#i should probably make new ones bUT LIKE TAKE SOME ??? or just plot

[fatal-blow]

so like many things most tips in the realm of native gardening and supporting the local environment are made by people who have all the energy and a weirdly vested interest in only doing it their own way and not giving way to people who have none of the energy so

hacks for the low energy native gardener (part 1?)

before you go out and buy any tools, plugs, seeds, whatever the hell, know what you have to work with. whether youre renting a tiny apartment or have a large grassy plot, take a couple days to pay attention to the plants and animals that already live nearby. these are your neighbours, and they will be the ones benefiting from whatever you decide to get up to.

each environment ranges in levels of biodiversity. i live in a place with higher biodiversity, but many people live in places where the diversity has been depleted. you can get the roughest idea of your areas diversity with a simple walk around the block. take note of how many different species of Tree/Shrub, Flower, Bird, and Animal you see. if youre only getting 2-3 in each category, this is lower diversity. if youre more in the range of 6+, this is higher diversity.

higher diversity is a healthier environment, yes even if the diversity is almost entirely invasive species. if you live somewhere on the higher end of diversity, you will be better off spending your time reading about the guys you already have. use inaturalist to ID, and take a read through the wikipedia page for these species.

in a higher diversity area, your goal should be to fill in the gaps. some examples include: drinkable water, nesting sites, shelter, and seasonality (eg you have plants that bloom in fall, but nothing that blooms in spring)

in low diversity spaces, your goals can be more open ended. a low diversity space will be starving for variety, and just about anything you do short of destroying more will help support the area. activities can range from letting some of your lawn grow out to buying a potted flowering plant and leaving it outside.

do not fret if your efforts attract invasive species. in low diversity areas, these are often the only species available TO attract. in higher diversity areas, invasive species can often coexist with natives. its often a matter of resource availibility: if theres enough to go around, competition between the two can be eased. as a layman with no energy, do not concern yourself with invasives.

i could make this entire post about how invasive species are low on the priority list but i wont. this time.

a bird feeder is one of the simplest ways to boost your local environment. buy a metal tube feeder with an anti-squirrel cage around it, fill it with black oil sunflower seeds. NO PLASTIC. you do not need to clean it every time you fill it, only if it gets nasty or if you notice sick birds using it. do not fret if it gets mobbed by invasives. the sounds of happy birds, ANY happy birds, will signal to other species that this area is safe and has food. if you live somewhere that gets cold, a suet feeder is a great investment as well.

If you have a lawn and want to rewild it, you do not need to rip up the sod. dig a hole straight through it and plant your guy. ripping up the sod is time and energy consuming, and only really useful if you plan to convert the entire area immediately.

letting a lawn grow out can yield many surprises. the vast majority of lawns arent actually monocultures, just a collection of guys who grow low and can handle getting mowed. when you first let the grass grow out, it probably wont have much going on, but the height and lack of mowing will provide a new microenvironment for different types of plants to grow in the shade, and the next year you will already have new guys popping up.

dont buy seeds, if you can help it. if you want to use seeds, you will have more success taking a muffin container, poking holes in the bottom, and making little soil patties to grow them in. leave the container outside over winter, and in spring youll have these nice little pucks of seedlings that can be transferred to larger pots, and then into the ground once theyre 15-20cm tall.

your money is best spent on buying a mature or already growing plant from the nursery. dont plant it right away, but leave it in the pot in the spot you want to plant it. if it dries out or wilts, too much sun. if it gets pale and the soil remains waterlogged, too much shade. use that to determine its final resting place. when in doubt, opt for a bit shadier--especially if its shady during the midday heat.

pesticides and herbicides are not necessary. raking leaves is not necessary. trimming dead stems and foliage in winter is not necessary.

and possibly most important: always add more than you intend to take away. do not destroy until you have a replacement.

[nonuggetshere]

PK: "...Kid..."

PV: "What? I'm just pointing out the obvious."

PK: "You're being a little shit is what you are."

WL: "Well, they're not wrong–"

PK: "Don't enable this."

(ID start: A picture of The Pale King, The White Lady and the Pure Vessel from Hollow Knight as humans. They're all wearing matching golden roses, a pin for Pure Vessel, a hair clip for the Pale King and a corsage for the White Lady. The Pure Vessel has their hand at the head height of their father, laughing about his height with their mother, much to the displeasure of the king. End ID.)

They're making fun of the monochronic manlet

[scare-ard--sleigh]

also saying this is so earnest that it makes me wanna vom but i like,,,, miss being in a fandom where people like my ocs as much as i do wwweehhh

[k0mmari]

SYSTEM! SHEN YUAN AU

Okay, look, I've head a System SY idea for a while now (in fact, some of the ideas for this were used when I was first planning out Locked & Loaded), but after seeing @/artsarasp's System!SQQ AU, the brainworms have been once again come alive and I just need to get this out into the world. This is a very bare bones idea that I (probably) won't actually write, so walk with me for a second! Also this is going to be a very, very long post.

In this idea, the System actually is an interdimensional organization that deal with creating new worlds based on stories and making sure these worlds continue working as intended and (eventually), sending transmigrators to worlds that need 'improvement' (this improvement being very subjectice depending on which worker is assigned which story).

In SY's case, he's just someone who usually works behing a screen, in the most exciting cases he gets to guide transmigrators around but most of the time he just makes sure the stories 'code' is running normally and nothing world-breaking is going on in the stories (like someone managing to find a hack to skip defining plot points, or activating God-Mode somehow). He's very happy with this arrangement, btw! He was never one to run around and his boss has warned him once or twice for apparently being 'way too harsh' on the few transmigrators he got to be a System for.

Unfortunately, one day he is assigned to 'manually inspect' a world because a certain co-worker of his (Shang Qinghua) had been sent down there to handle a glitch but had gone missing instead. When SY asks why was he being the one asked to do this (not that he doesn't care for his friend, but he REALLY isnt made for running around), his boss says SY is the only other one who is familiar enough with the world to not get lost.

So that's how he find out SQH had managed to get himself stuck on the world he created (as a joke even, he hadn't even expected that when he was messing around with the company's program he would actually be able to create a new world based on the shitty novel he'd written as a human). And of course, SQH only having one friend, subjected SY to the story.

SY grumbles and denies ever seeing anything about SQH's story (or liking it, even if his boss kindly points out they never mentioned SY liked it) but eventually he agrees; and that's how he finds himself being teletransported onto the world of PIDW, carrying a pair of Debugging Sheers he'd never thought he would have to hold (he calls them Big Scissors), with the mission of finding SQH and dealing with the glitch that was still somewhere in the world.

Though, when he goes to message his supervisor about the specifics (where he should go or what was the last known location of SQH), he finds out that his Personal System has apparently already been affected by the glitch ("ALREADY??") that he was realizing worked more like a virus. Fortunately some messages were still going through, and his supervisor notified him they couldn't send him directly to the location he needed to be, specially because the virus seemed to have fragmented and spread to various parts of the stories timeline. SY now has to jump around through time a few times and slowly cut doen the glitches caused by the virus.

Thus begins Shen Yuan's Great Narrative Haunting (in real time.).

Luckily, for him, the place he first appeared was already one of the spots the virus has infected the world, and it seems to be in a town not too far away from him, so with a quick activation of the 'Ghost Mode' function (avaiable for all System staff to make it easier when they have to manually fix something, making them invisible and untouchable), SY heads to the town.

The glitch actually doesnt take too long to find (it was a buggy tree clipping onto a nearby river, which only needs a snip of the Big Scissors to disappear from reality), but when SY and passing through the town to find some better signal for his Personal System so he can jump forward to the next stop, he sees a group of snickering kids leaving an alleyway. A bit curious, he passes by the alley and barely manages to see through the pouring rain and spot a trembling figure on the floor. Of course, PIDW was never meant to be a happy or forgiving world, so SY is not surprised at the idea that some kids were bullying a smaller kid, though it still makes him upset.

He kneels close to the child and turns off 'Ghost Mode', pulling out an umbrella from his inventory (yes, System staff ALSO get an inventory, no one wants to have to carry aroung those big ass scissors), covering him from the rain. The boy is shaking from the cold, and even if SY can't check the boy's identity (since his system is still buggy), he reasons the probability of him coming into contact with an important character is very small, and even if System staff aren't supposed to interact with characters, he limits himself to at least getting the boy out of the rain.

Luo Binghe later wakes in a bench underneath a small shop's roof, covered in a thick cloth, having no idea how he'd gotten there besides the vague dream (or memory?) of a strangely dressed person patting his hair and taking him into their arms. He notices the rain has stopped and he's perfectly dry. Shen Yuan, seeing the kid seems to be doing well, finally jumps to his next location.

It doesn't take long for SY to figure out where he is when he loads onto the next mission location, in fact, he's almost certain he'd recognize the bamboo forest and calm, almost dream-like atmosphere of Qing Jing Peak anywhere. Seeing there that Qing Jing even exists in the first place, he deduces Binghe is still not emperor, so this time he makes sure to not be seen by any characters. It also doesn't take for SY to find his next target, as a commotion behind him catches his attention.

And oh, if he isn't familiar with the scene. A few older looking disciples push around a smaller looking boy, while a girl insistently shouts for the leader of the older disciples to stop. SY barely managed to appreaciate how Luo Binghe looks so cute as a child before (who he assumes is) Ming Fan snatches rips an amulet out of Binghe's neck. It's quite the heartbreaking scene to watch live, poor Binghe fighting for the only remaining piece of his adoptive mother without even knowing he's destined to never see it again. SY's Personal System may be buggy but it's still functional enough to detect if SY has a direct impact on the main storyline, so SY is basically forced to stand still and watch.

Though, since he had a clear view of the whole scene, when Ming Fan throws the jade pendant into the forest, SY can perfectly follow the arch of the necklace and sees where it landed, which is when an idea pops into his head. Distantly hearing Luo Binghe and NYY frantically searching for a necklace they'll never find, SY spots where the fake jade glimmers high up on a tree brench, though it's glimmer is distorted by the distinct sight of a glitch corrupting it's form. If SY were to follow standard procedure, he'd just have to bring out his Sheers and snip the necklace out of existence, but looking at it... Would it be so bad if he debugged the necklace the longer way?

Besides, if Binghe has the necklace or not, it's not like this one item is going to interfere with the major story anyways. SY isn't stopping Binghe from falling into the Abyss, he's just... Returning a lost item to it's intended owner.

Later, after an exhausting afternoon of what seemed to be searching through every nook and cranny of Qing Jing Peak's surrounding forest, Luo Binghe goes back to the shed he sleeps in utterly defeat and feeling strangely hollow; that is, until he opens the door and finds a new, thick blanket neatly folded in the middle of the shed, way too clean to be anything he had previously owned, and atop of it, his precious jade pendent, sitting there as if it never even dissapeared. Luo Binghe distantly notices that nobody that visits the shed ever lets the door closed after they visit.

The third location SY goes to leaves him no time to acclimatize, as he's immediately attacked by a beast, and only after (struggling to) kill it, does SY notice the unfortunate situation he was placed into: the Immortal Alliance Conference. By this point, he's already figured out his Personal System is most likely using Binghe's energy as Protagonist to make up for the energy it can't use due to it being partially corrupted, and the energy it needs to save up so SY can go back to the System's head quarters, so it really wasn't a surprise that he would be sent to this specific plot point, but dammit can't he avoid having to be near the place where his favorite character is thrown into hell??

And, well, there's also the problem that a beast attacked him, which meant it saw him, which meant his Ghost Mode was also glitching out, and after fiddling around which a half functioning System interface, it seems that the presence of the virus here is stronger than the other places, though still not the biggest chunk. Truly, just the cherry on top of his situation that he'd have to scurry around and somehow manage to not bump into anyone.

As is his luck, as SY tries to head closer to where his System is signaling the glitch's presence, other monsters continue attacking him, which besides slowing him down a considerable amount, it also causes the risk of him being picked up by the people watching the Conference through the Spirit Eagles circling the area, which is the last thing he needs.

Eventually he goes to the closest spot he can to the glitch, but a snapping sound behind him sends him into full panic. A person stands behind him, which leaves SY wondering how he managed to miss someone sneaking up on him like this. "You seem to have dropped something." the person says, and SY eyes immediately fall to his body, scanning himself to what he might have lost, and his hand basically flies to his throat when he notices the tassle that is usually nestled there is missing. He quickly turns around, only to come face to face to the golden protagonist, mister Luo Binghe himself.

Binghe tries interrogating SY as to what he's doing, sneaking around the supposedly sealed off Conference grounds, and SY, in his panicked state (slightly fuelled by a fanboy-induced craze) tries to fumble for excuses, but only when Binghe finally understands that the feeling he gets when looking at this strange person is an undeniable sense of deja-vu and tries asking SY if they'd met before, a loud rumblind shakes the ground: the Abyss has opened.

SY feels even more panicked, cause what this means is eventually, not only will he be discovered by Luo Binghe (his supervisor is going to kill him), but he could possibly be discovered by Shen Qingqiu, of all people! He doesn't get too much time to think about his grand escape however, as a piercing shriek comes from the Abyss rift. Right, how could he forget about the Black Moon Rhinoceros Python? And-- Oh, of course! Of course the damn thing would be virus-infected object!

After teaming-up with Binghe, the both of them manage to subdue the monster long enough that SY managed to snip it, though while they both catch their breath, SY belatedly realizes he just helped Binghe fight with the monster he was supposed to fight. Alone! The monster who was supposed to break his demonic seal! And, like clockwork, he can distantly hear what can only be SQQ's hurried steps through the forest! FUCK!!

With no other option, and Binghe now wanting to continue his interrogation, SY hurriedly start to walk towards the Abyss rift, frantically giving Binghe tips about what he could do in the Abyss to have an easier time, though when he catches a glimpse of green robes between the trees, SY types something on a floating screen and jumps backwards, Binghe letting out a shocked scream. Unfortunately, the protagonist won't be able to do nothing about the seemingly insane and way too familiar man who just jumped into the Abyss, as a rustling sounds behind him, and he's met with a newly regenrated Black Moon Rhino.

SY feels horrible about spawning a new one after Binghe just finished fighting one, but the story must continue, and with his Personal System finally free from most of the virus corruption, SY leaves one last gift as an apology and warping away before hitting the Abyss' ground. Later, when Binghe wakes up at the bottom of the rift after being pushed by SQQ, the first thing he sees is a qiakun pouch, full of useful items and tiny note at the bottom that reads 'Sorry!'

Pt.2

[luludeluluramblings]

tbh I’m more intrigued by the idea of college-age Reader getting pregnant while unmarried still living in the manor and NO ONE has any idea who the father is (maybe she does, but she’s withholding that for now or maybe he’s not in the picture?) and it’s the biggest freak out ever. that just seems so fucking wild and potentially hilarious to me. and nobody noticing she’s pregnant until she’s farther along? or them finding out randomly?? imagine:

damian: you look pregnant. what is wrong with you.

reader: i am pregnant though

the batfam: ????????!!!!!!!!!! and then she proposes that now that she’s old enough and starting a new chapter in her life raising a baby and all she should just move out! (cue everyone disliked that meme)

Neglected!Pregnant!Reader x Yandere!Bat Family

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part Two

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Okay, I think I'm about to become a Pregnancy!Reader writer. Which, I'm not mad about. Kind think it would be fun, but I know the trope isn't for everyone. So, if it’s not your thing, I’m sorry.

A/N: Some of this is based off of things from my own pregnancies.

A/N: Oh, no. Frick, I wanna make this a series now. Check the bottom, cause I have a plot idea for this and I want opinions on it. I spiraled, this was supposed to be a quick blurb. I got carried away. Gonna build up to the yandere shenanigans because I’m turning into a writer with a million WIPs.

A/N: Tagging @skay-ali because I like their The Forgotten Daughter series.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Very minor Yandere Themes (like barely there), minor NSFW, graphic descriptions of pregnancy and medical procedures, Vomiting.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You don't really remember that night it happened. But, it only happened once and after you swore you'd never drink again. The hangover after that night had been one of the worst of your short life.

In fact, the sticky feeling between your legs and bitter taste on your tongue had also added to your decision to swear of these college parties. Luckily, you have enough of your memory to remember that you and your partner from that night had both been willing even when wasted. Even if you couldn't remember their name. Or, their face.

It takes you a while to notice. One missed cycle wasn't anything to freak out about, and it was exam season. The stress had probably caused the nausea. It wasn't until you were heading down to breakfast one morning and smelled the burnt eggs in the kitchen that Stephanie had burnt that you realized something might be wrong.

You, of course, ignore it. It was just a fluke. Burnt eggs weren't appetizing to anyone. But, then you nearly faint walking through the perfume section after looking to restock your favorite bottle of scent.

The doctor you finally went to another week later had asked about your cycle and the last time you had been intimate with someone. That's when the reality of things started to set in. You hadn't even thought to do an at home test to check. Your doctor was kind though, saying they could just do a quick urine sample and blood test just to make sure. It might be something else.

The next few minutes felt like ages. But, when the Doctor came back to tell you the positive results you panicked. Not as in panicked as in you broke down, but you threw up a mask. You're good at doing that. You must get it from your father.

When she asks you if this is good news or bad news you can't help, but blurt that it's good. Great even. Which causes her to beam at you. Before you know it, you're being handed a complementary diaper bag with formula and tiny bottles while being given the rundown on your possible due date and future appointments. You nodded you're head along with the information, sliding the paper's into the diaper bag as she hands them to you.

But, then she turns to you with delight and tells you that the Ultra Sound tech has an opening and you're just far along enough they can do your first ultrasound. It'll only be a thirty minute wait.

After nodding along once more, you go back into the waiting room. Holding your new bag with white knuckles and falling into deep thought.

This is happening. But, how? Are you even fit to be a parent? You've hardly ever been loved. How are you going to love someone else? How are you going to do this? What will the family think? What will your few friends think? You don't even remember who their father is. This is impossible. You're not ready. You'll never be ready. That churning feeling is in your stomach again and you feel that single piece of toast you had for breakfast about to come back up.

The thirty minutes fly by with those thoughts in your head. They still swirl in your head as your go back into the ultrasound room.

It's dark, but the tech had few soft lights on in the room. Its actually kind of... cozy.

What's not cozy it the tech telling you that she's going to stick a wand up your bits so you could see the baby. Your eyes screwing shut at the cold invasive feeling.

But, when you open them, she turns the screen for you to see. It's almost amazing how fast the image appears on the screen.

And, their moving. Actually moving. You end up laughing at the sight, causing the screen to flicker and the little blob to move. When the nurse plays the heart beat you can feel yours stuttering in your chest.

