rather just swallow it and keep going. She may not say anything but her body language and eyes tell the story.

You on the other hand have started the season out on fire. Your mindset for this year was redemption. Over the last two years, your game wasn't where you had wanted it to be coming out of college and coming back from a major injury but where you are now is a much better place than you were before. The year you came back from injury, your game was anything but great. You had the worst season you had ever had playing, including the very first year you started with the sport. It was downright embarrassing but that is what drove you to be where you are now. It may have taken longer than anyone had expected but you have arrived.

It is a few games in when you are asked about the rookie guard.

"What are your thoughts on Caitlin Clark? She has been struggling in her transition and many people have been comparing it to your start in the W," one reporter asks. You smile and let out a little chuckle.

"You all love to pick apart a player when they're down, don't you," you begin and your media manager is in the back corner giving you a death stare. When it comes to the media, you have never had a problem calling them out. Unlike you on the court where you just put your head down and play, when it comes to how the media depicts players - well that is something you don't stand for.

"You need to give the girl some space to breathe. I feel like every time I open Twitter it is a huge rookie feast and it's not cool. It is like the world has forgotten they just got done playing their asses off in March and now you expect them to come into a league, freshly adapted to a different game," you say and continue before anyone can cut you off. "It was just a few days ago when I saw something circulating about how these rookies are facing a rude awakening and I laughed. I laugh because people are not looking at the whole picture. Looking at her box score is not a fair assessment of her game. I've been able to catch a few of the Fever games and yes, they have room to grow but all of our teams do. Do you all see the way she is running the floor? Have you looked into how many times she touches the ball? Like, come on, her vision of the game is the same as it was in college - she is now, alongside a team, are both learning how to adapt to play with her. You all may not say she is coming in and dominating but just watch - she will have you all stunned by the Olympic break - use that a headline."

You glance back at your media manager and they have they are rubbing their eyes as their head shakes back and forth. You personally don't think you have said anything out of line but you know you'll get an earful for something. And you do but not as badly as you thought you would.

On the other side of things, Caitlin gets out of a game where she went 8/5/9. She got in her head and stayed there. She gets out of her own post-presser to see a link from Jada.

When Caitlin opens it, she sees you with the headline '[Clark] will have everyone stunned by Olympic break'. Caitlin quickly opens the link and watches you talk. A smile can't help but make its way to her face as you call the media out and speak praises about her.

'Just wait until you see this game, if you see this game', Caitlin thinks as she flinches again at the thought of her efficiency this last game. The link is followed by Jada being Jada.

[Jadaaa: Your girl's got your back, think you can work up the nerve to talk to her when you face off in a few weeks?]

Caitlin knows the younger girl is joking but the feeling that swells in the pit of her stomach thinking about talking to you has her feeling sick.

As much as Caitlin doesn't want to think about you, she does. She can't help it. The last time she faced up against you, you handed her the single worst game she has ever played and in her mind, she wants to show you what she's got.

Little to her knowledge, you were also looking forward to your match-up against the rookie. It has been years since you played against her and look forward to seeing how she has grown. Also, to see how you two match up in the W.

The game finally comes, too slowly in Caitlin's eyes but finally here.

You are the first one on the court. It's not unusual for anyone who knows you but when Caitlin walks out, she stops dead in her tracks. She should have known you would be on the court already but she was so used to being the first one out that it never occurred to her that there would be someone else out there with her.

Caitlin makes her way out and begins to warm up herself. She wants to go over and talk to you but chooses to keep stealing glances. Soon enough, the whole team is out doing a shoot around and the opportunity has passed.

The game is about to begin as the teams take the floor. You go over and hug one of Cait's teammates and high-five the others. When you make your way to Caitlin, everything moves in slow motion for the younger girl.

You come up to her, wrapping one of your arms around her waist. You lean in and whisper something only she can hear.

"Have fun today, it's just you and me on the court - forget about everyone else, and let's have some fun." You tell her.

Caitlin smiles and nods as her cheeks heat up from your closeness. You pat her lower back and get positioned.

The game is a battle.

You play like you have been since the beginning of the season. You hit your double-double in the third quarter and are working towards a triple-double, which would be the second one of the season if you get there.

Cait is also playing better than she has yet and you can even see a little smile come out every now and again.

It is in the fourth when the two of you are standing next to each other during one of your team's free throws.

"Having fun?" You ask.

"Actually, I am," she says, surprising herself with her answer.

"It will get more fun, just wait and see. You're getting there C," you say and she smiles.

"I actually want to tha-" Caitlin begins but is cut short when your teammate knocks down both free throws and the ball is back in the Fever's possession.

The fourth quarter finishes and your team had come out on top by just 2 points. The closest game of the season thus far. It was probably the most fun you had in a game since you got to the W.

In the post-presser, you are asked about the rookie guard again.

"Now that you have faced Caitlin firsthand, what are some challenges you see in her game?" a male reporter asks.

You flat-out laugh at the question.

"You're kidding me, right?" You say and you already see your media manager waving her hands in the air to stop whatever it is you are about to say.

"I am tired of you guys hounding her into the ground. She played a tremendous game today - what was it, another double-double for the rookie? What more does she have to do to show you all she is already dominating in the W? This is midway through her first season playing the sport professionally. She is already doing the damn thing. What you all should be asking is how much more capable is she? If she is doing this in her first year, what will she be doing next year? In 2 years? 5? Like come on, she is already playing better than any of you could so I don't know why we are still talking about what she can't do," you say and stand, tired of their stupid questions.

You are on your way out when you add one last thing.

"Caitlin Clark is a force of nature. She is one of one, I said it about her in college and I will say it again with her in the W. She is unlike anyone we have seen before and you should all be more concerned with how high her ceiling is versus how low to the ground she stands."

You walk out and wait for your media manager to rip you another new one. You don't care and just take it.

When you get back to your hotel, you ignore all the things you are tagged in and open Caitlin's profile.

[You: Hey, this may seem out of the blue but I wanted to let you know I am on team Caitlin. You know the media spins things but keep your head down and play your game and they will see. I've been where you are, I know the media is a circus. Feel free to call or text if you need anything]

You follow your first message with a second that contains your number. It was a little bold and your motives are pure, mostly.

No one asked but if they did, you would tell them that you remember playing Caitlin in college. You remember how your one and only match-up was one of the toughest of your college career. You would speak to how you have followed her ever since, catching every game you could when she played. You were just as mesmerized as she was and neither of you had a clue.

Cait gets back to her apartment and falls on her bed. She unlocks her phone for the first time since the game, a rare occasion but she doesn't want anything to do with what the media was saying about her after that game.

Similarly to when you first followed her, she shoots up to a sitting position on her bed. She scans the message a thousand times.

Caitlin, who was just tired is now wide awake and smiling. She cannot believe her favorite player (and crush) has just given her phone number.

Her phone begins to go crazy in an old team group chat.

[Jadaaa: CAITLIN FREAKIN CLARK]

Jada then sends a link to another post-game presser.

[KMoney: Bro, it is your game to lose now. She's pro-Clark]

[Stulke: I'll start planning the wedding!]

[Caitlin: I bet you can't guess who just got her number 🫣]

[Jadaaa: SHUT UP]

[Stulke: Yep, wedding planning in progress]

[KMoney: I call dibs on making a speech]

[Jadaaa: Get in line Kate, I am getting first speech]

[Caitlin: Shut up]

Caitlin debated sending you a message but decided to wait until the morning. When Caitlin wakes up, she shoots you a text.

[C: Hi...I want to say thank you for always defending me. You really don't have to but I appreciate it]

[C: It's Caitlin btw]

[C: Caitlin Clark if that wasn't clear]

Caitlin feels like an idiot after she texts three times in a row. She locks her phone and throws her head into her pillow with a groan when she hears a 'ding'. She pulls her phone up to her face.

[You: I thought you weren't going to message]

[You: It's cute that you felt the need to put your first and last name]

[C: Didn't want to get mixed up with someone else]

[C: I don't know how often you hand out your number]

[You: Not often]

[You: So...who is Caitlin Clark?]

The two of you messaged pretty consistently. Messages turned to phone calls, phone calls turned to Facetimes then before you knew it you both were talking about anything and everything.

Caitlin's season has gotten better as the Fever as a team has grown, winning more games in a stretch than losing.

It is a few games later after a win that Caitlin is sitting in a post-presser with Aliyah. An interviewer asks if Caitlin has seen the clips of you talking about her in her post-pressers.

Caitlin blushes and looks down, trying to hide her rosy cheeks. Aliyah chuckles and nudges the girl who is now covering her uncontrolled smile with a towel.

"Ya...I've seen them," she says as she removes the towel to show her smile. "I think it is pretty cool how she stands up for me. I have been watching her for years now and love her game so it means a lot when she speaks of me with such grace."

"Ya, I've caught CC watching that presser probably five times now," Aliyah says throwing Caitlin to the wolves. Someone's got to do it right?

Caitlin playfully pushes Aliyah.

"Way to out me," Caitlin says and hides her face again.

There aren't many more questions asked and Caitlin feels like she is in the clear. That is until she gets a call from you.

"Hi," she says with a smile. She doesn't know it but you can tell by her tone when she is smiling.

"Five times, five times is a lot C," you tease her.

She is glad you aren't standing in front of her because the blush that had subsided from the presser is fully back. The truth is that she watched it 15+ times now.

"What can I say? I like watching people praise me," she says trying to speak with confidence.

"Isn't that cute," you say.

"And you are the one who is calling me right after I get out of a presser and you are calling me obsessed?" Caitlin asks.

"That's fair, I won't call next time," you say and Caitlin immediately says 'no'. You laugh and she is thankful you can't see how fast her face turned red.

The conversation is light and flirty before she has to go.

"I'll see you at All-Star weekend," you say, and are looking forward to seeing the rookie. It would be another fun match-up with you being on the Olympic team and her being an All-Star.

"I look forward to kicking your ass," she says, the confidence in her voice dominating over the phone.

You laugh and give her some nonsense response. You've learned she wouldn't talk a big game to the public but when it was just the two of you, that's a completely different story. To you, she talks a big game and you let her. You know she has the game to back it up but you also know you have the ability to slow her down and that is exactly what the plan is for your next meeting.

The weekend arrives and the fun begins. You are included in the starting lineup for the Olympic team while Caitlin is in the starting lineup for the All-Stars.

Your eyes meet hers and you smile. She returns it as you walk up to her. You greet her.

"You ready?" You ask as you pinch at her hip. She swats your hand and shakes her head but your hands are persistent.

"Oh I am more than ready," she says trying to hide her smile.

"Why don't we put a little skin in the game," you say as you lean into her.

"I win, I get to take you out," you say and Caitlin feels a heat rise in her.

"And what do I get if I win?" She chokes out.

"Whatever. You. Want," you say. Caitlin smirks.

"You're on," she says as the two of you shake on it.

The two of you go head-to-head in the game. Caitlin plays one of the best games she has in the W so far. You take note of how hard the girl is working but you also put in the work, having quite the game yourself.

In the final minutes, the score is tied. Your teams switch off points as the seconds wind down.

You have control of the ball, trying to set up the play. Caitlin is guarding you - poking her hand in to try to get the ball away from your hands. You turn and use the screen that Stewie sets up for you, stepping back you put up the three. As you come down, Cait gives you a little push causing you to fall to the ground but you just catch sight of the ball bouncing on and then out of the rim.

Caitlin then proceeds to stand over you, in the heat of the moment, showing you and the crowd that she is tough.

You get to your feet and bump her chest - exchanging a few words.

Someone comes and pushes you back from Cait while they grab Caitlin's arm but you don't back down, bumping Caitlin again.

By now both of your teams have gotten involved and the refs are trying to separate the two of you. As you feel yourself being pulled back you blow Caitlin a kiss.

You both receive techs.

In the final few seconds, all you have to do is not foul and play solid defense which you do, making Caitlin pass it for the final shot that doesn't fall. Team USA taking the victory.

As you celebrate with the team on the court, you also go and hug your opponents from the night making a conscious decision to end with Cait.

When you go in to hug her, you can tell she is moody.

"I'm picking you up at 10 tonight, be ready," you say and wink at her.

As much as Caitlin wanted to win, she couldn't help but be excited.

Once everyone clears out and makes their way back to the hotel, you quickly shower and head to pick Cait up.

When you get to her door and knock, she answers within seconds.

"Someone is a little eager," you joke and she blushes.

"Well it's 10:20 so technically you're late," she says.

You laugh.

"Okay C, come on," you say and lead her on a walk. The two of you talk and she opens up about her experience so far, asking you questions left and right. You answer every single one of them.

"Where are you taking me?" She asks, half expecting the two of you to just stay in her room.

"Patience, we are almost there," you say as you make a turn and Caitlin sees it.

You have brought her to an outdoor court. It is dimly lit and there is a single basketball laying on one side.

You jog to pick up the ball and she walks over to you.

"I just had the best game of my career so far and you want me to play more?" She asks trying to sound annoyed but she isn't annoyed at all.

"Thought we could play a little one-on-one," you say bouncing the ball between your legs before passing it to her. You can tell she is a little skeptical but goes along with it. She begins to bounce the ball and your hand immediately finds her hip, giving it a squeeze like you did before the last game. The same blush as before rose in her cheeks. She works her way around you but your arms wrap around her waist not letting her go anywhere.

"Foul," she yells as you pick her up with her still holding the ball.

"This isn't a normal game babe," you say and she gets the hint. You put her down, still standing right behind her with your hands on her hips. "Take a shot," you whisper in her ear as your lips graze her neck.

Caitlin swallows and puts up the shot missing it.

"That's not fair," she says turning around.

"Better luck next time," you say bringing your hand to graze her cheek. Your eyes go from her eyes down to her lips as you lean in painfully slow.

Caitlin grabs your shirt and anticipates your lips on hers. When they never come, she pouts.

You run to grab the ball and pass it to her again.

"No bucket, no kiss," you say and you can see her demeanor change.

Caitlin locks in.

"Oh it's on," she says as she is ready for the one-on-one action.

AN: Here you go! Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[reiding-writing]

HI LOVE UR WORK ESPECIALLY COLD READER IVE BEEN BINGING THEM AND I NEED MOREE

Soo speaking of i think prompt 15 could be a really cute cold reader prompt for something and I WOULD LOVE IT

HOMETOWN [CLIMACTERIC]

/ˌhəʊmˈtaʊn/

15. “I can’t believe you remembered.”

WARNINGS: fem!reader, mentions of spencer’s bullying, made up childhood bully (sorry spence <3), swearing as per, typical cold!reader antics

spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff?? || 3.0k || event masterlist!!

main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ cold!reader masterlist!!

a/n: great minds think alike huh? the fact that both these requests specified for it to be cold!reader as well is insane to me 😭😭

There’s that saying that the worst people in school always end up going into jobs that provide for others; The idea that petty school bullies take up careers in hospitality or community service despite all of their obvious social flaws.

Honestly, Spencer always found the idea ridiculous. They had just as much of a chance as going into a hospitality job as they did a 9-5 office job.

Their attitude didn’t have any causational impact on their future career whatsoever, people just focused on the people that did end up in those fields and then generalised it to the larger population with no reasonable backing.

