#if he could get this wrong than what else?

[snoopyracing]

grapes and good fortune // ln4

pairing: lando norris X reader

word count: 4.7k

warnings: cursing and alcohol use

includes: friends to lovers, mutual pining, and fluff

summary: when your plan to find love on new year's eve doesn't work a certain someone may just fix those plans.

a/n: surprise! here's a cute little lando nye fic for you! it was so fun to write and i hope you all enjoy :)

masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It’s not the end of the world to be single. You’ve gone your whole life technically being single– each guy you’ve had a thing with never resulted in a full fledged relationship. It never really seemed to bother you that much, you’d learned to be more independent and learned that your time is in fact more valuable than men think. Though, as the years passed and your friends started to get into serious relationships you couldn’t help but feel a little left behind.

You knew everyone’s time would come and seriously you were in your early to mid twenties – you still had a whole lifetime ahead of you. But the third wheeling you seemed to be a professional at by now was starting to get embarrassing. Also, holidays just really seemed to suck while being single. You knew there was more to life than being in a relationship, but god dammit you’re a human. You crave love and affection and no matter how independent you are– you still want to love and be loved. 

Your friend group had unsuccessfully tried setting you up with more guys than you could count. Each one you really did try and give a chance, but there was nothing there. You didn’t think you had high standards by any means, but if you didn’t feel anything with these guys then why waste your time? 

“You went on how many dates this month and none of them piqued your interest?” Your friend grills you as the two of you are sitting on the balcony of your apartment. You’d come back from another unsuccessful date and decided to drown your sorrows with a bottle of wine and a yapping session. 

“Genuinely think there might be something wrong with me at this point.” You complain as you sip the sweet wine in your glass. 

“There isn’t anything wrong with you.” The two dates a week for the past month say different, but you weren’t going to actually disclose that number to her. “Maybe your heart has already laid claim to someone else?” 

“I think I would know if I was in love with someone.” She doesn’t say anything, but the way she inconspicuously sips her wine is telling you what she’s wanting to say. “Not this again.” 

She puts her hands up in defense all while having a shit eating grin on her face. “I didn’t even say anything, but you immediately assuming that’s who I’m talking about says it all.” 

“I’m not in love with Lando.” 

Yes you were. 

“I mean he’s one of my closest friends and it would just make things weird. He also for sure does not look at me in any way other than platonic. He’s got models flocking to him and literally thousands of other girls– I couldn’t compete.” Your friend remains silent once again as she sips her wine and watches the scene in front of her unfold. “Ok– just because I drunkenly admitted last year that I might possibly have a little tiny miniscule amount of feelings towards him does not mean I’m in love with him.” 

“Yes it does.” Your friend replies without missing a beat. 

“No it doesn’t” You say with a huff. 

“Y/N, babe. You don’t see what everyone else sees and maybe your brain is trying to protect itself from the small chance of destruction, but you two are so in love it’s actually ridiculous.” 

“I don’t think he’s looking for a relationship right now. If this season so far is any indication of what next season is gonna be like, do you really think he’ll want a serious relationship to juggle too?” You’d chugged the last bit of wine in your glass and immediately filled it back up. 

A loud scoff comes from your friend. “With some girl he just met? No. You are a whole different story though. You two have history and are quite literally each other’s person. Two peas in a pod. Match made in heaven.” 

You didn’t understand why your friend was so adamant about Lando and you getting together. What if it ended in flames and your friend group is stuck having to play children of divorce? You don’t want that. 

“Do you hear yourself right now? I think you’ve had too much wine because that’s not true.” 

She sits up on the edge of the wicker couch with an annoyed expression painted across her face  “Do you hear yourself? I’ve never seen someone deny themselves happiness like you.” 

“I don’t think I have actual feelings for Lando though. I really think it’s just because we are the only two single people in our friend group and it’s like I feel obligated to somehow have feelings for him. I just need to find the right person and whatever I may be feeling about Lando will go away.” 

If someone could professionally roll their eyes your friend would be a pro. “You’ve already found the right person though!”

Before you can argue back for the hundredth time tonight the familiar tune of an incoming facetime call fills the air. Your phone that’s sitting on the glass coffee table lights up and Lando’s face fills the screen. You glance over at your friend who’s got a smirk on her face that could rival the Cheshire Cat. 

“Speak of the devil.” She laughs. 

You let it ring, fully knowing that if you answer it your friend will be insufferable the whole time you’re talking to him. You do send him a quick text to make sure everything's alright and of course he immediately responds with-

everything's all right.. just missed you is all. 

Which has you locking your phone and stuffing it in the pocket of your hoodie. When you reach for your glass and realize it’s empty again you decide to just grab the bottle and drink straight from it. 

“Drinking from the bottle because you’ve come to terms with how dumb you’ve been?” Your friend teases. 

“Nope. It’s from having to deal with you all evening.” 

Alright so maybe you did have actual feelings for Lando, but you were never going to fully admit that to your friend or anyone else for that matter. You didn’t want to risk ruining what you two already had, which was an amazing friendship. So for the following months you continue to go on an endless amount of dates and with each one that fails your friend's voice rings in your mind.

Maybe you wouldn’t be able to find someone else if you subconsciously compared every guy to Lando. They were never funny enough or charming enough or took themselves too seriously. In the end it was simply the fact that they weren’t Lando. So maybe your heart had already dug its claws into Lando, but you weren’t going to give up without one last battle. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

New Year's Eve. The final night of the year and the one party of the year that celebrates ends and beginnings. You’d hoped that with the plan you had for tonight that your streak of horrible dates would end and the next one would be the one. The trend of eating twelve grapes under a table at midnight on New Year’s Eve had been all over your social media. According to the internet if you were to do this you’d find love or your soulmate the following year– which was something you were so desperate for. So, your said plan was to bring some grapes with you and find a table to sit under. 

As you were taking one last final look in the mirror a familiar British accent echoed through your apartment. “Are you almost ready?” 

You quickly slipped on your heels and grabbed your bag off the dresser, but by the time you turned around there stood Lando, leaning against your doorframe with a slight smirk on his face. “Been waiting forever. It’s gonna be next year by the time we get out of here.” 

His teasing, which usually always got a reaction out of you, was ignored. The sight of him had you frozen in your tracks for a moment. He had on a white button up, which he always looked good in, but it was the couple of undone buttons at the top and the necklace you got him for his birthday last year around his neck that got your attention. There was always something about seeing Lando in things you got him that made that funny feeling bloom in your stomach. Perhaps it was the fact that everytime he chose to wear them you knew he was thinking about you and that when he was away a part of you was always with him. 

“Quit staring.” 

You're knocked out of your trance and the blush that creeps onto your cheeks from getting caught is almost as embarrassing as being caught. “I wasn’t staring. I was admiring my good taste. Should have gotten one myself.” You try to play it off and push your way past him with what little amount of confidence you have at the moment. 

“I’ll get it for you, then we can be matching.” Lando says as he follows behind you. 

“I can buy it myself.” 

“Yeah, but I’m still gonna get it for you anyways.”

You stop in the kitchen and grab the little bag of grapes out of the fridge. “I don’t need you to get it for me Lan.” You’re too preoccupied with figuring out how to fit everything into your small purse to see the utterly confused look on Lando’s face. 

“Ok forget about the necklace. Why the hell are you bringing grapes with you?” 

“Incase I get hungry.” You reply without missing a beat. 

“There will literally be food at the party. I even made sure Max got those little cocktail sausages you like.” 

And there he goes again, making those feelings you’ve tried and are still presently trying to push down come to the surface all because of some damn cocktail sausages. “I appreciate that Lan, but I’ve been on a grape kick lately. Just can’t seem to get enough of them.” 

With your purse finally closed with the grapes securely inside, you head towards the door, more than ready to get to the party. 

“I’ll text Max and tell him to get some grapes delivered.” Lando mumbles as he closes the door behind him. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You’d never considered yourself much of a party girl, but there must have been something in the air tonight because you were living it up. From the dancing to the drinking and then to top it off somehow in the middle of everything you showed off your DJing skills with Lando. 

Somehow you’d managed to unglue yourself from Lando for a moment and ended up in the kitchen among the various kinds of alcohol. You’re pouring the last bit of coke into your coke and malibu when Max comes up beside you. 

“I see you finally escaped from Lando for a moment.” 

An airy laugh emits from you. “Yeah, he’s been a little clingy tonight.” You state as you turn and lean back against the counter, facing the large crowd of people. 

Max copies your actions, but not before grabbing a beer. “What are you talking about tonight? When he’s back home it’s like you two are conjoined at the hip.”  Which was true, but you didn’t get to see Lando as much as you’d like, so you make the most of what you can. “Oh forgot to tell you, your grapes are in the fridge.” He motions towards the stainless steel appliance with his beer bottle. “Lando better pay me back. Do you know how much I paid to get that damn bag delivered? Absolutely insane.” 

Your mouth forms an ‘O’ shape at Max’s words. “I heard him mention something about asking you to get some when we were leaving. I thought he was just joking.” 

Max scoffs. “There is no such thing as Lando joking when it comes to you. Think he’d chop off his own arm to make sure you were happy. Hell if you needed an organ he’d be the first one in line to give you one.” 

This time it’s your turn to scoff. “No he wouldn’t.” 

“Why do you do that?” Max groans. 

You narrow your eyes at him, confused as to what he was referring to. “Do what?” 

“Act like he doesn’t think the world of you.” 

Your mouth opens to reply, but no words come out. Instead you bring your cup to your lips and fill the void with your drink. What Max had said was true, but you couldn’t help it. You figured if you forced yourself to think that Lando didn’t care that deeply about you, then those feelings that you harbor for him wouldn’t rise to the surface. It didn’t help that his behavior recently had you thinking that perhaps he felt the same about you and when you have your mutual friends in your ear implying that to be true it just makes things that much harder for you. 

“You probably haven’t even noticed that he’s been practically watching us talk this whole time have you?” 

You can feel your heart rate start to speed up just at the thought of it. As your eyes scan the room they finally land on the Brit standing in the corner with some other people, but he’s not actually engaging in the conversation, he’s too busy staring back at you. Somehow from across the room you can still see those pretty mixture of blue and green eyes of his sparkle and when he realizes you're finally looking back at him a shy smile spreads across his face before he’s quickly looking away. 

“Wish you two would stop dancing around each other and just admit what we all already know.” Max mumbles before taking a swig of his beer. 

Maybe it’s the mixture of alcohol and the fact that you’ve once again got someone in your ear about Lando and you, but you can sense those feelings starting to claw their way back up and you aren’t sure if you can push them back down tonight. 

“Ten minutes until midnight!” The DJ’s voice travels through the apartment and you’re sure Max will be getting some kind of fee taped to his door in the morning. 

Max says something about talking to you later before exiting the kitchen and you realize with ten minutes till midnight that you’ve got to get your grapes and find a table to fit under. For the moment you push Lando to the back of your mind and focus on your very important task at hand. 

Luckily for you Max had a decently sized dining table in his apartment so with your grapes in hand you crawled under the table, which thankfully was shielded by a tablecloth, and settled in for your feast. 

Lando on the other hand had been searching for you everywhere since the ten minute announcement. He’d literally just seen you in the kitchen with Max and then when he looked back again you were both gone. He’d gone in the bathrooms, the bedrooms, the closets, every single place he could think you would be and it’s like you had vanished. Max had a large apartment, especially to be living in London, but it wasn’t that big to allow for you to not be found. His texts to you had gone unanswered and he began to think maybe you had left, but he knew you would have told him if you were leaving, so that theory went out the window. 

When the five minute announcement hit his ears he began asking people if they had seen you and with each no or i think she was in the kitchen a while ago he received his hopes of finding you before midnight started to diminish. 

He’d finally worked up the courage to tell you how he’d felt tonight. After years of holding himself back and not wanting to ruin what you two already had, he’d decided that life was too short and that he would come to regret not allowing himself to truly love you like he should. He knew you were the one and there wasn’t a bone in his body that didn’t think you didn’t feel the same. So, he was finally going to bite the bullet tonight and he wanted you to be the person he was kissing as the clock struck twelve. But if he couldn’t find you, then how in the world was he supposed to do that? 

Lando was honestly starting to get worried over not being able to find you, screw the whole love confession at this point. What if something had happened to you? He’d been all over Max’s place countless times and he still couldn’t find you. With the official countdown echoing through the apartment he decided to just say fuck it and head to your place and see if you had gone home.

As he was heading to get his coat a familiar sparkly heel sticking out from under the dining table caught his attention. It was the same type of heels he’d seen you put on earlier and he did somewhat of a double take. He wondered if it was the couple drinks he’d had messing with him because why would you be sitting under Max’s dining table? 

He crouches down and slowly lifts the table cloth up, unsure of what he’s going to find underneath it. Everyone is only getting louder and with five seconds until midnight what he finds staring back at him under the table is not at all how he expected his night to end up. There you are with your now empty bag of grapes on the floor and your cheeks stuffed full of said grapes. You resemble something of a chipmunk and Lando can’t help but laugh at you. 

“What the hell are you doing down here?” 

The excessively loud shouting of happy new year from everyone while noise makers and confetti fill the air distract both Lando and you for a moment. He didn’t think this is the position he’d be in right now, he figured he’d be in that crowd with his lips on yours like so many others right now. While you on the other hand didn’t think you’d be caught in such an embarrassing situation, not to mention you hadn’t even gotten all your grapes down, so this stupid thing was probably all for nothing. 

His attention is back on you in no time and he really wants to know what you were doing. Were you that addicted to grapes that you had to hide under the table while you got your fix? If so, he may need to have a talk with you. 

“Seriously, why are you hiding under the table stuffing grapes into your mouth?” He prods again. 