Watching them bounce in there with each laugh, it’s easy for the next words to spill out of your mouth.

“Oh, I’m gonna love you.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Every step after that feels remarkably less lonely. It’s not just you anymore. You have someone who you’re going to love.

You don’t bother telling the Family. Bruce would just lecture you on being reckless while the other’s would judge you for it.

Honestly, you don’t care if they did. This is your baby.

Funnily enough, for a house full of detectives and highly intelligent vigilantes no one actually notices. Not even Cassandra. It’s a bit insulting how much they don’t pay attention. But, your symptoms soon make it so you don’t care.

The waves of exhaustion, the way everything smells strong and certain things make you want to gag. Heartburn that burns your throat. The subtle cravings that make you cry when you can’t fulfill them. Thankfully you finished your exams because you were too tired to even move from your bed most mornings due to strange nightmares.

Eventually, someone does notice. And, it’s not anyone you would expect.

Of all things you cried over on the pantry floor, it had to be salt and vinegar chips. They hadn’t been what you wanted, but it was too late to go get french fries and a smoothie at this hour in Gotham. And, you stuffed them down your throat with angry tears.

It was Stephanie of all people to find you. You gave her a sharp glare when she seemed to grow wide eyed. Normally you avoid her gaze, but you were quite pissed about having chips in your mouth and not fries. As her eyes grew wider, your nose wrinkled in further annoyance at her.

Just as you’re about to tell her off, she speaks.

“Do you— um, want something else?”

It’s pitiful how fast your snarl turns into a pleading pout.

“Yes, please. I want fries. I want Jokerized fries so badly.” You practically blubber when she gives you a pointed nod towards the car garage.

It takes you a bit to get off the floor despite the fact that your bump is hardly noticeable, but Stephanie noticed the extremely subtle curve.

“How far?” She asks hesitantly, looking from the bump to your face.

You also hesitant for a moment, looking up at her with tears on your cheeks and a serious look in your eyes. “14 Weeks.”

Her eyebrows raise and a wiry pout appears on her face. “Damn. You’re smaller than I was at that time, so not fair.”

The slightly surprised that information gives you almost makes you pause. But, if you had you would’ve probably toppled back down to the pantry floor.

“Explain on the way?” You ask, still a bit nervous. The two of you had never been close since you moved into the manor less than a handful of years back.

“Sure.” She grins, leading the way.

As you both walk, she whispers. “Does Bruce know?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“Ah.” Stephanie managed to hide the winces from you.

When you two finally make into the car, you’re already feeling better about life. You’re about to have your fries, and possibly a shake too. You didn’t expect to have any company, but surprisingly it’s nice.

Stephanie drives, and get the fries to go. Munching on them as Stephanie drives you back to the manor. Her sharing her own pregnancy experience.

"Wait, so Tim dated you when you were pregnant with another dudes kid? Babe, forget being me being small, you got game."

"Damn right I do." She says smugly, stuffing her own fries in her mouth. "So, um, do you wanna talk about what happened with you?"

And, just like that your mood shifts.

"No."

"Oh- Oh! I'm sorr-" She starts up, and you can tell she's assuming the worst.

"Don't you start, Stephanie." You interrupt with a pointed glare. "I don't want to talk about it because it's none of y'all's business."

That makes her cough on her french fry. "Wait, wait, what do you mean? Don't you want help?"

"Nah, I got it." Comes your stubborn reply, glaring out the window as you dip your fry into the cheesecake milkshake.

"... You should tell Bruce." She suggest after a moment of awkward silence.

"What? So he can ignore his grandchild, too?" Your filter is none existent with your hormones all out of wack.

"He doesn't ignore you-"

"Oh, yes the fuck he does." Your firmly state. Growing a bit heated. "Y'all all figgin do."

Stephanie is about to roll her eyes, chalking your words to you just being unreasonable. But, then the thought starts to creep upon her with each passing building when she realizes this is the first time she's actually hung out with you. Ever.

"I'm sorry." She murmurs to you. The silence falling over you both as the cars continues back to the manor.

"... I'm only forgiving you because you bought my fries..."

"Really?! That's all I had to do?"

"What? I was desperate for this- Wait! Hang on. Stop the car. Stop the car-"

"What? Why?! Are you- OH! Fuck!"

You ended up regurgitating up all the fries you had just eaten. Right into your lap.

"Oooo, that's nasty." Stephanie says, cracking the windows.

"Is it bad that I still want to eat them?" You mumble to her, eyeing the remaining fries.

"Please, please, wait till we get back or I'm gonna hurl, too."

"Fine." Comes your reply. Your eyes drifting shut for a moment. "If you tell anyone I'm gonna tell Cassandra about your crush on her."

"How did you- Frick, you are more like Bruce then I realize." Her voice going from panic to begrudging realization.

"Now, that's offenseive."

"Oh, come on. You're kids gonna have some of Bruce's DNA too."

"Eww. Eww. Don't remind me."

The banter between you both coming back with ease.

When you make it back to the manor, parting ways for the night. You feel at ease. You may have made have finally made a new friend in all this and gained a pillar of support.

As you shower and finish off your fries, you can't help but think about the apartments you had been looking at. Wondering what Stephanie will thinking of your nursery ideas.

Down in the cave, Stephanie slowly walks down the steps. Realizing this might have just gotten complicated.

"You okay, Steph?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Soooooo, what if, and hear me out, wee add some baby daddy drama to this?

A/N: Please note, I write a Reader that DID NOT grow up with the Bat Family, which means we could have some really really juicy drama here. But, we could just keep the options limited to just close friends of the Bat family.

A/N: What do y'all think? Baby Daddy drama? One of the Bat Boys the Daddy? One of the other vigilantes? Should I do a Baby Daddy poll? I just feel like this is an opportunity.

A/N: Also, Stephanie was a teen mom in some comics from my research. Which I think adds to this and gives her a better chance of bonding with Reader until shit goes down.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Since you've mentioned Scarlet Lady in one of your posts, what's your opinion on it?

I've mentioned before that I'm a big Scarlet Lady fan, which is the only reason that I'm comfortable answering asks like this one. I don't publicly criticize the content of hobby creators. That's wildly inappropriate! Punch up, not down.

The linked post was a general discussion of the adaptation process and how @zoe-oneesama did a fantastic job, so for this one, I'm just going to do some general gushing because I do actually like praising and enjoying things!

Scarlet Lady's chosen format (comic) allows it to have this wonderful conversation with canon where it can rely on the framework of canon to tell it's own story while also using canon for jokes and meta commentary. This means that Scarlet Lady is about as close as fan content can get to a direct reboot because it's able to have moments like this one from the comic's first post:

[Image description: Adrien standing in his room after transforming into Chat Noir for the first time. He is beaming and his eyes are shining with excitement as he exclaims, "This is gonna be awesome!"]

A single picture that communicates everything we need to know about Adrien getting his miraculous. When I've done this same thing in fanfic, I had to write out the full scene because that's how novels work. You have to give the full picture. With a comic, you can just quickly acknowledge this thing that we all already know and then move on to the new stuff. A picture really is worth a thousand words! (Or, in my case, more like two thousand...)

This allows Zoe to keep the same akumas that we get in canon without her story feeling like a boring rehash because she can focus on what's different in her version. A novelization of the same content would have to show both the stuff that stays the same and the stuff that changes for it to be coherent. That's a lot less fun to read and write. It's why I basically never revisit canon akumas in my own stuff. It's just too derivative for the written word.

This is one of the big reasons that I loved Scarlet Lady. Because it was able to have that more directly conversation with canon, it was able to take canon and say, "hey, why don't we embrace the tone that you established in season one and retell the story with that vibe?" That's something that I desperately wanted to see, but that is totally unsuited to my chosen artistic form. It couldn't be a novel. It had to be a comic.

If you want to know what a true formula show version of Miraculous would look like, Scarlet Lady is it. It does everything that Miraculous should have done:

Sticks to a lighthearted tone where nothing is ever super serious

Keeps Gabriel entirely unsympathetic

Has slow character development and background hints at a bigger plot as the only serial elements, allowing the individual episodes to be their own story while never feeling incomplete or rushed

Allows characters other than Marinette to shine while keeping Marinette as the clear main character

Makes Adrien narratively important

MAKES THE LOVE SQUARE CUTE SO I CAN ACTUALLY SHIP IT

Understands that Lila and Chloe can't coexist as antagonists

Reverses the love square, which is the best way to tell their story. Yes, I will die on my "love diamond" hill. It's a good hill. Come join me. I'll bring cookies.

I could keep going, but you hopefully get my point. While Scarlet Lady is certainly not the only way to do a formula version of canon, it's proof that a formula version does work! You don't have to go the serious route for Miraculous to be successful.

I want to take some time to gush about the ending, but I don't want to spoil it, so I'll put that gushing under a "read more" in case anyone hasn't seen it. I'll finish out this less spoilerish section with this:

I feel like some people are surprised when they learn that I love Scarlet Lady because - as some of you have probably picked up - it is quite different from my ideal version of canon. I'm not sure why that would stop me from enjoying a thing, though. It's important to remember that our personal ideals are not the only way to tell a good story. There are lots of ways to take what canon gave us and make something wonderful! It's part of the reason that I enjoy being in a fandom.

If I only wanted to see my ideal take on canon, then I'd stick to writing/imagining my own stories. But I don't want that! I like seeing alternate takes, too. Scarlet Lady is one of my personal favorites. It's completely different from anything that I'd ever think to write and that's why I'm so glad that it exists! I like being entertained just as much as I like creating my own entertainment and I don't want to only read stories that look like something I'd write. That's boring!

Spoilers below:

I've mentioned before that there are many, many ways to properly handle Chloe's character and Zoe did such a good job with her take on that! Chloe isn't absolved of all the things she did wrong, but she's also treated as a young woman with the ability to change.

While the comic bares the name of Chloe's alter ego, she was the never the main character. She never went on a journey. The story kept her to her shallow season-one self: a petty brat who just wanted attention. It did this because that's who Chloe was in canon and who Chloe needed to be for the comic to work.

The first time we see any complexity from Chloe is in the comic's final few episodes, which was absolutely the right call for Zoe to make! In a recent post, I talked about how the end of a formula show is the only time when you can break the formula in catastrophic ways and that's what Zoe did. She kept Chloe static until it was time to end the story and that's when the formula breaks. That's when Chloe gets depth because, once she has depth, the formula doesn't work.

That depth is not used to redeem Chloe, but to show us that there's hope for Chloe. That this petty brat who we've been dealing with has some serious issues and needs help. Help that she's going to get far away from the people that she's hurt because her issues aren't an excuse for what she's done. They don't erase the harm that she caused. At the same time, understanding her issues makes us hope that she can be better now and Scarlet Lady took a moment to give us that hope. To show us the START of Chloe's true story.

That is the kind of ending that I have wanted to see in so many properties!!! It was so wonderful to finally get one that did this right. A story that understood that full redemption to the team and damnation to death/suffering are extremes on a scale of possibilities. You don't have to go to extremes! You can fall in the middle and the middle is a perfect, natural place for Chloe to land in this kind of story. Fully redeeming or even fully damning Chloe simply doesn't work in lighthearted formula content. It's too big a lift as canon has already demonstrated.

I also loved Zoe's take on Emilie. I've mentioned that I don't like evil Emilie in part because it makes her revival feel like the start of a new story. She's back and she'd bad, so we have to take her down now! But I don't want that. I want the story to end when Gabriel is stopped. Zoe does this by giving us an Emilie that is another perfect middle ground. She matches canon's uncomfortable implications without feeling like a true villain who is a threat to society.

[gffa]

One thing that caught my attention while watching The Phantom Menace in the theater, a movie I didn't expect to find anything new with after how many times I've seen it and analyzed it, was that Sidious mentions multiple times that he has to change his plans to fit the new circumstances. It got me to thinking about how Palpatine gets credit for his carefully crafted plans, but often times not for how flexible he is in changing them on the fly, especially in time travel fics where someone destroys one of his plans and that's the end of it. Which, I'm not advocating against, I love a good Take That Wrinkled Walnut The Fuck Down However You Gotta Do It fic and I don't want them to change! But in canon Palpatine makes note of things he's not expecting, like:

When Valorum sends the Jedi as ambassadors, it's not part of Sidious' plan: DAULTAY DOFINE: This scheme of yours has failed, Lord Sidious. The blockade is finished. We dare not go against the Jedi. DARTH SIDIOUS: Viceroy, I don't want this stunted slime in my sight again! This turn of events is unfortunate. We must accelerate our plans. Begin landing your troops. NUTE GUNRAY: My lord, is that… legal? DARTH SIDIOUS: I will make it legal. NUTE GUNRAY: And the Jedi? DARTH SIDIOUS: The Chancellor should never have brought them into this. Kill them immediately!

On the Trade Federation ship, after Queen Amidala has disappeared from Naboo, Palpatine originally planned that she would be forced to sign the treaty, and then brings in Maul to deal with this. DARTH SIDIOUS: And Queen Amidala, has she signed the treaty? NUTE GUNRAY: She has disappeared, My Lord. One Naboo cruiser got pat the blockade. DARTH SIDIOUS: I want that treaty signed. NUTE GUNRAY: My Lord, it's impossible to locate the ship. It's out of our range. DARTH SIDIOUS: Not for a Sith. This is my apprentice. Darth Maul. He will find your lost ship.

On Naboo, after Padme allies with the Gungans: NUTE GUNRAY: We've sent out patrols. We've already located their starship in the swamp....It won't be long, My Lord. DARTH SIDIOUS: This is an unexpected move for her. It's too aggressive. Lord Maul, be mindful. MAUL: Yes, my Master. DARTH SIDIOUS: Be patient... Let them make the first move.

Palpatine's plans aren't static, they adapt and change with the events that happen, just as the other characters react to new information and head in new directions for it, so too does Palpatine and I think it's interesting to note that part of what makes him such a good villain is that he has an outline for what he wants to do, he sets up the dominoes of what he needs, but even when they don't fall precisely into place, he generally gets what he wants. He originally intended that Padme would sign the treaty, the Jedi wouldn't be involved, and that would lead to a vote of No Confidence to oust Valorum, using the sympathy for Naboo as a way to boost himself into the position. But he didn't really need her to sign it and still managed to use the sympathy for Naboo to get elected, it ultimately didn't matter what happened to the planet, so long as it was in danger while he needed it to be, he could use it either way. Nor, honestly, do I think he ever planned for Anakin Skywalker's existence, he had no idea they would find such a boy on Tatooine or how useful he was going to be, that was another way he changed his plans once the opportunity arose. Or a lot of his plots in TCW--he has Cad Bane steal the list of Force-sensitive children and kidnap them, bringing them to Mustafar for some sort of program to use them probably not too unlike how he uses the Inquisitors later. That plan is foiled by the Jedi, the babies are returned to their families, and Sidious' plans fall through, but that doesn't really change the outcome. tl:dr: I don't think Palpatine gets enough credit as a villain whose plans shift and change along with the new events that happen, just as much as the heroes' plans shift and change when new things happen. Yeah, he's a great villain because he creates an impossible trap for people, but also because the thing about him is that he's incredibly charming and charismatic and he knows an opportunity when he sees one, that any one given plan might fall through, but it's not necessary to his overall plot.

[kikyoupdates]

Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

story masterlist | next

What the actual fuck.

You blink, absolutely dumbfounded. There’s some kind of grotesque, insect-like creature in front of you, buzzing obnoxiously as it flaps its wings. It bears the appearance of a fly, at least somewhat, but it’s much bigger than a normal fly, and its face looks like it came straight out of a low-budget horror movie. 

The point is, it’s not normal. It's not the kind of thing you’ve ever seen before. At the very least, not in real life. 

And yet, you’re the only one who seems to notice it.

“...I keep telling you, it’s weird,” a girl mumbles, scratching her neck impatiently. “I can’t get rid of it. There’s this chill that follows me around no matter where I go, and my shoulders feel weirdly heavy lately. I even went to a chiropractor to see if it would help. I feel so gross these days.” 

The fly-like creature is hovering closely above the girl, a disturbing smile plastered across its already unattractive face. It’s literally right next to her, and not only her, but the other girls that are gathered around. They’re all just talking like nothing’s even going on. Completely blind to the abnormal presence that lurks nearby. 

You’re the only one who can see that yucky-looking thing. How does that make any sense? How is it even possible for something like that to exist in real life? 

Actually… where are you right now? 

Once again, you blink. Something utterly strange is happening. The last thing you remember is going to bed, in your perfectly ordinary bedroom, so how in the world did you wake up in the middle of what appears to be a field? 

You’re at a school, by the looks of things. But certainly not the school you’re used to attending. It seems like you’re even wearing some unfamiliar uniform, and it would make sense for this to be a dream, but by all accounts, it’s way too realistic. 

Pinching your cheek doesn’t help. The scenery refuses to change, and sure enough, the creature is still hanging above that girl. It even lets out a shrill, high-pitched laugh (which she of course doesn’t hear), almost as if it’s taunting her.

You’re not sure what you should be doing right now. This is all one hell of a mindfuck, if you’re being honest. But that creature can’t be good news, and even though you’re admittedly pretty scared, it seems like you’re the only one who can see it. You’re the only one who even realizes it’s here. 

Swallowing your apprehension, you take a deep breath and approach. 

“Excuse me…?”

You call out to the group of girls. There’s no easy way to break this to them. How do you bring up the fact that there’s some weird creature in the vicinity? If they can’t see it, there’s no reason they’ll even believe you. They’ll probably just think you’re crazy or something. 

As it so happens, though, you aren’t required to recount some absurd, seemingly nonsensical tale. 

You’ve barely taken two steps forward when all of a sudden, the creature sharply turns its head in your direction. 

And then it screams. 

Just like its laugh, the sound is high-pitched and wholly unpleasant. You’re not even sure what prompted that kind of reaction, since it seemed pretty chill up until this point, but now, it’s trembling like a leaf in the wind. 

You’re worried that you might have triggered it somehow, and that it’s going to attack you, but that doesn’t happen either. It turns out that the scream it just let out wasn’t one of aggression, but rather, fear. 

So, it flies off before you can get any closer, and the girl who was complaining until just a few moments ago suddenly blinks, expression brightening.

“Whoa, wait,” she mumbles in disbelief. “It’s… it’s gone. I think I feel better now. No way. It’s actually gone! I thought it would never end!”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just all in your head?” one of the other girls frowns, visibly unconvinced. She then turns towards you. “Oh. Sorry, were you talking to us just now? I didn’t really hear what you said.” 

“Uh.” 