But he’d be lying if that wasn’t the first thing that ran through his head when he walked into station 14 of the LVMPD and ran right into somebody from his middle school.

Somebody who fit that god awful false idea to a T.

“We’ll get you set up asap, Robinson, DeGaris, show the agents to 22B will you?”

Spencer knew the second he turned around. Some people’s faces never really mature through puberty. The bone structure doesn’t change and they just end up looking like a taller version of their child self.

“Would you look at that? Looks like we’ve made it to the big leagues,” Officer DeGaris nudges his partner with a raise of his eyebrows, and Robinson shakes his head with a short laugh in response.

“More like we’re doing such a bad job they had to call in the big leagues,” Robinson pushes DeGaris’ head away with the palm of his hand before clasping his fists together at his waist. “Welcome to Las Vegas, land of casinos, neon signs, and… serial killers apparently— Uh I’m Caleb, this is Will, chances are you’ll see a lot of us over the next however long you’re here,”

“Pleasure,” Hotch holds out his hand to shake the two officers’, who promptly move to shake hands with the rest of the team afterwards.

By the time the two reach you and Spencer stood at the back of the group he feels like he might throw up his heart from how fast it was beating, and he swerves the shakes with all the awkwardness of his usual evasions as he excuses himself to walk ahead of the team.

It was stupid really. It had been almost two decades since what had happened, yet even just being in his proximity was making Spencer sweat like he was a final girl in a horror movie.

“Excuse us,” Your words hold no social grace as you slide past the two officers to follow after Spencer. He wasn’t the best with meeting new people, but he never left the conversation before it could even start. “Reid-”

Although mildly confused, the two officers don’t seem all that disheartened as the two of you disappear into the meeting room, their attention turning back to the rest of your team.

“Well,” Caleb claps his hands together with a politely awkward smile. “We’ll let you guys get settled in, if you need anything at all come and find one of us and we’ll do our best to get it for you,” He gestures between himself and Will stood next to him, gazing half-blankly into the open shutters of the window into the room with furrowed eyebrows at yourself and Spencer like he’s trying to put puzzle pieces together in his mind.

“Thank you officer, we will,” Hotch gives the two a small nod before gesturing the team into the room and leaving the two policemen outside.

—

At least the station had a coffee machine. Spencer’s one saving grace in the fact that he was not only working on a case in his own home city but also in the same town he grew up in, a town with some very familiar faces.

The scent of the caffeinated beverage was enough to bring him back to his right mind a little as it hit the ceramic mug with a burst of steam, and Spencer watched the liquid flow aimlessly as he waited for his drink to be made.

Coffee solved all his problems.

“Hey,”

Most of the time.

With a slow breath and his eyes shut to compose himself, Spencer turned around slowly to greet the voice, hit lips pressed into a straight line as his eyes opened once more, greeted with an all too familiar sight.

“I thought I recognised you Spencer, or sorry, it’s Agent Reid now right?” Will raised an eyebrow slightly, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

There was no real malice behind his tone, no sarcasm or taunting, no twitch in his facial expression that could make Spencer think he was trying to get under his skin. But he did. And it made Spencer feel like a 9 year old all over again.

“It’s uh, Doctor Reid actually,”

Will gives a short laugh and a nod, like Spencer’s title was something he’d expected. “Right, right, of course, so you’re not an FBI Agent then?”

“I am,” Spencer answers shortly, hands wringing together behind his back as he leans against the kitchenette counter. “But the title of Doctor outranks the title of Agent,”

He could see that familiar glint in Will’s eye as he explained the reasoning behind his official title, like he was looking at some puny know-it-all rather than a person of his own age.

“Very impressive,” Will gives him a slow, almost animated nod, and Spencer has never been more grateful for the shrill beeping of an automated coffee machine as he tears his eyes from Will to pick up his mug, cradling it between his to hands.

“Well, it was uh, good— to see you again Billy I’m glad you got where you wanted to go in life—“

“I don’t go by that name anymore,” Will crossed his arms over his chest with a shake of his head, his expression cordial despite the way his fists clenched like the mae had caused physical discomfort to him. “I go by Will now.”

“Right, Will, I should get back to my team now,”

“I’m sure they can wait a few minutes, we should catch up, for old time’s sake,”

—

“Where is Reid?” You exhale exasperatedly, biting your tongue to keep yourself in check as you turn towards Morgan and Emily with a show of your hands.

“Maybe the coffee machine was broken,” Emily shrugs nonchalantly as she sorts through the scene photos, occasionally passing one over the table towards you to hang up on the board.

“As if I needed any more reasons to hate those pieces of shit,” You groan exaggeratedly, dragging your hand down your face.

“Calm down lover, being away from the pretty boy for an extra few minutes won’t kill you,” Morgan rolls his eyes at your attitude with a short laugh, tapping his fingers against the table.

“Oh shut your mouth,” You scoff as you walk down the length of the table, pushing the heel of your hand against Morgan’s temple as you pass him as an extra form of chastisation which he promptly laughs at you for as you leave the room in search of Spencer.

“Oh to be young and in love,” Morgan laughs to himself as he clasps his hands together, leaning his head backwards over the chair to look at Emily with a knowing look.

“$50 on less than a year,” Emily doesn’t even look up at her proposition, and Morgan laughs with a shake of his head.

“Oh no no, they’re playing the long game, it’ll be at least another two,”

“Deal,” Emily holds her right hand out in Morgan’s direction, and he grasps it in his own with a firm shake.

“Deal.”

—

Spencer is still standing by the coffee machine, a steaming mug in his hands. It does not take eight minutes to make a single cup of coffee.

Well it wouldn’t if he wasn’t stood talking to one of the local police officers.

More like the officer was talking at him.

And if the way he was fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve was any indication, he was not enjoying the conversation.

If it weren’t for the harsh fluorescent lighting, the furrow of his eyebrows would be imperceptible from where you were standing, but the way he rolls his ankles and shifts his weight onto the balls of his feet would be noticeable from a mile away even in pitch black darkness.

Time to go and save Spencer Reid from his own social ineptitude. Again.

He doesn’t acknowledge you as you approach despite you clearly being in his eye line, his sole focus on the man in front of him even as you near close enough to be able to hear their conversation.

“…were quite the character weren’t you Pick?”

Spencer purses his lips together uncomfortably at the nickname, and you take the break in the conversation as an invitation to get between the two.

You clear your throat with crossed arms, eyes flickering between the two of them as they turn their attention away from each other and towards you instead.

“You’re needed back in the meeting room,”

Spencer nods at you a little too eagerly, clearly ready to rid himself of his new companion. “Right, good bye Bil- Will, sorry,” He doesn’t make eye contact with the officer as he all but power walks past you to head towards the meeting room, and your eyebrows furrow ever so slightly as your glance wanders from Spencer to the almost smug expression on the officer’s face.

“Is something funny?” Your question is enough to bring Will’s eyes away from watching Spencer scurry off with his tail between his legs and towards you with horribly feigned innocence.

The look in your eyes is less than savoury, and it’s enough that small glimpse of condescension simmers in his irises to break through his pleasant facade.

You don’t stick around to have to speak to him any further, and with a final look over you leave him by the coffee machine to rejoin the team in the meeting room.

—

“You can’t avoid him forever you know,”

Your voice stirs Spencer out of his focus, and he straightens himself up in his chair as he looks at you, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

You hadn’t really said anything since you re-entered the meeting room, not even bothering to defend yourself against Morgan’s musings about how much you were complaining about Spencer not being present to help you with the profiles, yet less than a minute after Morgan and Emily left, your conversational battery had suddenly returned.

“I— What do you mean?”

“Officer DeGaris,”

Spencer looks at you like you’ve read his diary without his permission.

He forgets just how observant you are sometimes, how easy it seems to be for you to distinguish between Spencer’s general dislike for small talk and meeting new people and when his discomfort is specifically aimed.

You look through the meeting room’s glass window with roaming eyes, Spencer presumes it’s to find the Officer in question. “He acts like a glorified man-child so I can’t blame you for resenting him,”

“Did he say something to you?” He sounds almost afraid at the idea that Will might’ve said something distasteful to you, his face scrunching up in concern, but you dispel the thought with a quick shake of your head.

“No, he didn’t say anything to me,” Spencer can physically see the moment that your eyes catch on Will across the station in the way that your micro expressions change, the way your arms cross tighter over your chest and your nostrils flare. “He was more than distasteful to you though,”

You sigh in mild frustration. “You’d think that people would mature once they reach adulthood, but there’s always a few that cling to their childhood relevancy like their life depends on it. Pathetic really,”

he doesn’t know whether he should even be entitled to being surprised that you knew Will was character from his childhood. It doesn’t stop him. “I never said I knew him when I was a child,”

“He called you Pick, and you called him Billy,” You deadpan like it’s obvious. “You’re not exactly hiding it,”

“I can’t believe you remembered that,” You can see the genuine befuddlement in Spencer’s expression as you relay the cluing details into his past, like he seemingly can’t comprehend that you were actually paying attention and storing Spencer’s divulgence into his childhood in your memories.

“Believe it or not Reid, I do actually listen,” You sound almost offended at how surprised Spencer seems, and he back tracks immediately with a surrendering wave of his hands.

“That’s not— I didn’t mean to insinuate that, I just meant—” Spencer sighs exasperatedly at his failure to string together a coherent sentence. “I only mentioned it offhandedly is all, it’s not something people usually dwell on,”

“It’s not difficult to listen when someone confides in you Reid, it’s basic human compassion,” You move away from the window with a start, stopping just shy of the door right as it opens.

“Can we help you?” The small amount of empathy in your tone vanishes immediately as you meet Will’s eyes, your head cocked in obvious impatience despite the fact that he hasn’t even spoken a word to you yet.

And although mildly deterred by your expression, he follows through nonetheless. “I need to speak to— Agent Reid, it’s something about the case.”

You’d wager it’s definitely not about the case.

“Doctor Reid is busy, if you have something important go and find SSA Hotchner,”

Spencer can’t see your expression as you stand with your back to him, but if he had to make a guess based off of the way that Will’s face falters he’d say you were probably glaring at him. That signature glare that you never hesitated to utilise when deemed a necessary reaction.

He’s half glad he can’t see your face, because it means that you can’t see his, and the way his cheeks redden against his will at not only your intervention between him having to have another conversation with one of the nightmares of his childhood, but also how casual you were in correcting his use of Spencer’s official title.

“I can’t find SSA Hotchner,” He responds like he’s got you beat, but you barely so much as acknowledge it at all.

“Email him then, your chief supervisor has the details.” You take a small step forward to motivate him to step backwards out of the doorway, and you uncross your arms only to grasp the edge of the door. “Now if you’d please excuse us, we do our best work without distractions.”

You don’t give him time to reply before you close on him, but there’s just enough time for Spencer to see the astonishment dawn on Will’s face at your dismissal before he’s shut out completely.

Your frustration is still present on your face as you turn to walk back over to the whiteboard, and Spencer presses his lips together in an awkwardly endearing fashion before muttering out a soft “thank you,” in your direction.

“I don’t tolerate bullies Reid, it’s nothing to be thankful for,” You shake your head to dismiss him, a much lighter—much friendlier— dismissal than you’d awarded Will.

”You didn’t have to do that though,” Spencer sighs softly, playing with the sleeves of his sweater. “Let me buy you a coffee at least? There’s a cafe a few minutes away from here that I used to go to when I was younger, and I think I need the break,”

You can’t really blame his sudden want for fresh air, and you’d rather not slave away on the profile without him to filter your thoughts through, so you don’t really have much option but to join him.

“It’s not one of those ridiculously expensive coffee places is it?” You raise your eyebrow at him warningly and Spencer shakes his head with a soft laugh, one your happy to hear as a sign that Will hadn’t knocked him off his game too much.

“No no, last time I was here it was $3.49 a cup, perfectly normal,” He brushes a strand of hair from his eye with a small smile. “So you’ll join me?”

You let out a small exhale and a shrug of your shoulders, and Spencer knows that you’re feigning more begrudgement than you’re feeling. “I guess I could do with a break,”

Spencer’s smile seems to get just that little bit brighter at your response.

“But I’m buying my own coffee.”

“Okay—” Spencer gives you a small nod, joined by a laugh, and you wait until he’s got his back to you before letting a small smile invade your mouth at the sight.

[castiwls]

my number one .ᐟ

Paring; art x reader

Synopsis; You'd always been your own worst enemy. Your anxiety liked to jump out at the worst times yet your ever-doting boyfriend was determined to be there every. single. time.

Even if that meant missing his match.

Requested; anon

Notes; tysm for the request <3 i kinda based this on my own anxiety and the methods I've been taught over the years

Masterlist

“I don’t wanna be annoying.”

“You're not being annoying.”

No matter how many times he says it, you never believe it. How could you not be annoying, especially when you’ve woken him up at 3 a.m. for what must be the third time this week?

Art sighed, pulling you closer to his chest. His hands rubbed over your back in soothing circles as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Just follow my breathing, okay?” It was a saying so common that it seemed to fall from his lips without a thought. It was almost like a lifeline of sorts knowing that no matter what you’d always have the steady beat of his heart only a phone call away whenever your own decided to forget how to beat on time and needed reminding.

It was equally a blessing and a curse. A blessing to have someone like Art who would drop everything to come at your beacon call but a curse that you needed him in that way. 

Even now when he should be preparing for another tournament - against which school you can’t remember but then again your only thought right now is being able to focus enough to breathe - he’s here with you tucked around a corner from your class as you try to calm your breathing.

The moment he’d gotten your text.

Please come

Need you

He’d left the court without a second thought and made it to the building in record time. “You’re okay.” He soothed running a thumb over your cheek as he held your gaze. “You’re okay just breathe. In and out.” 

He hated seeing you like this. No matter how many times it happened he’d never shake that feeling of nausea that would swim in his stomach whenever your breath seemed to catch and your eyes grew distant. It made him want to just wrap you in his arms and protect you from anything and everything that left you feeling even slightly anxious.

You were his entire world and it hurt him to know you were your own worst enemy. 

“C’mon.” His hand intertwined with yours as he grabbed your bag. You both walked quietly back to his dorm your heart rate slowly going back to normal as you both walked. 

“Don’t you have practice?” You frowned as he placed your bag on his bed turning to watch as you shut the door. “It’s fine.” He smiled trying to reassure you as he opened his arms. “I can practice later you’re more important right now okay.” He sighed pulling you against his chest.

The practice could wait right now all he cared about was you. 

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

Not now, please god not now.

Art had already been so busy the last few days that you’d purposefully tried to leave him alone. He needed to train and you didn’t want to get in the way and worry him more then he already was. 

He’d only left his dorm an hour ago to get ready for the match and you’d been fine. Better then fine actually you’d had a great morning and for a moment you’d thought that maybe you’d go three full days without your anxiety rearing its ugly head.

And then it proved you wrong.

“Art I’m fine.” You could hear his concern down the phone as you sat on his bed, mentally counting your breaths to try and keep some semblance of calm. “You sure? I can come back for a-”

“No. No stay there and just relax okay? I’ll come find you before it starts.” You could almost picture the concern in his eyes as he sighed before relenting. If you said you were fine you were fine, pushing you would only make it worse.