Your mouth is still so full of the grapes that you can’t really talk and all you can manage to get out is leave while simultaneously trying to jab his leg with your heel. You were embarrassed and at this point scared you might choke on the grapes, and you’d rather go out in peace then have Lando cause a scene because you were choking. 

“Ouch!” Lando yelps as your heel finally makes contact with him. You know he’s being dramatic because you barely even kicked him, but you would try anything for him to drop that table cloth and let you be. “Come on, come out from under there.” Lando grabs your arm and practically forces you to come out from under the table.

Luckily, everyone else was too preoccupied with still ringing in the New Year to see you crawl out and as you dust yourself off you're still chomping on the last couple grapes left. The party only seems to be getting crazier and you don’t really feel like staying here until the party inevitably ends at an ungodly hour in the morning, especially now that your plan for love has undoubtedly failed. 

You finally swallow the last couple grapes and take a deep breath, the fear of choking and embarrassment now behind you. “Do you care if I leave? Not really feeling the party that much anymore.” 

Lando doesn’t even question your request. “I’ll walk you home, let me grab our coats and tell Max we are leaving.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The cold England air hits you as you exit Max’s apartment building and you’re thankful that your place isn’t very far from his. It’s silent between Lando and you for some time, the sound of your heels on the pavement, fireworks in the distance, and other people celebrating are the only things you two hear. 

“Can I ask you something?” Lando finally breaks the silence. 

“Shoot.” 

He takes a deep breath fully knowing once he opens this locked away side of him that there’s no going back. “Have you ever thought about us?” 

You feel your heart skip a beat at his question, yet you try to remain cool and collected. “What do you mean?” 

He stops in his tracks causing you to mimic his actions. “Like,” he motions between the two of you, “us.”

There’s not a doubt in your mind about what he’s referring to and yes you do think about the two of you. Yet your brain feels scrambled once you're actually confronted with the possibility of Lando feeling the same as you. You’d tried so hard to ignore the feelings, hell you’d tried something you saw on the internet to hopefully bring a different man into your life to finally squash those feelings. You’d just never thought you’d be in this position though and it’s throwing you into a whirlwind. 

Lando isn’t sure what your silence means and he figures he’s already started, he might as well just fully admit it at this point. 

“Fuck it. I told myself I was going to do this tonight and I’m not gonna chicken out again.” His cheeks are rosy from the cold and you can tell by the way his pretty eyes dart all around your face that he’s trying to figure out how to say what he wants to say. “I’ve got feelings for you.” He finally blurts out.

“No scratch that I’m in love with you Y/N. Think I have been for some time now. I’ve tried telling you how I felt for what seems like ages, but I’ve always been too scared to. I’ve been afraid that you wouldn’t feel the same and to me I’d rather bottle up my feelings and keep you in my life then tell you how I feel and lose you. But clearly I’ve grown tired of that and realized that the reward would be higher than the risk. You’re my person Y/N. I couldn’t imagine life without you and to have you be mine would make life that much better. So here I am baring my heart to you on some street in London on New Year’s Eve. I actually had a whole plan on how I was-” 

His rambling while you loved most of the time was cut off by your desire to shut him up with your lips on his and you did just that. You grabbed him by his coat and pulled him into you, your lips crashing together. It takes him a moment to realize what's happening, but when his brain finally starts to work and he kisses you back it’s everything you could have imagined and more.

Kissing Lando is like heaven on Earth and the way his soft lips feel against yours has you wishing you would have just stopped being so stubborn and listened to your friends ages ago. His large warm hands come out of his pockets and he cups your face as he deepens the kiss, which has you feeling lightheaded and warm all over. 

There’s fireworks being let off not too far away that light up the sky above you, but you’re too engrossed in each other to pay them much mind. It’s truly like a scene straight out of a movie and you know you’ll remember this moment forever. 

You two finally pull away to breathe and it’s like you can see the world in a whole new way. The depressing grey landscape of London in the winter time suddenly looks like it was painted in technicolor and neither of you can wipe the cheek hurting grin off your faces. “So I guess you feel the same?” He asks. 

“Yes Lando Norris, I’m in love with you too. Have been for a while and like you I didn’t want to ruin what we already have. To me there was no possible way that you felt the same and I hate rejection and the idea of losing you. So, I went on a million dates trying to find someone that would replace how I felt about you, but I guess you can’t replace someone who your heart has already laid claim to.” 

You feel Lando intertwine your fingers with his and it’s like everything just feels right in the world. 

“I’m glad we stopped being so stubborn and that I don’t have to see you out with all those random guys anymore.” 

“Believe me, none of them even came close to comparing to you. It was like going on a date with a sack of potatoes most of the time.” 

His infectious laugh fills your ears and you feel your heart swell. You can’t believe this was what you were depriving yourself of for so long. 

The rest of the walk back to your apartment is spent walking hand in hand. All while little giggles escape each of you ever so often and Lando occasionally kisses you on the head or lifts your intertwined hands up to plant a kiss there. 

“I have to ask again. It’s really been bugging me. What were you doing under that table?” Lando asks as you near your apartment building. A loud groan emits from you and there isn’t anything less that you would want to talk about than that. “Come on, just tell me!” 

“Fine! I saw this thing on the internet that if you eat twelve green grapes under a table at midnight that it’s supposed to bring you luck in the love department in the New Year. Like you’d find your soulmate or something. I was so desperate to try and get over these feelings I have for you so what we had wouldn’t be ruined that I was willing to try anything.” 

He’s silent for a moment and then he looks at you with the biggest smile on his face. “Well I’d say it worked didn’t it? You’ve found love and not to be overzealous, but I’d say your soulmate too.” 

You’re stunned for a moment when you realize that yes, the grapes did work, just not in the way you planned. The universe had put Lando in your life years ago and for some weird reason had you wait this long to finally truly be in one another's lives, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Hell, you’d eat a whole package of grapes if that meant Lando and you got to be together in every lifetime. 

“They did, didn't they? I guess almost choking to death was worth it in the end.” 

“I mean I know I’m every woman’s dream, but you didn’t almost have to kill yourself to get my attention baby.” 

You playfully slap his arm as he laughs at you. That big head of his was sometimes fully ego and you realized you were going to have to put up with it all the time now. “Oh shut up.” 

“Yeah, but you love me.” He states before pressing a kiss to your lips, which has your mind feeling like TV static once again. 

When you pull away and look him in the eyes there’s nothing but pure love staring back at you and you know that this is who is meant to be in your life, till the end. “More than you’ll ever know.” 

The next morning you receive a group text from Max with Lando and you in it.  

max: why have i found an empty bag with what looks to be a grape stem in it under my dining table??? i fully know it was one of you.

you: i don’t know what you're talking about. 

lando: me either. no grapes were consumed by us last night. must have been someone else. 

[satkru]

੭* ‧₊° ichigo kurosaki x male reader

*๑♡՞ . rough sex , enemies to lovers , barely legal adults , little to no respect for one another during sex , raw sex , public sex

p.s . i have literally little to no idea how accurate my writing abt ichigo will be as i've really only watched the series until like ep 8-9(??) i'll probably pick it back up once i find the motivation to but rn im freeballing this 💔

ichigo and y/n had a rivalry known throughout the entirety of the whole school. a rivalry so bad that the administration of the school had to put them on two different floors with two different schedules in order for them to not engage with one another, otherwise it would end in an intense scrabble of sorts.

but that still didnt stop the two from sharing nasty glares at one another from time to time, no one really knew how they started such a rival-ship, but some just say that they stepped on the wrong foot and never recovered from it.

the true reason for such an intense relationship is that they both had an eye for the lovely lady known as Orihime. Her gorgeous orange eyes paired with her flowy ginger hair was a match made in heaven. Both of them could not keep their eyes off of that girl.

but one faithful day, after school had ended and the halls were empty. the two were set up to clean the rooms, with a teacher on the scene of course. Each time they came close to the others proximity, it was like watching two territorial dogs growling at each other, waiting for the other to strike.

but that strike never came as long as the professor was around. Eventually, the period of peace had to come to an end, as the teacher exclaimed they needed to use the restroom. "dont you two dare lay a hand on each other while im gone, or else you two are suspended for the rest of the year", the words burned into the nerves of the two.

"so, do you still like orihime" y/n asked as he swept the remaining dust on the floor, "why is that any of your business" ichigo spat out, a hint of anger laced his tone. "just wondering, you know. she has been looking at me twice now".

ichigo gripped onto the handle of his own broom, trying to contain his anger. "shes been getting quite.. close, to me" y/n said with a chuckle, he knew what he was doing was ticking off his rival, but the sensation of pissing someone off just called to him.

"she asked me to go to her house today, but dont worry, i'll make sure to save some space for you" kurosaki couldnt hold his jealously anymore, although he knew y/n was bluffing, the thought of him with his crush agitated him. and with that, he found himself throwing the broom across the room, almost hitting y/n in the process.

the man grinned, an annoying feature ichigo had always hated whenever he and y/n got into disputes. "uh oh, did i make sweet kurosaki angryy" y/n said with fake innocence in his voice, pouting his lip and laying a finger on his chin to enhance his "sweetness".

"shut your mouth already" kurosaki growled, his hands clenched into fists as he watched y/n continue to piss him off. "you'll never be with such a girl, soon enough, she'll be begging for me and my dick soon, her pussy will remember the shape of me and make enough room to fit me. she'll never think of you again after i go over to her house."

each word out of y/n's mouth pissed ichigo more off than before, his eyes were glued to the floor to not meet eyes, otherwise, the situation would get out of hand. the teasing man began walking towards kurosaki, his face still in an annoyingly smug expression.

"c'mon kurosaki, look at me, remember my face for the rest of your goddamn life. remember that i'll be the one taking care of who you thought was going to be your future wife." ichigo couldnt take the amount of disrespect he was experiencing, causing him to throw an unexpected punch towards y/n, making him fall to the floor with blood dripping from his nose.

although it was sudden, y/n expected such a reaction, this was all apart of his plan of course. ichigo reached down and grabbed y/n by the throat and pulled him up so they could be eye to eye. "you fucking bitch, youre getting me all riled up for what? huh? do you get off of this?" y/n chuckled dryly, "and what if i do?". such a response threw ichigo off guard, causing him to receive a heavy punch to his cheek.

"dont tell me youre gonna kink shame me, kuro" ichigo steadily hoisted himself up with the help of the desks, his breath more heavy than before. "god do you ever stop talking" the ginger haired man whispered under his breath, barely audible but still loud enough to be caught by y/n's hearing. "dont be so mean ichi-" before he could finish his sentence, kurosaki lunged forward and managed to grab a hold of y/n's hair, twisting his hair enough and slamming his face into the desk.

"i can see you've gotten a bit more intelligent when it comes to fighting now, is that black haired girl training you?" kurosaki froze, how the fuck did he know about rukia? ichigo tumbled over his words, trying to make up excuses and babbling on about stories that made no sense. "you know, there is a way to keep me from outing you" y/n said, his voice drenched in hunger and lust. the ginger sneered, "oh fuck it"

and with that, ichigo hurriedly unbuckled his belt and shuffled his boxers down. leaving no room for hesitance, "god, all of your teasing has made me rock fucking solid.." kurosaki said as he watched his own cock puylse and twitch. y/n hummed as he too began to undress his lower half, slipping ichigo's hard on between his ass.

"i cant take anymore of your games" ichigo growled as he then thrusted himself into his once rival, earning a loud moan from him. each thrust was ravenous, filled to the brim with both anger and frustration. "youre so tight.." kurosaki groaned, his hand intangled with y/n's hair strand then sharply pulled back, earning another ear piercing moan.

"yes..! just like that ichigo! fuck me harder!!" y/n screamed as he reached back to spread his ass more, helping ichigo's long and hard cock reach more places y/n didn't even think could be reached. both kurosaki's and y/n's loud and lustful noises could be heard throughout the entirety of the hallway.

"you never were actually after orihime were you.. fuck.. you were after me" ichigo said with a strained voice, his time was ticking and he knew it. y/n's obnoxiously loud noises never quieted down, instead, they grew louder, more hungry for action. "use me ichigo! use me as if im your sweet orihime! fuck my ass as if its her pussy!" y/n yelled on the top of his lungs, his body was becoming heavier and sweat drenched him entirely.

"im cumming..! goddamn your tight ass feels too good!" kurosaki exclaimed as his grip on y/n's hip grew tighter, and his hand incased in the locks of his rival began to waver in strength. "youre going to take my cum.. like the slut you are. do you hear me?" y/n eagerly nodded, feeling the knot in his own stomach begin to untie.

with a few more ass-reddening thrusts, ichigo's load quickly filled y/n's hole, traveling deep through his guts. as ichigo was dumping his cum into y/n's ass, the once smug and arrogant man was at his own witts end. spreading his own cum across the desk in front of him and crying out in pure bliss.

the two men stood in silence, the only thing heard being heavy breathing and the squelching of cum escaping y/n's ass. "dont think.. that im done with you yet y/n.. meet me at my house tonight, 10pm sharp.. got it?" ichigo said between huffs. "got it..!" y/n said with cheerfulness in his tone. he'd finally gotten what he was hoping more, good for him.