You’re not sure what to say. The whole reason you came over was so you could warn them about that weird creature, but it disappeared in the blink of an eye. It screamed right as it saw your face—which is kind of offensive, honestly—and then it flew off like no one’s business. 

A bit hesitant, you try asking, “Sorry if this sounds weird, but where are we right now?” 

Now it’s their turn to look dumbfounded. You can only imagine how visceral their reaction would have been if you’d actually brought up the weird fly creature. 

“What do you mean where are we? We’re… at school, where else?” 

The girl gestures all around her, as if it should be obvious. Granted, you deduced as much, but that wasn’t really what you were asking. All of this is just so ridiculous. How in the world does a person manage to go to sleep in their own room and wake up someplace they’ve never been before?

The group decides to walk away, probably because you weirded them out with your stupid question, and you can even hear them whispering amongst themselves. 

“Why’d she even ask that all of a sudden…?” 

“I don’t know. She transferred here just recently, right? Maybe she’s still getting used to things. It was kind of weird, though.” 

They keep talking about it as they leave, probably not realizing you can still hear them. Whatever. You’ve got bigger fish to fry right now. As things stand, you woke up god-knows-where, and you just saw some freakish creature a second ago, so you’re starting to worry that you might be going insane. 

The only explanation is that this has to be some kind of dream. A lucid dream, perhaps? That’s what they call these kinds of things, right?

This is way too freaky, though. Can I make myself wake up? I really don’t like this. It gives me the creeps. 

You desperately try to force yourself awake, but regretfully, it doesn’t work. And you’re not even given much time to speculate on the issue any further. 

A soccer ball comes flying at you and hits you right in the face.

It hurts. It hurts like fucking hell. In fact, it hurts so much that you’re knocked flat onto your back, groaning as you cradle your poor nose, which feels like it’s just been split open. 

“...holy shit, are you okay?!” 

You can hear a student running towards you, but since you’re lying on your back convinced you’re about to die, you don’t pay it much mind. The immense amount of pain you’re feeling is absurd. Even for a lucid dream, isn’t this too much?

However, things are only about to get weirder. 

Like way, way weirder. 

“I’m so sorry!” the same student apologizes. It’s a boy, by the sounds of it, and you hear him drop to his knees beside you. “I swear I wasn’t even trying to kick the ball that hard! I barely even used any force!”

From afar, another student chimes in. “Even when you hold back, you’re way too strong, Itadori! Is she dead? You killed her, didn’t you?”

Did he just say… Itadori? 

For just a moment, the pain subsides, and clarity overtakes your features. You manage to squint your eyes open and find a boy staring down at you. A boy with bright brown eyes, and spiky pink hair styled in an undercut. 

A boy that you’ve most definitely seen before. 

Your jaw drops open. There’s just no way. This is… Itadori Yuji? The protagonist of Jujutsu Kaisen? A fictional series, which, by definition, means he doesn’t actually exist? 

Yet here he is, fussing over you and looking immeasurably guilty for having just kicked a soccer ball in your face. And even though you keep trying to tell yourself that this is a dream, it’s getting harder and harder to deny. The sensations you feel—the pain, the confusion, and the excited fluttering in your chest—are impossible to ignore.

It all makes sense now. That weird creature you saw earlier was a cursed spirit. That explains why those girls didn’t even notice it. Ordinary humans normally can’t perceive curses. Most of the time, they’re completely unaware of their existence.

You realize how utterly absurd this is. People don’t just wake up and find themselves sucked into their favorite anime. No matter how badly some fans might wish for it, this kind of thing just doesn’t happen.

Or at least, it’s not supposed to.

“Wait, your—your nose is bleeding!” Itadori exclaims. “I need to get you to the infirmary! Can you walk? Or should I carry you?” 

He appears frantic, which of course he is, since he’s a good guy. He’s the kind of guy who always cares about others. A guy with a big heart, a friendly demeanor, and a penchant for justice. Truly, the perfect protagonist. 

…so, is this seriously happening right now?

“I-I’m fine,” you try to insist. “I just… need a moment. And then I’ll be okay.” 

Itadori seems entirely unconvinced, so you suspect your nose is probably bleeding even more than you fear. Right now, you honestly couldn’t care less, though. Your heart is pounding relentlessly. The excitement and awe you feel can’t even be put into words.

“I’ll take you to the infirmary,” Itadori says again. He resists the urge to outright pick you up into his arms, and after a moment’s pause, he offers you his hand instead. “Here. Try standing up. If not, I’ll carry you there, okay?” 

It’s difficult just to form a response. You’re overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of his presence. The fact that you’re face to face with someone you never thought you’d be able to see in person, let alone speak to. 

But even if it seems hard to believe, even if it makes you want to question your sanity, this is real. This is actually happening. 

And so, you take his hand—changing the course of your life as you know it. 

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[scottiexmariee]

omg ive been highly enjoying ur fics and hcs!!! i think u wrote their characters very spot on 🥺 the jail one got me thinking... can i request the lads boys reacting to the reader getting in trouble after punching someone. bc someone talked shit about the boys and wanted to defend their honor or smth lmfao ty!!! 💕

omg anon lemme kiss u on the forehead 

I almost did a backflip when I read this, I was so happy to write it. This one took a bit longer to write so I do apologize, but I was reeeeally on a mission to deliver some good plot here

Some are a bit longer (coughSyluscough) but I really hope you enjoy <3

Defending Their Honor

Pairings: Xavier x Reader | Zayne x Reader | Rafayel x Reader | Sylus x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k (oops)

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Lore references. Reader throwing hands. FEELINGS. Soft Sylus. -Scottie is allergic to happiness.

Masterlist

Note: I got possessed when I wrote Sylus' and probably should have made him his own fic. I am not sorry. It is longer than the others. I am bashing my head against the keyboard. Please forgive me.

☆ “While I’m honored, you didn’t have to do that on my behalf,”

☆ ^ Giggling and kicking his feet on the inside though

☆ He’d also return the favor with no hesitation if the situation was ever reversed

☆ ^ You will NOT diss his lady in his presence

☆ Y’all are def cuddling for the rest of the night as soon as you get home

Xavier really needed to learn to stop taking his eyes off of you when the two of you were out in public. 

The two of you had gone on a fun little outing to Linkon’s version of a pop-up carnival. There were games, food vendors, live music, and tons of people. He knew how badly you’d wanted to go, so of course you nearly jumped right into his arms when he showed up at your apartment after lunch and told you to get ready.

So far, it had been good. The two of you had played a couple games, won some prizes, even took chances with a few questionable rides. You had walked around, hand in hand, enjoying each other’s presence and making new memories together.

It had been seconds. Seconds. You were both, unsurprisingly, hungry after walking around for a few hours. Xavier, being the knight in shining armor that he is, had walked up to one of the nearby food vendors to grab a snack for the two of you, innocently leaving you near a blue park bench. When he finished, you had disappeared. 

He stared at the now empty park bench, snacks in hand, completely baffled. He did a quick scan of the area, only to see a bunch of people he didn’t know, and someone being escorted to the exit by two security officers.

But that person almost looked like they were wearing the same outfit as you.

Xavier squinted. Surely not, right?

He caught up quickly, nearly stumbling when his suspicions were confirmed. That was absolutely you being dragged to the front of the park.

He lagged behind quietly, saying nothing, but already accepting the fact that your fun carnival date was apparently over. 

You were given a verbal warning and kicked out of the park, being told not to come back for the remainder of this year’s visit. If you came back, it would be trespassing.

You were getting ready to text Xavier when you realized he was right in front of you, nibbling on some type of skewer he’d gotten from the vendor. “Sooo…” He began, eyeing you curiously.

“I may or may not have slapped someone,”

His eyes immediately widened, his mind running through every possible scenario. 

“What happened? Did someone touch you?” He reached out and grabbed your wrist, eyes scanning every inch of exposed skin for injuries. 

“No! No, it’s….nothing like that,” 

His eyebrows furrowed. “Then….?”

Suddenly, you were a bit embarrassed. It had been so stupid. How was he even going to react to this?

When Xavier had left you by the bench, a man that looked to be around your age approached and asked for your number.

“I know you just saw me with someone.”

“So?”

“Not interested,”

“Why? Because of that loser? You could do better.”

That was it. That was the reason you’d backhanded the disrespect right out of that man’s bloodline. 

Xavier was….so many things. Incredibly kind, thoughtful, and just so deliciously him. You adored him the same way he adored you, and had him on a pedestal that no one could even close to touching. You could do better? Not possible. There was not a soul in this galaxy that was better than Xavier. At least, not to you.

Hearing someone speak lowly of him when you truthfully couldn’t even articulate how incredible he was? Yeah, instant slap. 

You kept your explanation short. “Some guy called you a loser,” You said, rubbing your arm sheepishly. 

Xavier almost giggled. 

“So….you slapped him?” 

You pressed your lips into a thin line, the reality of how out-of-pocket the whole thing was finally setting in.

Surprisingly, Xavier laughed. It was soft, filled with fondness and mirth. He pulled you into a loving embrace, placing a soft kiss on the top of your forehead. He'd be lying to the both of you if he said he wouldn't do something similar.

“I’m honored,” He began, his voice muffled by your hair, “but you don’t have to slap people on my behalf,”

“I’ll always defend you, whether you’re in the room or not,” You responded, your tone firm and completely serious. 

Xavier stood there for a moment, arms wrapped around you still, feeling like the luckiest guy alive. The thought of you backhanding someone for calling him something as simple as a loser was almost hysterical, yet it filled him with a warmth he couldn’t explain. You were really something else. 

After a moment, he pulled back, interlacing his fingers with yours. “Let’s go. There’s plenty of time left for us to turn this night around,”

❅ okay listen I love Zayne

❅ but he's kinda emotionally constipated sometimes (at least on the OUTSIDE)

❅ the logical side of him wants to scold you and tell you that this wasn't necessary

❅ but the emotional side, the side that is harder for him to articulate, is lowkey flattered that you'd go that far to defend his name

Zayne slowly paced back and forth in the lobby of the city’s police station, the only sounds in the room being the tap of his shoes on the linoleum floor and the ticking of a clock on the wall. He glanced toward the clock. It had been 20 minutes since he’d come to retrieve you, and he was growing impatient. 

The two of you were in another city for an awards banquet. You’d come along simply to support Zayne, your absolute favorite person in existence (who just so happened to be an incredible Doctor that was receiving multiple awards for his work).

Imagine Zayne’s surprise when the banquet ended and he couldn’t find you anywhere. It was extremely out of character for you to disappear when it came to things like this, especially while you were in an unfamiliar place. This wasn’t Linkon. You wouldn’t have simply left without so much as a ‘congratulations’, not to mention that Zayne had been your ride here. 

By the third time your phone had gone to voicemail, Zayne was nervous. That was when he started asking around. He’d pulled up a photo of you, showing it to various employees and asking if anyone had happened to see you leave. 

It was a security guard that told him you’d been arrested.

He left immediately, having the directions already pulled up before he made it out to the car. 

Now, he paced, an amalgamation of concern, confusion, and stress. 

A buzzing sound emanated from somewhere down the hall, and Zayne’s head whipped toward the sound to see you being led out by an officer, still wearing the outfit that matched his tie color. 

The red knuckles weren’t easy to miss. 

While he did still open the car door for you, he chose a tactical silence for the duration of the car ride. There wouldn’t be a single word spoken until you were back in the hotel room. This was a calculated method by Zayne. He knew you’d be absolutely squirming by the time you guys made it back, and that was exactly what he wanted. 

The door to your shared room clicked shut behind Zayne, who’d entered behind you. He leaned against it, folding his arms over his chest. He raised an expectant eyebrow at you, his eye flitting between your flustered face and reddened knuckles on your dominant hand. 

It was hard to take him seriously when he looked that handsome in a tux.

“I…may have overreacted,” You finally said, your voice coming out timid. 

“Can you go anywhere without picking a fight?” He responded, his tone exasperated. 

You swallowed. 

“I can…”

Zayne took a steadying breath. He moved from the door and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Tell me what happened,”

You had been out looking at all of the posters on the wall, reading the lists of different accomplishments and awards printed under each attendee, waiting for the banquet to end. Zayne had already received his awards, but was still backstage and not allowed to leave. Some of the audience, including you, had stepped out of the auditorium throughout the banquet. You had originally just wanted some air. The auditorium had been stuffy, and the fancy outfit you had on was not helping. 

While you were out admiring the different posters, you heard a woman making some pretty rude comments about the poster she and her friends were in front of. At first, you just scoffed. You couldn’t imagine being so bitter. Was it so hard to be supportive of others, even if they weren’t the one you came for?

And then, you realized which poster she was standing in front of. 

Zayne.

Imagine this: You happen to be involved with an incredibly smart, talented, and stunning man that just so happens to be a Chief Cardiac Surgeon at only 27 years old. The same man that has made evolutionary discoveries and progress in treating cardiac abnormalities. The same man that you absolutely adored, and wanted nothing but the absolute best for. All of this is great, right? Now imagine hearing someone say something completely horrible about him right in front of you.

At first, the confrontation had started off as just a scolding. You’d told the woman that it wasn’t right to say horrible things about the attendees. They all did such incredible things that they were receiving awards for, after all. This was not the place for such behavior. 

And then, she just….kept going. 

Before long, you’d quickly ended the conversation with an abrupt bitch-slap. Security had already been approaching when your hand connected with her face. You weren’t going to tell Zayne this, but you’d actually gotten tackled. 

You gave Zayne the shortened version of the story, leaving out all of the gushing. 

Initially, he was quiet again as he tried to process what you’d just told him. 

Lady. Talking bad. Zayne. Slap.

For a moment, he couldn’t understand why you’d even resort to that. But when he looked at you, looking at him with eyes full of love and respect, he softened a little. While he didn’t necessarily agree with your methods, who was he to dictate how a person should react to any scenario?

He patted the spot next to him, still trying to form an appropriate response. You sat willingly, leaning into his side. He looped an arm around your waist. 

You sat in silence for a few minutes longer before he finally spoke. 

“The logical part of me should scold you, (Y/N). That was a bit overboard,” 

You looked up at him. His words implied that the logical part of him wasn’t the one that was winning whatever internal battle he had going on. “And what does the other part of you think?”

He sighed, pressing his forehead against yours. “Truthfully?”

You nodded, nearly melting at the sudden affection. His lips showed the faintest hint of a smile. “Truthfully, I’m flattered,”

❀yk how Raf blushes and pouts when you do the Heartbeat interaction??

❀ yeahhhh

❀ but also.....feelings

When Rafayel learned you’d been thrown out of his newest exhibition, he was initially pretty offended. He didn’t even want to be there to begin with. You were the only reason he’d forced himself to come, though he’d never admit it out loud. He had an arsenal of complaints ready to fire off the second he met you outside, after he reasoned with security, of course. 

It was Thomas who had weaved through the crowd, placed an urgent hand on Rafayel’s shoulder, and leaned close to speak for only the artist’s ears: “Security just dragged (Y/N) out of here. She hit someone,” 

The confrontation had luckily gone mostly unnoticed. It happened quick, and security had whisked you out. You’d gone willingly, and the man you’d struck no longer felt like sticking around either. 

Somewhere during the short walk from the back of the building to the front doors, your reason for lashing out had gotten lost in translation. Rafayel was under the impression that you’d thrown hands because someone had dissed his art. 

That, however, was an unfortunate misunderstanding. 

It wasn’t his art that the man had described as ‘worthless.’ It was Rafayel. 

Rafayel had smooth-talked security into letting you come back inside, with the condition that you would not be a problem for the remainder of the night. 

Rafayel had been flattered, but definitely thought you’d overreacted. 

“Not everyone can say they have a bodyguard this protective over art,” He teased, casting an amused glance in your direction. “Think we can make it through the rest of today without another attack?” 

You’d rolled your eyes, still a bit peeved. Who the hell comes to an exhibit specifically to dog the artist, anyway? “That’s not even what happened,” You grumbled. 

“People critique art all the tiiime. That doesn’t mean they should get assaulted over it,” 

“It’s different,” 

“I’m just saying. I’ve never punched anyone at an art gallery. Maybe you’re taking the Bodyguard title too seriously,” 

“Rafayel. You were the art,” 

Rafayel came to an abrupt stop, the air seemingly vanishing from his lungs. He’d heard you. He’d definitely heard you. His brain, however, was doing backflips, struggling to process your last sentence. 

You were the art. 

The gears clicked into place, his cheeks burning hotter and hotter with each passing second. In all honesty, he was conflicted. He was torn between the all-encompassing warmth, the feeling of being appreciated and thought so highly of that you would deck someone in the face purely for speaking ill on his name. The other half of him felt almost bitter. 

You were that same silly girl with a bad memory. And yet, here you were, fighting someone off of instinct when they said something nasty about him. 

You could do that, yet there was so much you couldn’t remember.

He was in a war with his thoughts and emotions, and unbeknownst to you, you were once again the cause. 

He finally collected himself, masking the emotional roller coaster he’d just been on with a chuckle. He patted the top of your head, settling on a teasing comment rather than risking opening the floodgates. 

“You’re so weird, Miss Bodyguard,” 

Rafayel would end up finding you in every lifetime, over and over again, no matter the cost. He’d remember every promise, every touch, every stolen moment. Yet, in every single timeline, you always found a way to make his head spin and his heart do cartwheels in his chest. 

This would forever stick out as one of those moments.  

⟡ Soft Sylus.

⟡ Soft Sylus.

⟡ SOFT SYLUS.

Sylus had invited you to tag along on yet another negotiation. He’d claimed he just liked having you at his side, but he truthfully respected your input more than he’d admit out loud. He’d often bring you along under the guise of keeping him company, but would subtly pay attention to your body language and facial expressions. If you weren’t going to bite, neither was he. 

After the first negotiation you attended, you as Sylus’ +1 became a much more frequent occurrence. As long as he was in the room, your safety was guaranteed. Not to mention how a lot of potential deals went off a little smoother when you were in the room to ease the tension. 

Today, the two of you were headed to a hotel a few cities away to meet with a man named Michael. You didn’t have many details about the deal, but you had the basics. If there was anything you needed to know, Sylus would tell you. 

It had taken you exactly 6 seconds after entering the room to decide that you did not like Michael. There was just something about him that had already gotten on your nerves. The arrogance? The ‘up-to-no-good’ vibe he absolutely reeked of?  The way he looked at the two of you like you were nothing more than pests the moment you walked in? 

While it was just you and Sylus on your side of the bargain, Michael had 6 armed guards scattered through the room, which added to your irritation. Michael was clearly a man that thrived off intimidation, yet was too cowardly to have an even playing field. 