“Okay but call me if you need okay? I love you.”

“I love you too.” You smiled slightly tracing shapes over his covers as you ended the call. The room was starting to feel too small as you sat, the air almost stuffy. Nothing had even happened and yet you could already feel the anxiety building.

The pit in your stomach swirled as your hands grew clammy no matter how many times you wiped them on your jeans.

You were fine.

You had to be fine. 

Taking a breath you stood pacing the small space as you tried to halt the attack. Breathe in for 10 out for 10.

In for 10 out for 10.

“Fuck.” Your voice shook slightly as tears began to prick at your eyes, your chest heaving as you tried to pull in a breath that wasn’t there. 

Your eyes darted around the room as you looked for anything to help but came up empty. You couldn’t call him. You knew the minute you did he’d drop everything and you didn’t want that.

No matter how bad this was - and it was bad by your standards - his match was more important.

Wiping the tears you sat back down closing your eyes as you tried to talk yourself through it.

You were fine.

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

The breath he’d been holding since you’d spoken on the phone a few hours ago seemed to finally release as he spotted you in the crowd. His eyes lit up and a bright smile pulled at his lips as he made his way through the crowd towards where you stood, your own eyes lighting up when you noticed him.

“Hey.” He grinned pulling you in for a chaste kiss. “You came.”

“Of course I did.” You laughed but it was strained. Your smile slightly too tight as you fixed the cap over his curls. “You ready?” You asked pulling back ever so slightly. 

“You're shaking.” 

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are I can see your hands.” Art sighed his smile pulling into a frown as he took your hand in his. “Your freezing as well.” 

Your face was still pulled into a tight smile but he saw right through it. The slight draw in your brow and the redness around your eyes gave you away almost immediately. Before you could say anything else he was pulling you through the crowd and behind the bleachers.

You swallowed back the tears which burned at your eyes. It had taken the whole two hours since the phone call for you to calm down even an inch and even now you still felt sluggish in your own body. 

“Art m’fine.” Your voice shook as you closed your eyes. 

“No your not.” He shook his head pushing a strand of hair from your face. “Why didn’t you call me?” You always called! It was bad enough knowing you’d walked from the dorms to the court like this but knowing you’d very possibly been like this since he’d last called you?

His own heart was racing at the thought.

“I didn’t wanna distract you.” His hand was now rubbing over your shoulder as you wiped at your eyes. “I know how much this means to you-”

“The match doesn’t matter.” He shook his head gently, tilting your chin up. Part of you already felt better just being near him, his presence a comfort in itself.

“Nothing matters more than you.” He smiled his eyes filled with warmth as his thumb flicked away a tear. “I’m not playing until I know you're okay. I can’t play knowing you're feeling like this.”

He pulled you closer rubbing a hand over your back. The match would never be more important than you - hell tennis would always come second to you. The fact the thought even crossed your mind was enough to have him debating putting the racket down and pulling you back to his dorm.

“Promise me you're still gonna play.” You whispered tucking your face into the crook of his neck as you breathed in the gentle scent of his aftershave for a moment. Your lungs seemed to work again as you pressed closer, sinking into his body.

“We’re not talking about tennis.” He murmured balancing his chin on your head. “You're all that matters.”

He meant his words, every single one of them. Sure he would play in the tournament but only once he knew you were okay, until then it was the last thing on his mind.

Tennis could never hold a torch to his love for you.

[chaengluva]

Don’t Be Fooled By The Pink

Regina George x Fem!Reader: 2.4k words.

Requested: No

Regina hasn’t laid eyes on you before but one day she noticed that you were feeling sad and she couldn’t help but feel bad for you, so Regina decided to he human for once.

WARNINGS: Slight mention of a bad life at home and bullying

You walked into class with your head down and your hoodie up. You tried your best to hide your face from the people that you knew would make fun of you for crying at school, but you couldn't help it. So much was going on in your life that you couldn't take it anymore.

You were so tired of being the second choice, in the eyes of everyone, everything you do is compared to what your sister does, if you get a B, you should do better but when you get an A, your parents blame you for cheating, but when its your sister, they treat her like she just found a cure to cancer.

Nothing like what happened this morning, it was the worst fight and your sister just let your parents attack you. Your mom went in to your room when you were sleeping, and being herself, she went threw all your stuff. She opened your note book, the one were you confessed your crush, on a girl.

You tried to tell her that you didn't like that girl anymore, and you told her that it was all just a phase (which is a lie), but you didn't want her to be mad at you.

It didn't work; she wasn't happy; she started yelling at you, which started you awake and made your father and sister rush in; they also yelled at you; and your sister just watched and smirked while it happened, which broke your heart.

Your mom told you to pack your stuff and not come home after school today, you felt so broken and you didn't know where do go, so that's why you were upset at school.

You look up for the first time, and you notice that Regina Geogre is staring at you. You sigh, looking away, knowing she is probally juding you for crying, when you look back you notice she is still looking at you, which makes you more embarssed.

You look away, then you feel a vibration on from your phone, you pull it out to check and you were really confused when it said that Regina had texted you through instagram.

@TheRegina_Geogre

Hey, I know we have never talked but why are you crying?

@Y/n.L/n_

Just personal reasons.

@TheRegina_Geogre

Do you want to talk about it?

Just leave the classroom; meet me in the janitors closet next to the classroom.

She didn't say anything else; she just got up and left. You were so confused about why Regina was being nice to you, but you didn't want to argue with her, so you just got up and followed her. You opened the door and saw Regina sitting down, doing her nails.

"Hey," you say, sitting down next to her. "So, why are you crying?" She asks, and you look down, saying, "Well, my parents kicked me out because..." You panicked, realising that she could also be homophobic, but you sighed, pretending not to care and saying, "I'm lesbian." You finish.

She pauses, looking at you. There was no shaking on her face; she was just quiet. "Oh." She said quietly, and you get up to leave, knowing she probably doesn't want to deal with you anymore, but she grabs your wrist and pulls you back down.

"Stay." She says, "Tell me more." You sigh, "Well I'm always second in my parents eyes, my sister can't do anything wrong, but I can't do anything right." She gives you an apologetic look, and pulling you in for a hug. "I get what your going through, I do."

You nod your head. The bell rings, meaning class is over, but none of you moved. It wasn't like your parents were going to do anything; you weren't going back.

You stayed the whole time in there until it was lunch time, and the two of you were hungry. You didn't think she wanted to eat lunch with you because of her reputation, so you quickly got up, not noticing that she tried to chase after you, but she lost you.

"Watch out, loser!" One of the jocks said he was throwing a football at you, making everyone around you laugh. You quickly tried to escape the sense, then you felt cold liquid drip down your body, and when you opened your eyes, you noticed people around you recording you and your sister pouring milk on you.

You left all your stuff and walked off. You shoved past people as they tried to trip you over and humiliate you even more. You walked until no one could see you, but you were still on campus.

Regina had been looking for you and was just deterred to go sit with her friends. As she walks to the table, she notices everyone's eyes on a phone, laughing at the video of you being bullied. This makes her mad.

She was about to sit down on the table, but Gretchen's voice stopped her. "I'm sorry, Regina. You can't sit with us." She says it loudly, and everyone looks up from their phones and puts their eye on the plastic table "What?" Regina asks with a small laugh. "You're wearing sweatpants. It's Thursday." Gretchen continues, and Regina rolls her eyes. "Whatever. Those rules aren't real."

"They were real that day I wore a vest." Karen says, and Regina rolls her eyes again. "Yeah, because that vest was disgusting!" Regina exclaims, and everyone goes quiet.

"You can't sit with us!" Gretchen yells. More silence. "These sweatpants are all that fit me right now." Regina whispers, not wanting many people to hear her.

"What do you think, Cady?" Gretchen asks Cady, and Regina looks at the strawberry blonde. She turns around with a smirk on her face and says, "Sorry, Regina. Rules are rules." She says it with a smirk in her voice. "Fine." She says this, turning away from the table. Everyone's eyes were on her, and she just rolled her eyes. "Take a picture, losers. It'll last longer." She says, walking away, throwing away her lunch as she goes.

She leaves the school, and she notices you sitting behind a tree, making her sigh. She walks up to you, kneeling down, pulling you in for a hug. "I'm sorry I wasn't there." Regina says she is picking you up and taking you back to her house.

The two of you did everything you could to distract you from what was going on in your life; you watched movies, talked, and she even showed you the burn book that she wrote about girls in the grade; you weren't in it, which you didn't know how to feel about.

"I told Gretchen not to put you in it, she wanted to." Regina says, You give her a confused look, "Why?" You ask, and she sighs, looking down and sighing, "Because I like you." Regina says, and you blush, not wanting to believe her if she is lying. She notices this and rolls her eyes, grabbing your neck and pulling you in for a kiss.

You kissed back, slowly changing your position on the bed so she was hovering over you, as you made out, you got lost, you forgot about everything and for once in your life you felt wanted. 

You opened your eyes, and you were shocked to feel Regina's arms around you. She was holding you close. You moved slightly, waking the girl up. She yawed before getting up and moving to her closest. She threw you some clothes to wear, not saying a word. "I need to get my status back." Regina says, nodding her head, "How come you only talked to me when you saw me crying?" You ask, making Regina sigh.

"I've always been so shy; I know that sounds stupid, me? Shy?" Regina says, giggling, making you smile back, and hugging her, "Thanks, Regina." You smile, letting go of Regina, grabbing the clothes she gave you, then changing, leaving Regina standing there with a stupid smile on her face.

When you finally got changed, you came out to see that Regina was now sitting on her bed, eating a kalteen bar, which made you confused. "Regina?" You ask, she hums, looking up and into your eyes. "You know those make you gain weight."

Her eyes go from really soft to angry. She spits the rest of the bar she was chewing out and grabs the burn book, putting Cady's name inside it. (You thought so.) "I'm kicking her out today." Regina says you just nod your head, not wanting to argue with her.

The two of you go to school and sit on the plastic table like nothing happened yesterday. Gretchen and Karen were happy that Regina finally told you about her feelings; her arm was wrapped around you possessively, and the two girls sat opposite you and started to talk.

Cady made her way to the table, and Regina looked at the girl with angry eyes. Cady had no idea that Regina knew about the scheme she pulled off, and she wasn't happy about it.

Cady was about to sit down, but Regina spoke up, "You're not allowed to sit here." Regina said, and Cady gasped, "Why not?" She asked with hurt in her voice. "Because I said so," Regina said, hoping that was enough for the strawberry blonde to get up and leave, but she didn't move.

"So you're replacing me with some sore loser?" Cady says, rolling her eyes. Gretchen and Karen's eyes go wide, and they tell Cady to run away with their hands, but she doesn't pick it up. Regina drops the cheese fry that she was holding in her hand, then stands up. "Excuse me?" Regina says, and the shorter girl smirks. "You heard me."

Regina chuckles, walking closer to the girl, showing the clear height difference between them, making Cady slightly regret what she said and backing away. "Y/N is not a loser." Regina says, and Cady nervously nods, making the blonde roll her eyes. "Y/N is prettier than you; she has a personality. You were nothing before you met me." Regina said, pushing down the girl.

The whole cafeteria was laughing at her, which made the blonde smirk and feel satisfied enough to sit back down. When she sat back down, she noticed you were eating her cheese fries. Usually she would be mad if someone ate her food, but now she felt worried. "Y/N?" Regina said, making you jump and quickly putting the fry down.

"Sorry for eating your food," you nervously say. The blonde giggles, shaking her head. "It's okay; you can have the rest of them." She smiles, and Gretchen and Karen stare at the girl in shock. Regina never shares her food, but she did with you.

She allows you to touch her hair and eat her food. Karen and Gretchen knew that she liked you, but you didn't expect the two of you to move this quickly.

"Regina?" Gretchen said, making the girl roll her eyes, and she looked over at Gretchen. "What?" She asked with bitterness in her voice. "I have to pee, do you?" Gretchen said, smirking, and Regina knew exactly what Gretchen was doing. She groaned, getting up and then following Gretchen into the bathroom.

"What do you want?" Regina asked, crossing her arms. Gretchen gulped. "Are you dating Y/N?" Gretchen asks, and Regina gasps, "Not yet." She smirks and then goes to leave, but Gretchen grabs her and says, "You should take her out tonight." Gretchen suits, and Regina stops in her tracks and turns back to face her.

"You know what? That's a really good idea." Regina smiles, leaving. Gretchen has a massive smile on her face. She finally feels seen by her best friend. Regina goes back to you, taking a deep breath. "Y/N," she said, grabbing your attention.

You looked up, with a smile on your face, asking, "Yes?" Regina takes a deep breath before asking, "Will you go out with me? On a date." You happily smile and nod quickly, and she smiles, pulling you in for a hug and then walking away.

The two of you girls went home later that day and got ready in different rooms. When you walked out and saw Regina, she looked amazing.

She took you out to this very fancy restaurant that was very expensive; you almost felt bad watching her pay. When the two of you got back home, you held each other close and watched movies.

When you woke up, Regina wasn't with you; she wasn't by your side, which made you confused. You asked her mum where she was, and she told you that Regina had gone to school already, which made you frown. You had to catch the bus.

When you got to school, it was insane. Every girl was attacking each other, and you didn't know why, but then people turned to look at you and started laughing. You were confused by what they were laughing about, but then you got a text from someone.

"Y/N is a slut who craves attention from girls because her parents don't give her any."

You felt tears come to your eyes, and you knew exactly who wrote this, and she told you that she wouldn't write your name in the book. You look up, and Regina is making eye contact with you. She is trying to say something, but you ignore it.

You rush into the bathroom and put your hands in your head, feeling the tears come through, thinking of how dumb you were to trust Regina George.

Just as you open the door, Regina comes in, and you look away. "Y/n." She says, You roll your eyes, "What?" Regina sighs deeply. "I didn't mean anything I wrote about you. I had to write it." Regina says, making you roll your eyes again. "What do you mean you had to?" You ask.

Regina looks down at the ground. "I didn't want you to get framed, so I wrote you and me in it," Regina confesses, and you look down. "Oh."

Regina pulls you in for a hug, praying that you will hug back, and thankfully, you do. "Let's skip the rest of the day." Regina asks, and you nod with a smile on your face.

[gilverrwrites]

Hi

Could you make a Sam Winchester having erotic dreams with his female best friend?

Author Note: Hello! I hope you don't mind, but I combined this request with your other request for Dean in the same scenario (and added Cas cause 😍) I'm also working on a separate fic for Dean having erotic dreams about a rival per that request. I really hope you enjoy! ❤️

Rating: M/18+

Words: 1940 (Dean 685, Sam 685, Cas 570)

Request Info | Masterlist | Ko-Fi

It's a total coincidence that Dean and Sam are both 685 each!

Please remember: To focus on the things that make you happy.