[moonstruckme]

hey ! by all means ignore or delete this if you're not comfortable with it, but could i request remus x fem reader where the reader has been SAd in the past and is mostly doing okay, but one time whilst kissing with remus she gets nervous ?? and remus is just sweet and comforting and trying to show reader they can trust him

again feel free to ignore because i know it could be a bit triggering but it's also nice to imagine a healing journey where you are safe with another person after all that :)

Thank you for requesting angel, hope you like it <3

cw: allusion to past SA, reader gets triggered, some semi-awkward but very loving conversation around that

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 988 words

You love Remus’ apartment. You love how quiet it is, how it always smells like books and fresh laundry and how there’s always at least one mug on the coffee table with the tea bag still sitting in it. You love the window by his kitchen table, and how he’ll sit with you there on rainy mornings and watch the people going by with their coats and umbrellas, and you love that he’s added another hook on the wall by the door, just next to his, for you to hang your key on when you come by. You love his wood floors, and the water pressure in his shower, and the sofa he got secondhand that’s more plush than any you’ve ever sat on. 

Remus’ miracle sofa is so comfortable it doesn’t even cause a twinge in your back when he leans you back against the armrest, throw pillow fallen to the floor, and kisses you so that you curve your neck forward to meet him. It’s soft enough to dip accommodatingly for the hand Remus slides underneath your lower back, pulling you up into him as he presses you down. Its velvety cover feels cozy and familiar beneath your fingers splayed across the cushion to steady yourself. 

All things considered, you’re too comfortable to account for the feeling that starts up in your chest. It could be Remus’ hand pressing surely into your back, or his tongue skimming across the inside of your lip, or merely the sound of your panting breaths, quick and overlapping in the quiet apartment. All you know is that it feels tight, and it doesn’t go away, inching upward until your heart is hammering in your throat, a blockage for any air you try to take in. 

Remus can tell something is wrong. He pauses just before you push him off, taking his hand from your back and pulling your mouth from his with an unsteady breath. Maybe it’s only you that’s really panting. 

“Alright?” Remus asks, soft but tense. He doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, I just—” You take a long inhale. It’s shallow and unsatisfying, but you feel better. “Sorry.” 

“That’s okay. Do you want me to move?” 

He starts to sit back, but you keep hold of his wrist. You don’t want him away from you. 

“No,” you say. “Sorry, it’s not you. I just started to freak out a little, I don’t know why. Sorry.” 

“Sweetheart.” Remus’ voice gentles. He knows about your history. It’s something you talked about early on, once you knew you could trust him but before you did anything more than hold hands. He’s always been exceedingly understanding about it. “You don’t need to be sorry. You’re fine. What can I do?” 

You take another breath. “I don’t think you need to do anything. I feel better now.” 

Remus nods. He looks cautious. “Was it something I did?” 

“I don’t know.” You fight the urge to apologize again, but you hope it shows in your expression. “I don’t think so.” 

“Okay, that’s alright.” Remus takes the hand that’s holding his wrist. He smooths his thumb across your palm, and you realize he’s not touching you anywhere else to avoid upsetting you. Your throat tightens. “Do you want to stop for now?” 

You shake your head. “I want to keep going.” 

“Are you sure? We could do something else.” 

“I’m sure,” you say. Grasp the sides of his sweater, pulling him closer. “I want to keep kissing you.” 

“Okay.” Remus’ lips quirk, and he grows a bit bolder, sliding his hand up the length of your arm to cup your cheek. “What would make you comfortable, lovely?” 

“I am comfortable with you,” you tell him earnestly. 

“I’m glad,” he says. “And I believe you, but that doesn’t mean that I’m okay with making you feel…with making you nervous like that. Even if it’s just for a second, yeah?” He strokes his thumb over your cheek. Heat flares in its path. “I have an idea.” 

You sit up a bit, eager. “What is it?” 

“What if, instead of me touching you, you put my hands where you want them? I’ll just leave them wherever you like, and if you start to get nervous again we’ll take a break.” His eyes flicker up to yours, cautious. “How does that sound?” 

“That sounds…” You chew your lip, stopping when Remus’ gaze drops to the motion. “That’s really sweet, Remus, but we can’t do that forever. It’s not fair to you.” 

He laughs. “Sweetheart, it’s more than fair to me. I get to kiss you. I get to be in the same room with you.” You grin bashfully at that, and his thumb dimples into your cheek, a fond pressure. “We could do it like that forever if you wanted, but we could also just take it one step at a time. Yeah? We’ll figure it out eventually, but this might be somewhere to start.” 

You nod, slowly. “Okay. That makes sense. Um…” You pick up his free hand tentatively, growing more confident when Remus squeezes your fingers. You place it on your side. His long fingers splay over your ribcage, kind and reassuring. “And this one,” you touch the wrist of the hand on your face, “you can leave here.” 

Remus’ smile reminds you of a sunrise, the way it blooms slowly, bringing color to his face and warmth to the room. “Yeah? Just like that?” 

“Yeah,” you echo. “That’s good, please.” 

“Oh, sweetheart, there’s no need to say please.” He dips down, pecking teasingly at your lower lip. “You know I’m happy if you’re happy. Let me know if you change your mind, alright?” 

“Mhm.” It’s all the response you can manage, your mind already lost to the feel of his lips on yours. 

“Mhm.” There’s laughter somewhere in Remus’ tone. He kisses you impossibly softer. “Just keep me in the loop.” 

[slafastri28]

I Hope You're Doing Well - LN4

Note: I literally pulled this out my ass, but it just flowed!

Word Count: 2.2k (yes that is a lot for me) Warnings: Idk a lot of kissing at the end, little angst

“Hi Lando, it’s Y/N, I hope you’re doing well, I figure you are considering you just won the constructors championship, call me when you want to catch up, I miss you, okay bye,” you hung up the phone. You turned to face your parents along with Lando’s,

“Sorry kid,” your dad said rubbing your shoulder. The four sat you down in the middle of the F1 season telling you their concerns for their son, complaining of being homesick and lonely, which was not Lando at all. You had known each other as long as you could remember. Your parents all went to university together and forced you and Lando into a friendship like parents do with kids. It was awkward at first, but you were very social as a child, and hanging out with a boy a year older than you was cool to you, and if it made your parents happy you would do it. Despite being a year older than you, you were always the same height as Lando growing up. You fit perfectly in his kart, but he never trusted you to drive it. He was always on about traveling in Formula 1 eventually, and he was fine his first couple years but this year was different. 

“It’s alright, I wasn’t expecting an answer,” you gave the parents a half smile. You and Lando had lost touch after the first race of the year, after spending all of the winter together something shifted, but you didn’t know what you did to make him ignore you. You called him at the first sign of concern from his parents, but no answer, his parents even urged him to call you but they were rarely hearing from him as it was. Little did they know he would sit listening to the messages you left all the time thinking about home and being with you. 

Last winter your parents threw a big party, all their friends were there and of course Lando. There was no one else really your age there so you two find yourselves alone in your childhood bedroom sitting and talking. 

“I’m confident this year, we will perform better I know it,” he nodded.

“Well of course you will, and you are going to get that win, I just know it,” you smiled. 

“Yeah I hope, thanks for the belief,” he said.

“What are friends for,” that word friends hit Lando hard. He thought he had made so obvious these past few years about how he felt about you, but he was only a friend to you. The rest of that winter he was not his usual self leaving you questioning, he barely even said goodbye before he left for testing. You sat alone in your apartment finding yourself wanting to pick up the phone and ask him what you did wrong but you accepted he needed space. You soon felt something was missing as he didn’t call you after every race like he did last year, you missed seeing his smile, which you always thought was cute. Now without his constant presence, you discovered your true feelings for Lando. You sent him messages getting responses two days later, he wouldn’t take any of your calls due to being busy, but it was the time you would normally call last year, and you knew what was different. You began to leave messages when his parents went to see him. Each message started and ended the same way. 

“Hi Lando, it’s Y/N, I hope you’re doing well,” and ended with “I miss you,” or something along those lines. After his first win, you called,

“Hi Lan, it’s me, I hope you’re doing well, and celebrating this win, I’m so proud of you, I wish I could have been there, I miss you.” Your calls continued after each win he earned this year, each podium, each race he scored points, even in his worst races you still left messages, none being answered or getting a callback, making you long for him more. The season came to a close and there you were surrounded by the people near and dear to him leaving the same message again.

This winter he had not come back to visit his family yet, meaning you didn’t have that chance to see him in your time off from work. There you sat around the most important people in your life, as one was missing, holding back tears. His mother rushed out of the room picking up her phone and scolding her son in a message. You went to bed that night looking through the scrapbooks your Moms made of the two of you when you were younger, pictures of you hugging, your arms wrapped around each other's shoulders, pictures of you forcing a smile onto his face and him doing the same to you, so many memories. The books continued as the years went on, you at age 15 with a sign at one of his races and him hugging you after, your high school graduation, your college graduation, he was always there. Now this winter here you were alone a year from that night wishing he would come home. 

You woke up the next morning with a voice message lighting up your phone. You were stunned to see the contact picture, you and Lando as little kids. You put in your headphones and hesitated before pressing play on the message.

“Hi Y/N, it’s Lando, I hope you’re doing well, I am doing well, thank you for all your congratulations, I’m sorry I’ve ignored you this season, I will tell you more when I get home tomorrow, I miss you too, see you probably a few hours after you listen to this,” his voice was sincere and you could hear little cracks knowing he was upset. You could feel your heart racing, your mind was spiraling, what could he possibly have to say to me? This is going to be so awkward. What do I even say to him? Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on your door. You quickly fixed your hair before pulling the blanket up over your pajamas hiding any possible embarrassment.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you heard your mom’s voice outside, “can I come in?” 

“Yes, come in,” you put the blanket down, “what is it?” Your Mom looked unusually happy for it being eight in the morning, she must have already had her coffee. 

“Lando’s flight arrives in an hour, and we are all going to surprise him at the airport, I know you’re upset with him, but please maybe it will change things,” her eyes were pleading, and after the message, you knew it would be the right thing to do. You hopped out of bed grabbing your morning coffee before changing. You conveniently lived close to the airport so an hour was plenty of time. As you stood with your two families in the terminal waiting you began to think again, you had seen him on social media, which was easier to bury your feelings, but in real life, you didn’t know what you would do. 

You watched the hallway, seeing several people go by, none were the faces you wanted to see. It had been a few more minutes since you were distracted by your phone, but you chose to look up at the perfect moment.

“Here he comes,” his mom exclaimed. You shoved your phone in your bag immediately, putting on a smile. He dropped his bag greeting first his parents, then your parents, and froze when he got to you. It was like time stopped, and no one else in the airport existed. He stretched out his arms as you rushed into them. He pulled you so close, you felt your feet lift off the ground.

“Oh Y/N, I’m so sorry, I’ve missed you so much,” he began to cry into you.

“Lando, Lando,” you sobbed feeling his warmth. The two of you pulled yourselves together as you made your way out to your cars.

“Why don’t you two ride together, you have some catching up to do,” his mom winked in your direction. The two of you did as you were told riding in the “kids' car” back to his parents’ home. You got home before them leaving you two some time after your silent car ride, both of you trying to keep it together. Once you got to their house, you made your way upstairs to his room. You watched him unpack his things before you noticed the stack of books next to the bed, the same ones you had looked at the night before. Something in your gut told you to open one, and it was right, it struck his attention.

“Wow look at us,” he said joining you sitting on his bed. 

“I know, we were so cute,” you laughed pointing at a picture of you two at Lando’s 9th birthday, you were blowing out his candle with him. 

“Still are,” he said softly, the look in his eyes showed he wanted to continue. You closed the book and took a good look at him, you saw pain in his body language, emotional pain. He was different than the Lando you saw the previous year. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” you said resting your hand on his shoulder, “what did I do,” you thought back to last year knowing exactly what hurt him. 

“Y/N, hand me the book,” he pointed to the one from your high school years. You handed him the book and he began to frantically flip through it, finding one specific picture. You stared at it, then at him with a faint smile on your lips. 

“The dance,” you nodded looking ashamed. 

“That’s when it started Y/N, and ever since then I have loved you, I thought I made it obvious, but you only saw me as a friend, I couldn’t take it anymore, I was hurt, and didn’t want to waste my time,” his eyes stayed locked on the book. 

“Lan, I feel the same, it took me not having you present constantly to finally realize I have loved you,” you smiled. His eyes picked up from the book,

“All those messages were cries for you to call me so we could have this conversation, I started to think you moved on after the constant lack of response,” you sighed.

“I should have answered all those calls, I should have called back, I should have said something-” you cut him off pressing a kiss to his lips. His hands quickly found your face as yours found his hair, running your fingers through his curls. You both gasped for air after that, your foreheads resting against each other’s. Your hands moved slowly from his hair to his hands which remained on your face. He let go interlocking his fingers with yours as your hands moved to your lap.

“This, this is how it was meant to be,” he smiled, before kissing you once more. 

“So should we tell our parents, who definitely have their suspicions already,” you laughed. 

“Not yet,” he said laying down in his bed and pulling you along with him. You two lay there your head on his chest with your hands locked over your heart. You were at full joy in the moment, a moment that you didn’t know you needed until now. You flipped over laying on top of him. 

“So despite my horrible dancing that night, that’s when you knew,” you laughed running your fingers through his hair again. 

“I wasn’t much better,” he laughed, “despite your clumsiness, you still were beautiful,” he said grinning. You pressed another kiss to his lips as his arms found your back pulling you in tighter. You two continued, intensifying the kiss as you both lay now on your sides. His lips moved from your face, down to your jaw and eventually reached your neck, letting you sigh.

“Kids dinner!” your mom called from outside the door. Lando continued moving back up to your lips. 

“Lan,” you repeated whispering, pushing him away, “come on,” you smiled. 

“Just a few more,” he begged.

“Later,” your eyes showed promise. You fixed your hair in his full-length mirror where he stood behind you wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“Come on,” you laughed opening the door. You two walked hand in hand downstairs meeting your families in the kitchen. They all turned to face the two of you standing there with intertwined fingers, both with red cheeks. The Dads gave nods of approval to Lando and the Moms squealed gesturing for you to both sit.