Sylus never lost his nonchalance. He strode in like he had nothing to lose, suave and unbothered. He kept a hand pressed lightly against the small of your back as he guided you to a seat, a silent reassurance that everything would be fine.

The meeting had began, but not without Sylus catching how your mood had soured considerably within the first 10 minutes. 

The more Michael talked, the shadier the whole ordeal seemed. He was boasting about some modified protocore that was the ‘best on the market,’ and trying to goad Sylus into purchasing it. 

Sylus wasn’t dumb by any means. But Sylus was also a man that would humor someone for his own entertainment. “Show it to me,” He said, his tone even.

One of the guards gestured for Sylus to follow, and he immediately turned to you, waiting for you to come as well. Instead, you shook your head. You didn’t want to risk being ambushed when you came back if both of you left. Sylus trusted your judgment, knowing that he would be gone for less than 5 minutes. With a quiet “Behave,” cast in your direction, he disappeared with the guard. 

The second the door shut behind him, Michael turned to one of his guards and said something you probably weren’t supposed to hear.  “I’m going to walk that bastard like a dog, just watch.” 

Oh? 

In hindsight, it would have been better to keep your mouth shut. All you had to do was give Sylus a signal when he returned, and he would call this off with no hesitation. Your opinion mattered, after all. He didn’t just bring you to these meetings to serve as eye candy. Knowing this, you should have just brushed Michael’s comment off. However, it had gotten under your skin in a way you couldn’t shake off. The words were leaving your mouth before you could stop them.

“I’d like to see you try,” 

Michael, and all 5 of his remaining guards, immediately looked at you as if locking onto a target. The tension in the room intensified considerably.

Michael scoffed, looking at you as if you were a bug he’d stepped on. You glanced toward the door Sylus had stepped out of moments before, half expecting him to be standing there with an amused smirk on his face. He wasn’t, though.

Michael was on his feet, taking slow steps toward the chair you were sitting in. Despite the shaking in your fingers, you stayed put. “You must think so highly of him,” He drawled, zeroing in on you. “I didn’t know a man like that could catch the attention of a pretty thing like you,”

You didn’t know why, but your anger was rising with each passing second. The implication of his words was clear, but you wanted to hear him say it. It was obvious that he thought of himself higher than Sylus, and clearly didn’t have many polite thoughts about him. You and Sylus weren’t necessarily a… ‘thing,’ per se. Not yet, anyway.  So why did this piss you off so badly?

“A man like what?” You challenged, staring up at Michael. In your lap, your hands, that had been neatly folded, were slowly clenching into fists.

Michael's mouth twisted into a wolfish, arrogant grin. “I’d say he takes up more space than he’s worth. Cocky, foolish, insufferable–”

Your fist had connected with his jaw before he could get another word out, sending him stumbling backwards, clutching his jaw as he tried to regain his footing. 

It would take you about a week to fully process how the next 15 seconds had gone.

At first, the silence was so intense that you could audibly hear the rapid beat of your own heart.

Then, guns were raised and pointed directly at you. 5 from the guards, all at separate angles, and one directly in front of you from Michael himself. 

Next, gunfire. A lot of gunfire. Multiple shots ringing out from 6 different directions. 

You weren’t exactly sure when Sylus had entered, but he apparently had the timing of a God. You’d been whisked out of harm's way, somehow completely uninjured. You realized later that he likely used his evol somewhere in the mix.

Once safely away from the hotel, Sylus turned to face you, lips set in a thin line but his expression otherwise neutral. He studied you for a long moment. 

“That went well,” He said, his tone lacking any amusement. “Should I not trust you enough to leave you unattended for two minutes?”

You folded your arms over your chest. You didn’t trust the sound of your voice yet. You knew you owed him an explanation, but the adrenaline was still too high and you were still too angry to speak.

Sylus checked you for any injuries and then, to your surprise, grabbed your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.  

“You need to be more careful who you pick fights with,” He warned. His tone was firm, but not unkind. He knew you were more than capable of handling yourself. It was one of the things he appreciated about you. However, the fight today had left a bitter taste in his mouth. This was the first time he hadn’t been in the room the entire time. It could have been a lot worse, and you weren’t bulletproof. This was the first time he’d left you alone for more than 30 seconds, and it had ended with you in a shootout. 

“Maybe he shouldn’t have been talking shit about you the second you walked away,” You retorted, your voice coming out bitter. “Right in front of me. It was just…disrespectful.”

Sylus, who had assumed Michael had started it on his own, was stunned. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t have any quips or sarcastic comments to make. That was what had caused the fight? You, the same person that used to look at him with so much distrust and caution, had thrown yourself into a fight to defend his name while he wasn’t in the room. 

Sylus was silent for a moment, his eyes combing your face for any hint of deception. When your words finally sank in, he nearly melted on the spot. The adoration he’d already felt was intensified. The warmth he felt in his chest was almost too much, and he wasn’t sure whether he should scold you or kiss you. 

Instead, he gently tugged you against his chest, choosing to simply hold you for a moment. It felt like the only correct option. His chin rested against the top of your head, one arm looped around your back as the other cradled your head. He was absolutely flattered, and outrageously smitten.

Yeah, he had it bad. 

“Just when I think I have you figured out, you go and do something else that surprises me,” He murmured fondly, rubbing small circles into your back. You were an endless mystery to him. But as he stood there, holding you against him, he knew he’d happily spend the rest of his life trying to figure you out. 

Note: 1.4k words just for Sylus I am SO SORRY but I needed this man getting all soft with this prompt slkdhjsalkhd 

[evnseokz]

{ ☆ breaking the ice - p.sh }

pairing: closed off! sunghoon x f. reader

contents: somewhat reserved sunghoon (at first), lowk down bad sunghoon, jake is an extra in this, kind of typical guy saves girl party scene, smut at the end, dry humping, making out, a little fluff, mostly just sappy romance, maybe slight angst if you squint

based off this request here

a.n: tysm anon for the request!! i hope i did it justice. i focused a lot on the plot and dialogue in this one, w.c. 2.6k

MINORS DNI

sunghoon had always been the silent anchor of his friend group, the one who seemed to glide through life with an effortless coldness that both intrigued and confused those around him. He rarely piped up, preferring to observe from the background, his thoughts hidden behind a mask of nonchalance. it wasn’t that he didn't care; rather, he found solace in the quietude of his own company.

up until you entered the scene, invited by his friend jake for a casual lunch that would unknowingly disrupt his carefully maintained solitude. at first, sunghoon regarded you with mild indifference, his responses curt as you attempted to chip away at his icy exterior. but as the days stretched on, you began to see each other more often, and your laughter filled the spaces he had always left empty. something in him began to shift, tugging at the corners of his guarded heart.

——

flash forward to a couple weeks later, jake was throwing an afterparty for some event he held previously that had to do with his band. he held the party at his house, as it was big enough to withstand the amount of people he invited. sunghoon was standing, leaning against the wall of the crowded abode, his drink in his hand as he scanned the room. laughter and music mingled in the air, but his focus was solely on you. you were standing by the kitchen island, chatting animatedly, a bright smile lighting up your face. but it wasn’t just your smile that held his attention; it was also the guy next to you.

“come on, just a little more fun, right?” the guy said, his fingers brushing against your arm in a way that made sunghoon’s blood boil. sunghoon recognized this guy, everyone knew he had a reputation as a smooth talker and troublemaker. the kind of guy who toyed with people like you for fun. “maybe we should just stay here?” you replied, your tone playful but laced with uncertainty. sunghoon’s heart raced at the sight of you inching away from the kitchen. “aw, don't be like that,” the guy laughed, leaning in closer. “i promise it’ll be worth it.”

sunghoon could see you visibly stiffen, clearly uncomfortable with the situation, and he couldn’t take it anymore. ‘hey!” he pushed off the wall, his legs carrying him across the room with determination. “what’s going on here?” you turned, surprise flickering in your eyes. how long had he been watching you? “sunghoon! we were just—“ “just what?” he interrupted, trying to keep his voice steady. “you were about to go... where?”

“just to the bathroom,” the guy interrupted with a smirk. “no harm done.” “yeah, well, its not a good idea,” sunghoon shot back, stepping between you and the guy. “you don't need to follow her, man. she can find it on her own.” “relax, it’s just a quick walk,” the guy said, crossing his arms, his bravado oozing. sunghoon felt the heat rise to his cheeks. “not with you. not ever,” he spewed. you looked between the two, confusion mixing with concern. “sunghoon, it’s fine. really,” you say, seemingly trying to ease his growing frustration.

“no, its not fine,” he insisted, his voice rising slightly. this is probably the most you’d ever heard him talk. “you don’t know what they say about this guy; he’s bad news y/n.” sunghoon pleads with you. the guy chuckled, but it was an empty sound. “a little jealous, huh? cute."  “call it what you want,” sunghoon said, his gaze locked on you. “but im not letting you walk away with him. not like this.” your expression shifted, realization drawing. “sunghoon, i appreciate it, but i can handle myself.”

“maybe you can, but i don't trust him.” the words spilled out, raw and desperate. “you deserve better than some guy who only sees you as a piece of meat.” a silence hung between them, heavy with unspoken words. sunghoon took a breath, his heart racing. “i want to be the one who gets to know you. not him.  you’re worth more than this.” your gaze softened, and for the first time, sunghoon saw something flicker in your eyes—maybe understanding, maybe something more.

“okay,” you said softly. “let’s stay here, then.” sunghoon exhaled, relief flooding his body, but he didn’t take his eyes off the guy who was still lingering around. “and you can back off.” his gaze stern as he looked him in the eyes. the guy rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of wariness now. “fine, whatever. your loss."  he spoke childishly as he walked away. sunghoon turned to you, searching your face. “i meant what i said,” he said softly. “i know,” you replied, a hint of a smile creeping in on your face. “thank you for stepping in.”

“i just—“ he hesitated, heart pounding with a mix of fear and hope. “i don't want to lose you to guys like him. i want to be the one you trust.” your expression shifted again, this time filled with something deeper. “then show me. show me you’re the one.” sunghoon nodded, feeling a spark of courage ignite within him. “i will. just give me a chance.” he took your hands in his as he spoke, his gaze softening as he looked you in the eyes.

“i never dubbed you as the jealous type,” you giggled, eyes gleaming up at sunghoon. one of his hands reached behind his neck to scratch nervously. “me neither,” he laughs with you. silence falls upon you two, awkwardness suddenly seeping in. you take a sip of your drink, and look around the room. not quite sure what to do next. sunghoon rocks on the balls of his feet, also unsure of the next move he should make. suddenly, a very tipsy jake stumbles his way over to the two of you. “hey guys! what’re you up toooo,” his words slur slightly as he speaks, placing himself in between the two of you, an arm thrown around each of your shoulders. you and sunghoon glance at each other nervously, not sure what to say. “uh, i think we’re actually about to head out!” sunghoon says quickly, pursing his lips afterwards. you nod in agreement as jake lets out a loud whine. “alreadyyyyy?!” he pouts. sunghoon laughs at his friend before pulling him off of your shoulders. he looks him in the face and grabs the red solo cup in his hand, and setting it on the counter. “i think you should call it a night too,” he says. jake shakes his head no before stumbling off again.

sunghoon pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers, clearly disappointed in his friend. “he’ll crash eventually,” you snicker. sunghoon laughs with you before reaching out and grabbing your hand in his. “so, about heading out?” he asks, and all you have to do is nod before he’s pulling you through the sea of people and out the front door. “did you drive?” he asks. you shake your head no. “i took an uber,” you reply. sunghoon nods in satisfaction. he rocks on the balls of his feet again, suddenly becoming hyperaware of the fact that you are alone together right now. “do you maybe wanna come back to mine?” he asks, his voice shaking with nerves. “i’d very much like that, yes,” you beam up at him. he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding before beckoning you to follow him to his car. he opens the passenger door for you, letting you sit down before leaning across you to buckle you in. your breath hitches in your throat at the proximity, the scent of his cologne filling your nostrils as he stands back up. “t-thank you,” you say coyly, toying with the hem of your skirt. sunghoon nods a quick no problem before shutting the door and walking around to get in the driver's seat.

the ride to sunghoons apartment is quiet. sunghoon focused on the road in front of him while you watched the night sky out of the window. once pulled up to his place, he unbuckles and gets out of the car, headed over to the passenger side. you unbuckle your seatbelt before he even opens the door, afraid his smell in such close proximity to you will drive you wild. once the door is open, you scurry out of the car, almost tripping in the process, but luckily sunghoon was able to grab your arm, steadying you. “easy there; don't want you getting hurt,” he says, playfulness in his tone. you curse yourself for immediately blushing at his words. he closes the car door before heading into the main doors of his apartment building. you follow along closely behind him. he stopped in front of the elevator, pressing the up button. now its your turn to sway on the balls of your feet. after what feels like forever, the elevator finally dings, and you both enter. you watch sunghoon as he presses the number three button. the doors close, and here you guys are again, in awkward silence.

you stand next to each other as the elevator moves between floors, and you let your gaze fall upon the boy next to you. you had always found sunghoon attractive, but that attraction has skyrocketed since his whole hero moment at the party. the elevator dinging pulls you out of your trance, head snapping forward. sunghoon let you step out first; your heart was racing. you walked beside him as he guided you to his apartment, his casual confidence making your pulse quicken even more. “so, this is your place?” you ask, glancing around as you approached the door. “yeah, just a simple apartment,’ he replied, smiling. he opens the door and gestures for you to enter. “make yourself at home,” he beams, following in behind you.

you looked around the place in front of you, taking in the modern decor and the faint woodsy scent that lingered in the air. “it’s nice. cozy,” you breathed. sunghoon chuckled, closing the door behind him. “cozy is the goal. would you like something to drink?” he asks. “water is fine,” you smiled to him, watching as he moved around the kitchen. as he filled two glasses, you couldn’t help but admire the way he moved with ease, letting your gaze fall to the way his back muscles tensed as he moved. he turned to face you, leaning against the counter, a playful smile on his lips. “so, where should we start?” he trails off nervously. “well, what do you wanna know?” you reply. his eyes shine as he looks at you, “anything. everything.” heat rushes to your cheeks as you look at him, his desire to know more about you sending butterflies straight to your tummy. 

“well… one time i tripped and fell into a fountain during a school trip,” sunghoons laughter echoed through the room. “oh no! did you get wet?” he questioned through his chuckles. “absolutely drenched, i had to walk around the rest of the day in a soggy shirt.” he leaned closer, his eyes sparkling. “i think that’s hilarious; i wish i could’ve seen it.” you both laugh for a moment before silence falls upon you again. you look at him, “aren’t you gonna tell me one of your embarrassing moments?” a nervous chuckle leaves his lips, a sheepish grin forming on his face. “once i thought i was being smooth at a party and accidentally spilled my drink all over someone. turns out, it was the birthday girl.” your laughter floods sunghoons ears, his heart swelling at the sight of the smile on your face. “that’s definitely pretty embarrassing!” you continue to giggle, teasing him slightly.

he begins to move closer as you laugh, the air between you two shifting. “yeah, i wasn’t very popular that night,” he says, his voice softening. “but i guess i can be a little clumsy.” “maybe it’s just because you’re too busy being charming,” you say to him, meeting his gaze. he took another step towards you, his expression suddenly serious. “i don’t want to mess this up, you know?” desperation in his voice. “mess what up?” the sudden topic change is confusing you. “this,” he says, glancing at the space between you two, then back to your eyes. “us.” the weight of his words hung in the air, and you could feel a thrill run through you. “i don’t think you could mess it up.” your chest heaves as you look up at him. anticipation is coursing through your bones. “really?” he asks, stepping even closer, your breaths mingling. “what if i wanted to kiss you right now?” your pulse quickened. you contemplate for a second on what to do, but quickly come up with an answer. “then you should.”

sunghoon hesitated for a moment, searching your eyes for reassurance. then, without breaking eye contact, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. the kiss was tentative at first, a soft exploration that quickly turned heated. you melted into him, your hands finding their way to his hair as his fell to your waist. his tongue swiped along your bottom lip, asking for entry, which you granted. your saliva mixing as you moaned into his mouth. the two of you shuffled around the room as you kissed. finding yourself in front of his couch, he goes to sit down, and you follow, only breaking away for a split second as you straddle his lap before connecting your lips again. his hands are resting on your hips, and you lightly grind down on his lap, earning a groan from him. you bite at his bottom lip, pulling slightly before letting go, breaking the kiss, but only so you could continue to pepper kisses down his jaw and neck.

he moved his neck, giving you more access as you bit and sucked slightly on the skin. small groans left his mouth, his hands beginning to guide your body on his clothed erection. a moan fell past your lips at the sensation, your assault to his neck stopping as you focused on the pleasure you’re feeling between your legs. you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning your forehead against his as he continues to grind you on his lap. small pants are coming from your mouth, as well as groans from his. he drops his head down, taking his turn to trail kisses along the exposed skin of your collarbones and chest. you roll your head back, a moan leaving your lips. one of sunghoons hands travels up to your face, bringing you back to lean against him, fingers caressing your cheek ever so slightly. you lean into his touch, whines leaving your lips as you chase your high. his hand falls back down to your hip, helping you in quickening your pace. the texture of his jeans hitting your clit in just the right spot to send you over the edge, your body trembles as your high washes over you, head thrown back as sunghoon helps you ride it out. his own orgasm followed shortly after.

both of you are a panting mess, and sunghoon can’t help but hold you tight against him, hugging you gently. you tighten your arms around him, enjoying the comfort of the boy in front of you. you pull away for a moment to look eachother in the eyes. a smile forms on both of your lips as you chuckle breathlessly. sunghoon is the first to speak. “that was. wow” you giggle at his words, fingertips fiddling with the hairs at the base of his neck. “i think we need to do that again sometime, maybe with less clothes,” you joke. sunghoon is smiling from ear to ear, thinking about how lucky he is to have you here right now. “maybe so. but how about a proper date first?” he says. and you nod eagerly.

“i’d like that.”

.

..

…

[alphajocklover]

InstaJock: Going Viral

**Hey! This is my entry for @occamstfs Viral Transformation Challenge. Congrats on getting 2,000 followers, and thank you for beta reading this and helping me edit it. I hope I can get to 2,000 followers myself one day! For those who are new to my stories, this does connect to the plot established in my blog, but the concept is simple enough you should be able to follow along even if you don't usually read my stuff! I hope you all enjoy!**

When I talk about the InstaJock App Phenomenon – which I seem to do a lot. What is this, the 17th InstaJock related post? I need to diversify more – I usually talk about the transformation aspects and not the app itself. That’s partially because the transformation is the most interesting and hottest part, but it’s also because I haven’t been able to take a good look at the app. Even with all the protective spells and equipment I have, I can’t use a phone with InstaJock on it for very long without getting an urge to set up an account. 