Dean Winchester

“Oooh yes Dean, yes, that’s it.” Your voice sounds hoarse and breathy. Makes sense cause you’ve been moaning like that, praising like that all night. “You like that baby?” Dean asks from beneath you, completely entranced by the bounce of your breasts and the sway of your hips as you ride him. “You like fuckin’ yourself on my dick baby?” “Yes, Dean, yes! You feel so fucking good. Make me feel so good.” You chant, and when your head rolls back in ecstasy, Dean follows. His fingers grip at your skin, forcing you against him as he ruts into you, spilling himself inside.

That was last night’s dream. The most recent in a string of dreams that left him hot and bothered every morning. The worst part was facing you. Trying to look you in the eye, discuss a case, or make a game plan without thinking about you naked and moaning on his dick.

He’d been avoiding you as much as possible, but sometimes just your name was enough to make him pop a boner, much like the one he had now. He positioned his beer bottle over his offending member and forced himself to stare out the window, averting his gaze from the sight of you, bent over the nearest pool table.

“Hey, what’s up with you?” The sound of your voice made him jump. Man, how out of it was he?

“What?” He looked up at you, hands on hips, staring down at him. The sight made his lips dry. “Oh nothin’, I think I’ve had too many. Maybe I should call it a night.”

“You’ve had like two drinks. That barely even touches the sides.” You state, and you’re not wrong. You know him too well. He can’t help clenching his jaw as you sit down across from him. When he sees how your new angle offers him a perfect shot of your cleavage, he thinks he might start grinding away his teeth. “Anyway, that’s not what I meant.”

“What do you mean then?” He leans in closer. Not to be closer, but he hopes leaning forward might help hide the bulge in his jeans.

“You’ve been acting funny, and avoiding me all wee-“

“N-“

“Don’t interrupt. Yes, you have.” You punctuate your statement by placing your drink on the table. You don’t slam, but it's hard and firm enough to communicate your point. “Don’t you try to deny it Dean Winchester! I know you too well. You’ve been avoiding me, and when you can’t get away you’re all squirrely and quiet. Now tell me what’s going on.”

He drains his beer as he thinks it over. Partly to try and return some moisture to his mouth but primarily to buy himself some time while he thinks things over. If he’s honest, he might get something out of it. A one-night stand, a fuck buddy, maybe more? Or he might lose you, which he couldn’t stand.

“I…”

“Come on Dean, whatever it is, we’ll get through it. We always do.”

Fuck it. You’re right. He gestures to the bartender for another round, takes a deep breath, and spills. And a funny thing happens: he starts to feel more relaxed as he lets it out. If you’re not into it, that’s fine. So long as it doesn’t scare you off.

When he’s done, he watches you as you process his confession. Man, he loves the way your face moves when you’re thinking.

“So…” You purse your lips and take a quick sip of your drink as you prepare your response. “What’s the problem? Do you not want to sleep with me?”

“No, I do. Obviously, you’re…” hot, incredible, the only woman I want. Unable to voice any of the thoughts in his head at that moment, he gestures to you, head to toe and back again. “I just don’t want it to cause problems between us. Our friendship”

 “Then we won’t let it.” You state matter-of-factly. “Now, are you gonna take me back to the bunker so we can fuck each other dumb or not?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”

Sam Winchester

His fingers are knuckle deep inside of you as you lay back, spread out across his bed. “Fuckkk… Sam!” You look up at him, eyes hazy, hair a mess, and he can feel his dick throb in response. “Sam, I’m so full.” “Poor baby.” He coos in response. “So full already, and I’ve barely even touched you.” He watches the way your expression melts at his words with pride, when he sees your lips start to form your reply, he places a direct smack to your clit. The whine you release is music to his ears. The way you wither and moan as he begins to play with your clit, fuck, you’re so hot. “Are you ready for more?” He asks. He’s pleased when you begin vigorously nodding. “Yes, Sam! Yes! Yes, please!”

Years of impersonating officials and hustling at almost every bar he stopped at had earned Sam a more than convincing poker face. But you always saw right through it.

For that reason, Sam had been bending over backwards to avoid you. He wasn’t totally sure what he was hiding, the fact that he’d dreamed about you, or the fact that he’d furiously masturbated to the memory of it upon waking up. Either way, he wasn’t ready to face you.

He’d hung back in the morning, grabbing his breakfast later than usual. Gone to the local library all day to research, citing a change of scenery when Dean questioned him, and had gone grocery shopping as an excuse to stay out later.

After unpacking the shopping, he’d hopped in the shower, making up for skipping his usual morning routine.

What he hadn’t accounted for was finding you, dressed in nothing but your panties and one of his t-shirts, in the centre of his bed. The very bed he’d vividly fantasised about pleasing you in.

It wasn’t an unusual sight. You were his best friend after all. You often hung out in each other’s rooms, and you frequently borrowed his shirts. He just really could have done without all this today.

“Hey Sam.” You greeted him with a smile, looking up from your laptop. “I missed you today.”

“Hey.” He responds awkwardly. Both hands clutching at his towel. He clears his throat before continuing. “Yeah, I was busy I guess. You too.”

“No worries.” You assure him before returning your gaze to your screen. “I could use your help with something if that’s alright?”

“Sure.” He approaches the bed. Certain close proximity will escalate his predicament he resolves to remain standing. However, looking down at you, with your head so close to his crotch, is equally stirring something within him. Reluctantly, he sits beside you. He glances at your computer briefly but quickly becomes preoccupied with adjusting and readjusting his towel, determined to cover the growing erection beneath.

“So, I’ve been looking into the apple of Sodom for Claire but…” he swears he meant to listen, but he’d never noticed how good you smell before, or how your skin glows even under the dingy light of his room. “Sam? Sam are you even listening?”

“Yeah, of course.” He finally tunes back in. “Apple of Sodom, Claire… hand of God?”

He looks into your eyes to judge his improv, but you’re staring, wide-eyed, right at the thing he’s been trying to hide.

“Is that- are you…” You look at his face, and he can feel the heat spreading across his cheeks. “For- because of me?”

“I’m sorry!” He stands, pausing to compose his words before continuing his apology. “I just, I had this dream last night about you, and it’s all I’ve been able to think about all day. I know I shouldn’t. I know it’s wrong.”

“Why is it wrong?”

“Because you’re my friend. My best friend.”

“Right.” You always saw right through him, but fortunately, that was a two-way skill, and right now, he could hear, he could feel the disappointment you were radiating.

“Unless…” he cocks a brow at you, and your body immediately perks up. You look up at him, eyes hazy, identical to his dream. “Do you want this too?”

Castiel

You’re a vision on your knees before him, eyes watering, cheeks puffed out, hair tangled between his fingers. He stares intently, relishing in all the subtle movements of your faces as he lazily pumps his penis between your lips.  His grip grows tighter every time he feels the back of your throat against his tip. Your muffled pants and moans are music to his ears. The way your lips glisten beneath the sheen of your own saliva is erotic, and he worries the sight of you alone will be enough to make him finish before he’s really begun.

It’s that vision he’s thinking of now as he watches you on your hands and knees, scrubbing a chalk pentagram off the floor.

He’s brought out of his chain of thoughts by the sound of your voice. “Is there something on my face?”

“No.” He squints at your face; he is confident it looks fine, more than fine, beautiful in fact, but he examines it in more depth, nonetheless. “There is nothing on your face. In fact, your face is quite adequate.”

“Quite adequate, I’ll take that as high praise.” You laugh. He’s not certain what’s so funny, but the sound is exquisite, and only further fuels the unfamiliar fiery feeling he’s experiencing. “But seriously, why are you staring at me?”

Your line of questioning makes sense to him now. He briefly considers lying to you, but on the spot he cannot think of anything convincing. “I slept last night.”

“I didn’t know Angels did that.” It’s not a question, but he has learned many human cues during his time on Earth. You’re digging for more information.

“We can, but we do not need to, so typically we don’t. I thought I might trial it to see if it would help in replenishing my grace.” He answers.

“Did it help?” Your inquisitiveness is ceaseless. It is something he has always liked about you.

“No.” He replies, he enjoys the brief frown of disappointment you give in response. “I did however, dream of you.”

“Ahh, and what did me and my quite adequate face do in your dream?” You’re smiling again as you scrub at a particularly stubborn stain. He notices the unintentionally alluring way you chew at your bottom lip and is immediately reminded of the way you had looked in his dream, as you waited in anticipation for him to expose his genitals.

He allows himself to wonder how you will react to his next statement; he hopes you’ll be as excited and pliable as you had been in his fantasy.  “You were nude, on your knees, performing fellatio on my, well, my vessels penis.”

“Oh!” You respond in a tone that he believes to be humorous and a little surprised. Until you look down at your knees, considering your precarious position. “Oooooh.”

You don’t say anything else, nor do you look back up at him. He begins to worry that he may have said something inappropriate, or that you thought he had disliked the experience.

“It was an enjoyable dream, if that is your concern.” He attempts to offer comfort.

“Well, I suppose that’s good news.” You nod to yourself; your tone gives nothing away. “I wonder if my real-life skills are as enjoyable as your fantasies.”

“I wouldn’t know, we have never…” His line of speech, his thoughts are interrupted by the enticing sight of you crawling towards him. “Oh.”

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

When Their GF Is Followed Home

Pairing : ot8 (separately) x f!reader TW : reader getting followed ; reader panicking ; honestly it's fluffy ; major anxiety though ; might be anxiety inducing or triggering ; Word Count : Bangchan (745) ; Minho (847) ; Changbin (747) ; Hyunjin (1370) ; Jisung (1396) ; Felix (1114) ; Seungmin (1564) ; Jeongin (1645) -TOTAL : 9.4k AN : this is entirely self indulgent and I will write my requests, this is kind of a coping mechanism for me. Thank you for being patient with me and for everyone who commented on my post about what had happened and I really do appreciate and love all of you. I won't tag my perm. tag list in this one because it isn't really a request or anything, it's just for me, but I'm gonna post it here just in case anyone else needs it or wants to read it.

You should have been home 5 minutes ago, he knew exactly the amount of time it took for you to get from your job to the house, and even if traffic was bad, it would only tack on an extra 3 or 4 minutes. It’s been 20 minutes since you told him you got out of work, and now he was starting to worry. Did you have to stay late? It wasn’t unlikely, but you’d usually tell him these things so he wouldn’t wait up for you at night. 

His phone started vibrating, and when he saw your name as the caller ID, he let out a little sigh of relief… Until he answered and he heard the sound of the car running, which wasn’t what he was used to considering you were a strict advocate of not using your phone while driving at all. Then he heard your heavy breaths and your sniffling. You were crying. “Channie…” You whispered, the sound of his name shaky when it left your lips. “I’m being followed… I don’t know what to do…” 

The panic that he initially felt came back tenfold, he felt like he couldn’t breathe, and the worst part was that there was nothing he could do. It’s not like he’d tell you to stop the car so he could get to you, he didn’t know what the person following you was capable of or even what they planned on doing. “Call the cops… Okay? Call the cops and go back to your work. Stay in your car… Lock the doors and keep the windows up.” 

You gasped before he heard the loud sob, he was terrified just hearing about it, he couldn’t even begin to imagine how you felt right now. “O-Okay… Bye… I… I love you…” You stammered, and the way you said it only had him freaking out even more. It sounded like you were saying goodbye to him, not like you normally would, but like a final goodbye. 

He knew where you were going, and he couldn’t, he just couldn’t sit at home and wait. He needed to know right then that you were okay, so he grabbed his keys, not even bothering to change into his shoes, running straight out the door and climbing in his car, racing towards your work. His own hands were shaking as his fingers wrapped around the steering wheel, his entire body was trembling as his head filled with the worst thoughts of what could have happened to you. 

The ride to your work was actually quite short, just a couple blocks, but right now it felt like it took forever to get there, but once he was finally in the parking lot, he could see that you were parked right out front. He pulled his car around to park behind you, quickly climbing out to run over to yours. 

It was heartbreaking to see the way you jumped when he got up to the window, the way your body was still shaking and your one hand still wrapped around the wheel in a vice grip as if you were ready to speed off if that person did come back. Once you realized it was him though, you rolled your window down, and then he really saw you. 

Your eyes were bloodshot and you were practically hyperventilating. “I-It’s my b-boyfriend…” You said to whoever it was on the phone, and when he glanced at it, he could see that you were still on the phone with the police. “I’ll hang up now… Thank you…” You whispered before ending the call and then looking up at him with the glassiest eyes, the saddest eyes, and all he wanted to do was hold you, to tell you that everything would be okay. “An officer is… on the way… right now…” 

“I’ll stay here with you, I’m not leaving you.” He assured you, grabbing your hand through the window and leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t help… I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I promise I won’t let anything like that happen ever again.” And now he was crying, you both were crying as you sat in the parking lot, but that promise that he made was one that he’d stick to and keep forever. You were the most precious thing in his life and he’d make sure that you never have to go through something like that ever again.

It was a late night in the practice room, another comeback and he wanted this one to be just as powerful as the last so he was practicing his dances as much as he could. He was taking a small break, resting against the mirrored walls of the room when his phone started vibrating on the floor beside him, the sight of your name and picture on his screen had all of his exhaustion washing away and a smile spreading across his face. 

“You know I love you… Right…?” Was the first thing you said as soon as he answered the phone, and the question alone had his heart sinking, but the way you said it, the way you sounded, he knew that something was wrong. “I’m headed back up to my work right now… I just wanted you to know that I love you so much… Give the cats kisses for me. I gotta go though… I’ll text you when I can…” 

The call ended before he was even able to say anything, but it was all so cryptic, it scared the hell out of him. Whatever was happening, he could tell that you were beyond scared, and for some reason you were saying your final goodbyes, and that had him pushing himself up off the floor and rushing out of the practice room and down the hall to the elevators. 

He was pissed at himself for staying at work so late, the building was on the complete opposite side of town, there was no way in hell he was going to make it to you. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, and all of the texts that he was sending didn’t seem to be going through because you weren’t answering any of them. He felt physically sick, like the entire room was spinning and his knees felt weak and he couldn’t breathe and he really just wanted to hear from you, to know that you were okay. 

“You shouldn’t be on your phone while you’re driving, you could cause an accident, Min.” He remembered the way you’d scold him from the passenger seat if he even reached for his phone while his car was in motion. That little memory only scared him more because he heard the sound of your engine running in the background of the call, you were on your phone while you were driving… Or maybe… Maybe you weren’t driving… Maybe it was someone else… His stomach sank deeper at the thought. There had been so many stories coming out recently about things that happened to unsuspecting people… You were so nice, so naive… He needed you to answer him, he needed you to text him back. 

20 minutes had passed since the initial phone call, he had sent you so many texts, and you finally answered him. “Heading home now… I’m sorry.” He was standing at the front door, waiting for your car to pull up, and when it did, there was an officer driving behind you. His heart was racing as he ran out of the house barefoot, not even caring as he ran out into the street to pull open your door, sighing heavily when he saw you sitting there. “What happened…?” He whispered, his hands landing on your shoulders as you climbed out of the car, and he couldn’t not notice how puffy and red your eyes were, but instead of answering, you fell against his chest, your arms wrapping tightly around him. 

The officer had to take some information, and once Minho had thanked him for escorting you home, he walked you into the house, pulling you down on the couch beside him. You told him what had happened, and he went through an array of emotions. Anger, sadness, panic, but most of all, he felt downright awful. 