“Finally,” his mom clapped as you sat at the table.

“Come on give us a little kiss,” your mom added on. The Dads rolled their eyes but still watched. Lando pulled you in by your neck pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You heard your Dad’s whistle, you shot him a glare after the kiss ended. It was just like old times in the winter when you would have dinners, the conversation flowed naturally as you felt Lando’s smile beaming on his face. This was secretly what you always desired. 

[elysianightsss]

Hi Elysian! I love your Poly 141 x ND reader! Please please please write about how John is with her at work🥺🥹

Hi lovely! Thankyou so much🥹💓

John is oh so sweet with you, after hearing about you just from Johnny and Simon’s reports for a few months he couldn’t stand to just listen anymore. He had to be a part of your life.

Being your boss wasn’t exactly ideal and after promoting you twice because quite honestly he didn’t understand how you hadn’t been already, you worked harder than anyone at the company. He didn’t want people to think you only got the promotions because of any relationship with him, so he had to remain professional in order to keep your life easy.

But he managed to slip some moments with you in there. Usually when you stayed late to work, he would order food and the two of you would eat together. He would always find some way to make you laugh, even if it was with his dry sense of humour or his terrible dad jokes. It felt refreshing for you.

Bringing you in lunch everyday too after he noticed you work through lunchtime without eating. He couldn’t have that. John did try his hardest to be subtle but it was just so hard. Being around you was all he wanted to do, taking care of you was all he wanted to do.

You even noticed how affectionate he was with you, but you played it off. There’s no way your boss could like you right?

Right. But you liked John though. He was kind and made you laugh. He noticed when something was wrong and always tired to help. He was handsome and very well built. Those blue eyes that had you enraptured and those muttonchops you wanted to reach out and feel. You couldn’t help but imagine him in ways that had your thighs clenching just like when you saw Johnny and Simon kiss.

You felt terrible. How could you not? You liked three guys, two of which were in a relationship. What was your problem? Why did you feel this way. You suppose it was good that it was only three and nothing would ever happen with your neighbours or your boss. And no one else was part of the equation only your mind knew about.

But it was only three, you could get over your crushes. Right?

[mcytegg]

im ngl i feel like clowns current relationship w ros in realms is the type of relationship ls kab expected/wanted from clown. like they wanted clown to be someone they could rely on to always protect them and to stick by their side always, but i dont think this type was ever possible for the two of them, even if kab had succeeded in "proving" themself like clown said he wanted them to.

like even if we ignore that it was already incredibly unlikely given the nature of lifesteal and how clown could never trust anyone on ls wholly and completely knowing they COULD betray him and try to kill him at any moment, i actually think who kab is as a person is Why they never wouldve been able team w clown like they wanted to

not bc kab has specifically done anything wrong or done anything to make clown be against teaming w them, but bc kab lacks the distinct, very specific type of open and unashamed vulnerability people like branzy and ros exhibit both in general and w clown specifically that he seems drawn to. kab is too guarded and too tricky as a person to ever be vulnerable and openly reliant on clown in a way that makes him feel the Need to take care of nd protect them.

its not as if ros and branzy are incapable in the slightest; branzy is a cunning and surprisingly revenge driven guy and ros is incredibly smart and clearly WANTS to come out of her shell to fight for herself and for the people she holds dear, but w clown specifically they are so openly and easily vulnerable w him. they will go to him for protection and if they want to explore their own bloodlust, and they make clown feel needed and valued in an incredibly specific way. like theyre basically people he can save and protect in a way nobody else can bc he IS just the strongest, and nobody else can take care of them in the way he can bc of his strengeth and bc of the softness they show w him.

and kab is just...not that type of person. they could never be someone who leaves themself as openly vulnerable and reliant on clown in the way he needs to be needed for the relationship kab wanted w him. like kab is too scared and way too paranoid abt everything that could go wrong to put themself in a position like that. they lack the open softness and sorta "damsel" vibes that clown is drawn to in branzy and ros. the thing that makes him feel so strongly abt protecting them and taking care of them.

bc ultimately, kab is someone will fight and stop at nothing survive. there will never be a situation where theyd rely on clown to help or save them without any sort of other plan, so the fact that they would never need him in the way that makes him feel the most cared for and wanted means their relationship was never going to be what kab wanted it to be. and kab seems to have realized this, at least!!! that its smt they dont have w clown, but they can get something like what they need in mane bc he WILL protect them in the way they need but theres no rose tinted glasses for kab to view mane through so their relationship is, funnily enough, much more equal than kabs relationship w clown ever was due to the way they idolized him

[hhoneylemon]

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩

dick grayson x hero!reader

summary: dick temporarily loses his hearing after a patrol

genre: fluff/slight comfort

word count: 1.2k

it was all a blur.

one moment, you’re fighting beside him. the next, he’s alone and blinking himself awake. he faintly remembers getting hit in the back of the head so hard that he could taste the color yellow.

dick doesn’t hear them. he can sense them, however, thanks to all those years in the gig. he turns as the thugs approach, sending a kick to the stomach of the closest thug, waiting to see who else would charge at him.

he doesn’t have to wait long. he wastes no time in beating a few of them with his escrima sticks, breathing hard when he sends another to the ground with a kick. his lungs and throat hurts. he can’t hear his breaths.

after punching the final thug a few times, he finally remembers he wasn’t here alone. a feeling of dread settles in his gut. he opens his mouth, roughly demanding where you are. he doesn’t hear himself, nor the reply as the thugs mouth moves. he curses himself internally; hearing loss. a possible sign of a concussion.

he drags himself out of the general area of the warehouse, searching separate rooms. he deals with the few thugs he comes across, but there are no signs of you. he’s beginning to panic. swiftly incapacitating people turns into bashing peoples heads into walls and floors. he’s more rough than he should be, less careful than he knows you’d wish he was.

upon finally emerging from the warehouse, he’s shown signs of your existence. there are a few thugs scattered about, already dealt with. he darts around in the shadows, being careful while also looking for you.

he almost screams for joy when he sees you in a small battle with someone. he’s immediately by your side, helping defeat a few other thugs who looked like they were about to gang up on you. you give him a quick ‘hey!’ as you punch the next thug, though you’re confused when dick didn’t reply to your greeting like he usually would.

the moment everyone else is dealt with, his arms are around you and the side of his face is pressed against yours. he lets out a shuddery breath and you make a noise of confusion.

“d? babe, you okay?”

he can feel your jaw move, but he can’t hear you. he lets out a noise of frustration, pulling away. there’s a look of despair on his face. you frown, cupping his chin with a hand.

“what’s wrong?”

his eyebrows furrow. what did you say? he shakes his head and points to his ear.

“i can’t hear.”

you tilt your head, giving a ‘huh?’ he breathes deeply, tilting his head to kiss your thumb.

“my hearing’s gone. i got hit in the head.”

you make a sound of understanding, then nod when you register the situation. you give him another hug, squeezing him. he quickly hugs back, gulping nervously. if he never hears your voice again, he’ll be gravely upset.

taking his hand, you begin leading him to the street. you can walk home, for all you care. or find a building with a fire escape you can climb to hop from rooftop to rooftop, either is fine. a kiss is pressed to dick’s cheek as you walk.

the usual chatter that’s shared after a patrol or mission is gone, bringing a sense of melancholy. all you have to comfort you is dick’s spandex-covered hand, which squeezes yours and makes sure you don’t have more than a few inches between each other. there are people in the streets of blüdhaven that pause and take photos of the cities defenders, though you’re left alone.

you find a building with a fire escape, pulling your boyfriend to the alleyway. he lets you climb first, following swiftly after you. together, the two of you run and leap from roof to roof until you make it to your apartment complex. he drops to the fire escape stairs and you follow him until reaching your window. breaking into your own apartment, you both climb into the bedroom.

you both strip and change into sleepwear; he grabs his tank top and sweatpants, stretching his arms. turning, he’s surprised to see you already on the bed. he didn’t hear the creak of the bed springs. oh yeah.

dick climbs onto the bed with you, settling onto his knees and cupping your cheek before kissing you softly. you place a hand on his thigh, sighing softly. he flutters his eyes at you and you frown.

“you’re so pretty.”

he gives you a look of confusion. you smile.

the two of you climb under the sheets together. he drapes himself atop of you, pressing his face against your chest. his arms wrap around your midsection, your own loosely wrapping around his waist. you peck the crown of his head.

“love you, dick. goodnight.”

he says nothing, though you didn’t necessarily expect him to. you stay awake a bit longer than normal, a sense of worry nestled in your mind, though exhaustion knocks you out regardless. dick takes much longer than usual; he’s used to sleeping to your heartbeat or your breathing, maybe the sounds of cars and such interrupting. absolute silence is frightening to him.

when dick awakes in the morning, he’s on his back with his arms flung at his sides. the room is illuminated by sunlight, the bed cold from the lack of his partners body. he groans, rolling over to hide his face in his pillow.

he heard the creaking of the bed springs.

he’s up within seconds, running down the small hallway to the kitchen. he finds you pouring a mug of coffee. he can hear the small hums that escape you, the sound of the coffee splashing into the mug.

as you put the coffee pot back into the machine, dick’s on you. he turns you, picks you up and spins you, places you back on the ground and attacks your face with kisses.

“good morning to you too.”

you smile, your arms wrapping around his neck. a sound that could be mistaken for a sob escapes your boyfriend.

“your voice is the sweetest sound on earth, babe. i, oh gosh, i love you.”

you laugh as he kisses your forehead, your cheeks, then captures your lips. his lips move desperately, as if he’d also regained his sense of touch. you smile, reaching a hand up into his hair and getting tangled in a few curls.

“well, i love you too. could i have my coffee now?”

he reluctantly releases you, watching you move with a small smile on his face. the moment you turn back towards him with your mug, he’s back to you. he gives you space to move your arm so that you can take a sip, though his hands find your hips and give them gentle squeezes.

you’d be annoyed that you weren’t able to sit if his face weren’t so pretty. a light smile carved with his lips, pretty blue eyes framed by long eyelashes, tan skin highlighted by the rays of sun that managed to leak through the kitchen curtains. with a sigh, you lean in to kiss his lips. he happily kisses back. you lean back and give him a teasing smile.

“have you even said good morning to haley yet?”

dick’s face drops. he immediately spins and skids to the living room a few feet away.

“my baby!”

you chuckle to yourself, watching as he drops to the floor in front of her. he’s such a dork.

masterlist

[revelboo]

Ouch! Prowl asking about his human’s life before and immediately getting denied an answer. That’s rough, buddy. 🙂‍↕️

Yeah, he’s not going to take it well, either

Stand Too Close Pt 12

Prowl x Reader

• Catching your wrists, he pins them over your head and shifts over you. Pulling his head up to break the kiss and sees you scowl. Understands that you don’t think he deserves to know you, that he’s not worth it. And why shouldn’t you keep hating him, he hates himself most of the time. But it still hurts. “Is this all you want?” He growls, voice frustrated as you wriggle against his grip, eyes narrowing. “To be fragged?” Just his spike and body, nothing more?

• Like he deserves anything more from you? Especially right now. Everything was good, but no, he had to pretend he cares. Or maybe he felt bad about screwing someone he barely knows. “Not anymore. Get your hands off me.” Furious, you roll away from him as soon as he lets go of you. But there’s nowhere to storm off to. Trapped and at his mercy. Stomping as far away as you can, you start getting dressed. Seeing him mass displace, right his panels and just leave. And abruptly you want to cry even though you’re more angry than anything else. Why couldn’t he have just let it be? It’s not like he actually cares about you, so why ask except to hurt you?

• Pacing in the hall, he tries to calm down. Because right now? He wants to destroy something. That look on your face when he’d asked about your life, the way you’d just shut down so suddenly, bothers him. Going from smiling and joking with him to furious all because he’d wanted to know you. Not just your body. But maybe that is all you want from him. For a moment, he’d thought maybe you could talk to him. Open up. Of course not. In your head, he’s still the enemy, isn’t he? The bot who ruined your life.

• Sitting with your legs drawn up, you glare at the closed door. Wondering how long he’ll sulk this time. Something’s very wrong with you for enjoying that temper of his. Most of the time. It’s bad enough to be kept here against your will, but to have him ask those questions? Like he was trying to figure out what he was taking away from you. And it’s none of his business. You’re not together, not really. Hell, the only thing either of you have in common is liking angry sex. That’s definitely not a relationship. You’re just stuck with each other. That’s all. “Bastard,” you mutter, looping your arms around your legs.

• Spark aching as his back hits the wall, it occurs to him that sooner or later, he’s going to have to face you. Almost wishes he’d pushed. Made you tell him, but then you’d have resented him even more. Just wants to know you. Because when you smile at him, it spreads warm through him, leaving him oddly light. All his worries and his stress momentarily gone. Wants you to smile for him, to laugh. Be happy to see him. Wants more than just the feel your body under his. Wants to know you. All of you, the good and bad.

Previous

[fluentmoviequoter]

Being Replaced

The Bradfords Series Masterlist (5/?)

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!cop!reader

Summary: During your yearly physical, your doctor brings up a surprising series of questions. You take several tests, and as you continue policing, you forget to tell Tim about what you're waiting to find out. When Lucy overhears your conversation, she wants to know everything.

Warnings: discussions of pregnancy/menstrual cycles + symptoms, fluff, brief angst, banter, protective!Tim

Word Count: 3.0k+ words

Tim sighs when Lucy slows on their way to the shop.

“What are you looking for?” he inquires.

“Mom,” she answers. “Where is she? I didn’t see her during roll call.”

“She’ll be here later. Let’s go, boot.”

“Why isn’t she here now?”