Until now.

With some help from the devilishly handsome (and literally devilish) Nick, I’ve been able to get my hands on some better equipment and better explore the app. I was able to spend a couple hours on it before I needed to quit, and actually got some very interesting information, mainly about how the app works post-transformation. I had always assumed that once a user got transformed into a jock, they’d ignore the app from then on unless they wanted to change someone. I was very, very wrong, not just about that but about the purpose of the app itself. It’s not just for making people into jocks: it’s for finding the best ones.

The app generally works like any other social media app, with its members posting about their interests. It’s set up is a lot like Instagram, where pictures and videos are the main format used for posting, but what really makes it different from other social media apps is the content. You can probably guess what an app full of buff cocky jocks looks like, but I’ll confirm it for you: the app is a thirst trap paradise.

The entire app is stuffed with half naked –  and sometimes fully naked – photos of buff jocks, ones of all different kinds. If you can think up a jock related stereotype, they have a full hashtag dedicated to it. Just buff jocks playing sports, flexing and making out with other hot people, for as far. I know that doesn’t sound too different from normal social media apps, as most have a healthy NSFW side, but the posts have more in common then just showing jocks. Each and every post, every one that I saw, mentioned a Master. Some were talking about how they were getting pumped up at the gym for Master, some were talking about how they loved being jocks and were so glad Master had found them, and some were literally begging for Master to notice them, often wantonly describing how they’d debase themselves and be the sluttiest jock ever, all for him. Everyone on the app would post at least once a day about this mysterious Master. It doesn’t seem to matter if the jock is a dom, a sub, a top, a bottom, in a relationship, single, gay or even straight, all of them wanted this mysterious unnamed master – so much so they seemed to completely change personalities whenever he is mentioned. It seems instaJock has an additional side effect I didn’t know about till now: complete and utter devotion to their Master.

It took me a while, and some covert interviewing of a number of jocks in their DMs, but I think I figured out what's happening. The Jocks aren’t just posting for fun, they’re competing with each other. InstaJock isn’t really a social media app, it’s a sort of ranking app. Every day the jocks log on, post a picture of themselves with a caption somehow related to their Master, and leave likes on some of the other posts, usually the ones they find hot. If a jock’s post gets enough likes though, they get what every jock wants, what all of them are trying to get. They get to Go Viral.

Going Viral on IntsaJock isn’t like going viral on a regular app. It essentially means you’ve gotten enough likes, been reposted enough times, and have become popular enough on the site… that Master has noticed you. That's what the social media part of the app is really for. It’s just a way for Master’s jocks to organize themselves so only the hottest ones show up on his feed. If he really likes you, he’ll do more than just look too. Soon that Jock will disappear from his regular life, never to be seen again, whisked away to become a part of Master’s personal harem. This entire time the app has been about one thing: creating lovestruck sex slaves for the man who created InstaJock.

Like most actual social media apps, InstaJock jumps from one thing to another, and what's viral is always changing. But there are two tags that are always trending on InstaJock. The first, and most popular, is #JockMaster, which is only ever used by this mysterious Master when he makes a post. I’ve seen his account. He never shows his face on it, but from what little of his body that makes it into the photos, he’s… enchanting. As much as I hate to admit it, seeing just a bit of that creep almost made me drool. He usually only posts a couple times a week, as opposed to the jock who posts daily, but everything he posts goes viral on the app in moments. I’ll admit, there's something about his posts that is just… hypnotic. I almost set up an account after seeing one myself, and probably would have if Nick wasn’t there to stop me.

The other tag that's always trending is… more interesting, at least to me. It’s #MastersBoyfriend. It’s another tag used only by Master, and one he uses whenever he posts a picture of one particular member of his harem. 

Whenever he posts pictures… of my Uncle John.

I finally know who took my Uncle. I know who this Master is. I suspected it was him for a while, but now I’m sure. The man who made InstaJock and the man who turned my Uncle into a slutty buff himbo are one in the same. I finally have proof.

So now what?

**The identity of the person behind InstaJock AND the person behind my Uncle's transformation and kidnapping has finally been revealed! Been working up to this for a long time, and I'm glad to keep this story moving forward! Hope you liked it as much as I do! Thank you to @occamstfs once again for being absolutely awesome and inspiring!**

[wheneverfeasible]

Because I’m terrible and the plots won’t leave me alone, I’ve now got an idea based on this post about a demon who feasts on pain and suffering being a medical practitioner for the chronically and terminally ill and the patients fully loving it. And then my brain rot had to say “make it Steddie” because I’ve lost all control of my life.

—

cw: terminal illness, minor and major character death (with a happy ending tho)

But imagine it. Eddie is a demon, a low ranking one at that originally. He gets a job at a medical facility for the chronically/terminally ill. Over time at the happy and consensual feasting he really does become one of the strongest demons because he’s constantly fed to the brim and he even has human worshippers, not that they’re traditional worshippers.

No, his followers are little old senior citizens who slip him butterscotch candies and other sweets they’re not supposed to have, which technically count as offerings. They thank him for his work, because he does actually take care of their bodies as well and even listens to their life stories, which count as praise and worship. They love and are devoted to him and they bring in their friends and family who are suffering too and Eddie’s accidental cult grows.

One day, things change. A young man, an anomaly in his youth, is brought in by parents who no longer wish to be burdened by their disabled son. Steve just shrugs it off and moves in with a smile, seemingly fine with being abandoned by his parents because he dared to be anything other than perfectly healthy.

He puts around the facility in his terry cloth robe and slippers on some days, others he dresses up in polos and slacks or even jeans when he’s feeling more casual, and always with a smile on his face. He makes those around him smile and laugh too, and his cheeks get pinched and he’s slipped candies too and he listens to others’ stories and he seems happy and content.

But Eddie feeds on his pain and suffering all the same, knows that behind that smile is a young boy who was told he probably wouldn’t live to see 30, who listens to the older folks knowing he would never get to live a life like that. Eddie knows that sometimes Steve cries himself to sleep at night.

Over time, Eddie and Steve grow closer. Steve hadn’t believed that Eddie was a demon at first, had thought it all just a joke, until one night Mr. Wozniak was laying in his bed, and Steve hadn’t meant to overhear, but he was passing by and the door was cracked open.

“Will I go to Hell now?” Mr. Wozniak was asking, but he seems peaceful all the same, like the thought wasn’t the terrifying ordeal so many people thought it was.

“No, sweetheart,” Eddie was saying, but his voice sounds a little off, huskier, like…like brimstone sat in his throat. “I’ve never claimed your soul. It’s still your own. Go find Irena. She’s been waiting for you for too long.”

Irena, Steve knew from speaking with Mr. Wozniak, was his young wife who had died decades earlier.

“Will I get to see you again?”

Eddie’s long fingers reach out, his nails long and sharp, dark in a way that was not nail polish. He lightly and gently strokes the papery skin of Mr. Wozniak’s cheek. “You will be at peace. You will find the afterlife is so much more than this Good-vs-Evil rhetoric so popular in this plane of existence. Go in peace, my child, and should you wish it, perhaps one day we might meet again.”

Mr. Wozniak smiles at that, and he closes his eyes with a softly whispered, “Irena, I’m coming…”

A moment later, he was gone.

Steve watches as Eddie seems to grow smaller, appear more normal, and though he knows he should be terrified, he isn’t. Instead he continues on his way, letting the knowledge of more percolate in his brain, though by the next morning when news of Mr. Wozniak’s passing spreads and Eddie assures everyone that he passed away peacefully and in no pain, Steve knows Eddie speaks the truth and he realizes that nothing has changed. Eddie is still Eddie.

They continue to grow closer. He spends more time with Eddie, lets Eddie in fully on how much he hurts, and tells the demon that he wished things had been different and that they could have met under better circumstances.

Eddie tells him that he never enjoyed the taste of regret. It was far too bitter.

They fall in love, encouraged by their friends in the facility new and old, who don’t seem to care that he is a mortal with a short life expectancy and Eddie is an immortal demon lord. What is all that in the face of true love?

And then it happens, and Steve is the one lying in bed, knowing his time has come. He smiles up at Eddie and decides not to regret any of it, not wanting their final moments to be flavored with bitterness.

“Stevie,” Eddie whispers mournfully, and he’s beautiful. It’s not his full true form, but his eyes are a dark blood red, his teeth elongated into sharp fangs, and his pale skin veined with reds and blacks. Horns curl out from his curly hair.

“You said once that I get to be with my loved ones after this,” Steve says, still smiling, and he reaches up to cup Eddie’s jaw with a weakened hand. Eddie nods against him, and Steve wonders if all demons can cry, or if it’s just his. “Then take my soul, darling. It already belongs to you.”

Eddie flinches back, like Steve knew he would, because souls are not little things. Eddie had explained before, after everything, that he didn’t even actually deal in souls, that that wasn’t the sort of demon he was. Steve had asked if he could, on a technicality, and Eddie had paused because saying yes, any demon could, but souls were priceless. When you gave one up to a demon, you gave up everything. You would be theirs until the end of days. Eddie had said he wasn’t that sort of demon.

“Baby, no,” Eddie breathes now, shaking his head gently enough not to dislodge Steve’s hand. “You would be—”

“Yours,” Steve interrupts. “But I already am. You already own my heart. I now willingly give you my soul. All you have to do is accept it.”

And Eddie protests, at first, because Steve is giving him complete control over him for eternity. Steve gives it freely with open arms, and in the end, Eddie can do nothing but accept it. He tells Steve that he doesn’t know if demons have souls or not, but his belongs to Steve just as assuredly as his own heart does.

Steve’s final mortal breath is gifted into Eddie’s crimson mouth, full of peace and love and the understanding that this thing between them will always beat eternal.

It turns out that, whether it was still unknown if all demons had souls, Eddie was the sort that does.

And it also turns out that, when you’re gifted a demon lord’s soul, you become a demon too.

Eddie’s cult ends soon after, disbanded into non-existence. In its place, however, rises a new one that worships not just one demon caretaker, but two as Eddie is soon joined by another with floppy brown hair and sparkling brown eyes that for once smiles without hidden pain. They take care of their charges, gently coax them into eternal rest when it’s their time, and together prove that true love is forever.

[fiber-optic-alligator]

Hello! I’ve always been curious about the “human in a space shuttle somehow ends up on a cybertronian ship and all the bots are trying to figure out what this random metal this is while the human is terrified” plot.

It would be interesting to see it played out with any character, but for the sake of direction, I’d like to request this with the Lost Light Crew?

It could be vore if that’s what you feel like wrong at the time, but I’d also go for some good ‘ol fearplay.

I apologize if this is too vague, have a good day/night and I love your writing!

Thank you for the request Glitch! I hope this is up to your expectations! I hope you don't mind that I picked specific members of the Lost Light crew to include in this story. Feedback is always appreciated! Have a great day/night as well! :D

Doctor’s (And Scientist’s) Orders

Pairing: IDW Ratchet, IDW Perceptor, and IDW First Aid x Human Reader

Word Count: 3115

Summary: You are a teacher who is being sent from Earth to a colony on Mars. A new life as an educator for the red planet’s children is on your horizon…until you are thrown terribly off course and end up in the bowels of the Lost Light. All seems lost for you when you find yourself injured and cut off from human society, at the mercy of the three Cybertronians who end up finding you and taking you in, whether you want them to or not.

The first thing you hear when you come to is the horrid screeching of your ship's alarms.

  You groan and sit up. Smoke and flickering emergency lights greet you when you open your eyes. Electricity sparks from the stasis tank you were asleep in. Gas spurts from the ceiling, and everything is strewn about with the chaotic air of a tornado that just tore through an entire town.

“Warning,” your ship’s AI urgently alerts. “Breach detected. Damage is collateral. Warning-warning-” It sputters and fizzles out.

  You rub the back of your head and feel something warm and sticky coat your palm. When you pull your hand back to take a closer look, you see blood.

  Shit. That’s not good.

  Standing up makes you feel like you are going to puke. Your head throbs and every breath you take sends piercing pain through your chest. Dragging yourself out of the stasis pod takes longer than it should while black spots dot your vision as you stumble to the dashboard and press your hands against it. “Run ship diagnostics,” you manage to rasp. The voice that struggles to exit your mouth is one you hardly recognize. It is thin and strewn with violent coughs. A metallic taste coats your tongue. More blood.

  The AI glitches as it attempts to answer you. “Severe damage to hull. Severe damage to engines. Severe damage to thrusters. Life support online, but rapidly depleting. Escape pod offline.”

  “Shit,” you breathe. “Try contacting Earth control.”

  “Communications systems offline. Attempting self-repairs. Current status…5%.”

  “How long until repairs are complete?”

  “Estimations indicate repairs will be completed in…5 days.”

  Not good. Not good at all. You push yourself away from the dashboard and take in all that has happened. This was not how the mission was supposed to go. When you were chosen to be sent to Earth’s Mars colony as a teacher for the young children growing up on the red planet, you thought it would be a smooth seven month trip with you peacefully slumbering away in stasis. You were supposed to be woken up by fellow human beings, not a devastating crash resulting in your ship being decimated. Something must have thrown you off course. A freak asteroid strike probably. Which begs the question…where exactly are you?

  Ignoring how much pain you are in, you hobble through the remains of the vessel and head for the airlock doors. They remain tightly shut when you make it to them, hiding the knowledge of where you are from view. “Open the doors,” you call out to the ship.

  “Warning. Remaining onboard is strongly recommended. Current exterior environment is unknown.”

  “Override. Open the doors.”

  The doors whoosh apart. You know there’s oxygen outside. If there hadn’t been, the ship would have prevented you from even entering the airlock chamber in the first place. Stepping off, you expect to see the barren landscape of Mars, or the alien environment of some other planet you might have ended up on. Part of you thinks you might still be on Earth; perhaps something went wrong with the ship before you could even break the Troposphere.

  What you see surprises you. You are in some sort of…massive cargo hold.

  Gigantic metal crates surround you, most of them exuding a pinkish glow. There are lights on the ceiling far above you, but they are dim, and serve little aid in giving you an estimate of just how large this place is. Turning in a circle, you feel awe fill you. “Yeah,” you murmur to yourself. “The ship definitely didn’t crash on Mars.”

  Speaking of your ship…you take in the damage. It's an absolute mess of warped, crippled metal doomed to remain collapsed on its side until self-repairs are complete. It would take days, maybe even weeks, for damage of this caliber to be fixed beyond the communications systems. With no way to contact Earth or Mars, you truly are stuck.

  You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose. Calm. You are calm. There is absolutely nothing to worry about. Yes, your ship is destroyed. Yes, you are suffering from critical wounds. Yes, you are in an unknown place with seemingly no way out. But you're alive. That’s what matters. And now you just have to survive for five more days.

  You hear thumping in the distance.

  It takes you a moment to register the pattern of heavy steps that are coming towards you. It’s something alive, you realize with dawning horror. Wherever you are, you have obviously made quite a racket, and now this planet’s local faunal residents are going to seek you out. There’s no way for you to know exactly what sorts of animals live here; any technology you might have used to your advantage is directly connected to the ship. With the ship offline, thus go the tools as well. You are completely in the dark, relying only on the little information about alien lifeforms you have to keep you safe.

  You don’t need that information to know you have to hide right now.

  You scurry back into the ship, biting back a shout of pain. God, there’s pain everywhere. How have you not passed out yet? Adrenaline does wonders for the human body, you sourly think to yourself when you have to lean against the wall to catch your breath. A hacking cough swells within your chest. When you cover your mouth with your elbow and release it, blood is splattered over your suit sleeve.

  That’s when you hear the growling.

  It’s unlike anything you have ever heard before. You’ve studied a multitude of animals. You’ve heard big cats roar, wolves howl, hyenas cackle, and birds screech. This is not a growl you can associate with any of those. It…holds similar qualities. But there’s something about it that remains blatantly off.

  It sounds strangely like the growl of a machine.

  You look outside of the airlock doors, and something huge lumbers out from behind a stack of crates. The first things your brain registers are its red and white armor platings, its bright blue eyes, and the horn-like finials extending from its forehead. It’s humanoid, yet possesses qualities that remove it from any such grouping. This thing is definitely not like you in any sort of way beyond having a face and walking on two legs.

  “It’s…a robot,” you whisper. It’s a giant fucking robot moving all on its own, and looking none too happy to be here.

  The mechanical creature snarls, lips upturning to reveal sharp canines that are probably longer than your arms. It hasn’t noticed you yet. Its focus is trained on the datapad it holds in its hands. Your mind is blown. This is obviously a member of a clearly intelligent race. Have you just discovered a new extraterrestrial species?

  The robot looks up. At first, its eyes scan the crates around you, and it doesn't seem to notice the little ship nestled between them. You remain still, prey instinct taking its course and demanding you freeze where you are. Hopefully it will just move on…

  It backtracks, and to your utter horror, it makes direct eye contact with you.

  Fucking shit, you think.

  The robot stares at you with an expression of pure shock. You stare right back with an equal amount of terror.

  It steps towards you. That’s all it takes for you to scream at the ship. “Close the airlock doors! Close them now!”

  The doors slam shut. You hear a shout from the robot, and everything shakes as it thunders forward. You stumble and fall with agony ripping through your poor body when you make contact with the floor. The cry that leaves you is riddled with pain.

  “A-Activate self-defense protocol!” you order the ship.

  “Self-defense protocols offline,” it says back.

  “Well, how long until they are online?!”

  “Estimated time equals…ten hours.”

  “That’s not enough!” you scream rawly.

  A gentle tapping echos from the other side of the doors.

  You push yourself back, heart pounding as you listen to the robot move all around you. It’s growling softly to itself, and you can hear it touching the ship, running massive mechanical fingers across the walls that act as the only barrier between you and potential doom.

  You don’t know what to do. Panic makes you frantic and you desperately try to think of how you can get yourself away from the monster outside. You have no way to defend yourself. You can’t even run. This thing wants you out, and you know it has the power to rip your ship apart in order to get to you if it wishes for it.

  Suddenly, everything rocks. Your stomach drops when the entire ship shakes and you feel it being lifted into the air. Realization of what is happening hits you: it’s picking it up. If it can’t get you, it’ll just have to take everything.

  “Nononono!” you cry out. The ship tips a little, and you slam into a wall with a grunt. “Stop!” You bang your fists against the metal. “Put it down! Put it down now!”