“Why didn’t you tell me that’s what was happening?” He questioned as you laid against his chest, your fingers gripping tightly onto his shirt as your body continued to tremble. The fear that you had felt still hadn’t left, and he was sure it would be there for a while, and rightfully so. 

“Because I didn’t want you to get hurt trying to race to my job… I know how you are. I just wanted you to know that I love you…” You whispered back, your voice cracking as you started to cry once again. “I know that you love me, and I love you too, so much. I’m gonna drive you to and from work now… I can’t have anything happening to you… I’ve never been so scared in my life.” He murmured, his hand running soothingly up and down your back. Now that he knew you were safe, that fear and desperation that he had felt subsided but quickly turned to anger. He wanted nothing more than to hunt this guy down, to find out who it was and make him feel the same way you felt. You’re his everything, and he was going to do right by you no matter what it takes.

He was in the studio with Chan and Jisung, his phone muted so as to not ruin the recording process. Maybe he had just become complacent in the fact that nothing had ever happened before when you were on your way home, but he never felt the need to have his phone turned on when you were at work or while he was at the studio and you knew that. You’d text him at some point if you had the chance and vice versa, but you both knew that once the two of you were home you’d have so much to talk about it would keep you up for hours. 

“I’m gonna head out now, Y/N should be home by now.” Changbin said, getting up from his chair and stretching his arms above his head. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” He was always the first to come in and get things started so that he could be the first to leave, not wanting you to be at home alone for too long. 

On his venture to the elevator, he finally pulled out his phone, noticing that his lockscreen was filled with missed calls from you from over an hour ago, and then a text from you from 25 minutes ago. You would never call him that much when he was in the studio… Unless there was an emergency… But there were never any emergencies. You worked right down the street from the house, what could possibly happen in that short amount of time? Unless there was an emergency in your job and you were trying to call him. 

Before even checking the text, he called you back, opting to take the stairs just to get out of the building faster as he held his phone up to his ear, waiting to hear your voice. “Binnie… I’m sorry I called so much… I’m okay now.” You whispered into your phone, and there was nothing truly relieving about what you said. You being okay now meant that you hadn’t been okay before and he wasn’t there to help you or even answer your calls when you needed him to. 

“What happened?” He urged, pushing through the exit door on the side of the building and coming out into the parking lot, slightly breathless from the amount of stairs he had just sprinted down in a matter of minutes. “Did you get hurt? Are you home? Where are you right now?” He needed more answers, but all he could hear were your shaky breaths over the line. “Baby… Talk to me, please.” 

He was getting more panicked the longer you stayed silent, and he could hear you softly sniffling as if you were crying. “I’m home… Not hurt… An officer escorted me home. I’ll tell you about it when you get in… Okay? I don’t want to talk about it when I’m by myself…” 

When he finally made it home and came through the door you were waiting for him right beside it, your cheeks stained with tear streaks, and you crashed into him as your body shook with uncontrollable sobs. “Shh… It’s okay… I’m here now…” He cooed, rubbing his hand soothingly over your back, although he still wasn’t sure what had truly happened, it must have been awful for you to be like this. “Tell me what happened…” 

As he sat and listened to you, all he could imagine was how scared you must have been. You were still shaking and you were already home, it must have been downright terrifying to be going through it at that moment. He wanted to know everything about what you possibly could have seen, what was the make of the car, what did the driver look like… He wanted to know every single detail. “Don’t try to find him… It’s not worth it…” You said shakily, holding tightly onto his hand. “It’s over now…” 

But it wasn’t over… Because you hadn’t seen the plate numbers, and all you could go off of was a vehicle description, and whoever this guy was… He was still out there. He could do it to someone else, he could come back and do it to you again… Changbin didn’t want to take those chances. For now though, he agreed, because he wanted to take care of you and make sure you were alright and make sure you felt safe. One thing he was certain about though… He’d never put his phone on silent again.

“I’m in my car now, I’ll text you when I get in the house. I love you!” The text came in and Hyunjin read it quickly, smiling to himself as he sank deeper into the couch at the dorms. You hadn’t been together very long, at least not long enough to take that step to moving in together, but he liked to know exactly when you got off work and exactly when you made it home. The second text that he had gotten used to, that he had timed almost perfectly to come in at least 7 to 10 minutes after the first text meant that you were safe and he’d finally be able to call you on the phone and hear your voice. 

When it went past 15 minutes and that second text didn’t come in, his initial thought was that you had just forgotten. Maybe work was just really tiring today and you ended up laying on the couch and passing out… But that didn’t make sense either… You’ve had days like that before and you still texted him to let him know you made it home safe… You just weren’t able to call him because you had gone straight to bed right after. 

“Hey honey… Did you make it home? Text me as soon as you can… I’m getting worried.” He quickly typed out the message, dropping his phone onto his lap as he nervously watched his screen. There were some nights that you’d stop at the store or the gas station on your way home, but even then, you’d text him beforehand that you planned on going there before going home, and then you’d text him when you made it to whatever destination you were headed to. 

After 5 minutes of you still not responding he couldn’t take it anymore, dialing your number quickly and heading to the front door. You had never gone this long without answering him, and you certainly wouldn’t have ignored a phone call from him. He even had his own special ringtone in your phone so you’d know it was him. Something must have happened, and his mind immediately jumped to the worst. 

“What’s going on?” Chan asked as he turned the corner from the kitchen, watching Hyunjin pull on his shoes. “You’re heading out?” Hyunjin never left this late at night, he’d usually already be in his room talking on the phone with you, his giddy voice heard through the walls, giving Jisung and Changbin perfect ammunition to tease him with the next morning. 

“Y/N hasn’t texted me to let me know she made it home… She didn’t answer my text or my call…” Hyunjin said, frantically looking around the room as if he was missing something, but it was just his phone which was still in his hand. He felt like a chicken running around with his head cut off, but the panic seemed reasonable at this point. “Can you drive me to her place?” Hyunjin asked, his eyes silently pleading with his hyung to say yes. 

“I’m sure she’s fine. She’s probably just stuck in-” 

“No! She lives in a residential area… Her work is only a couple blocks away… She doesn’t have to go through traffic! Something happened!” Hyunjin shrieked, running his hands through his hair. “Look, if you’re not going to take me to her house, fine… I’ll catch a cab or something. But I need to be there. I need to make sure she’s alright.” 

So Chan relented, grabbing his keys off the hook and following Hyunjin out the door, trying his best to keep up with the younger guy who seemed to be racing against time as he ran down the hall to the stairs. 

In Hyunjins hurry to leave the dorms, he had forgotten to grab the key you had given him to get into your house, but he knew you weren’t home yet. The lights weren’t shining through the blinds in the window, there were no lights on at all. Your dog was still barking at the front door as he and Chan sat on your front porch. But what really gave away that you weren’t home was the fact that your car wasn’t parked out front. 

Every single set of headlights that came around the bend had Hyunjin standing up, checking to see if it were you only to dejectedly sit back down as the car sped past. You still hadn’t texted him back and his heart continued to sink deeper and deeper into the pit of his stomach the longer the silence lasted. 

Two sets of headlights came around, both of them lighting up the street, and this time Hyunjin didn’t even bother to stand up, his head dropping back down to stare at his phone screen as he expected them to drive right by like the other cars did… Until the car in front parked right in front of your house, and he realized that the car that had been driving behind was a cop car. 

He pushed himself up off the stairs, tripping over his feet as he ran down to meet you outside of your car, practically pulling you out of it once your seatbelt was unlatched. “Oh my baby… What happened?!” He cried, his eyes already welling up as he looked you over, checking for any sign of injury or harm, but all he could see was that you had been crying, you were still crying. “Baby…?” His voice lowered a little more as he looked at you with worry filled eyes, his bottom lip jutting out. 

“I am going to need some information. Your license and your phone number.” The cop said, and Hyunjins eyes widened. Did you get into an accident? Your car didn’t look damaged or dented, and you’d have surely called him if something like that did happen. He watched as you handed over your license to the officer, your hands trembling and your breaths shallow and uneven. “If something like that ever happens again, if you see that car or the driver, just call that number…” The officer handed you a tiny white card and gave you a sympathetic smile. “You’re okay, everything is gonna be okay.” 

He was more confused than ever now as he watched the officer climb back in his car, but he didn’t take the time to watch him drive away, quickly grabbing your bag and then leading you up to your house. “I’m sorry… Sorry for worrying you…” You croaked out as you kicked your shoes off and dropped down onto the couch, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks. 

“No… Don’t apologize…” Hyunjin squatted down in front of you, grabbing both of your hands and giving them a light squeeze. “The cop followed you home… What happened? Why?” He questioned, kissing the back of your hands before cupping your cheeks, brushing away your tears with his thumbs. 

“I was… followed home… I had to go all the way around… And they kept following me. They blinded me with their high beams and… I called the cops. I didn’t know what to do… I drove back up to work…” You explained, your breaths coming out more heavy, your words broken up by loud sobs as your head fell forward. “I was so scared, Hyunjin…” 

He didn’t say anything, instead he scurried up onto the couch, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you onto his lap, his hand moving up to the back of your head to bury your face in the crook of his neck. Hot tears fell against his skin as he rocked you, whispering I love you’s as he held you close against him. 

There wasn’t much he could do, it had already happened, it’s not like he would have been able to stop it. Now all he could do was try to fight that fear, to make you feel safe again. It wouldn’t be easy, but nothing worth fighting for was ever easy. “I’m moving in… I don’t want you to be alone. Text me when you get off work and I’ll get a ride down there just so I can ride with you back home. This’ll never happen again, I swear.”

The problem with being out of the country for tours was the fact that he couldn’t bring you with him. Not only was it protocol from his staff members and management themselves, but your work didn’t really allow you that much time off. Whenever he was away, the two of you depended on texts, calls, and video chats to talk to each other, and with him being so far away, he liked to know everything. He wanted minute by minute updates on how your day was going and whether you made it to and from work safely. The guys would always tease him and say he’s being a little redundant, but there’s nothing wrong with wanting to make sure the person you love is okay. 

Your work schedule was never consistent either, which sometimes made it hard for Jisung to relax. Sometimes you’d get off work at 8pm, and other times you wouldn’t even be leaving the building until 11pm. It just depended on how much you had to do, and that would leave him restless, waiting for your text to come in to let him know you were on your way home. 

Tonight seemed to be a late night, and even though he wasn’t back at the house waiting for you, he couldn’t help but anxiously look over at his phone every couple seconds to see if your text had come in. He was about to start a live stream, it was already 10:40pm where you were, and there hadn’t been a single text yet, so he decided to text you. 

“Hey pookie bear, I’m about to start the live. You can still text me to let me know when you get off and please let me know when you get home. I love you so so so much!! I can’t wait to be back home with you!” He quickly sent the text before setting his phone down to the side to start the stream, trying his best to shake the nerves so he could turn on the camera. 

15 minutes into the stream his phone started vibrating. It wasn’t a text, it was a phone call coming in, and one glance over had him reading your name. Maybe you hadn’t read his text, but you usually didn’t call him during a stream, and you rarely ever called him when you were on your way home, and he still hadn’t texted him… Something must be wrong. He looked to the staff member who seemed just as confused on what to do, but he decided to answer it anyway. He wasn’t going to just let it go to voicemail. 

“Sungie… Baby…” Your voice came through softly, slightly muffled by the sound of the car engine humming in the background. “I love you so much… You mean the world to me, and you’re so special, you’re so amazing at everything you do… And I’m just… I’m so lucky that you’re my boyfriend, and I really wish I could spend the rest of my life with you… I just wanted you to know that. I have to go now though… I’ll text you if I can… Love you…” 

Now, Jisung was rarely ever stunned into silence, but this call had him staring blankly at the staff behind the camera who hadn’t heard anything. The call ended so quickly, but you were clearly panicking, you were crying, and he had never felt so hopeless in his life. He was thousands of miles away, and now you weren’t answering any of his calls. “The fans are wondering where you went…” The staff member said, but how was he supposed to worry about the fans when you were clearly in trouble, or hurt, or both. 

“I don’t know if I can… I…” Jisung stammered, running his hands over his face, feeling his palms get dampened with the tears that had started to fall. “Y/N is in trouble and I really need to try to get a hold of her… I can’t get back on like this… I’m scared.” He explained, but the staff member rolled his eyes, coming over with a box of tissues and setting it down in front of Jisung before flicking back on the camera. 

He didn’t have a choice it felt, but once the camera was off and the stream was over, he’d be having a long talk with the managers about the staff member who clearly wasn’t concerned with anything but himself. For the time being, he pretended to read comments off his phone as he stared at the text screen, waiting for you to say something, anything, to let him know that you were okay. 

It felt like forever, but in actuality, it was only another 10 minutes before another one of your texts came in. “I’m home now… A cop followed me home to make sure I’d be okay. I don’t want to worry you, it’s over with now, but I know that you’ll still ask, but I was followed home… I’ll explain everything when I get the chance to, but right now I just want to take a shower and go to bed. I love you… I can’t wait to see you either.” 

The text wasn’t in any way helpful, it actually made him feel nauseous, knowing that he wasn’t there when you had clearly been through something so traumatic that it made you feel like you had to call him just to say goodbye. The stream was still going, but he couldn’t be bothered to focus on it anymore, his attention solely on his phone screen as he continued to read and reread the message. He couldn’t keep up the act though, and once he had fully processed what he read, he looked to the camera. “I have to go now, there’s an emergency. I’m sorry… Please be safe, STAY. I love all of you.” 

As soon as the camera was off and the live stream ended, the staff member was pissed, but Jisung was just as angry. He was angry at himself, angry at the guy who was now coming closer to grab the laptop who had selfishly forced him to continue to live stream. “This is ridiculous. I’m sure the managers are gonna be real happy, especially ending a stream like that. I can only imagine the rumors that’ll come up.” 

Jisung didn’t care about any of that though, all he cared about was you. He pushed himself up out of the chair and headed to his hotel room door, pulling it open and motioning for the staff member to leave. “There is an emergency, and my girlfriend being terrified after being followed home when she was leaving work isn’t ridiculous. She’s terrified and I’m not there to physically comfort her and the last thing I want to do is a fucking live stream pretending that everything is all sunshine and rainbows. So get out, I have to call her.” 

Since you were okay, Jisung couldn’t exactly use your fear as a reason to leave the tour early, much to his disappointment. He wanted you to come out to be with him though, even if only for a couple days to help get your mind off of what had happened, but of course, you were still needed at work and your job really didn’t care that you had gone through something like that… Which again, made Jisung hate your job more than he already did. 

The distance seemed to feel so much further after what happened though, and there was nothing that would make him fully relax until he got home. For now though, you both agreed to stay on the phone with one another whenever you were driving, even if he was on a stream or in the middle of a concert, he’d stop everything he was doing to make sure you made it work and back home safe without something like this happening for a second time, and that agreement carried on even when he got home from tour… And now when you got home and he was there, he’d be waiting for you at the front door with open arms. That fear wouldn’t just stick with you, but it stuck with him too… The fear of losing you, of not knowing what to do… He never wanted either of you to feel that way again.