“Why are you still asking questions instead of getting in the shop?” Tim counters, his patience wearing thin. “Now, Chen.”

Lucy looks around once more, then leads Tim to the garage. As she sits in the passenger seat, she considers texting you. She notices Tim’s relaxed grip on the steering wheel and decides that you must be okay. If there was something wrong, Tim would show it even if he denied it. When you get to work later today, Lucy will ask you herself.

“The guy that robbed my apartment is going to trial this week,” Lucy says. “Prosecutor said he has over a dozen people testifying.”

Tim shakes his head slightly and raises his fingers from the steering wheel. “Why do I need to know that?”

“It’s called sharing. When two people care about each other-“

“Stop.”

“But, I-“

“Stop.”

Tim looks at Lucy as dispatch alerts them of a nearby call, and she changes the subject to focus on the matter at hand.

While Tim and Lucy deescalate a fight at a high-end cookware store and take details from the employees about the preceding robbery, you flip through a magazine. Stopping at a page with a ‘Couple Compatibility Test,’ you roll your eyes. The magazines in the waiting room are well over a decade old, yet you read the first question and smile. You and Tim would undoubtedly fail one of these tests, but you’ve already proved to be great together. A few pages later, someone calls your name, and you abandon the magazine to follow a nurse’s assistant into the heart of the doctor’s office.

You get weighed, your height is checked, and then you sit patiently as your temperature, pulse, oxygen levels, and blood pressure are measured. After thanking the assistant, you sit alone on the examination table to wait for the doctor. Nothing is wrong; you’re just here for a yearly check-up and physical, yet you’re hit suddenly by a feeling that something unexpected is coming.

“Whoa, this is nice!” Lucy exclaims as she runs her fingers over the lid of a Dutch oven.

“It’s one of our best sellers,” an employee interjects. “Luckily this stuff is heavy so the thief couldn’t have gotten away with much.”

Tim ignores their conversation to look around the store. By the seasonal sale display at the front, he looks out the window and sighs. “They could if they had a vehicle parked outside.”

“What?” Lucy asks, moving toward Tim. “How did they do that without opening the door more than once? This is a state-of-the-art security system.”

“Is that what they said?” he asks quietly. “The sensor on this door can be tricked with a magnet. That’s why the alarm wasn’t responded to, I’d guess. Short enough disruption that the dispatchers figured it was a false alarm.”

“Officers?” the second (and more helpful) employee calls. “I have a list of the missing items.”

Tim takes the printed sheet of paper and reads the first few items before looking to the bottom. “15 items worth $4,000. Is that before tax?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Is that important?” Lucy asks.

“Only if they try to resell it.” He turns to the employees to explain that several detectives are on their way and will have many of the same questions and need the same list.

“Call if you need anything else,” Lucy urges them, leaving her card on the counter.

Tim stops outside the door and looks at the tire marks on the concrete. He straightens and follows them until they lighten and disappear around a corner.

“The merchandise was transferred somewhere near here, or to a larger vehicle. Whatever cart they had all that stuff in to begin with was weighed down,” Tim tells Lucy. “Let the detectives know.”

“Overall, you’re very healthy,” your doctor says after her exam. “There are a few questions I’d like to ask. Have you noticed any swelling or bloating in your abdomen?”

“A bit,” you admit.

“Missing or late periods?”

“I’m about a week and a half late. It’s happened before, my gyno said it was nothing to worry about.”

“Okay. And, last one, have you experienced any nausea or vomiting? Especially any occurring around the same time as the swelling?”

“There have been a few mornings I’ve been really nauseous, but I haven’t actually gotten sick.”

She nods as she jots a few notes on her tablet. After a moment, she asks, “Are you going to work today?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m supposed to be there in about twenty minutes actually.”

Setting the tablet aside, she leans forward and rests her elbows on her legs. “I want to run a pregnancy test. I’m not thoroughly convinced you are or even could be pregnant, but I’m also not willing to say you’re completely in line with last year’s physical based on some of those symptoms. Unfortunately, we can’t get it all done before you need to leave.”

“I…” You trail off, trying to process what she’s telling you. You don’t feel pregnant, but now that you think about the swelling, the nausea, and the other changes you’ve experienced, you don’t know what to think. “Could I call later to get the results?”

“That is an excellent idea.” She calls a nurse into the room and instructs her to prepare a pregnancy test. “I’m going to give you my cell number,” she tells you. “Whenever you have time, whether it’s today, tonight, or tomorrow, give me a call and I’ll go over the results with you. When’s the last time you ate or drank?”

“About eight hours ago because my shifts were oddly spaced this week,” you remember.

“In that case, I’d like to run a blood test to check your hormone levels as well. We’ll get you out of here in less than ten minutes. Do you have any other questions for me?”

“No. Thank you,” you reply.

In the empty room, you stare at the wall and try to think but don’t come up with anything before the nurse returns to give you directions.

“What’s up with your boot?” Angela asks, sitting across from Tim at their favorite food truck. Tim mumbles an answer, to which she raises her brows.

“She misses my wife,” Tim says. “Has been asking about her all day.”

“Where is she?” Angela inquires.

Tim groans, but he’s saved by Lucy yelling your name. Tim looks up, but you’re locked in conversation with Bishop. She lays her hand on your upper arm, and after a moment, you smile and nod. She walks past you and toward her shop as you move farther into the circle of food trucks.

“Hello,” you greet as you approach your fellow officers. “Nolan, you’re with me for the rest of shift.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies.

“I think you and Bishop planned this,” Angela muses.

“We absolutely did,” you answer with a smile. “Her appointment got changed last week.”

“Appointment for what?” Lucy asks.

“Yearly physical. We got them on the same day in year one, so we tend to go around the same time every year.”

“Oh, that’s where you’ve been. Dad wouldn’t tell me.”

“Dad?” Angela repeats with a brow raised.

“It’s because they argue like parents,” Jackson explains. Tim turns to glare at him, so Jackson raises his hands and defends, “We all know it; don’t shoot the messenger.”

“You let your boot call you Dad, Timothy?”

Tim turns his glare to you, but his brows drop momentarily. He can read you well – too well. You send him a small smile to communicate that you’re okay. Tim is your husband and is possibly going to become a father soon, so you need to tell him. But something makes you pause.

“She’s persistent,” you answer for Tim. “And he cares.”

“He loves me,” Lucy agrees.

Tim pulls his eyes from you but can’t berate Lucy before a speeding car drives by with several people screaming in the trunk. Everyone at the table jumps up and runs to their respective shop. You completely forget that you may be carrying precious cargo.

“Where’s Officer Bradford?” Tim asks Nolan as he and Lucy enter the station.

Nolan points to a nearby hallway, and Lucy begins talking to him about the car chase. Tim follows Nolan’s direction to find you. He slows when he hears your voice, then stops.

“Hi,” you greet before saying your name and providing your phone number. “Sorry for calling late, but I had some time and wanted to ask about the results of the pregnancy and blood tests. If you can give me a call back when you have some time, I’d appreciate it. Thank you.”

You turn, then freeze at the sight of a wide-eyed Tim Bradford. Your mouth opens, but words fail you.

“I should have told you,” you begin.

“You’re pregnant?” he exclaims, finally moving closer to you.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t- but you could be?”

“Well, I didn’t think so, but then the doctor started asking all of these questions and I answered them and apparently that made her think I could be. Honestly, Tim, if I thought I was, you would’ve been the first person I talked to, you know that.”

“Why’d you get a blood test?” he asks.

“Hormone levels.”

Tim nods, then takes your hand. “Do you want to be pregnant?”

“I want to have kids with you, someday, but… Don’t you think I would have felt something? If I’m pregnant and had no idea, what kind of mother would I be?”

Tim presses his lips together, then says, “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

His lips quirk up at the corners, and you laugh. Falling forward against his chest, you complain, “And you’re the expert on human reproduction.”

“I’m getting pretty good at understanding you, I think.”

“Bradford!” Wade calls. He sees your hand slide off of Tim’s waist, and though he can’t see you, adds, “And Bradford, Metro got ambushed looking for your thief from this morning. We need you in the bullpen. Now.”

“You can sit this one out,” Tim says softly.

You shake your head and say, “I’m not leaving. We- when we find out, we’ll go from there.”

Tim hesitates, then nods and follows you to the bullpen.

Tim hovers. Since you started dating, you have known that he’s protective, caring, and doting when no one is looking, but this is different. Even the mere idea that you could be carrying his baby makes him move closer to you. He keeps his arm within inches of you, and his hand seems to be halfway to your stomach. As you receive instructions for extracting the Metro team, you struggle to keep your attention off of Tim and how much you love him.

“Officer Bradford,” Wade says. “Bradfords, actually, I want you two guarding the southern exit. This warehouse is laid out in a split-level configuration, so the only door on the south side has a second-floor exit. Metal grate stairs lead up to the door, and that’s where we need your cover.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply.

Tim glances at you, then nods. He doesn’t want you working this specific job, you’re sure, but an entire team of your friends, your brothers, and sisters in arms, are in danger; you’re not going to leave them there for a restless night of sleep, not knowing if you’re pregnant or not while Tim puts himself in danger.

You glance at the wire hanging from the earpiece tucked carefully into your ear. With your hair pulled out of its usual hairstyle and secured away from your face and off your neck, you resist the urge to fan yourself. Los Angeles isn’t always hot like some people think, but it’s a warm night, and the disturbing heat radiating from the metal wall beside you has the potential to make you miserable.

“Watch your step,” Tim requests quietly.

You slow several steps from the second-floor door and glance over your shoulder. “The landing isn’t big enough for one of us to stand and the door to open.”

Tim moves to the step behind you, his chest pressed against your back as he looks at the top of the stairs. “If someone walks out, grab the closest body part and throw them.”

“Where?” you ask, your brows raised dramatically.

“Over the rail, down to me, I don’t care, but don’t give them time to grab you or raise a weapon.”

“Is this how Lucy feels all the time?” you muse, turning to face the building.

“Car approaching from the west,” Angela alerts in your earpiece.

“Thermal scans show at least a dozen people inside,” a SWAT officer announces. “Two are moving south.”

“Be careful,” Tim tells you as you move your foot to the top step.

The door opens, and you grab the unsuspecting man’s arm and pull forward, twisting your hips as he trips down the steps. He extends his arms to catch his fall, and his gun slips through the grate before his wrists shatter on impact. His strangled scream of pain is silenced when his face meets the metal step beneath him. Unconscious, he slides down a step and stops at Tim’s feet.

Tim looks at him, then back up at you. He raises a finger to remind you that there’s one more. Watching the door, you see it begin to open before it clicks closed again. You wrap your fingers around the handle while Tim handcuffs the unconscious gunman behind you. Pulling the door open, you don’t hear Tim’s warning hiss.

There’s no one inside, so you let the door close again. Less than thirty seconds later, the door opens again, but you’re too close, and only an arm exits. You’re pulled inside as Tim moves his hands up the rails. The door locks behind you, but Tim jumps over the man on the stairs and radios to alert other officers of your entry. Kneeling on the top step, he shoots up through the lock to ensure he can’t accidentally hit you if you’re still standing by the door, then rushes in, his gun raised.

Simultaneously, three different SWAT teams enter the warehouse and begin yelling demands. Tim lowers his gun and looks at you, standing above the man who pulled you inside.

“I told you to stay back from the door,” Tim says.

“Well, I couldn’t pull him through a half-closed door, could I?” you counter.

Tim sighs, then pulls you against his chest and hugs you tightly. It’s quick, and he steps back before you can get your hands around his waist. As officers rush up the stairs to assist you, someone alerts you that there’s one missing suspect.

“My car’s close,” Tim tells you. “Let’s go find this guy and go home.”

Tim’s plan to get home quickly doesn’t work, and the sun is rising over Los Angeles when you finally hear that the last suspect has been taken into custody. Dropping your head back against the headrest, you sigh. A moment later, your phone rings.

“It’s the doctor,” you tell Tim.

He pulls over in an industrial area and shifts into Park. You tap your screen to answer the call and put the phone on speaker before you greet your doctor.

“Good morning, I hope I didn’t wake you,” she says.

“No, ma’am, you didn’t,” you assure her.

“Alright, well, first, sorry I missed your call last night. And, most importantly, I have your tests back. The short answer is that you are not pregnant.”

Tim takes your hand, and you squeeze his fingers.

“In my opinion, you’re experiencing a pseudopregnancy,” she explains. “Following your most recent ovulation, your prolactin levels remained elevated while your progesterone took a dramatic dip. I’d also guess that some of the emotional difficulties of your jobs played a role in causing the false pregnancy. That combination of psychological and hormonal factors likely contributed to your symptoms. Based on the blood tests, your hormone levels should regulate soon, and I’d recommend you take it easy and eat well, get good rest, and assist your hormones in balancing however you can.”

“Will do, doctor,” you reply. “Thank you.”

After you end the call, Tim brushes his thumb against your hand and waits until you turn in your seat.

“Are you disappointed?” he asks.

“No,” you confess. “I don’t think I’m really anything. I was so confused and taken back by everything she said that I didn’t really think about it either way.”

“When or if you are ready for that test to be positive, I’ll be right here,” Tim promises.

His phone rings, and he rolls his eyes before he says, “Yes, Chen?”

“Hey, Lucy!” you add.

“Oh, good, I need to talk to both of you,” she says. “Tim, can you help me get reservations for Friday night?”

“Do you think I’m your assistant, Chen?” he barks into the phone.

“Is that a no?”

Tim doesn’t answer, so you ask, “Another date with Alex?”

“Yes!” Lucy exclaims. “But I need a new outfit, which is what I wanted to ask you about.”

“We can go shopping tomorrow after end of shift if you want.”