  The robot simply growls in reply. You don’t even know if it hears you. There’s nothing you can do to stop this. You slump back and cover your face as hot, helpless tears finally begin running down your cheeks.

  “What exactly is it?” First Aid asks as he peers down at the mangled hunk of metal sitting before them on the medibay berth.

  “It’s a ship,” Perceptor flatly replies with a silent “What else would it be?” evident in his tone.

  “This is a ship?” First Aid looks horrified. “But it's completely destroyed! How could it have gotten here?”

  “It must have crashed during our last refueling.” Perceptor lays his servos over the top of the ship, examining it closely. He huffs and straightens, looking at Ratchet. “Where did you find it?”

  “The cargo hold,” the medic replies. “I was down there searching for some extra medical supplies I know we have stored. I wouldn’t have seen it if it hadn’t been for what’s inside.”

  “There’s something alive in there?” First Aid gasps.

  “A human,” Ratchet replies. “It locked itself inside when it saw me.”

  “Impossible.” Perceptor shakes his helm. “Humans are an endangered species that only occupy a small sector of a primitive solar system. They don’t have the technology to make it this far out in space.”

  “Well, clearly they do. I know what I saw. These old optics aren’t that far gone.” Ratchet raps his knuckles gently against the ship. All three mechs have to lean in close so they can hear the soft squeak from inside.

  “How do we get it out?” First Aid asks. “It could be hurt!”

  “It is hurt,” Ratchet answers. “I saw it before it hid itself away. I don’t know how severe the injuries are, but I know it's in pain.”

  “Then what are we waiting for? We need to help it!” First Aid presses his forehelm against the ship and whispers softly. “Hello, little human? Please don’t be afraid! We aren’t going to hurt you!”

  A whimper is all he gains in reply.

  Perceptor crosses his arms. “I can force it out, but you won’t like how I do it.”

  “You can’t hurt it,” Ratchet sharply snaps. “That would be cruel.”

  “I’m not going to hurt it,” the scientist bites back. “I’m simply going to pump a nontoxic gas into the ship that will cause it to eventually lose consciousness. It will have no choice but to come out, and then we can go on from there.”

  “Are…are you sure?” First Aid wrings his servos nervously. “I don’t want it to be scared of us.”

  “Whether it’s scared of us or not doesn’t matter,” Ratchet says. “It’s injured, and if we don’t do something, it’ll succumb to those injuries. It’ll understand we don’t want to hurt it after we patch it up.” He nods to Perceptor. “Go ahead, smoke it out.”

  The scientist’s right servo transforms into a syringe. Ratchet watches with anxiousness churning in his tank as Perceptor presses his left index digit against the side of the ship and presses a small hole straight through with little resistance to stop him. A terrified shout from the human within causes First Aid to whimper.

  Perceptor sticks the upper part of the syringe into the hole, pumping gas into the ship and pulling it back out after a moment, wisps of vapor trailing from the tip. A few seconds later Ratchet hears a string of weak coughs from inside. There is a tense moment where all three of them stand there, and then the doors open and you stumble out with a cloud of gas nearly enveloping your tiny form. You wheeze into your servos, then notice the mechs staring at you and try sprinting right back into the ship. Perceptor cuts you off, slamming his servo down and pinning you under his digits before dragging you back even though you yelp and thrash. You squirm one last time in his grip before suddenly going limp.

  Perceptor gently shifts you to lie in the center of his palm. For a terrifying moment, Ratchet thinks you are offline when he sees how still you are with your optics closed. But then his sensors pick up on the rapid beating of your organic spark, and he relaxes. Not dead. Just simply unconscious.

  “Give it here.” He holds out a waiting servo. Perceptor hands you over; you are given a quick look-over as Ratchet scans your body. There is a nasty cut on the back of your helm, and your vents are gravely bruised with terrible red marks. “Internal bleeding,” he mutters. “As well as external wounds. The crash really messed it up.” He curls his digits lightly over you and brushes his thumb over your forehead. “Doesn’t have a fever though, which is good. Damage is minimal, nothing life threatening. I can have it fixed in a few hours.”

  “You know how to heal organics?” First Aid questions.

  “I’ve been around for a long time. War changes you. I’ve had my equal share of saving Decepticon-ravaged planets inhabited by organics as well as machines.” Ratchet walks over to another berth, being careful not to jostle you too much. “First Aid, go grab the restrainers. We’ll have to keep it still so it doesn’t accidentally hurt itself when it wakes up.”

  “You’ll have to keep it sedated too,” Perceptor says. “I can help with that. Just a little puff of the gas will keep it asleep.”

  “Thank you,” Ratchet says, then pauses. “Listen. Don’t tell anyone about this yet. I don’t want everyone flocking into the medibay and stressing it out. We could accidentally scare this thing to death if we aren’t careful.”

  “I won’t.” Perceptor nods. “Just…make sure it heals properly. I don’t doubt your expertise, but…” He looks down at you, and his optics soften. “It hurts my spark to see something so small in so much pain.”

  First Aid returns with the restrainer. It’s a small mechanism that runs on magnetic power, created by the Lost Light’s resident mad scientist, Brainstorm himself. Ratchet places it directly over your lax form. With a quiet beep, it presses lightly over your midsection, and magnetic bindings weigh down your ankles and wrists. Seeing you trapped like this makes him feel guilty. This obviously isn’t going to be something you will like when you wake up. But there’s no other way for this to go. You won’t understand his good intentions until he heals you. Until then, he has to keep you still.

  He grabs a small serum of glowing blue liquid and bends over you, gently pinching your little fleshy cheeks and working your intake open. “C’mon little one, drink up,” he whispers when he carefully forces the liquid down your throat. He sees your faceplate tighten with discomfort, but your throat pulses as you subconsciously swallow. “There you go. Good human, good human.”

  “What are you giving it?” First Aid asks.

  “Something I learned to make back in my early days,” he replies. “It heals from the inside. Works on both organics and machines.” He pats your cheeks praisingly and draws away. “There. That should help with the bleeding. It’ll be fine now. I’ll continue to monitor it over the next few days.”

  First Aid exhales a relieved sigh. Perceptor reaches out a tentative hand and brushes your hair away from your closed optics. “It’s so small…so soft…”

  “We have to be careful with it,” First Aid frets. “We don’t want it to break.”

  “Listen.” Ratchet’s tone hardens authoritatively. “I said this before, but I’ll say it again. We have to keep this between the three of us. Don’t tell anyone about a human being in here.”

  “But what about the captain?” First Aid asks. “Shouldn’t he know?”

  “The captain can’t know. If he finds out there's a human on the ship, he’ll go nuts with excitement and probably end up accidentally crushing the poor thing. Until I confirm it’s not going to drop dead at any moment, we keep it a secret. Got it?”

  Both bots nod. Ratchet nods with them. “Alright. I’m going to stay here and make sure it’s condition remains stable. You can come back tomorrow to check in on it and see how it’s doing.”

  Perceptor dips his head and leaves without another word. First Aid lingers, optics never leaving you.

  “It’ll be fine,” Ratchet reassures him. “I’ll take care of it. Go recharge.”

  It takes a lot for the other medic to step back and exit the medibay. Ratchet watches him go, then sighs and drags a servo over his faceplate. Becoming the caretaker of an injured organic lifeform was not something he had planned for today. Primus, how the hell am I going to tell Rodimus?

  A soft noise drags his attention away from the alarming thought of what might happen if the extroverted captain learns about his new “crewmate.” He looks down at you and startles a bit. Your eyes, foggy and unfocused, are staring right at him. There’s a fatigued expression of utter terror on your face that once again has his spark feeling like it's been ripped from his chassis and stomped on.

  “You’ll be okay,” he whispers to you. “I promise.”

  You close your eyes and let your helm loll to the side. Ratchet watches the soft rise and fall of your chassis for a few moments longer, then dims the medibay lights and returns to his previous work on the other side of the room.

  Never do you stray far from his mind.

[f1goat]

more than friends + lando norris x part one

In which your best friend wants to help you so you get more sexual experience, but he discovers quickly that he never wants to share you and your new sexual experience with others.

masterlist - playlist

warnings: smut with a plot or a plot with smut? :) sexual content starting next chapter. minors dni! i never proofread so probably grammar or spelling errors

requested: yes, based on: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things (ofc pretending for it to bot mean anything), while he’s actually in love with her

Lando is holding you tightly when he helps you to get into your car. The two of you did talk about him picking you up tonight, but it’s not even near to the time you agreed on. It were your friends who texted him to come pick you up, since you’re drunk. When he arrived he was quick to find out how drunk you are. Lando lets you lose when you’re seated in his car, he puts the seatbelt around you and walks towards his own side. He’s quick to take his seat next to you and to start the car.

“Oh my god,” you slur, “did you already turn on the seat warming for me?”

Lando laughs about your enthusiasm. “Yeah I did,” he tells you.

“You’re the best friend ever,” you continue to slur drunkly. You make yourself comfortable on the car seat. Lando drives away. He can’t help himself and looks at you whenever he has the chance. He wonders why you’re this drunk. 

“Why did you drink so much?” He asks you after a bit of wondering. He can’t think about any reason himself. Normally you don’t like to drink too much. 

“They kept talking about their boyfriends,” you confess without even thinking about it. The alcohol has made your mind hazy. You don’t think things through right now. “And I felt single,” you continue to tell Lando, “and then I realized I’ll probably stay single forever.”

“Don’t say that,” Lando quickly states, “You’re a catch for every boy.”

“And if I ever find a boy who likes me,” you slur further, “he’ll probably lose all interest when he figures out that I have no sexual experience and don’t know what to do.”

Lando hits the brakes as hard as he can. Your confession made him almost ran through a red traffic light. He looks at you with a confused gaze. Of course he has been your friend forever but the two of you never talk about things like this. He knows you aren’t dating a lot and you’re certainly not sleeping around. But he did think you had lost your virginity once. Now that he thinks about it, he has no idea with who he thought that should be. 

And the most fucked up part is that it kinda turns him on to know that you’re a virgin. It makes him think about everything he could teach you and do with you if you were his. The thought of having you while no one else ever did makes him lose all his sane thoughts.

“See even you think it’s weird,” you exclaim annoyed, “just say so Lan. You’re my best friend, you can tell me that it’s weird. The girls also told me.”

“It’s not weird,” Lando is quick to say, “and if anything, I would say a lot of guys would like it.”

You let out a weird fake laugh. “Nice try Lando,” you say annoyed, “I should just find some random guy to take my virginity and teach me some things.”

“No!” Lando says quickly, “Don’t do that. Not with some random guy.”

“With who then Lan? Maybe I should text all my guy friends and ask them, that seems like a great idea,” you continue with the same annoyed tone.

“Just text me,” Lando says so soft he almost whispers it to you. 

You barely hear him. At first you thought your drunk mind made it up that he said that. But when you notice the way he looks at you, you start to believe that he actually said it.

“You would want that?” You ask him.

“Yes,” he confesses, “I can teach you a few things. If you want to.”

“Deal,” you quickly say.

“You can tell me if it’s a deal tomorrow, when you’re not drunk anymore babygirl.”

Babygirl. That’s new.

+++

The following day you wake up with a massive headache. Lando is still sleeping next to you. You wonder why you ended up in his bed instead of in the bed in the guest room where you normally sleep. Weird. You have almost no memories left from last night. When you turn around you notice that Lando is following your moves in his sleep. He presses himself against your body. Weird. You unlock your phone and read some of the messages from last night. Your friends send a couple messages last night in the group text.

Friend 1: did you get home?

Friend 2: ??? Answer y/n

Friend 1: nvm we texted Lando and he told us you got home safe with him

You let out a sigh and start to type a message.

Y/N: oops sorry girls, I’m with Lando & having a massive headache  rn :(

You open your socials and scroll for a bit while waiting until Lando wakes up. It doesn’t take long before he wakes up. You feel him moving next to you in the bed. Carefully you turn around to look if he’s really awake. You’re quickly greeted by his open eyes.

“Morning babygirl,” Lando says with a raspy morning voice. 

“Hi Lan,” you reply softly.

Since when does he call you babygirl? Your mind switches back to yesterday night and you remember him calling you that as well last night. Weird. You remember him something saying that you would have to agree as well when you’re not drunk anymore. About what was that? You try to remember, but your mind leaves you hanging. 

“How are you feeling?” Lando asks you.

“Terrible,” you sigh, “I barely remember anything and I have a massive headache.”

Lando lets out a frustrated sigh, he hoped that you’d remember the conversation from you two from last night. He wonders if he needs to start about the subject or let it be. 

“You drank a lot,” he says eventually, “Why did you even do that?” Of course he already knows the reason, but he wants to hear it again from you. He needs to know for sure that last night wasn’t a drunk lie from you. 

You think about the reasons why you drank that much. Slowly you feel your memories coming back to you. You remember feeling frustrated when you realized how single - and inexperienced - you’re in comparison with your friends. They talked about their boyfriends and their sex lives a lot, both subjects you couldn’t say anything. You remember drinking too much because you wanted to forget about your awful love life. Then you start to remember the car ride back with Lando.

“Fuck,” you mutter, “I already told you, didn’t I?”

Lando nods to confirm your thoughts. He waits for you to continue. You should remember the rest by now as well, right?

“Oh my god,” you suddenly exclaim, “did I really ask you to teach me those things? Fuck I’m sorry Lan, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Lando realizes that you don’t remember everything correctly. It went different. You were talking about different boys who could teach you those things, random guys even. He was the one who offered to do it himself. 

“It didn’t go like that babygirl,” he says slowly, “I offered.”

You start to remember the conversation in more details now. Lando is right. He did offer. You feel a blush creeping up on your cheeks. What do you need to tell him now? You think about everything that can go wrong when you’re getting involved with him like that. But you also can’t shake off the thoughts about doing those things with Lando. You have had a crush on him for a while, you can probably say that you’re in love with him. In love with your best friend like a real idiot. It wouldn’t be bad to explore everything with him, he’s the guy you trust most. But what if you can’t keep it casual like that? You already know you want more.

“I remember now,” you confess.

“And I’m still offering,” Lando continues, “I don’t even want to think about you doing those kind of things with a random guy.”

“But you do want to do those, uh those things with me?” You ask awkwardly.

“Yes,” Lando is quick to confirm, “It’s not like I’m the most experienced guy around, but I can teach you some things.”

“But what if that ruins our friendship?” You ask him afraid.

“It won’t,” Lando quickly states, “We have to set some boundaries. Like having a safe word for if you’re not comfortable with what I’m doing and about how we will keep it from ruining our friendship.”

The following conversation is a bit awkward, but it’s a good one. Lando tells you about his boundaries, he doesn’t want you to have sex with someone else in the mean time - but he does want to teach you everything he knows. Teach. It even sounds ridiculous when you think about it. But you can’t deny that you want it. Fuck, there’s nothing you want more on this moment.

“So what safe word will you chose?” Lando asks you. 

“How do you see this going?” You ask back, “Do I need to make you a list or something with everything I want? Do we need to plan this like teaching sessions?”

Lando softly laughs. He pulls your body closer towards himself. In only milliseconds he’s pressed up against you. You squirm under his touch. Lando lets out a groan. It’s insane what you’re already doing to him. Your innocence is turning him on so much. 

“If you want you can make a list,” he tells you with a smile, “and if you want we can plan your so called teaching sessions. Although, I suggest to let things happen a bit more naturally.”

“Naturally?” You ask him confused.

“Yes babygirl,” Lando replies, “Can you turn around and face me?”

You do what he asks you. You turn yourself around. Lando his face is only a couple inches away from you now. It takes you everything to stop yourself from going closer. He stares at you and you can’t stop staring back. Of course you already knew he’s beautiful, but now you’re seeing it from even closer.

“Can I touch you?” Lando asks you while he maintains eye contact with you. You can’t find the words to answer his question, even when you only want to say yes. So you show him a simple nod. 

“I need words baby,” he says, “I’ll only do things to you if I’m sure that it’s what you want.”

“Touch me,” you say with a soft voice. When Lando takes a couple more seconds you even add another word. “Please.” 

Fuck if he wasn’t turned on already this would be the moment for it. Lando can’t stop imagining you begging for him - for his touch, his cock and more. He shakes the thoughts off, maybe that’s something for later. If he’s lucky. 

He softly puts his hand on your cheek and brings your face even closer to his. Without giving it a second thought he presses his lips against yours. Softly he presses multiple kisses against your lips. You are quick to open your mouth a bit, hoping that he wants more. Just like you do at this moment. Lando grants your wish. He lets his tongue enter your mouth and starts to explore your mouth with his own. You feel your stomach tighten a bit. 

Why does it feel so good to kiss with your best friend?

Lando moves his hand to your body. He pulls you even closer towards himself. Then he starts to draw figures on your lower back with his fingers. You let your hands wander around his body as well. At first you’re focused on his hair, softly tugging on some of his curls. You love his curls. Lando moves his face back a bit, you directly miss the feeling of his lips on yours. 

“How does that feel?” He asks you. His hand is still placed on your lower back. You want it even lower. How would if feel if he would grab your ass? 

“Good,” you confess, “really good.”

Lando is hand is still on the same place. You almost feel yourself aching for more of his touch. Do you need to tell him? He is watching you in silence. It surprises you that you feel quite comfortable with him watching you like this. 

“You should take a shower,” Lando says eventually, “We’re going out for lunch with Max.”

You send him a surprised look. That was it? 

Lando laughs softly, “Patience babygirl, it’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

You almost tell Lando that you feel turned on, almost. This will be a long day. With a soft huff you get out of the bed and walk towards the bathroom. The cold air distracts you from your feelings, for a few seconds you forget about how turned on you are right now.

“Maybe you can add that to you list,” Lando jokes, “Shower sex. I have never done that either.”

Great. Now you can’t even shower anymore without thinking about Lando taking you underneath the water. This will ruin a lot of things, but strangely you aren’t that afraid for it to ruin things between Lando and you. 

“I thought I didn’t need to make a list,” you tell him.

“Maybe you should,” Lando replies, “I think I’d like a list after all. What if I forget something eh?”