Your schedule was erratic to say the least, there was never a set time to you getting off, and Felix, being the sunshine that he is, trusted that you’d get home safe without any problems every single night that you did work. That’s why he didn’t expect you to call him or text him, he just believed that everything would be fine, and when you did get home, you’d let him know all about your day as he sat beside you on the couch. 

Tonight was no different, other than the fact that he was staying at the dorms because he had to head out early for a music video shoot the very next morning. You knew about this, and while you both hated being away from each other, you understood that his work was demanding, and sometimes it demanded that he be away from you for long periods of time. Instead of talking about your days in person tonight, you both had agreed on video calling each other, which was something that he was excitedly awaiting. 

When his phone started to buzz, he jumped off the couch and ran to his bedroom, shutting the door and locking it before answering and flopping down on his bed, a smile spread across his face as he waited to hear your usually cheerful greeting. “Felix…” You gasped out his name, and the happiness that he had expected to hear wasn’t there at all. He immediately went into panic mode, sitting upright on his bed and holding his phone closer to his ear. “I…I’m being followed, I don’t know what to do… I already drove past the house and… They’re still following me. They almost drove right into me… Felix I’m scared… What do I do?” 

You were audibly crying which had his own tears on the brink of falling over the edge, his fingers gripping the sheets tightly as his leg bounced over the side of the bed. “Hang up, angel… Call the police. You have to call the cops, right now… Okay?” He urged, or, moreso, demanded you to do. He hated the fact that he told you to hang up, but he knew that there was nothing he could do from where he was at right now. 

“Y-Yeah… Okay… I love you.” Was how the call ended, not even having the opportunity to say it back. He couldn’t sit still, adrenaline was coursing through his veins, and he wanted to go to you, he wanted to go to your apartment and wait for you there just to know that you made it home safe. The worst part was that he didn’t even know where you were going right now, he should have asked, but he didn’t want to waste anymore time which was essential to you and your safety at that moment. 

He couldn’t even stand to be cramped in his room that felt a little bit too small right now, walking out into the main room where the guys were sitting, and as if his emotions were like a cloud that had hit all of them at once, their heads lifted to look at him, questioning the tension that was radiating off of him in waves. “Y/N is being followed… Fuck! I don’t even know where she’s at right now… And she’s on the phone with the cops… I can’t call her…” He ranted, his hands running anxiously through his hair. 

“Do you want to drive out there to her apartment to make sure she makes it home? I can drive you there.” Minho offered, and Felix looked around the room once before nodding his head in agreement, shuffling over to the door and pulling on the first pair of shoes he could find. “I’m sure she’ll be okay. She’s a smart girl, she probably went back to her work.” His hyung tried his best to instill comforting thoughts, but Felix couldn’t stop thinking the worst. 

“Why would anyone follow her? Why would someone try to scare her like that? They could have caused her to get in an accident! What if they were trying to hurt her?!” Felix continued to ramble, and there was truly nothing that anyone could say to get him to think otherwise, not until he saw you again and made sure that you were truly okay. 

Just as Minho pulled up outside the apartment building, you were pulling into your parking spot, followed by an officer who parked a little further away. You seemed to be in a daze when you climbed out of the car, not even noticing that Felix and Minho were right there. Your keys jingled at your side from how much you were shaking, and he hated seeing you this way. He hated to know that someone, some stranger, had caused you to get like this. 

“Angel…” Felix blurted out, causing you to jump and drop your keys, which he rushed over to pick up off the ground before you could even begin to bend over to grab them. “You’re alright?” He questioned, holding you at arms length to check you over, and once he saw that you were okay, other than the crying, he pulled you against his chest. “You’re alright. You’re safe now…” He cooed, not even wanting to let you go for a minute to get out of the street and walk you into the apartment. 

“It was awful… I’ve never been more scared… My hands were shaking… I never use my phone while I’m driving… I couldn’t even focus… I thought I’d crash…” You choked out, your face still buried in his shirt as he continued to pet his hand over your hair. “He… He flashed his headlights at me… And I wasn’t going to stop… I just kept going… And I was scared my gas would run out and…” 

Felix shushed you, not wanting you to continue reliving those moments, at least not right now. You were safe with him, you were okay, although the mention of the headlights had him remembering a news report he had seen a while back about what that sometimes meant and it made him sick to his stomach. “You’re such a smart girl, angel… You did great. I’m gonna stay with you tonight, and all day tomorrow. I’ll head to the set the next day. I’m gonna get you one of those dash cameras… I gotta make sure my angel is safe, always.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, giving you a soft sympathetic smile. “Let’s get inside, get you something to drink, and then we can lay down and cuddle for the rest of the night… How does that sound?”

“What time do you think you’re getting off tonight?” Seungmin asked from the back room, the stylist working around his phone that he had held up to his ear. Hearing your voice always helped calm his nerves before he did an interview, although he’d never tell anyone else that. 

“Not sure… It’s a late night tonight. I’ve got a bunch of stuff to do when I finish actually working.” You answered dejectedly. Seungmin hated how much your job seemed to overwork you, and it wasn’t just that, but they didn’t even show any sort of appreciation for the things that you did. There was no raise in your near future, although Seungmin would always be the first one demanding that you get one whenever you brought it up. No one even thanked you, it’s like they simply expected it of you, which pissed him off. 

“You know that I’d take care of you. You don’t have to stay there.” He reminded you, and he heard your tired chuckle, one that usually meant that you wanted to take him up on the offer, but you couldn’t take him up on the offer either, and that’s why he never pushed the issue any further. “I’m doing an interview, but you know the number for the staff if there’s an emergency, right?” You hummed in agreement, and he sighed quietly. “Text me as soon as you get off work and as soon as you get through the front door. Okay?” 

“Alright. I love you.” You whispered, and you couldn’t see it, but his cheeks raised and turned a light shade of pink, his heart fluttering at those three words. You were the only person that could ever make him get like this. “I gotta get back to work. I can’t wait to hear about the interview tonight.” 

“Mm… I’ll tell you all about it. Don’t overwork yourself… And don’t play your music too loud in the car, you won’t be able to hear anything.” He preemptively scolded you, and he knew that you were rolling your eyes, but you always played your music a little bit too loud… Something that worried him when he knew you were driving home alone at night. He wished that he could be there waiting for you when you got home, but he’d be there soon enough, and that’s what was going to get him through the interview. 

About 30 minutes into the interview, Seungmin saw one of the staff members bring their phone up to their ear, their mouths immediately falling as they listened to whatever it was that was going on. Seungmin was observant, but he wouldn’t have thought anything of it if the member didn’t make direct eye contact with him before walking further away from the interview set. 

None of the other guys seemed to notice, and neither did the interviewer, they were all still talking and goofing off, making it harder for Seungmin to even try to hear what was being said. “I’m not feeling too well, can I have a minute?” He said, still staring at the staff member who seemed to be on the phone still. The guys all turned to look at him, but he didn’t have time to answer their questions, not when he had his own that he needed answers to. 

By the time he got up and made his way over to the staff member, the call seemed to be over, but the girl who had answered the call seemed to still be a little shaken up. Whatever it was, it must be bad. Once she noticed he was standing there, her head was already shaking, her mouth opening and closing as if she didn’t know what to say, which only annoyed Seungmin. If it was serious, he wanted to know right now. “She called… Y/N called… She was crying and panicking and… She said she was being followed and… She said she’s on her way back to her work now and she’s calling the police… I told her to call them…” 

Seungmins mind was immediately going through different scenarios, a multitude of different reasons for something like this to be happening. He was trying to be as rational as possible, which was quite hard to do when the worry was setting in and he felt absolutely helpless as your boyfriend. “Good… Good… That’s good…” He rambled, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to think of what to do. “Let them know that I need to go… I need to get up to her work right now…” 

There was only a short list of people that would follow you and have you panicking so badly. It was either a crazed fan that wanted to get to Seungmin or wanted to hurt you for being with him, or some absolute psychotic stranger. Crazily enough, it would be better if it were a fan honestly, at least Seungmin would know the motive and knew that most of them were hopefully not dumb enough to do something crazy in a public space such as your work. If it were a stranger… He didn’t know what they were capable of, and that scared the hell out of him. 

It felt like he was racing against time, and in that race, the staff member that was driving seemed to catch every single red light. It was aggravating, it was infuriating, and what was worse was the fact that you still hadn’t answered any of his texts which he had been sending out every five seconds, and the only reason it was taking that long was because he needed to type them out. 

By the time he got to your work, the cop was just pulling up. You had been sitting out in your car in front of the store for that long just waiting for an officer, and that too bothered him to no end. What if something bad had happened? Why didn’t the officer come quicker? He didn’t even wait for the car to come to a complete stop before jumping out and running over to your passenger door and knocking on the window. 

“Excuse me!” The officer shouted, rushing over to Seungmin, but you quickly rolled down the window, exclaiming that he was your boyfriend and unlocking the door so he could climb in. Of course, the officer needed to take down some information which seemed to take even longer when all Seungmin wanted to do was get back to the house with you and comfort you. 

“I didn’t want to ruin the interview…” You murmured as you put the car in drive, slowly taking off and heading back down the street. “I didn’t think they’d tell you… I’m sorry for making you leave.” If you weren’t driving, Seungmin would have kissed you to get you to stop thinking that way. An interview definitely wasn’t more important than your safety. “Are the guys mad?” 

Seungmin sighed, his head leaning back against the headrest but turned in your direction so he could look at you. Your knuckles had turned pale from how tight you were gripping the steering wheel, and your body was still shaking. You shouldn’t be driving like this. “This would be quite a stupid thing to get mad about, wouldn’t it? If you need me, I’m always going to run to you, before anything else. You’re my priority first and foremost.” He explained, and you nodded your head slowly, shakily sniffling as your bottom lip began to tremble. “I love you… That’s why I ran to you. She didn’t even have to tell me what was going on… As soon as she looked at me and I saw that look on her face, I asked her what happened. I’m so sorry you had to go through that by yourself… But never again…” 

You shook your head, your face scrunching up as you gasped sharply. “I still have to drive at night to get home from work. I… I don’t know if I can… Just the thought of it…” Your head dropped as you came to a stop sign, your hands quickly wiping the tears from your cheeks, and he wished he could have done it for you. “I’ve never… I don’t ever… God… Seungmin I’m so scared… What if they do it again?” If it were to happen again, if the same person were to come after you… Seungmin wouldn’t hold back. They were messing with the most precious thing in his life, and the fact that they had gotten away with it now, they should count themselves lucky. But Seungmin wouldn’t allow it to happen again, he wouldn’t allow you to be put in a situation where it could happen again. “I know you, for some reason, feel like you need to stay at your job. I’m not going to take that away from you… But I don’t want you driving at night by yourself again… Ever again. I’ll have one of the staff members come pick you up. Or I’ll have them drop me off so that I can ride with you. Either way… If you truly want to keep working there on that shift… You’re not driving alone at night anymore. I love you, and I don’t think I’d be able to live if anything ever happened to you. I’m going to make sure you’re safe. Always.”

He was performing tonight on Music Bank, and you had told him that you’d try to make it home in time to catch his performance. Of course, he told you it would be okay if you didn’t, and that he didn’t want you rushing to get done and potentially getting hurt trying to get home too fast. He already had your TV set up to record their episode just in case you weren’t home in time to see it. 

Your break managed to come at just the time that he was getting done up by his stylist, sending you silly little selfies to try to make you feel better after you had told him about how awful and busy your day had been. “I’m hoping I’ll be done soon, and then I can get home and change into my pajamas before the show starts.” 

Even though it made him beyond happy to know that you so eagerly wanted to see him perform, he wanted you to be safe, and he appreciated you regardless of whether you caught the show or not, just the fact that you wanted to rush so you could catch it was enough for him. “You have time… So please, take it. You won’t miss anything anyway, you’ve already seen us perform it multiple times in the practice room.” 

He could sense your eye roll just from staring at his phone screen, the way his message was left on read a couple seconds before the three dots appeared to show you were typing back. “Yeaaaah…. But I still want to watch it. I’m ending my break early just so I can get done faster. I love youuuuu. Hugs and kisses mwah mwah!!” 

How could you be so cute even over text? God, he loved you, and now it only made him worry more about how fast you’d be driving to try to get back home. He quickly typed out his last response. “Please drive the speed limit. I love you most. Seriously… Be safe.” 

15 minutes before the show was about to start, he got another text, and he quickly grabbed his phone from off the vanity table, his heart swelling when he read your message. “I’m fast as fuck baybeeee!!! I’m gonna make it home in time to see your performance. I might not catch the interview before hand though :(“ 

He chuckled to himself, hiding his phone from the guys as he texted you back. “That’s alright, but now that I know you’ll be watching, I’ll do so much better. Get home safe baybeeee! I love you a bunch!” He never thought he’d be this sappy, but with you, it didn’t even make him cringe. He just loved you so damn much, it was like you alone were making his earth spin. 

It didn’t take you that long to get home, he knew the drive from your work to your house by heart, and he was sure that you’d be able to make it home just by the end of the interview. His mind was soaring, thinking of ways that he could do facial expressions or certain moves just for you, things that only you would recognize that you’d know were for you only. It was one of his favorite things to do, giving you something to look for while he was dancing, and then coming home to hear from you if you actually caught it. 

As he stepped out on stage, he found his camera and smiled at it, giving a small wave to the lens before getting into place. This performance would be for you, entirely for you. He couldn’t wait for you to see it. 

He was sweaty, breathless, but excited as he rushed back off to the dressing room, grabbing his phone off the vanity and getting even more giddy when he saw the missed phone call and voicemail from you. It was probably you telling him just how amazing he was and that you had caught the little hand sign and wink that he had done for you. 

Dropping down into his seat, he played the voicemail, full volume because honestly, he didn’t care if the guys heard. You’d probably be complimenting all of them as well in the message. “Jeongin!” Your voice sounded through his speakers, and he wasn’t used to you saying his name like that, especially with that tone, and he immediately perked up in his seat. The sound of your voice had already gotten the attention of the other guys in the room and they had all begun to crowd around Jeongins chair as they listened with him. “Fuck… Fuck fuck… What do you want?!” You whimpered, the sound of your obvious crying and clear panic had Jeongin on edge, his eyes widening as he looked up at Chan. “I love you… And I’m really sorry I didn’t get to catch your performance but I know you and the guys did amazing. Uhm… Shit… Okay… I’m being followed and… And I have to go but… I just wanted you to know that I love you, okay? Don’t forget that.” The kissy sound at the end of the call wasn’t how Jeongin remembered it sounding, but he couldn’t even focus entirely on that. 

You were being followed, and instead of calling the cops first, you called him. Why would you call him? How bad was it? The call came in almost 10 minutes ago. “Call her… See if she answers.” Chan urged, but Jeongin couldn’t seem to get his fingers to move, he couldn’t even seem to breathe evenly as his mind went into a frenzy. “Someone call her! Minho, Changbin, you get him to Y/N’s apartment, someone go find one of the security and go see if they can find out where she is.” 