“I do! And if you can change Dad’s mind, I’ll bake you cookies.”

“Don’t bribe my wife,” Tim interrupts.

He taps his phone screen and sighs. You laugh as he steers the car back onto the road and drives toward the station to get his truck.

“She’s more work than a baby would be,” Tim complains.

“Does that mean you’re going to help her?”

“Not until I get some time with you that she doesn’t interrupt.”

“Yet you answered her phone call without hesitation,” you muse.

“And you hid your pregnancy from your husband.”

Tim’s phone lights up, displaying that his call from Lucy is still connected. She yells, “What?!” so loudly that Tim swerves, and you begin laughing as he tries to explain.

“You’re not being replaced?” he repeats. “Chen, what is wrong with you?”

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 9 part 6

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

billy drives to westview again, I guess flying right now feels weird while he's so conflicted about his own witchy nature. and who boarded up agatha's door? were the neighbors afraid some other unspeakable horror was going to jump out of the house?

we get another good view of agatha's grave, with all the purple flowers and mushrooms rio grew for her

agnes' bike and señor scratchy's cage (I hope that fluffer bunny's okay somewhere)

NOT HELPING, AGATHA. did she just run down to the basement so she could do her 'it's britney bitch' face? (she does look like britney here)

sure, sure, you'll get your brooch back and then you'll be on your merry way doing ghostly shit with no regrets whatsoever. it's not like you've been following billy around like a lost puppy or anything

agatha sees billy drawing the circle and is all posture again, a big slice of "I'm cooler than you and you don't scare me little kid" with a side of "ooooh are we doing magic?? I love magic lemme see lemme see!"

she's truly embarrassing

you're the one with a buttload of black candles in your basement agatha who do you think you're mocking

a pentacle, the symbol of our coven surrounding him. wherever you are, a coven there shall be.

oooh book through the heart! we get it, symbolism.

agatha sees the brooch and gives a deep relieved sigh, immediately followed by more bullshit. JUST TELL HIM THAT'S YOUR SON'S BROOCH AND IT'S IMPORTANT, YOU USELESS DISASTER. JUST OPEN UP FOR ONCE.

the spell is vade (not valia) a lucem, relinque terram, noli esse phantasma. go to the light, leave the earth, don't be a ghost (bit on the nose.)

what's wrong agatha, not feeling so confident all of a sudden?

you know the drill by now, she won't go quietly. so she sneers.

ooh we're appealing to his better nature now? after your many 'never apologize for murder' lessons?

idk man, it's almost as if the people you keep pushing away will eventually get tired of your bullshit. it's almost as if billy here, the kid you supposedly care a lot about, just went through a terrible experience and could really need a wise mentor right now - instead of whatever you're doing.

and now we're begging. better make a decision there agatha, you're starting to fade away!

sure, that will help. great plan agatha, masterful gambit, turning into a ghost and losing even more of your agency

there you go. it only took this poor wretch nine episodes, killing three people, scaring away forever the love of her life, thoroughly traumatizing a kid and somehow losing her entire body to express ONE honest, uncensored feeling.

it's the little steps.

heartwarming: local 350 year old experiences for the first time the mortifying ordeal of being known.

another thing billy and agatha have in common is how good they are at reading people. with billy it's a natural talent (comes with being a mind reader) that he's still learning how to use, he can read people but doesn't know how to interpret what he finds yet, hence the whole trials fiasco.

with agatha, he's been trying to reconcile his instincts with facts and logic. on a surface level he shouldn't trust agatha at all, indeed she's the last person anyone should trust. but since he was that kid who liked hanging out at agnes' house, billy guessed something else in agatha, a vulnerability behind all the darkness that he's been (awkwardly) trying to bring to the surface.

why? I think it's for the same reason agatha has been reaching out to him: because they're so similar. billy wants to reconcile agatha's two natures because he wants to do the same for himself. he is the son of the witch who tortured westview, he has all this scary power. there is a darkness in him that he doesn't know how to deal with, but maybe, if agatha is redeemed, there is hope for himself too.

in other words, these two are kindred spirits (spiritual mother/son, mentor/mentee, whatever you want to call it) who recognize each other and instinctively want to stick to together, even though it's a bad, bad idea.

(I cannot believe it took agatha turning into a ghost to finally get a manicure for her nasty witchy nails)

and this is all it took to win billy over, that's how ready and eager he was to believe agatha has a heart! the moment he realizes that of course agatha loved nicholas! of course she's devastated after losing him! he steps back and dries a tear, moved. for the first time he sees agatha's pain and, the good kid he is, he's earnest to give her sympathy and comfort. he's still too young to fully understand what agatha has been trough, but he doesn't need to. he just needs to care and be there for her, and that's enough, that makes all the difference.

the salemites taught agatha that she cannot trust others, that if she shows who she really is people will hate her and hurt her. when nicky died she tried all she could to exorcise that devastating pain, except asking for help. she never allowed someone to give her even the most basic forms of comfort, no hugs, no crying on someone's shoulder, no 'I'm sorry this happened to you'. no 'I'm here for you, if you need anything'. no 'I know it feels like that, but I promise it wasn't your fault.'

agatha set out to mold and raise billy as another version of herself, but what she got instead is a kid who, just like nicky, is simply glad to love her back. yes, people will leave you if you keep pushing them away, but the opposite is also true: if you stick by and make an effort, no matter how many mistakes you make, most people will recognize what you're doing and respond in kind. it sucks that agatha can do that so rarely and with so much difficulty. but it happens sometimes, even to her.

I've talked about how a "coven two" is never sustainable on the long run, how you cannot just have one person be your whole world. humans, social animals we are, simply need a community. but for now it's a start, it's agatha cautiously letting herself be around another person again. and oh god she's going to be such a bad influence on this poor kid. I'm glad *he* has other people in his life, at least.

she's like, faIR WArNiNG

ookay drama llama. these two gays, I swear. already trying to outdrama each other.

she's all proud!! look at her boy paying homage to the dead and expressing his grief like a champ! meanwhile I'm sitting here like guys, guys, you cannot just write their names on the floor and call it a day, have you CHECKED if you have to break the news to their loved ones?! did sharon have children? did alice have friends or a partner that are looking for her right now?!?!!?!?! please make ONE phone call I beg you! is there an ADULTIER ADULT in the room, you CANNOT LEAVE THESE TWO IN CHARGE

and off they go, merrily causing chaos and mayhem. if I had to guess what happens next, agatha is going to love and help and teach that kid while making soooo many mistakes and causing soooo much emotional damage, and also very much try to manipulate him into giving her a new body, because lbr, this asshole didn't get herself close to the one person on earth who can do that by pure accident. all immaturity and ulterior motives aside, agatha is taking baby steps in the right direction and I'm SEATED for it.

AND WE'RE DONE. I cannot believe I got to the end of this?!!?! thank you from the bottom of my black heart to all the peeps who reached out and encouraged me, thank you for all your likes and reblogs and engagement, and special thanks to @idkbroletssee, @yodladi-yodlada, @aquaaquila, @onceuponalegendbg, @vinspiration-book, @sallysetonagathario, @2-the-moon-and-2-saturn, @yourlocalegotisticalqueerishere, @isagrimorie, @jojobobapalooza, @netellie, @nutella-icecream, @talysalankil, @ragnarockz, @misschanandlerbong25, @westviews-nosiest, @liminal-smith, @kendrysaneela, @whogirl42, @witchtwig, @nerdybeachbum299, @bogcrowe, @the-silence-in-between, @farminglesbian, @lazyreinelle @fantasticvoidnerdshoe, @ofutopia, I'm sure I'm forgetting many but I promise I see you all!

Last but not least, big, grateful thanks to @crybabyheathen for always messaging me and forcing me out of my shell and encouraging much needed human interaction 😉. And lots of love to @april-december, don't tell anyone but I look forward to your comments the most, it truly means the world that you appreciate and engage with my posts like you've been doing.

Happy new year, everybody!

[megahologram]

Unspoken truths | Rafe Cameron

part 2 coming soon

summary: when the reader is in love with JJ, interactions with a certain blue-eyed boy cause a change in the atmosphere

warnings: strong language

word count: 3.6k

You sat quietly on the hardened porch of the chateau, your eyes fixed on the flickering campfire in the distance. Your friends laughed and called out to one another by the shore, their silhouettes dancing in the firelight. But you seemed lost in your own world, your thoughts as vast and deep as the ocean. The cool evening breeze ruffled your hair as the waves crashed softly in the background, a gentle rhythm that matched the introspection in your gaze. It was a moment of solitude amid the chaos, a quiet pause under the shade of starlit skies.

Your eyes were fixed on his, watching his every move, the way he rushes his hands along his hair, messing it up in a way that makes her cheeks burn a slight shade of pink. The way he lifts the joint to his lips, the way he holds the can of beer and takes long chugs from it. Suddenly you watch as he sits on the hammock with her, pulling her in for a short gentle kiss on the cheek as he molts himself into her. They both laughed, cuddling and talking as their smiles went to their eyes. You patted at the empty porch step beside you, looking for the lost beer can as your eyes remained glued to them. Suddenly, you hear a slight cough, startled, you quickly divert your gaze away from JJ and Kie to the blonde girl behind you. She had two beers in her hand, her beautiful wavy hair flowing along the slight breeze and a sly smile on her face.

"Sorry to interrupt," she teased quietly, moving slowly to sit beside you on the porch, nudging your beer can aside to make room.

You remained silent, unsure how to respond, unsure of how much she had seen or how much you were willing to share in this moment.

She didn’t miss the way your eyebrows furrowed, noticing the deep thought in your eyes. You hated how easily she could read you—like your mind was an open book.

"How long have you known...?" she asked softly, her voice quiet but direct.

You turned your head, utterly confused, unsure of what she meant. Then she clarified, her voice barely above a whisper.

"...How long have you known that you love JJ?"

Your breath caught in your throat, your eyes widening. It was as if the world around you slowed, the weight of her words hanging in the air. You glanced around—toward the firepit, then behind you to the empty house—making sure no one else was close. You turned back to Sarah, your voice barely audible.

"What are you talking about? I don’t like JJ like that."

Sarah rolled her eyes, unfazed. "Come on, Y/N, I've known you longer than anyone here. It's so obvious."

You stared at her, then back at JJ and Kie, still lounging in the hammock. Were you really that obvious? Who else knew?

"Don’t worry," Sarah continued, sensing your panic. "No one else knows. But you need to be more careful. It could’ve been John B or Pope who saw you staring at them like that."

You sighed, frustration building. Why did she always seem to read your mind so easily? You couldn’t help but smile wryly. "It’s getting kind of scary how you can read my mind like that, Sarah."

You both laughed softly, taking a swig from your beers. Then, the words slipped out before you could stop them.

"I’m a horrible person, aren’t I?"

Sarah’s eyes widened, her surprise evident. "No, why would you say that?"

"Only an asshole like me would fall for their best friend’s boyfriend," you muttered.

She shook her head, her voice firm. "You’ve known JJ longer than John B or Kie. You’re not a horrible person for having feelings, Y/N."

You closed your eyes, the familiar ache in your chest growing stronger. The pain never went away, not when you saw them together, laughing, happy. You told yourself you were wrong, that you couldn’t feel this way about JJ. Kie was your best friend, and you wanted nothing more than for her and JJ to be happy. But the pain—God, the pain was unbearable.

You felt Sarah shift in her seat, then pull you into a hug. You hadn’t realized you were crying until the tears fell onto her shirt.

"You won’t tell anyone, right?" you whispered, wiping the tears from your face.

"I’ll take it to my grave," she whispered back, holding you tightly.

_

The next morning, you found yourself standing on Ward Cameron’s boat, scrubbing away the remnants of the obvious party from the night before. Sarah had always hated the idea of you working for her dad, but Ward had a soft spot for you. He’d even offered you money more than once without expecting any work in return. Still, you were raised better than to accept handouts, no matter how tempting or how much you needed it. After plenty of back-and-forth with Sarah, you all agreed on a compromise: you would clean the Camerons’ fleet of boats for some extra cash. You didn’t need the money often, but once a week, you were happy to show up, put in the work, and feel proud of earning something that helped your family.

Your back was turned to the door, headphones in your ears blasting music, drowning out the faint creak of the floorboards behind you. Focused on picking up the last bits of trash, you moved methodically, unaware of the tall figure standing in the doorway. His shadow stretched across the floor, but you didn’t notice, too engrossed in your task. His dark eyes followed your every move, scanning you intently as he stepped forward with measured, deliberate strides. The sound of your own breathing and the faint hum of the music filled the air as he crept closer. Just as he reached the edge of the room, you spun around, instinctively gripping the broomstick like a weapon. With your heart pounding and adrenaline surging, you lunged toward the mysterious figure, ready to defend yourself against the unexpected intruder.

His hands grip the stick tightly, his eyes locked onto yours as he pulls it away from you aggressively, slamming it onto the floor. The loud bang makes you flinch, your gaze briefly shifting to the broom on the ground before returning to his piercing blue eyes.

Anger surges inside you, and without thinking, you shove his chest hard, making him step back slightly. "What the hell is wrong with you, Rafe? Who sneaks up on someone like that?"

He’s quick to grab your hands, stopping your movements. "It’s my fucking boat, I can do whatever I want," he says, his tone unnervingly calm compared to your harsh one. The calmness throws you off, leaving you confused.

You pull your hands away from his grasp, rolling your eyes. "Whatever," you mutter, grabbing the broom again and getting back to work.

A few minutes pass, and when you glance up, he’s still standing there, watching you. He hasn’t moved since your last confrontation, and the growing tension in the air only adds to your confusion.