You show him a small smile before disappearing in the bathroom. Lando sighs when you close the door. It took him a lot of good will to stop things instead of going further with you. It has been a while since he has been this hard. He can’t even remember the last time he was this turned on now that he thinks of it. It probably was last summer when you wore that tight bikini.

part two

[yongvillage]

bruises | k.mg

street fighter bf!mingyu x afab!reader

established relationship, porn with some plot, minghao cameo cuz i love him, mentions of injury and blood, fighting, make up sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, one joke of mingyu being a masochist, one mention of death, creampie, oral (m receiving), skull fucking, daddy kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, recording, cum swallowing, cum eating, praise, muscle and size kink if you squint but that’s guaranteed in a mingyu fic 😭😭

summary: you and mingyu get into a fight over his bad habits, angst and smut ensues

wc: 2.7k

you’ve always hated the fights mingyu got himself into. he’d come home almost every week, with cuts and bruises littered all over his body. this time wasn’t any different, it was past midnight by this point, and you were curled up on the couch watching a random movie in an attempt to distract yourself from your growing worries. mingyu is usually home by this point.

a few more minutes go by and mingyu stumbles through the door with more injuries than usual. he sets his key down as you frantically walk towards him, noticing the way be avoids your eyes, “gyu.. your face, your bleeding everywhere.” he gives you a cold stare, his face battered and bloodied, and he brushes past you, going towards the bathroom where your med-kit usually was.

“yeah that’s the whole point y/n, it’s called street fighting for a reason.” you knew he wasn’t actually mad at you, just pent up anger from years of fighting, and especially tonight. scanning his whole body, the bright bathroom lighting allowing for you to see all his cuts and wounds more closely.

he slipped off his shirt, a huge bruise starting to form on the left side of his torso. “..you sure you didn’t break something?” your hand coming up to lightly stroke his ribs, mingyu’s anger blinding him from leaning into your warm touch.

“no, and why do you care so much anyway? it’s not like this is the first time.”

you tipped your head to the side, a ‘what’s that smell’ expression laid on your face, “what kind of question is that? i care because you’re my boyfriend, of course i’m gonna be worried.” your voice was nothing short of angry, your eyebrows almost meeting in the middle due to your frustration.

“you shouldn’t be.”

“uhh? yes i should, i’m tired of seeing you walk in here everyday with new cuts to clean. and your ribs.. mingyu you need to go see a doctor.”

“look y/n, i’ve been doing this for years—“

“well i think you should stop.”

it was deathly quiet, and mingyu’s hand holding a cotton pad paused in the air as he stared at you through the mirror. only the whirring sound of your ac being heard to combat the july heat. mingyu looked at you for a bit, chuckling to himself as his tongue poked through the side of his cheek, grabbing the gauze out of the med-kit and wrapping it around his knuckles.

“what’s so fucking funny?”

“oh nothing just that fact that you think you can tell me what to do.”

“yeah i’ll you what to do if it means not having you die in some alleyway.”

“please y/n, it never goes that far.”

“look at yourself! you basically limped in here, and i tried to help you but now you act like i’m a bitch for being worried about you?” you yelled.

mingyu finished up the gauze as he dropped everything and grabbed his shirt, walking towards the door. he left with a slam, not even caring to bid you goodbye, or kiss you and say ‘i love you’ like he always does.

the post-anger tears started streaming down your face. you knew he was probably gonna go crash at minghao’s, yet even with how frustrated you were, you still couldn’t help but worry and think about mingyu going to sleep untreated.

-

9:02 PM

(5) missed calls

gyu?

mingyu im sorry

are you okay? did minghao get you painkillers?

please dont fight again, at least take some time to let ur body rest :((

a full day had gone by. guilt stirred in mingyu’s stomach as he stared at his phone screen. he was the one who should be apologizing, not you.

he sighed, shutting off his phone and getting up. he knew he had to face you at some point.

“you leaving?”

mingyu hummed, shuffling into his shoes and heading out the door as minghao yelled out a goodbye. mingyu hopped in his car, letting the silence engulf him.

when mingyu walked into the apartment he noticed how dim it was, assuming you were asleep. he took his shoes off as quietly as possible, making his way to your guys’ shared bedroom. he heard a muffled voice, noting that the door was only half closed, peeking into the crack.

he saw you, adorned in one of his hoodies that was much too big for you, sleeves bunched up at your wrists and the hem coming down to your mid-thigh, naked legs on full display.

you paced around the room and it looked like you were on the phone with someone, the voice being hard to identify.

“did he say anything to you when he left?”

“nah, he just walked out.”

oh. it was minghao.

“shit, um, he didn’t even mention where he was going?”

mingyu heard the panic in your voice and the way your forefinger and thumb came to rub at your temples. he walked in as your eyes shot up to look at him, not hesitating to hang up on minghao, throwing your phone on the bed and running to jump into mingyu’s arms.

“oh my god mingyu!” you looked up at him and immediately started hitting him, “stupid! stupid! stupid! i hate you!” each hit enunciating your words, feeling like nothing but weak taps to mingyu. tears spilled out of your eyes, as mingyu only hugged you closer, hand coming up to pet your hair as the other cradled your head into his chest. he heard your muffled sniffing, his heart breaking at the stress he caused you.

“shhh i know, i know i’m stupid. i’m sorry baby.”

“you’re so mean! why didn’t you at least text me back? do you know how scared i was?” your voice broke, looking up at him with swollen eyes.

“i ..” mingyu paused, his hands coming down to hold your face, “i know i fucked up, i was too embarrassed to face you, afraid that you’d end things with me, which i would’ve probably deserved. i’m so, so sorry angel, i know no amount of apologizing will take away your worries, and i know i should’ve stayed and talked things out with you”

his thumb came to wipe away your falling tear, your hands hooking around his neck and pulling him down to kiss you. he instantly reciprocated, hands traveling down to wrap around your waist, pulling you close so that your bodies were flush against each other.

“i forgive you, i’m sorry for raising my voice at you.” you mumbled into his mouth, mingyu backing away to confusedly look at you.

“why are you apologizing? don’t say sorry baby, you should’ve slapped me as soon as i walked through that door.”

you giggled, looking down as you felt something press into your stomach, “you’re hard? really? got hard at the thought of me slapping you?” you teased.

“loooook..” mingyu looked away bashfully, his hand scratching the back of his neck.

“ew, you’re such a weirdo.” you said, slipping off mingyu’s hoodie to reveal a white tank top, your hard nipples poking through the thin fabric. you dropped down to your knees, fingers going straight to work untying your boyfriend’s sweatpants and pulling them down, along with his boxers, to his knees.

“oh, shit, hold on— you don’t have to do that baby.” mingyu hooked his hands underneath your armpits, attempting to pull you up being cut off by you stroking him.

“please, i want to.”

mingyu hesitated but was soon slapping his tip against your cheek, cooing at the way your head followed to try and get it in your mouth. finally he put it where you wanted, circling your tongue around the sensitive head. mingyu’s head lulled back, letting out a groan.

you took all of him into your mouth at once, his tip consistently hitting your uvula as you bobbed your head, twisting your hand on the base of his cock.

“fuck juuust like that baby, shit, h-have you been practicing on other guys or something?”

you laughed, only causing you to choke on his length, hitting his thigh as punishment for making you laugh while doing something that literally constricts your airflow.

“okay, okay, no more jokes, got it.” mingyu snickered, his gauzed hand grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

you came off of him with a pop, wiping off the drool dripping down your chin with the back of your hand, “gyu, u-use my mouth.”

mingyu smiled smugly, wordlessly grabbing ahold of your head with his other hand before shallowly thrusting into your wet mouth.

it wasn’t long before his length was ramming into your throat, breathless fuck’s and just like that’s leaving his cut lips. he was scared to even look down, afraid that if he saw your fucked out face he’d cum too quick.

you’re eyes looked up at him, tendrils of hair slipping past mingyu’s hold due to the sheer speed at which his hips slammed into your mouth.

“christ y/n, you look s’pretty like this, gon’ let daddy take a picture?”

you moaned at the label he placed on himself, nodding around his cock, eyes never leaving his sweat and scab covered face. mingyu pulled out his phone, angling the camera at your face. a red box with white numbers ascending appearing at the top of his screen.

“it’s a video baby, you don’t mind do you?” mingyu laughed when you attempted to hum a nuh-uh, only a string of muffled gags being heard. you were so wet, clit aching to be touched. you inched your hand down to touch yourself, drawing quick, fast circles.

“of course you don’t, so perfect, take my dick so well”

mingyu realized what it was you were doing to your lower half, “y’touching yourself? don’t worry daddy will fill y’up nice and good after this, j-jus’ let me cum in your mouth pretty.”

with a few final thrusts, and the erratic spasming of mingyu’s hips, you felt his hot cum travel down your throat, hollowing your cheeks as you slurped every last drop.

your knees ached as mingyu pulled you up, ending the video and hastily putting it in his hidden folder. he pulled you into a kiss, “did so good f’me baby, you always know how to spoil me.” he spoke into your mouth, tasting his own release.

“w-wanna ride you,” you huffed out, breathless. mingyu grinned, the right side of his face being the only indication of it, while the left was so mangled you couldn’t tell what expression he was even making. whoever he fought got him good.

“you sure? don’t tire yourself doll.”

“i’m sure!” you said grabbing mingyu’s hand, dragging him to the bed.

“whatever you say cutie,” mingyu let out a strangled breath while lowering himself down onto the bed, his torso still extremely sore, and his head perched up against the headboard. you quickly pulled down your shorts and panties as you swung your leg over his thighs, leaning down to kiss him.

you hand raked over his chest and chiseled abs, fingers dipping into each and every crevice as mingyu’s tongue explored your mouth. you pulled back and grabbed a hold of his flushed cock, rubbing it along your folds as your slick dripped down his length, a whimper leaving your lips.

“shit.” he hissed, staring intently as you paused your ministrations to line yourself up, slowly sinking down. you stared down at where you were taking him in, brushing the hair out of your face to get a better look. mingyu’s mouth fell agape, “you’re so fucking tight,” watching as a bulge slowly formed just below your belly button. even after the countless times you and mingyu had had sex, he was always just so big, your tiny pussy barely taking him in each time.

you finally looked up, mingyu’s eyes meeting your own. “jus’ gimme a sec gyu, you’re s-so big,” you said breathlessly.

mingyu smirked cockily, “take your time gorgeous.” his hands soothingly rubbing you’re plush thighs.

you bounced slowly, feeling each vein of his cock drag against your walls, tiny gasps leaving your lips. mingyu let you control the pace for a bit, allowing for you to adjust to his size. but he was getting impatient, his hands coming down to grip the sides of your hips, his four digits digging themselves into your ass before lifting you up and slamming you back down, the movement knocking the wind of you, making your jaw go slack.

“fuck!” your head hung low, hands coming up to grip his broad, muscly shoulders for support, watching out for any bruises.

“that’s it baby, just hold onto daddy and let him make y’feel good.”

mingyu’s pace was animalistic, his hold on you hard enough to leave an imprint. you were shocked as to how he had this much energy considering what his body had endured a night ago.

tears welled up in your eyes, feeling his tip kiss your cervix with each thrust. the curve of his cock aligning just right with your g-spot. “oh my fff-fucking god! mingyu please, ha-harder!”

you didn’t even know if it was possible to go harder, but mingyu managed to slam you down with even more force then before. a bead of sweat ran down his tan neck, his bangs sticking to his forehead as he stared up at you with hooded eye. his hips thrust upwards to meet you halfway, causing you to let out mangled gasps and moans. you were sure he was puncturing your lungs by this point. no inch of your pussy was left unexplored, squishy pink walls molded perfectly to hug his cock.

“jus’ like that gorgeous, your pussy was made f’me.”

“s-soo deep daddy, feel you in my tummy..” you whined out as you saw mingyu grin, canines on display, his hand coming up to grab yours, placing your hand on the bulge on your stomach, almost cumming right there when you felt the bump.

“fuck, you jus’ got so tight, y-you like when daddy pokes your tummy like that?”

you nodded frantically, tears flowing down your hot, pink cheeks, “i-i’m gon—na cum, g-gonna cum!” you struggled to get the words out, mingyu understanding you nonetheless.

“cum with me baby, gon’ let daddy cum in you?”

“fuck, yes d-daddy, want you to fill me up so bad, p-put a .. a baby in me,” mingyu loved how dirty your mouth got every time you were close to coming. his right hand pressed onto the small of your back, causing you to arch into him. his mouth was at perfect level with your nipples, taking your tit into his mouth and circling the hard nub with his tongue.

the pleasure was all too much, and with a few more hard thrusts your hole was spasming around his thick base, clenching and unclenching, mingyu’s mouth detaching from your breast as he looked up at you, his eyes shutting tightly as hot cum shot into your pussy.

“shiiiit, you’re milking me baby.” mingyu said, still grinding your hips onto him as he rode out both of your orgasms.

you reluctantly lifted yourself off of him, feeling some of mingyu’s cum drip down your thigh, scooping it with your index and middle finger and licking it off as you cuddled into his side, his arm laid across your shoulder.

mingyu watched as you cleaned him off your fingers, smoothing your disheveled hair. “such a good girl, not letting any of daddy’s cum go to waste.” he said as he booped your nose.

you giggled, “you okay though, gyu? d-does it hurt anywhere?” you asked, still breathless from your fresh orgasm.

“don’t worry about me doll, are you feeling okay? did i go too hard?”

“mm-hm, just a lil’ sore,” you snuggled closer.

“a shower should help ease y’up,” mingyu swung his feet over the bed, getting up as he reached his hand out, “think you can walk?”

“nooo i need my big, strong boyfriend to help carry me,” you joked, climbing into mingyu’s arms as he threw you over his shoulder, landing a playful slap on your ass.

“asshole! i’m not helping you replace your bandages.” mingyu could hear the pout in your voice, laughing as he made his way to the bathroom.

@yongvillage | thank you for reading!

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

Taming the Supe

✨ Soldier Boy x Fem!Therapist!Reader ✨

Minors do ¡NOT! interact with this post. Thanks.

A/N: Let me be upfront and say that I actually haven’t seen the boys 😭 not my cup of tea as far as shows go. So this perception of SB might be very far off. But like, he’s hot and he keeps showing up on my feed so this is happening >:) and in my defense I did try to do a little bit of research on America’s Ass(hole), so hopefully that shows lol. From what I understand he’s a TERRIBLE person who just so happens to be extremely attractive, so slay. Oh, also, to any therapist reading this: I am so, SO sorry.

Icons by me! Any and all interaction is very much appreciated!

Also- I’m looking for a beta reader/ editor! If you think you’d be interested, dm me!

Content Warnings: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ 🌶️honestly that about sums it up. There’s SOME- A LITTLE- plot but it’s more plop if you catch my drift. This is toe-curling, eyes-rolling, name-screaming, tsunami-coming level shit, ya hear?? At least, that’s what I went for. ;)

Just note that SB is… very SB for the better half of it. And he has an INSANE breeding kink.

The ending’s real rushed cause honestly this was mainly written for the spice, but hopefully it’s enjoyable!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taming Soldier Boy was a feat that should have been impossible. In all regards.

He was a jackass- apple didn’t fall far from the tree as far as he and his dad were concerned. It wasn’t necessarily Ben’s fault; you cant help your blood. But because of said aforementioned father, Ben was brought up on misogynist ideals and the ideal that he was simultaneously both a disappointment and the bearer of a massive god-complex. The former applied to when he was around his father, the latter to when he was around literally anyone else.

Not only that, but he was separated from society for forty years, being tortured- sorry, “experimented on”- by a skeevy Russian organization that his own teammates had pawned him off too. Sure, he had committed massive, unforgivable atrocities, but quite frankly, the other supes on Payback weren’t much better. Maybe not as bad, but certainly not much better.

He re-walked upon the United States at the very young age of one hundred and three, coupled with PTSD, a god complex and more “back in my day” rants than your weird old uncle could ever hope to spew.

And now the thing is: it’s easy to make him look like he blends in. Trim the disheveled forty-year-old beard, give him some boyish bangs, throw him in a tight white shirt and a Giants jersey with grey sweats and all of a sudden you have a normal looking, abnormally attractive dude. Looks maybe thirty seven. Has a smile that has probably actually, literally charmed the pants off of someone.

But to make him act right? That’s the hard part.

That also where you came in.

You were a therapist with a damn good reputation. Shouldn’t have been involved with Supes in the slightest, but you owed Hughie Campbell a favor. Good kid who just so happened to have powers. So be it.

The kid had stumbled into your office a few years before Soldier Boy returned, and you had had multiple sessions before he dropped of the grid. You paid it no mind- you have a lot of clients, and therapy isn’t a good world to get attached to any of them.

But then one day, after one of Homelander’s many destructive “saves” of the city, you found yourself stuck in a burning building. By some miracle Hughie was in the same building, and he teleported you out and onto safer ground. Sure it was awkward being held up bridal style by a young dude who was ass-naked, but stranger things have happened.

Because of the save, you felt that you owed him, and told him as much. He was gracious, not wanting to take advantage of you, and you went back to not hearing anything from him.

That is, until just after the news article about Soldier Boy’s return broke out. It was definitely a headline that had caused you to raise a brow, but from what you knew America’s first supe was not what Vought made him out to be in the eyes of the public. He was an asshole who killed activists, and was most likely very racist. If anything, seeing the headline made you slightly wary for the good of the world. But you let it slide, figuring that if you already existed in a world where psychos like Homelander did you would probably be fine if there was one more.

Well, you were very much wrong.

A few days after the article broke out, Hughie called you. Asked if you would be okay to take you up on that favor. Of course, you said yes- you were only alive because of him. He had showed up to your house, and teleported you to a dinghy motel with no explanation, rendering you both in the same awkward situation as before. Him holding you bridal style, ass naked. If you had a nickel for every time he’s done that… you’d have ten cents, but it’s still oddly specific of it to happen twice.

“Listen,” he had said, setting you down. You had no choice but to do so, given that he was ass naked and it would be really awkward to see that. So you kept your eyes locked on his as he talked. “You know how Soldier Boy is back?”

“Mhm…” you nodded warily, knowing damn well that that was an ominous hook to your situation.

“Uh, he’s insane.”

“Sorry, he’s, like, he is? Presently?”

“Yeah… he’s in there and I think he would really benefit from a little therapy. His mind’s wired like a grandpa who has stories from every war.”

“Fuck, Hugh,” you cursed. He winced, his sweet eyes opened wide. “Sorry. It’s just.. are you kidding me?” Soldier Boy? It would probably take a team of specialists to figure out what’s going on in that head.

“Look, I know it’s a lot to ask, but could you at least try?”

“Only for you.” It was really hard to have resolve with those puppy dog eyes staring at you.

“Thanks, y/n. Really.”

So you had walked in behind him; waiting as he threw on some sweats that were in a plastic bag outside of the motel room door.

You walked in together, only to see the most beautiful man you’d ever seen sitting on the bed, shoes still on.

Look. Everyone has fantasized about Soldier Boy at least once in their lives. The pinnacle of physical perfection, charisma oozing from his pores- it was hard not to. You were no exception- in your younger years there had certainly been more than a few nights where you were fucking yourself to pictures or videos of him, pathetically rutting on your clit and wishing it was his huge, gloved hands instead.