Minho was on the phone in seconds, dialing your number as he and Changbin ushered a seemingly shellshocked Jeongin out of the room. He was shaking, his phone still tightly gripped in his hand as he robotically followed behind the guys. “Everything is gonna be okay. I’m like… 99% sure she’s okay.” Changbin said, patting Jeongins back as he climbed into the back seat of Changbins car. 

“What about the other 1%?” Jeongin whispered anxiously from the back as Changbin climbed into the car. The two older guys both turned to look at Jeongin, confused about the question, but his hand slapped against the seat beside him. “What about the 1%?! You said you were 99% sure that she’s okay… So what about the other 1%?!” 

Changbin took a deep breath, looking to Minho who only shook his head as he continued trying to call your phone that was going to voicemail as well. “Don’t think about the other 1%. She’s fine. Okay?” 

Jeongin was completely zoned out the entire ride to your house, unable to think of anything except your voicemail. He had never heard you sound so scared and that fear was contagious, he was terrified for you, with you. He didn’t even realize how long Changbin had been driving until the car came to a stop, and he finally looked out the window to see that it was parked right outside of your house. 

The light from the TV was flickering through the blinds, and without a word or a look back, he climbed out of the car and ran to your door, his fist coming down harshly against it. He immediately regretted it though, wondering if the sudden loud knocking would frighten you more, but the door swung open and he saw you, illuminated by the light of the room behind you, already dressed in your pajamas, but your eyes were still puffy and your nose was still sniffling. You had been crying still. 

“Innie…” You croaked out his name, and he quickly pulled you into his arms, inhaling the scent of you, simply wanting to hold you after being worried for so long that he had lost you. “I’m sorry I missed it… I was watching it though… Just now…” 

He sighed softly, shaking his head as he tilted your back with his finger, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “I’m not worried about that. God… I’m just… I’m happy that you’re okay. I don’t know what I’d do if something had happened to you…” But he cut himself off, biting his bottom lip to keep from pessimistically rambling about all of the awful things that could have happened. “You’re okay though? Not hurt?” 

You shook your head in response, giving him a small smile. “Just a little shaken up… You’re here now though… I feel a lot better.” You were acting so strong, and he knew that you were only doing it because you could see how scared he had been. “I shouldn’t have called you and worried you like that… It was a… Just in case call… So that you’d know that-” 

He kissed you again, stopping you from continuing that thought. “I’m glad you called me…” He kissed you again, his hands cupping your cheeks now as he brushed his thumbs along your dampened cheeks. “But I want you to call the police first if anything like that happens again… I really want you to move to the morning shift so that nothing like that happens again…” You nodded your head slowly as your sniffles subsided until they weren’t heard anymore. “And I’m gonna get my permit… I’m gonna learn how to drive, I’ll have the guys teach me… I don’t want you driving by yourself anymore. I’ll be your personal chauffeur. Until then… I’ll just ride with you and wait up at your work until you get off.” You scoffed, but he wasn’t joking, and you quickly realized that. “You don’t know how worried I was… I wouldn’t be able to live anymore if you were gone.”

[scenteddelusion5]

Hello there! I do hope you are doing well! I was wondering if I could request a Hazbin Hotel imagine with Alastor x reader? Maybe the reader works at the Hotel and has for some time but is missing her life back with the living, so she heads to the kitchen to make some comfort food. Reader is from the South like Louisiana or Mississippi and makes Jambalaya. As she is cooking and dancing around the kitchen, Alastor is drawn in by the familiar smells and sit down and lots of fluff ensues? Maybe they get together at the end? Thank you so much and have a wonderful day/night! :)

One O'Clock Dinner

Alastor x homesick fem reader

Note: I decided to just have Y/n be from New Orleans as I'm not too familiar with United States' topography. Not my greatest work but still enjoyable!

Word count: 2174

Alastor definitely wasn't your ordinary demon. He was a ruthless overlord that concurred hell when he just arrived. His terrifying broadcasts were planted in almost everyone's memory, well except those that died when he had mysteriously disappeared. One of them was a certain demon from Louisiana.

Y/n had lived in New Orleans since she was a baby and never knew a different home until the day she died and was cast down to hell. She knew she wasn't the best person during her life but she wouldn't really consider herself so bad to be cast down to hell for eternity, a decade in purgatory maybe. Alas purgatory did not exist, so she was stuck there.

Until half a year after she arrived, she saw a news broadcast of Charlie Morningstar and her redemption program. Everyone had laughed at the princess but Y/n saw this as her chance. She made her way over and signed into the Happy Hotel.

Th Radio Demon knocked on the door only a few minutes after she had checked in.

"Alastor, darling, pleasure to be meeting you! Quite the pleasure!"

Y/n had heard whispers about him but nothing that went into detail, so she eavesdropping on Vaggie telling the story to Angel. The man seemed very dangerous. Maybe coming here wasn't such a good idea after all.

"So we're is your hotel staff?"

Charlie had agreed to take Alastor's help and now he was going around the room seeing what everyone could do.

"What about you, dear?" He had seemingly teleported right in front of Y/n, startling her.

"I-" She stumbled over her words as the Radio Demon's big red eyes were right staring at her. "-I can cook, I guess."

"Wonderful! As for the rest, I suppose I can cash in a few favours." He proceeded to summon a cat, bat like demon who became the bartender and front desk personnel, and a small cyclops demon who would take care of all the cleaning.

As much as she started to enjoy being around these people, Y/n quickly became tired as she had never been able to rest easily after landing in hell.

Before she could leave, however, the wall was blown up. A zappelin floated high on the sky. The demon inside it challenged Alastor but was easily defeated by the overlord.

She stared at the left over rubble. "I'm going to bed." Y/n swiftly left and made her way upstairs to her room.

A week went by and everywhere she went, Y/n felled someone staring at her in the shadows. She wasn't sure who nor why they were interested in her. It was making her squeezy, so much so that every time someone tried to talk to her, she jumped.

"Sorry Angel, didn't see you there!"

"Nifty! Where did you come from?"

"Oh! Husk, right just Husk."

The worst time it happened she was walking up the stairs, looking over her shoulder to search for whomever was following her. Y/n walked right into someone and almost fell from the stairs. Luckily that person caught her.

"You ought to look where you're going darling!" The Radio Demon helped her up the rest of the staircase. "Can't have our staff get hurt, you would be difficult to replace!"

"I'm sure there are other demons in hell who can cook. Besides didn’t you cook the other day?" She asked.

"Well yes, but they wouldn't be half as interesting as you!" Alastor smiled.

When Alastor had first arrived he saw her sitting there. The demon didn't seem to recognize him, sitting in her own little world. He had to admit that the girl was attractive but that wasn't what irked him, no, there was something about her.

From that day on he started observing Y/n, trying to figure out what was so special about her. He had found out she just died half a year ago. He learned about her skills and hobby's, he also had to admit that her cooking was amazing. Maybe even better than his, maybe.

The only reason the Radio Demon had kept his cooking in higher regard was because hadn't tasted any of her southern Louisianan dishes.

Alastor was watching her form the other side of the room. Y/n looked around while walking up the stairs, when she slipped. He quickly moved through the shadows and caught the girl. Her wide eyes were looking up at him. The Radio Demon couldn't get enough of them. How he wished to steal those eyes... He swiftly said his goodbye and disappeared into his room.

Why did he do that? There was no reason to intervene, but he did like the feeling of holding them... Alastor started to scold himself. Perhaps he is just hungry? He hadn't eaten demon for quite some time.

That night he went out and hunted down his victim. The first floor was empty, everyone was asleep. Alastor brought his bag of 'groceries' to the kitchen. He grabbed the left-overs of that night's dinner and mixed in the fresh meat. The mixture of his favourite food and Y/n's cooking was heavenly.

Even when his hunger was satiated, Alastor couldn't stop thinking about her. Something was definitely wrong with him. He kept think about her, her stupid smile and her jokes. The Radio Demon hadn't actually held many conversations with the girl but he had stalked observed her enough to know what kind of person she is.

Alastor knew her and yet, he craved for more. To not only be around her but to make her smile, genuinely smile, and to understand her.

Another two weeks went by and the horrible feeling of being watched only got worse. Now the spectator was even following Y/n into her room. She became more and more reserved, didn't even introduce herself when sir Pentious joined the hotel. Y/n started crying herself to sleep at night, she wished she was still alive with her family. She missed them.

Unconsciously she made her way to the kitchen and rummaged through the fridge. She was craving the food from her home and by chance she had just the right ingredients. Y/n put on her apron.

The Radio Demon was pacing around the room. Y/n hadn't been her usual charming self for the past week. She was quiet and always looking around. It made his gut wrench, what could she be so hung up about that she was crying herself to sleep?

Alastor's curiosity had grown to an obsession and he knew it. He didn't just want her to be happy, he needed her to be happy. When she wasn't, he was restless.

As the Radio Demon was weighing his options, a familiar scent attacked his nostrils. It gave him a moment of peace. He made his way down the stairs, following the smell like he was in a trance.

Someone was singing in the kitchen. He opened the door to find Y/n cooking and swaying to her own tune. For the first time in two weeks, Y/n had a smile on her face.

"And what are you cooking up at one in the morning?" Alastor looked over her shoulder. "You should be getting your beaty sleep, darling."

"I was just really craving it," Y/n explained after she got over the scare of him standing there all of a sudden. "I wasn't able to sleep."

"What are you making?"

"Just some Jambalaya." She lifted up the lid to show him. "I'm also preparing beignet's."

Alastor looked at the dough, which were waiting for the oil to heat up. "Louisianan?"

"Yeah, I'm from New Orleans." She lifted up one of the beignets and dropped it in the pan. "Learned from the best chefs in the city." The dough slowly turned a darker brown.

"That's such a coincidence! I grew up in Orleans too!" He took another whiff of the Jambalaya. "Mind if I join you?"

"If you set the table."

"It's a deal, my dear!" Alastor joked, even getting a chuckle out of the girl. The sound shot straight to his heart. Oh, how he wished his microphone had recorded it.

When the Jambalaya and the beignets were ready, the two sat down and ate VERY late dinner, or rather early breakfast. It was a surprisingly domestic scene. The two went along well.

"Yeah, I grew up in the big city too. Back then it looked a lot different though. It was overrun by secret speakeasies those were the days." He mused over the past.

"I wouldn't be able to imagine for those being illegal! Hey, what did you do to get send to hell?" Y/n so daringly asked. "I heard you were pretty powerful ever since you first got here."

"Oh well," Alastor blushed like a high school girl telling someone about their embarrassing crush, "I was a serial killer. Ate up my victims and threw their leftovers in the bayou."

Y/n spat out her drink. "Wait!" She screamed while coughing. "You are THAT Alastor. They teach about you in history classes!"

"Do they now? I suppose I was quite the man."

"I wouldn't say that," Y/n mumbled, "But it is impressive how you climbed up the ranks here in hell. I almost feel safe sitting around you." She looked at Alastor's widening smile again. "Almost."

"Why wouldn't you feel safe my dear?" Alastor questioned. "The Hazbin Hotel had both me and the princess of hell protecting it."

"I might sound... Crazy, but I feel like someone has been watching me." She looked down, even though she didn't feel the eyes on her right now. "I haven't been doing too well because of it."

The reason she hadn't been her usual self was because he was freaking her out. It all clicked now for the Radio Demon.

"Well then I have to apologise." Alastor used his shadows to move right behind her, putting his hand on her shoulder. "You see, I have been keeping an eye on you. It was not my intention to make you feel uncomfortable."

"You have been stalking me?"

"No, no my dear. Just... Observing," the Alastor corrected her.

"Tomato tomato." Y/n looked up into his terrifying, red eyes. "And why has the infamous Radio Demon been stalking me?"

"Observing!"

"Just answer the question."

"..." He sighed, "I'm not too sure either. The only way I could describe it is you interest me."

"Well, next time you can just knock on my door. I prefer not to be watched during my cry sessions."

"Oh, but I loved hearing you sing when you thought no one was there."

The two started laughing, treating the stalkerish behaviours of Alastor as a joke.

"No but really, stop. It's creepy!"

"If the lady demands it."

The night went on long after the dinner was over. In a moment of confidence, Y/n implied that she was interested in seeing his radio tower and Alastor happily brought her there. She shuttered walking up the stairs into the little booth.

"Take a seat." Alastor pulled back the chair and when she sat down, scooted it up to the desk.

He started to explain what all the buttons and switches where for and how the antenna's send out radio waves or whatever. Y/n was only listening to half of it. The other half of her attention on Alastor's face. She had never realised how handsome the deer demon truly was. And his voice was incredibly soothing, at least for those who weren't scared of him.

His big eyes were beautiful and his wide smile was incredibly charming. Y/n's eyes drifted up to his head. His ears looked soft and fluffy, she wondered if she would ever get the chance to touch them. The antlers sticking out of his hair gave him a more manly appearance, contrasting the cute ears.

Y/n started leaning into him, getting incredibly close to his face.

"And these make sure tha-" Alastor immediately stopped talking when he turned his head and realised how close the two really were.

His nose was touching hers and he could feel her breath. Alastor's heart started pounding harder and harder, a slightly red blush decorated his face matching his attire and his eyes stared right into hers. He could only think about how beautiful she was.

Unconsciously he moved closer and closer and so did she. Until their lips touched. Y/n took this chance to deepen the kiss.

It lasted only a minute but to the two of them it felt like forever. They wished to keep going, however, they were unable to keep in their breath for that long.

As they pulled apart from one another, the realisation dawned on them. It was quiet.

They went back to their own room, neither of them dared to say a word. Perhaps it was just a fluke or perhaps this would grow out into more. Whatever Y/n was going to do about it could wait for tomorrow, it was 3 am after all and she was tired.

For the first time in weeks, Y/n fell asleep with a smile.

Masterlist/request guidelines

[icallhimjoey]

writing idea: group hang at a rage room/smash room that ends up in a meet cute.

eeeeeee thanks for this request! it's a quick lil thing, hope you enjoy! tw: mention of blood and a cut in your face Wordcount: 1.7K

---

Not His Thing

Joe hasn't stopped feeling the uncomfortable flush of guilt in his face for the past half an hour. He feels awful.

Smash rooms, as so it turns out, aren't really his thing.

"Stop saying you're sorry."

"Yea, sorry. I'll stop. Sorry. Sorry." Joe jokingly takes all blame immediately, because he is obviously an idiot who can't do anything right at the moment.

You smile through watery eyes, your nose tinged red and half your face numb from the cold. You've been pressing a towel-wrapped ice pack to your cheekbone for over twenty minutes now, and it's done wonders for the bleeding and for the pain. Not so much for the panic and the lightheadedness that followed though, but all things considered, you feel fine.

Your fun day out with friends has been cut short, though.

"Does it hurt still?" someone asks you, and you expertly control your voice, give them a steady, "No, it's just cold, now." but your eyes are still watery.

When you remove the ice pack for a member of staff to have a look at you, they tut worriedly and tell you to just hold it in place a moment longer.

Joe did this. This is Joe's fault.