Breaking the awkward silence, you mock him with a quiet tone, "Are you here to watch me sweep? Gonna point out every speck of dust I miss?"

He rolls his eyes this time, crossing his arms. "I couldn’t care less about that shit. I need your help with something."

You can’t help but laugh. "No, Rafe, I’m not jacking you off."

His expression hardens. "I’d rather die than have a pogue do that shit to me."

You smirk, rolling your eyes again. "How can a pogue like me possibly help the great Rafe Cameron?" Your mocking tone is enough to visibly annoy him, and you enjoy the sight.

"I need some coke." His voice drops to a quiet, careful whisper, and you notice him glancing around to make sure no one is near.

You raise an eyebrow, the amusement still in your smile as you open the mini fridge in the corner, grab a can, and toss it to him. "Why didn’t you just ask? Didn’t have to sneak up on me for that."

His grip tightens around the can, his hand forming a fist as he nearly crushes it. "Y/N, I don’t have time for these games. I’ve heard you on the phone with Sarah. You were talking about getting her some. I need to know if you can get me some."

You sigh, trying to stay calm despite the growing tension. "Listen, Rafe, even if I can, what makes you think I’m gonna help you?"

He’s quick to counter, his voice almost desperate. "I’ll pay you double. You won’t even have to work this job anymore."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Wow, you Cameron’s really think money buys everything, huh?"

Before you can say anything else, Rafe moves toward you in a flash. His hands land on your neck, and in an instant, your back hits the wall hard, the jolt of pain making you wince. His grip isn’t tight enough to choke you, but it holds you firmly in place.

You should feel scared, threatened, but the reality is, if he wanted to hurt you, he’d be choking you right now. Instead, you smirk, your words slow but steady. "You should be a little nicer to the person who could be your dealer, don’t you think?"

His hands slowly loosen, falling to his sides as his body stays pressed against yours. You watch his face carefully—he looks confused, almost as if he’s trying to figure out why you’re not scared of him.

"Fine," you finally say, while he takes a step back. "I’ll do it." you add, running a hand over your neck. "Just curious, though... why me?"

You watch him carefully, but his only response is to step back, his tone growing more serious. "Just know that no one, and I mean no one, can know about this. Especially not Sarah."

You nod, a knowing smile on your face as you turn back to your work. "Fine. Come by the beach tomorrow at sunset."

As he moves to leave, he suddenly stops, his voice cold. "He’s in jail."

You turn around, confused, about to ask when he adds, "...my dealer’s in jail."

-

Sitting by the shore, you watch the waves roll in, their rhythmic crash against the sand creating a soothing melody. The salty breeze brushes against your skin, carrying with it the faint scent of seaweed. Your fingers idly trace patterns in the cool sand as you lose yourself in the endless horizon, where the sky melts into the ocean in a dance of blues and silvers.

You’ve been sitting there for half an hour now, wondering if Rafe was just playing a joke on you. Why would Rafe Cameron come to you, of all people?

Suddenly, you hear light footsteps in the sand. You exhale a breath and stand up quickly, turning around. Your words spill out before you even see who it is. "You're half an hour late, Cameron. You better pay triple for th—" The rest of your sentence dies in your throat as your heart skips a beat.

Your eyes meet the familiar face of the blonde boy you’ve known all your life. You freeze, and your friends start making their way towards you, filling in the scene.

JJ looks at you, confusion furrowing his brows. “Cameron?” he asks, his tone filled with uncertainty. “Triple?” he repeats, his expression turning even more puzzled. “You waiting for Sarah, Y/N?”

You feel your eyes widen in panic, the pressure mounting in your chest. The whole group is now watching you, Sarah included, heading toward you. "Um... I-I thought you were Sarah," you stammer, cursing yourself inwardly. Smooth, Y/N, you think.

"Since when do you call Sarah by her last name?" JJ presses.

Fuck, why does he know me so well?

“Since forever, JJ,” Sarah chimes in, stepping in to smooth things over. “Now stop interrogating her.”

You mentally thank Sarah, who always had your back, no questions asked.

JJ watches you for a moment longer, as if trying to read the situation, but you force yourself to remain calm. Just when the awkward silence starts to eat at you, Kie saves the moment. “Come on, guys, we came here to get wasted!”

Everyone cheers and rushes to find a spot, the tension momentarily breaking.

As you walk, your phone buzzes in your back pocket. You pull it out quickly and check the message from Rafe.

Rafe: Thought I told you to keep this between us.

Y/N: What are you on about?

Rafe: Why the hell are all your pogue friends here?

Your breath catches in your throat, and you glance around quickly. The beach is almost empty except for your group, but then you spot Rafe’s jeep in the distance, parked out of view.

“What are you looking for?”

You jump at Sarah’s voice, immediately stuffing your phone back into your pocket. “Nothing. I just got a text from my mom. She wants me to help her with some chores around the house.”

“Are you serious? Just tell her you're with me. She loves me,” Sarah teases, giving you an easy out.

Your shoulders relax with relief, and you smile at her. “I know, but I haven’t helped her out in a while. I think I’m just gonna head home.”

Sarah’s smile fades a little, understanding your need to go. “Alright. You want one of the guys to drop you off? I can ask J—”

“NO!” The word escapes a little too quickly, and Sarah’s smirk is evident even in the night sky. “I mean... it’s alright. My place isn’t far, and I could use the exercise.”

Your phone buzzes again, but you don’t check it. You quickly send Rafe a text without reading his reply.

Y/N: Give me 5, I’m coming.

Sarah doesn’t question your odd behavior, assuming it's just about your mom needing you home.

“You ladies coming?” John B calls from a distance.

“Sorry, guys, I gotta go home. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you shout back, waving. You give Sarah a quick hug, promising to see her soon.

You start heading toward the parking lot, but then you hear footsteps behind you, the sound of heavy breathing. Your eyes widen when you spot Rafe’s jeep in the distance. You don’t want anyone to see him just yet, so you quickly turn around with a smile, finding JJ right behind you.

“Hey, JJ! What’s up?” you say, trying to distract him from what’s really going on.

He slows down, panting slightly from catching up with you. “You okay, Y/N?” His voice is full of concern, his expression worried.

“I’m fine. Why?”

“You’ve been acting weird lately,” JJ says, sadness creeping into his voice. “You don’t even come by anymore.”

The guilt hits you like a wave, and you feel your chest tighten as his words settle in. You hate seeing that look on his face, but the last thing you want is for him to get caught up in your mess.

“I’m sorry, JJ. I just have a lot going on,” you say coolly, forcing yourself to sound indifferent, even though the pain is bubbling beneath the surface. You know the only way to deal with this is to push him away, to stop these feelings before they spiral any further.

“But Y/N, I—”

“J, seriously, just stop, okay? Leave me be.” Your tone is sharper than you intend, but you can’t help it. You need him to back off.

He takes the hint. You watch as his face falls, disappointment and confusion mixing as he stares at you for a long moment. Without another word, he turns and walks back toward the others.

Sorry, JJ.

Once you knew he was at a distance, you quickly turned and made your way towards Rafe’s car.

You walked to the passenger side, placing your hand on the door handle. You yanked it open, but it wouldn’t budge. You tried again, frustration rising in your chest. The car was running, the music blasting from inside.

You knocked on the window, and after a few moments, Rafe slowly rolled it down. His blue eyes met yours, and for a long, uncomfortable moment, you just stared at each other.

“Just give me the shit and leave,” he muttered, raising his hands in exasperation, his eyes rolling.

You crossed your arms, annoyed. “I just left my friends for you. The least you can do is drop me home.”

Rafe laughed loudly, the sound sharp and almost out of place. It was the first time you’d ever heard him laugh, and it caught you off guard. “Not happening, sweetheart.”

His response only made your irritation grow. You had left your friends behind for him, and yet he was acting like you owed him something. But then again, this was Rafe Cameron. What else did you expect?

You smirked, leaning slightly closer to the window, your words dripping with sarcasm. “You ought to be nicer to your dealer, don’t you think?”

His face hardened, and you saw the annoyance flash in his eyes. His grip on the steering wheel tightened so hard his knuckles turned white.

“Fine, get in,” he snapped, his teeth gritted.

You couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. You opened the door and hopped into the passenger seat, feeling a small sense of victory.

As Rafe drove off, you prepared yourself for the usual chaos, but you were surprised to find something different. His car was spotless.

The backseat was empty, no crumpled paper or discarded wrappers, no signs of the chaos you had come to expect from someone like Rafe. Even the floor mats were pristine, free of dirt or sand. When you leaned in, the sharp, fresh scent of new leather hit you—something you had never imagined for his car. It was clean, almost too clean. As if, for once, he had actually made an effort to get his act together.

His eyes remained on the road, but you noticed the way he glanced at you, following your gaze around the interior of the car. “We won’t be using the back seat, even though I know you’re dying for it,” he teased, his tone lazy.

You rolled your eyes, the sarcasm clear in your voice. “I’d rather die than have a kook do that shit to me.”

You noticed the way his smirk widened, clearly amused by your mimicked words.

“So you and Maybank a thing or something?” His voice was casual, but there was an edge to it, as though he was trying to hide something. “I saw him running after you like a desp—”

“He’s with kie,” you interjected quickly, cutting him off before he could say anything more. You pointed to the right, guiding him to make a turn. Without argument, he complied.

The car sank into an uncomfortable silence, the kind that made you regret even asking for a ride. Your gaze drifted toward the window, searching for anything to distract you from the tension—trees, houses, anything that could pull you away from the suffocating awkwardness.

Rafe’s eyes landed on you, though you didn’t notice. He watched the way you nervously bit your nails, the subtle tension in your shoulders. His gaze followed the breeze that tugged at your hair, ruffling it just enough to catch his attention. His eyes dropped lower, briefly lingering on the tooth necklace you wore—the same one he’d seen on Maybank. Then his focus shifted to your waist, where the slight glint of a belly piercing caught his eye. His gaze continued down to the arrow tattoo peeking out from beneath the hem of your shorts.

Finally, his eyes returned to your face. Your cheeks were faintly pink, your dark eyes long and unreadable, your lips tinted with a hint of gloss. You were beautiful, he thought

It was as if you could feel his gaze. Slowly, you turned your head, meeting his eyes. His blue gaze held yours, intense and unblinking. A shiver ran down your spine. Maybe it was because you’d caught him staring, or maybe it was the way he was looking at you—it made your nerves flare up, a familiar, uncomfortable feeling you’d only experienced once before from a certain untouchable boy.

“You should keep your eyes on the road,” you murmured, your voice soft, as if there were people listening in the car.

“I’d rather keep my eyes on you,” he replied, his voice suddenly deeper, almost unrecognizable.

The shock was mutual. You both froze, as if the words had slipped out before he could stop them. His face quickly shifted, clearly regretting his honesty, and he turned his attention back to the road, clearly uncomfortable with what had just been said.

You shook yourself out of the moment, realizing that you had just passed your house. “You just passed my house,” you said, pointing to the side of the road.

Rafe cursed under his breath, the disappointment clear in his voice. “Oh.”

Before you could respond, his tone shifted again, cold and demanding. “Can I have my shit now?”

You quickly dug through your pocket and handed him the package. He grabbed it without a second glance, reaching into the center compartment and tossing an envelope at you. “That’s yours.”

You opened the door and got out, rolling your eyes at his sudden change in attitude. As you walked away, you heard the car start up again, the engine roaring to life as he drove off.

Rafe let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He didn’t understand the shift in his behavior, the strange feeling he couldn’t shake. He had never acted like this before, and it made him uneasy. So, he decided then and there not to make any more conversation with you. The last thing he wanted was to admit how messed up he felt after spending time with you.

[typicalopposite]

we almost had it all

rated T | Trigger warnings: mpreg, blood, miscarriage

Based on this post

Tommy turns the little stick over and over in one hand while he holds the box up close to his face with the other. Damn tiny print… he thinks, still having to squint just to read it. Place a few drops on the test. A few drops?! Who has that kind of control… “Oh…” he says aloud, his voice echoing off the walls of the store’s bathroom— he was so anxious he just went straight there from the register. 

He stares at the little guide doodle showing the mock tester using the syringe— that he didn’t realize was still in the box— to draw up a sample from a cup— that was definitely not in the box— and the syringe is used to manage the few drops. But he has no cup… and he is due at work in less than half an hour.

A lot more might be due if his suspicions are correct. 

He groans and unfastens his pants.

Definitely more than a few drops later and he is pacing the small space of the accessible stall bathroom, the test is face down on the floor in the farthest corner from him, while his phone ticks down three minutes. Please be negative, please be negative, please be negative… he silently chants, knowing good and god damn well it won’t be. 

The timer goes off…

He sulks over to the corner and picks up the test…

He flips it over…

He sees the two blue lines…

He barely makes it back over to the toilet to puke… 

*

Working the few shifts after that… was awkward. 

Or should he say coming up with every excuse to not do much work without letting Lucy and the rest of his team know he was on light duty… was awkward. His captain knew and that was all. So he made sure he was man behind for every call, under the weather for any heavy duty in-house work, and just claimed seniority for anything else that he deemed might be too strenuous for him. 

He just wanted to tell Ev- Buck… first. 

There had never been a doubt in his mind Buck would know about the baby. He just had to wait until they were both free, and by some miracle their calendar’s were still linked together on his phone… so he could see when they would both be off work. Not that having a clear visual on the day he was going to face the man he is madly in love with… but broke up with (because he is likely clinically insane) and broke both their hearts in the process… could really be considered a miracle; more like karma. Karma on him for putting them in the situation that this discussion would be anything less than an overly joyful celebration in the first place. 