Of course, that was well before the article on the truth about him broke out. After that he had majorly lost his sex appeal.

However, seeing him in person immediately flashed you back to being younger and sexually frustrated, wondering how a man like that even existed. He was even better looking in person, piercing green eyes boring holes into you.

Thankfully it only took one douchey comment to snap you back to reality.

“So prostitutes are still a thing?” he asked, the question directed at Hughie. You immediately balled your hands into fists at your side, ready to tell this old-ass off, before remembering that you were there on professional business.

“No, no, she’s a therapist,” Hughie told him. “Y/n L/n, the best in the business.”

“You brought me a shrink?” he laughed incredulously. “Fuck you, I don’t have shell shock!”

He definitely had shell shock.

You didn’t bother waiting for Hughie to answer. “Listen, Mr. Boy, I’m only here ‘cause I owe this kid a favor. Would it really pain you so much to talk about yourself for an hour?” Your hands were planted on your hips.

“Man, when did women get so feisty?” he asked, that 1950s accent oozing through his words.

“Once they came to their senses,” I say with sass.

“So what? All I have to do is talk to a pretty thing about me?”

“Pretty much,” you conceded, ignoring the “compliment” he payed you.

“Fine.” Great. He agreed. How wonderful.

“I’m going to get some food, I’ll be back in an hour. If you need anything at all, just text me,” Hughie told me. “Thanks again.”

“Sure,” you replied, leaning in by his ear. “I think you’re going to owe me after this.

“Yeah, you’re probably not wrong,” he agrees, patting you on the back before teleporting away to the store. Man, this power thing… never gets any less weird.

“Take a seat,” Soldier Boy patted his lap.

“Hilarious,” you rolled your eyes, sitting on the other bed. Look, if he hadn’t been the jackass you knew him to be you most definitely would’ve sat on his lap. But you knew better. At least in the moment. “So, tell me about yourself.”

“M’name’s Ben, and I’m a soldier. My daddy hated me, so became a superhero. Surprise, surprise, he still hated me. But I’m better, stronger than he ever was. Might go take a piss on his grave while I’m here.”

“Interesting,” you murmur, putting together a mental file. Name: Ben. No last name? Weird. Daddy issues- makes the god complex make sense. Hmm. “Did you ever have a mother in the picture?”

“No. Died when I was a boy.” Added to file.

“Okay, so then why take the serum?” You know why, but you want to see something.

“You deaf? I said it was cause my daddy hated me.”

“You took a untested, potentially dangerous serum just because of your daddy issues?” you ask, matching his rude tone.

“You- you know what? This is boring. How about you and I fuck instead of this, hm?” he asks. Him saying the word fuck turned you on more than it should, but his misogyny was a quick turnoff.

“I think I’m just going to text Hughie,” you said, moving to stand, wholly unimpressed.

“Wait, no- I did it cause I hated feeling weak. Feeling stupid. Thought it would turn me into someone, just turned me into a jackass machine,” he said honestly, his eyes big and sad.

“Okay,” you said simply, sitting back down. That’s much more like it. “So then what led you to murder innocent people?”

If this were a normal session you would have never asked such a thing. Ever. But this was anything but normal.

“What did you just say to me?” And there it was. A glimpse of that Soldier Boy quick temper. You probably shouldn’t have been making him mad, but you didn’t know how else to go about this given that you weren’t in your professional environment.

“You heard me,” you told him with your arms crossed, trying to bite back the fear caused by

“You’re playing with fire,” he warns, fists balled at his sides. “A question like that’s gonna cost ya.”

You roll your eyes, standing my ground. “Why. Did. You. Murder. Them?”

“Because they deserved it,” he yelled, standing up. You do your best not to flinch, but he was an imposing six-and-some feet tall.

“How? Did the Milk family deserve it? Did their son?” you yell, fighting off the fear in your voice.

He stops then, jaw clenching. “I was the good guy. The hero.” His voice breaks, ever so slightly. His green eyes burn holes into yours. You stare right back, just as intensely.

“So, imposter syndrome.”

“No!” he roared, the sound threatening to bring down the roof of the motel room.

“They were good people. Activists. Made a difference in their community.”

“That got what was coming to them.”

“What? A car being thrown at their house?”

“You…” he steps closer. You sit up in the bed, back against the headboard. “You don’t know me.”

I stand up then. Not nearly as tall as him, but in anger. “Yeah, but I know your actions.”

“Then you should think I’m a hero.”

“I don’t.” I say grimly, arms crossed.

“I’m Soldier Boy, for Christ’s sake,” he spat.

“Yeah, and I’m Y/N L/N. Who fucking cares.” Well this went from therapy to argument real fast.

He leans down then, by my ear. It’s all you can do not to back away as his hot breath fans the column of your neck. “Maybe you should.” His voice is gravelly, rough from anger but also from something else…

“Well I won’t.” You said, maintaining your ground.

“Wrong move, sweetheart,” he said, before crashing his lips to yours. You squeaked into the kiss, surprised, but he just took initiate to shove his tongue in your mouth, exploring with great fervor.

And you knew damn well how wrong this was. How unprofessional you had been; how bad it was that his tongue, this tongue of a murderer, was half down your throat. But in the moment you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, because he was just that good of a kisser. Made you forget about the misogyny and his volatility. At least, for the time being.

He pulled away, smirking down at you.

“If we do this, you’re going to talk to me after. Act like you’re an adult,” you told him sternly, as if your underwear wasn’t soaked with arousal from the kiss.

“Fine, fine,” he grumbled.

“I fucking mean it,” you reiterated, hands on his pecs.

“And I fucking said fine,” he retorted. “Ben,” he introduced as an after thought.

“Okay, cool. Ben.”

“That’s the name I better hear coming off those pretty lips in a couple minutes here,” his gaze darkened with lust, emerald green eyes darkened to the color of a forest cloaked in the dead of night..

“O-okay.” And there it is, the first time you gave into the stutter derived from your desire. This was dangerous, but once he kissed you again you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

When he pulled away he thumbed at your lower lip, and you immediately react led to his touch, mouth falling open around the digit. “Good girl,” he praised, and you hated the way you felt proud at his words. He pulled off his jersey and under shirt, urging you to do the same until you both stood before each other, topless. He crowded you against the bed until you fell back, calves draped over the edge. He made room for himself between your legs, kissing you furiously, and you let out little breathy sighs as he did so.

“Attagirl,” he breathed when you gasped his name as he bit along your collarbone. He continued his fiery trail, from the juncture of your earlobe and neck to your collar bone and then down your chest, and you knew damn well that you weren’t going to be able to cover up half of the marks he gave you. But you also couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“You-you can come in me,” you mumbled as he kisses the valley between your breasts.

He chuckles darkly. “Oh, I’ll fill you up real good” he said, eliciting a gasp from you when he bites your nipple.

He continued his path of kisses down your body, and in the bottom of your eye you could already see dark marks on the tops of your breasts, making your head fuzzy.

He stopped at your pants, biting the juncture of your hip and and thigh.

“‘m gonna get you ready for me,” he explained, before ripping off your pants and underwear in one go. This is not a metaphor, he literally tore them of you. You whined in protest, but he dismissed you, saying “I’ll get you new ones.”

And even though you knew he most definitely wouldn’t, his breath on your clit stopped you from caring.

He gave you no warning before diving into your soaked pussy, and you all but screamed his name when he fid, your fingers grasping his hair for dear life. He groaned into your cunt but kept going, spurred on by your actions.

The thing was, you hadn’t expected him to be good at eating pussy. He was from, like, the forties, after all. You thought that most people then probably didn’t bother as no one really cared about women and probably their pleasure back then.

Well, Soldier Boy- Ben- was very different.

He worked at you methodically, licking long stripes before thrusting his tongue in an out of you, testing the waters. He kept eye contact, and you could feel the smugness in his gaze as he watched you come apart.

Eventually he switched so that he was sucking on your clit, which would’ve been enough to bring you over already but then he added one of his long, thick fingers to your pussy. You yelped his name, not ready for the stretch and on the edge.

“Don’t stop,” you urged, whining. “Please don’t stop, Ben.”

And he didn’t, adding a second finger and scissoring within you. If his fingers were already like this, his cock…

But you couldn’t think about that then, nor could you really think about anything at all because he started tracing tight patterns on your bud and added a third finger, stretching you so far that you had no choice but to come. He helped you ride out your high for longer than you thought possible, lapping up all of your release before standing up to full height.

“That good, Sweets?” he smirked, looking down at your fucked out self. You nodded dumbly, and he chuckled. “Thought so.”

Your release covered his facial hair, but he didn’t seem to care much, just wiped a little off with his forearm. He then kicked off his shoes and took off his pants and underwear, and that’s when you saw it.

You were already baffled by him- beyond hot, perfect physique, pussy-eating champion, etc.

But his cock? It was huge. And it was perfect, a word that shouldn’t be able to be used to describe the male genitalia.

“Ben- that’s not going to fit-,” you gasp, sounding like a cheap porno.

“We’ll see about that,” he said, and from his tone you could tell he was going to bottom out no matter what.

Oh, god.

He climbed over you, his large forearms on either side of your head as he rested over you in a plank. He put a pillow under your hips, and you knew you were in for it.

He rubbed his glorious dick over your hole, your clit, and through your folds, covering it in your slick, and you moaned his name.

“Good girl,” he praised, before finally lining up with your entrance. You were already clenching around nothing, but then he started pushing in.

If his fingers were big, his dick… even the tip had you a moaning mess.

“Oh, honey, you’re tighter than a virgin who’s never touched herself,” he groaned as he pushed in, you writhing beneath him. “‘n I just stretched you out, too.” The pillow under your hips let him get impossibly deep, and after an eternity he finally bottomed out, so large that you shouldn’t have been able to take him. But you did, and he hadn’t even done anything yet but you were a whimpering, whiny mess under him.

“I’m gonna move now,” he told you, before pulling almost all the way out and back in, slowly. You were writhing under him, but he was undeterred, and just kept going until you gave him easy access.

“Ben?” you asked, your voice sweet. And you didn’t know what possessed you to add the next part of your question, but you did. “Can you fuck me?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he groaned, before rearing back again and slamming back into you. It was hard and it was rough, and it was exactly what you wanted even if you knew you weren’t gonna be able to sit right for a week.

You literally had a supe cock in you. You’d seen dildos of these, maybe even owned one, but nothing could do the real thing justice as you whined beneath it.

And if you thought it was already enough just taking him like this, once he started talking you were through.

“Yeah, take it,” he smirked, pounding into you at literal superhuman speed. “I’m going to destroy this cunt until we’re both leaking out of it, and then I’m going to keep going,” he promised against your collarbone, biting anywhere he pleased. You whimper against him, pussy clenching around his enormous length as it crashed in and out of your fluttering walls.

“You like that? Wanna be my little slut?” he grinned, rutting on your clit so you couldn’t answer. “You’d be a real good slut. Would just keep you at home all day, naked and always ready for me. Always full of me too,” he mused, his pace somehow getting rougher. Your mouth was dropped in a permanent ‘o’ as you reveled in the way his huge hands are squeezing your hips and pulling you against him, filing you to the base.

“No other boy can do it like me, sweetheart,” he said cockily. “Fill you up so good, make you mewl.” And as it turns out he was most definitively right about that. But then it was too hard to think about what’s right and wrong when-

“Ben- I- ‘m gonna-.”

“Aww baby, what’s the matter? ‘M I fucking you too good? You can’t talk?”

You moaned pathetically, pulling on his fluffy hair.

“I know, I know,” he said with a soft grunt. “Come for me, pretty thing. Come.” And you did. Hard, all consumingly. It hurt so good that you almost blacked out, but he kept going, doing his damnedest to overstimulate you.

“Ain’t done with you yet, sweetheart. Ain’t even close,” he told you, pulling you off of him and sitting, legs swung over the edge of the bed, feet planted on the ground. He grabbed you, letting you straddle his lap before slamming you down on his length. At this angle he could get impossibly deeper, his dick easily reaching your cervix on every thrust. You screamed, holding onto him for dear life with your face buried in his neck.

“Gonna fill you until you’re full, and then some,” he promised, lifting you up and down, flexing that super strength. “Rub on that pretty clit for me, doll,” he asked. You tried, you really did, but you were just so sensitive.

“That’s okay, I’ll do everything for you, you just take it like a good slut,” he cooed, bringing a hand between the two of you and rutting on your clit without abandon. You came again with a wail of his name before he pistoned into you sloppily, finally spilling his own release into you. And it was messy, and you were far too full to keep going, but he doesn’t care, somehow still hard even though he had just painted your walls with his thick, sticky cum.

You were babbling at this point, raking your nails against him as he kept going to town on your cunt.

“It’s just been too long, baby,” he explained, kissing the side of your head. “Got a little too much energy.” Yeah no shit, with the way that you knew that you were not going to be able to walk.

But he just couldn’t seem to shut up. “Y’know, if I had you back in my day we would’ve had ten kids. You would’ve give birth to one and then I’d put another one in you the next month,” he said as he continued his brutal pace. And damn, this man really had a breeding kink. It was not really your thing-kids tend to get in the way of careers, and also, you were infertile- but anything’s hot when it comes out of those plush lips with the 50s accent, so, naturally, you moan in response.

“Would’ve kept you sated all the time too, sweetheart. Any time you were hot and bothered, had an attitude… I’d fuck it out of you,” he murmured, enveloping you in his arms to hold you closer. You didn’t know if it’s the proximity to him, his voice, or the way that he hasn’t really let you come down from any of your highs, but suddenly you were coming again… just in a different way.

“Aww baby, did you just squirt?” he chuckled. You did all you can to further hide your face in his neck as he just kept going, only concious enough to register your embarrassment and fatigue. He pulls you by your hair to look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart, that was so hot.” You smiled, cheeks pink, your somehow still horny self proud of his compliment.

“It’s okay, just give me one more and you’ll be done, alright?”

“O-okay,” you say shakily. You hadn’t even noticed hot much your legs were quivering until then, and he laughed, squeezing them close.

“You’re so cute, y’know that?” he praised, rubbing your clit. Your blush became even more furious before you came again at him tracing patterns into your poor, overstimulated, sensitive bud. He came in you shortly after with a very sexy grunt, and it was just leaking out of you, going all over the tops of his thighs. He held you at the base of his cock though, not ready to pull out.

“You alright, Dollface?” he asked, gingerly moving- somehow while keeping his cock in you- you onto your back. You nodded, sleepiness overtaking you.

“Good girl,” he nuzzled your nose, gifting you the view of all of the pretty freckles on his cheeks looking like gold specs. You whined as he pulls out, and he tutted, plugging you up with his fingers.

“Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. If you were a supe we’d be going another ten rounds, but I know you’re tired,” he warned, cock still semi-hard.

“Ben,” you gestured towards it, unsure what you were going to say because as much as you wish you had his stamina, you didn’t.

“It’ll be fine, sweets,” he shrugged it off. “Perks of the unbelievable stamina.” He kissed your forehead, before lightly thrusting his fingers in and out of you in attempt to keep the cum in. Pitiful tears leaked out of the corner of your eyes from the overstimulation.

“There, there,” he cooed, kissing them away. “Just don’t want to waste any,” he smirked, before leaving his long, thick fingers where they were inside you, all the way up to the knuckle. Your legs can’t stop shaking, and you try to talk but you can’t.

“Let me get you some water, put your fingers here for me,” he said, waiting until you do so, feeling your sticky release on your hand. You knew damn well that you werenot going to be able to stand.

“Here, sweets,” he returned, still ass naked, holding a glass, taking your fingers out of your cunt and licking them clean. “We taste real good, sugar.” You whimpered, ready to go at it again, abused pussy be damned. Speaking of, the poor cleaning staff… your mixed releases were dripping out of your poor hole, coating the bed and the bottom of your thighs in the stickiness.

“You really are an insatiable little minx,” he chuckled, holding you up so you can take a sip of the water. You obliged, eagerly chugging it down.

“I’m not going to be able to walk,” you muttered, resting your head on his freckled shoulders.

“Looks like you’re going to need to stick around, so I can take care of you,” he squeezed you.

“I’ll tell Hughie to take another hour, tell him that the therapy’s going real well,” you suggested.

“Oh yeah, real well. Definitely a happy ending, if you catch my drift.”

“Multiple happy endings.”

“Atta girl,” he kisses the top of your head.

You sat there in silence for a bit, basking in the afterglow as he rocked you back and fourth gently.

You’d seen so many sides to this man: Misogynistic, quick tempered, sex-god… but sweetness? This was the one that surprised you. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

“Ben?” you broke the silence.

“Yeah?”

“Uh, I could help you, y’know. If you want, anyway. And it wouldn’t even be proper therapy- you know, cause we just- yeah.” your words were shaky but you meant them. There was something about the supe that made you think that maybe, just maybe you could help him.

“I dunno, sweets. I think I’m a little too far gone.”

Vulnerability. That’s progress.

“Could you at least try?”

“I can’t say no to you,” he said. And you’d take him up on that.

••••••••••••A Couple Years Later••••••••••••

Ben Johnson, as he was now known, ended up becoming a normal member of society. After a LOT of work, he’s grown into himself. He cares about people, his ego’s lessened, his temper too. You had helped him through the whole way- gotten him a proper therapist and everything. And now you two were a couple who could just go out and get donuts, and do normal couple things.

“They’re cream-filled!” he beams boyishly, his bangs in his face and his eyes sparkling. He sets the box down in front of you, somehow having already gotten powdered sugar in his beard. He leans in and whispers excitedly, “you know, like you!”

“You’re bad,” you giggle, as if you don’t have him leaking out of you where you sit. You had stopped for a quickie before you made it to the donut shop, it wasn’t your fault that you were so irresistible to each other.

“Not anymore, sweetheart,” he winks with a click of the tongue. Which is true- there’s a certain softness to him these days. His jaw isn’t so set, the crow’s feet by his eyes have deepened. He isn’t so volatile, his tempers dissolved a bit. He’s become more human.

Not to mention that he’s made great progress in apologizing to his victims and making amends to the best of his ability. It may never be enough, but now that he has someone to teach him how to be right and a better understanding of the complexities of the modern world, there’s a chance. And that’s a chance worth taking, to help someone who could’ve been good become good.

Taming Soldier Boy was a feat that should have been impossible, but you had nailed it.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hope you enjoyed this fic! If you have any ideas for headcanons or fics, my ask box is always open! I don’t bite- not unless you want me too 😏 (so. So. Sorry 😭)

Xx!