Joe tries his best not to wince at the swelling he can see. At the size of the cut he left in your face. God, your face. You are likely going to need stitches. He remembers getting a cut in his own face, right in the middle of his forehead, and how that bled for hours. The worst part though, is that it'd left him with a scar.

Joe can't believed he scarred someone.

"But I am sor–" Joe tries, not overly loud, he doesn't want to make you jump.

"Stop it. It was an accident. Accidents happen, don't worry." You reassure him once more, and you really mean it, but it does nothing for Joe's culpability.

He did this.

Joe had swung a bat at porcelain, and you'd been in the wrong spot at the wrong time. A shard of vase had gotten stuck in your cheekbone, just below the protective glasses you'd been wearing.

You imagined it'd just been a scrape, had only let a small, "Ow," pass your lips upon the impact, but then you'd gone to touch it, and felt something solid there still.

Stuck.

Skin wet.

The liquid warm.

Something solid.

Something sharp.

Your fingers painted red, and the sight of it had nearly made you faint. Joe had never seen colour drain from someone's face quite so fast.

Joe already knew that his fight or flight response was freeze, but being confronted with this cowardly personality trait like this was terrible.

Joe hadn't ever seen a girl panic the way you had from something he was responsible for.

He'd just stood next to you in his protective gear, big shocked eyes behind his plastic safety glasses, entirely unsure of what to do.

And then you'd wobbled on your legs, and he had just shot an arm out.

For the lack of strength you'd held in your legs, Joe was surprised by the death grip you had on the sleeve of his overalls.

Your blood covered hand went back to touch at your cheek again, but Joe was able to grab hold of that wrist just in time. And then, with weird tensed upper bodies that held onto each other, Joe'd lowered you down onto the ground because everyone around you kept repeating for you to sit down, to get onto the floor.

You sat down, and then only seconds later, lied down before you could lose consciousness all together. Your friend lifted your legs up and even though your eyes looked scared, the two of you were giggling. Laughing at the silly situation.

And Joe had just stood there.

Useless.

Your skin looked extra pale next to the bright red of the blood that dripped down your cheek right into your hair and it was... sort of beautiful. Awful thing to focus on when he should've actually been doing something helpful, but Joe just... looked at you, and thought you looked lovely.

Looking at you now, still teary, but smiling, he's still scared it'll flare up again. Your panic. It's unlikely, you're sat on the floor, leaning against the wall near the exit, but your cheek doesn't look good. He feels bad going back in to launch a hammer at a printer, or whatever, so he's hovering. Some of his friends are too, just like the staff is, making sure you're drinking your water, telling you to stay seated until your breathing has returned to normal.

Your friend has gone to get the car, and she said she'd be quick, but the second she was out the door, you'd cracked a joke. Said you'd see her in an hour if you were lucky.

You shudder through another inhale, and it makes Joe's eyebrows twitch up a little. You see it happen and release your breath in a laugh.

"If I were to go with just how you're looking at me, I'd believe I was actively dying," you joke, and everyone around you politely smiles through worried grimaces.

"I feel fine. I'm fine, honestly. It's just a minor cut. It feels," and like an idiot, you remove the ice pack and shove a dirty finger right into the cut on your face.

You feel how wide the cut is, and how deep into your cheek your finger sinks.

"Fi–..."

The wave of nausea is a surprise to you, and the way Joe shoots into action when you sag to the side because your head is suddenly too heavy is a real surprise to him.

"Hey, hey, okay, careful, careful..." Joe holds you by the side of your face that hasn't got a huge gash in and curls his fingers around as he carefully tries to hold you up.

"Maybe you shouldn't..." he starts, and finds the ice pack you've dropped with his other hand. "...play with that."

You kind of want to go to sleep.

Close your eyes and have a nap.

You lean into the hand that holds you and the instant comfort after shooting pain is nice.

But then the ice pack gets softly pressed against where your skin's broken and your eyes laser back into focus.

"Hi," Joe says when you make eye-contact. He smiles, though it's wobbly.

Maybe you aren't as fine as you thought you were.

"I'm fine?" you ask, feeling panicked like a real loser.

"You're fine." Joe assures you, voice soft but level enough for you to believe it. That's what's important, he thinks. If you believe it, you'll calm down enough until your friend gets back and she can take you to hospital.

"You're okay, focus on breathing, all right?" Joe redeems himself. This is what he should've done half an hour ago, when all hell broke loose. "That's all you've got to do. You're fine."

"I'm fine." you repeat after him, and force yourself to take a deep breath. "I'm fine." you're reassuring yourself now, and with one hand cupping your clammy face and another cooling where you're hurt, you press your own hands to your chest and ground yourself with your eyes closed.

It's awkward because there's other people there, but Joe's glad he gets to hold you for a bit. It's admittedly an unconventional way of being close to someone he's just met, and he still feels mortified, but... you're pretty. Even with dried blood covering half your face.

If this is how he meets the love of his life, it can be an embarrassing story he will gladly listen to at every single birthday party until he dies.

"That hurt." you say after a moment, and smile, eyes still closed.

"You're fine." Joe says again, but whispers it now.

"I'm sorry," you say like this is your fault. "I should've known not to agree to come to this," you confess, eyes blinking open now, and if you're startled by how close Joe is to you, you don't show it. "I'm not really angry enough for this. I don't think smash rooms are my thing..."

Same, Joe thinks, and he smiles, gets some of his confidence back when he sees the flush returning to your face. "Maybe there's some anger now?" he asks, because you should be angry. At him. Look at what he's done to you.

You don't understand what he means, this handsome stranger, and you frown in confusion. Before you can ask, and before Joe can explain, the door opens and your friend barges in, completely out of breath.

"Quick! I've stopped right in front and I'm holding up traffic!"

And just like that, Joe and staff help you move back up onto your feet.

You're fine.

You're helped out to the car, but halfway down the pavement, you're walking by yourself and are getting into the car without any help.

It is just a cut on your cheek.

"Can I, em," Joe starts, staring through the glass of the door at where you cup a loose hand over your cheek to protect it when you put your seatbelt on with the other. "Can I get her details?" he turns to a member of staff.

"Huh?"

"I'd love to send a card," he explains, and from behind him, he can hear one of his friends softly chuckle.

Joe'd forgotten he was even there with anyone.

"A card, or a bunch of flowers?" one of them starts.

"He's going to write her a love letter," one groans, already annoyed by the idea of it.

"Gifts her ten grand, just because he feels bad," another jumps in, and they're laughing, slapping shoulders. They're making fun, pretending to be Joe, mimicking the face he made, how he'd helplessly stood there, joking about how the one time Joe joins them for something, this happens. It's all shit they'd held in whilst you were there still, and it's all spewing out now, no holding them back. Joe doesn't even try.

"Come on, we've spent long enough not smashing TVs in."

And bats, hammers and axes get picked back up.

"You coming?"

And Joe smiles, though it's not very convincing.

"Nah," he says, and walks over to that staff member. He needs to get your details.

"I'm good."

There was no way he was going back in there, because smash rooms, as it turns out, aren't really his thing.

the end

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,

@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,

@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,

@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn0628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[dy6nsty]

Can I request sleep token x reader with a reader who is accident prone? Today alone i have slid on ice, smacked my head off a shelf, and stabbed myself with a comb.

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I LOVE THIS PROMPT. YES, YES YOU CAN‼️I also hope you’re doing good after all that..

Sleep Token x GN! reader who has a tendency to get injured

Relationship— Romantic

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Vessel:

Suddenly has eyes in the back of his head. Knows you’re picking something up. “Put it down.”

Leaves you alone for a couple of minutes and comes back to chaos. Chaos in this scenario was you breaking something.

Blueprints things in his head to figure out if there’s anything that could possibly put you out of trouble.

Was considering getting you one of those child leashes so he can keep a better eye on you.

Follows you around sometimes to make sure you don’t injure yourself or break something. Watching you bump into 70% of things you come across.

Puts rubber counter protectors on surfaces with sharp or hard corners, just so you won’t bang into them on accident.

If you can’t walk in a straight line (I can’t do it either don’t worry guys! 😊)— he’ll help you get around. “Left- right! RIGHT!”

His worst enemy is winter and spring. We have icy grounds than slippery grass. But is also your frenemy.

Is now stalked up with bandaids, glue, tape and other necessities he might need for the future with you. Which is probably a lot.

If you come to him with an injury he’ll let out a long sigh before asking what happened. Let’s you ramble on about how you’ve gotten hurt now while he fixes you up.

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II:

Call him the gigglesaurus at this point. Will watch you stumble than fall and start cackling before realizing he’s not supposed to laugh..

Likes the chaos it can bring! But he still gets a mini panic attack when he realizes you’ve disappeared from you once were: beside him.

Learned how to treat wounds, bruises, and stuff because of how often it started happening. Also learned how to fix mirrors!

Wants to know all of the dumb or serious stories you have. He’s all for it.

Likes to keep an arm around your waist to ensure you won’t get into any inconvenience.

Tries to help you with tasks you might accidentally fuck up. Reaching for things, organizing glasses, cleaning, or even will escort you around areas so you don’t trip over your own feet!

Counts up how many bruises or any marks you have at the end of the day. If he notices a new one he’ll ask what happened. If it happened in a dumb way he just stifles a laugh.

Watches you from afar sometimes to make sure nothings happen so far. If he does see you get hurt he’ll rush over to see what’s happened, again.

Feels like he’s on a news channel at this point. Honestly wonders if you have some sort of curse to how often he’s found you in these exact scenes.

Does not trust you holding glass, plastic, porcelain, or metal objects. He’ll hold them with you but he’s not wanting you to break any of those by falling over, or maybe even dropping them on yourself.

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III:

Stays serious about it but once saw you run into a door and almost lost his shit. Wanted to laugh so hard.

Keeps bandaids, a small thing of bandage wrap + tape, and tissue in his pockets. It’s become a habit.

Carries you around areas that have many things cluttered on the ground so nothing will end up broken.

Trusts you enough to look away and not keep an eye on you 24/7 but still has a physical reflex whenever he hears a crash, bang, or a small sound of something colliding.

Often times will try to fix any messed you might’ve caused. Hiding any evidence that something had happened.

Kisses any minor injuries you get. “It hurts? Want me to kiss it so it feels better?”

Deals with your injuries or things you might’ve smashed, asks how it was caused so he can prevent them from happening further on.

Moves things around if he’s noticed it’s a common occurrence for you to bump into it with the object in the room / it’s placement.

Will take over / help you with certain scenarios if it becomes a problem to where you always end up hurt afterwards.

Warms you about things he sees coming your way: “Wall, you’re gonna walk into it.”, “There’s a plate of glasses, don’t walk into it.”

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IV:

Feels like superman sometimes when it comes to you. Steadies things in your hand if he notices you’re unbalanced.

Will also laugh at you. Unless you’re bleeding. He’ll run over to make sure everything’s all right.

Stocks up on ice packs and replaceable items for ones you might knock over later on.

Makes sure you won’t knock into anyone while your walking, or into anything.

Starts following you around when he can to make sure that you’re not getting into any trouble.

Also an enemy with winter. Especially if you want to try any winter sports. You can try but he might mentally face palm if you get ran over by a kid in a sled.

Starts requesting for plastic cups instead of glass. He can’t risk fancy glasses being broken any longer.

He gets into trouble in his own way, but he swears he’s more safe than you.

Picks you up and carrie’s you away when he senses that something just might happen. Spidey senses over here!!!

He can’t walk in a straight line so your both screwed. Your bumping into each other like you have sea legs.

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i’m sorry if this turned out a little bad! i’m currently on the verge of sleep but rlly wanted to finish this! ^^

[yanderes-galore]

I have a request. Could I please request a Yandere Princess Cadence for The Yandere MLP Virus AU?

Hm... sure! Doing this with Cadance could be cool! (She's a fav of mine) Using @koipaper 's idea for how the virus started (Hope I tagged the right person 😭) Not fully proofread!

Yandere Virus! Princess Cadance Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Yandere virus, Blood, Violence, Death, Murder, Body horror, DARK THEMES, Forced relationship attempted.

Poor Cadance has no clue what Twilight has done.

The princess knew of the younger princess's crush, but didn't know the extent.

She had no idea Twilight tried to cast a love spell on you... only to do it wrong and curse you.

Upon being sent a letter of distress, Cadance left Shining Armor and Flurry Heart to check things out in Ponyville.

She worries for Twilight... especially if this really is some sort of emergency.

Cadance has no idea what awaits her.

When she arrives at Twilight's castle everything's a mess.

There's no sign of the princess... and Ponyville itself looks in disarray.

The Alicorn is careful, wandering the streets carefully.

She even cringes back when she sees blood in the streets.

What happened...?

Going further into Ponyville she's met with broken architecture and blood.

Perhaps even a corpse or two.

Soon she even sees the results of the virus.

Emancipated ponies... bloody wounds... all staggering about with smiles and bloodshot/dilated eyes.

It's by this point Cadance knows she has to escape.

But then a pony comes rushing away from a horde, fear on their face.

Cadance charges her magic and steps in, pacifying the infected while standing in front of the pony.

By the time it's all done the alicorn turns to the pony.

Said pony is you... injured and bleeding... shock written all over your face.

"P-Princess Cadance...!" You manage to gasp out. "You shouldn't be here!"

The alicorn is confused as you sob.

"P-Please... leave me be...! Save yourself!"

There's then movement behind the alicorn, she turns around to see a familiar purple alicorn staring her down.

The older princess freezes.

"Twilight...?"

The purple alicorn says nothing, looking maybe the worst out of all the infected.

Then her gaze stares at the other alicorn.

"Why do you have them?"

Cadance glances at you now standing behind her, you're shaking on your legs.

"Twilight... what happened...?"

There's shambling silhouettes that walk closer, Cadance recognizes them as Twilight's friends.

They're all infected....

"Give them back..." The purple alicorn rasps, stepping forward.

"Don't take what isn't yours...!"

It's then Cadance uses her magic to carry you, running off with you.

You're too weak to be able to warn her anymore... you're so tired...

Cadance flies and runs for her life, infected ponies following close behind.

She'll save you... you'll be protected...

She just needs to get out of her.

By the end of the escape attempt Cadance has a few wounds... but nothing bad.

By the time she manages to lose the other ponies she focuses on your wounds.

You're too tired to fight anymore... you're happy to be out of Ponyville...

But you fear for what happens next.

Cadance is oblivious to the curse you have, carefully taking you back to her castle to tend to your weak body.

You're kept in your own room while Cadance explains to Shining Armor what happened.

You may be bandaged... but you still cry.

Not from pain... but at the fact you realize you've caused all this.

Unless anything is done about it... you'll cause it all to happen again.

You fear corrupting Cadance... so you plan to leave once rested.

But as she checks up on you... you can see her gaze shift.

You fear it's already too late...

The Mane Six are long gone in their insanity... the rest of Ponyville might be too...

Your next goal is to escape the Crystal Empire... you have a theory on how to help yourself...

You need either Zecora... or Queen Chrysalis.

So, without thanking Princess Cadance... you leave.

Said Princess then freaks out when she sees you gone.

After all... the virus has settled in...

She won't stop searching for you...

Not until she has you... like every other infected pony you've encountered.

You're in danger without her.