Buck was going to be joyful, regardless. Tommy knew that. The man loved children, and talked about having his own someday often. He was going to be thrilled. Hell… after the initial shock, so was Tommy. They were adults… they could act like it and figure out how to raise this kid together.

*

It’s the last shift before Tommy’s 48 off and Buck was already 24 into his. 

The call came in right when the crew was about to call it a day and start getting ready to leave. Two-vehicle collision at the intersection of Victory Boulevard and Lindley Avenue. A semi and a firetruck. Truck driver was stable and three of the firefighters inside were injured but stable; one was in critical condition, requiring immediate air support. 

Please don’t be them, please don’t be them, please don’t be them…

Perhaps it was wrong for Tommy to hold his breath and hope it was any other station. It’s not like his hope helped much anyway. “This is Captain Bobby Nash…” the tired, and stressed sounding, familiar voice came across the radio. “We need an ETA on air support, Firefighter Buckley has fallen unconscious. We need to get him medical assistance fast.” 

Tommy’s entire world seems to start moving in slow motion, while he watches stuck on autopilot and can't do anything. He is off the couch and ignoring his captain’s concerned voice when he asks what he thought he was doing. Tommy would have liked to see him stop him from getting in that helicopter with Lucy. 

He climbs into the cockpit, and pulls his headphones on, letting them know they’re on their way. 

*

“Are you okay…” Lucy has asked a dozen times, when she’s not overly insisting Buck is going to be okay. The bird is high enough in the sky that it makes it easy to control, so Tommy assumes her questioning is due to his death grip being so tight on the controls that his knuckles are turning white. 

“M’fine…” Tommy says, with his jaw clenched so tight he might be cracking his molars. 

The truth? He’s not fine. Not just because he is flying into the unknown in regards to Buck’s fate and that scares the hell out of him… But also— he’s not fine because the moment he heard the distress call over the radio, his stomach twisted into the most intense knot he’s ever experienced and never let up.  

Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay… he repeats in his head the entire flight, and it holds two meanings. He listens as Bobby updates them on Buck’s condition— which is not looking good— and in return urgently asks their ETA. “F- Five minutes…” Tommy manages, trying his damndest to sound calm and professional, knowing he’s probably failing miserably. 

His stomach twists and cramps, and he grits his teeth trying to ignore it. Then he feels it. A small gush of warmth between his legs… and he just knows. 

He navigates the rest of the way, trying to not visually react to what is happening… They arrive at the accident, Buck is loaded into the helicopter, and Tommy lifts them back into the air. He doesn’t say a word, but he listens as Harbor’s medics work on his— fuck… he’s back to just being his ex again, it seems. Nothing tying them together now… 

He blinks back against the tears threatening to spill and thinks… At least everyone will just assume he’s crying over Buck— which he is… of course— and not because he just lost the little piece of Buck he had thought he’d actually get to keep. 

*

“Tommy…” Lucy tries again, and he sharply jerks when she lays a hand on his arm. They have been landed on the hospital’s helipad for a while now… Buck has long since been taken from the helicopter and whisked off through the double doors. “Hey… what’s— what’s going on?” Her brows are pulled so tight together they’re nearly touching; she looks so worried, and he can’t blame her… He’s sure he’s acting incredibly off. 

“You’re gonna have to fly her back,” he eventually says, his voice hoarse and small, and her confusion only seems to grow. “I— I need to go inside…” She doesn’t question, just gives a quick nod, reaching over to squeeze his arm. 

He opens his door and unhooks his seat and climbs out of his seat and Lucy all but screams, causing him to turn back towards her. He sees the culprit for her reactions is the blood he left behind on the seat and he stares at it for a moment. 

“Oh that’s  b- because—” His voice seizes upon his throat and tears begin to build in his eyes… and they are alone out here anyway, why hold them back now. “—because I just lost our baby…” He can’t break his eyes away from the blood stain. He doesn’t even register when it clicks with Lucy what he means and she turns the helicopter off and rushes out and around to him. She catches him just as his knees finally give out, and he cries in her arms until staff come out to check on them, ushering him inside to be treated while Lucy explains the tragedy within a tragedy that has happened. 

(Part Two Coming Soon)

[soobnara]

like clockwork / c.sb

soobin x reader

summary: in a world where love is given an expiration date, you find your forever home in an unexpected place.

word count: 10.1k

tags: soulmate!au, best friends to lovers, mostly romance + fluff, fake dating if you squint, reader is afab w/ gender neutral pronouns + fem terms (noona) used

author's note: finally got around to finishing this... it's been a long while coming and i couldn't get myself to write for various reasons and i'm so happy it's all done and out there! (also for any black mirror fans out there, yes this is loosely based on the 'hang the dj' episode but way more lighthearted and with a dash of soulmate brainrot) hope you enjoy and wishing everyone a wonderful holiday season <3

For as long as Soobin can remember, he’s been counting down the days. 

To summer vacation, to the end of his shift at his part time job, to the start of a long awaited trip, to anything. But there’s something else that counts down on his behalf, something that he doesn’t particularly want to count.

That something is inlaid in a nondescript watch wrapped around his wrist. Everyone gets one once they turn 18, and as far as he’s concerned, its only purpose is to ruin relationships. The cruel hands of time assign a “best by” date to each romantic encounter, flashing on the screen from the first meeting, with each failure promising to lead the user closer and closer to their fated lover. If you ask Soobin, it’s all bullshit. How would a stupid watch know anything about fate, anyways?

It’s a typical Thursday night, and Soobin’s mindlessly scrolling through Time to Love, the government mandated dating app that all phones come with, as per usual when he can’t decide on something to watch. He has yet to meet the weekly two date quota, having only gone on one on Tuesday (important to note that he’s already forgotten his name), and he’s running out of time, and he really can’t afford to pay that 100,000 won fine this week. Well, he can’t afford to pay it at any point in time, but this week’s been especially rough on him, and he doesn’t want to shell out any more of his meager savings just because he couldn’t get a date, of all things. 

The names and faces on his phone screen are a blur as his thumb swipes left aimlessly– he doesn’t really give that much of a shit who he ends up with, because at the end of the day, he’ll say “No” when the app asks him if he’d liked them and give them a terrible review saying they were incompatible, because frankly, the algorithm seems to always be wrong when it comes to his matches. Either that, or it’s because he cares so little that he doesn’t bother properly vetting his matches.

He’s resigned himself to his fate anyways; he’ll fill up his progress bar with a bunch of shitty matches until the algorithm decides it’s time for him to settle down, then when he finds his “soulmate” (if you could even call it that), he’ll just be doomed to a loveless arranged marriage set in place by a computer and die unhappy. He can’t envision happiness ever coming out of something so lifeless, so cold, so that’s just how it has to be. At least it gives him something to do instead of rewatching the same three anime series over and over again.

Whatever– he’ll just swipe right on the next person and go on yet another unmemorable date tomorrow. Lee Saerom, the profile reads. She’s exceptionally pretty, he has to admit, and she’s an artist, (and she’s older, but don’t ask him about that) so he’ll just ask her about her work and let her ramble for the allotted two hours while he smiles and nods.

He swipes right, and a bright pink heart pattern fills his screen, signifying a successful match. Obnoxious. It’s replaced with a time and a place, and he lets out a groan. Congratulations! Your date is scheduled for 6pm, at the Coffee Shop. He was supposed to meet you at 7 tomorrow for your usual Friday night updates. 

Fuck. What if the date goes on longer than an hour?

He’s never been late for your weekly meetups, but he figures you’ll understand, since it’s completely out of his control.

Surely you won’t kill him, right?

Just in case, he recites a prayer to himself before he tucks in for the night.

You’re already nursing your third vodka soda of the night and Soobin is still nowhere to be found, which is unusual. He’s never been the most punctual person, but standing you up for an hour after your usual meeting time isn’t like him, either. He said he’d be late, but he didn’t specify how late… you’ll grill him later when he explains himself, and you’ll make him buy you a drink or two as compensation. With the comfort of a free drink in mind, you’re about to order your fourth round when Soobin finally stumbles in through the door of the bar, eyes scanning each booth until his gaze lands on you, and with an apologetic smile, he’s sliding into the seat across from you. 

He gestures to your glass, brow curled upwards, which you know means he’s teasing you. “What number is this one, noona? You always polish these things off like they’re nothing.”

“This is number three, with number four on the way, and that’s because they are. You owe me at least two for taking so long to get here, asshole.” You let out an indignant huff as you slurp the last of the cocktail through your straw, lips jutting in a comical pout.

“Okay, okay. Next one’s on me.” Soobin relents with an endeared laugh, waving down the waitstaff and ordering a beer for himself, along with another vodka soda for you. 

“Okay, now spill.”

“What? Am I supposed to have some hot gossip for you? Don’t make me guess about what drama I’ve somehow found myself in on accident.” He’s visibly confused, brows knitted together, and you roll your eyes at him.

“Obviously the only reason you would ever skip out on your dear noona was if TTL scheduled you for a date during our usual time, so spill. How bad was this one?” 

His lips part in understanding, (you can practically see the figurative lightbulb flickering on) head bobbing in an exaggerated nod before pulling his phone out, hand outstretched to show you his date’s profile. “I mean, she was okay, I guess. Pretty girl, and she was older, but she spent the entirety of our time slot babbling about her latest art project and how it’s supposedly going to blow away the industry. Which is fine, I guess, because you know I hate talking on these dates, but if she said “brush technique” and “negative space” one more time I think I would’ve tried to drown myself in my caffe mocha. The app thought so too, I guess, because when we checked our expiration date, it was exactly an hour from the start time, so it’s not like I missed out on my forever soulmate or whatever.”

Each TTL date is scheduled for an arbitrary amount of time, depending on your expiration date, which is determined from the first moment you meet– sometimes it’s just a few minutes, an hour or two, and anything longer than 24 hours is given a two hour time slot maximum. There’s supposedly an extremely rare case where you aren’t given an expiration date from the get go, regardless of your progress, meaning that you’ve found your soulmate by sheer luck, but it’s almost unheard of– most people don’t find their soulmates until they’ve completely filled up their bars, something about needing ample data to calculate optimal compatibility.

You ogle at his phone screen for a bit– she really was stunning– then guffaw at the thought of Soobin nodding halfheartedly, listening to a pretty girl talk his ear off, when most men would probably kill to be in his position. “Damn, if even an older woman that pretty can’t hold your attention, and the app confirms that, you know it’s bad… So, where does that put your progress at? Weren’t you at like, 80% last week?”

Soobin’s face practically scrunches in on itself at your remark, tapping the app once more to check his updated progress bar. “I’m going to ignore that. I’m at… 88% after I reviewed Saerom and that guy from earlier in the week. Guess it wasn’t a total waste if I got 8% closer to completion. What are you at now?”

You lift your phone to open TTL, your progress bar only having inched 2% closer to completion after your date yesterday. “75% now. I think the algorithm is personally fucking me over, or something. My last few matches have been nice enough, but I cannot keep up with their energy. It’s wringing me dry. I must be the only person in the entire world who doesn’t want a golden retriever for a partner. My date yesterday just about knocked me out for good, he was that energetic.”

“Tell me about it,” Soobin commiserates. “I’ve very clearly expressed my distaste for bubbly and talkative people who probably peaked in high school, but that’s all they’re spitting out in my for you page. No offense to them, I don’t think I’ve met any straight up assholes since that one girl back in June, but it’s like the app is purposely recommending the most incompatible people to me– wait, yesterday? And I didn’t hear about this?”

You give him a pointed look, silently conveying that he also didn’t inform you of his date today until ten minutes ago. He gets the message and holds his hands up in defeat, then gestures for you to speak, dimples peeking out as he purses his lips. You sigh, rubbing your temples as you recall the most chaotic two hours of the week, maybe even your life.

“Okay, look… for the record, he was very nice to me, a perfect gentleman, but my god, could that guy talk. He was practically falling at his knees trying to impress me, which would’ve earned him a few points in my book, but his mouth was moving maybe five miles a minute at all times without a moment of rest. It was like watching a child hopped up on sugar, to be honest. He talked for forty whole minutes nonstop about pizza. Don’t even get me started on how passionate he was about his workout routine.”

Your drinks finally come around, and Soobin hands you your frosted glass, which you gratefully take a long sip out of before continuing. “And before you say anything, no, he was nothing like Kai. Also, Kai is literally like my child, and just because I babysat him all those years does not mean I want to date someone like him.”

Soobin parts his lips to respond, then scrunches his nose in distaste as you take the words right of his mouth, opting to down his drink instead. “You’re no fun.”

“But that’s why you love me, right?”

“Sure, noona, sure.”

“That’s it, asshole, you owe me another drink.”

Sunday rolls around, which means you’ve got to start scoping out this week’s dates– you hate leaving anything to the last minute, and you like to leave the end of your week as free as possible (no one is prying your precious rest time from you, not even a beautiful person with the world’s best personality). 

Which means you’re mindlessly swiping through a sea of profiles, hoping you find someone that’s at least remotely interesting. You’re prepared for a long night of doom scrolling, but you stop cold in your tracks as you come across a familiar name and face, and a lump forms in your throat.

Choi Soobin.

The algorithm is really fucking with you now. It has to be. You’ve never once even considered your best friend as a potential suitor, not because he isn’t insanely attractive and charming (and funny, and easy to talk to, and…), but because he’s your best friend. You’ve known him for so long, you’ve seen him cry when he couldn’t get the Pokemon card he wanted when he was young enough to need allowance to buy it, and he’s seen you for long enough to know you threw the nastiest toddler tantrums over being denied an ice cream purchase– the point is that you know him a little too well, and you know from experience that that’s not always ideal in romance. 

But you have been having terrible luck with your matches for so long, and two hours of Soobin’s undivided attention doesn’t seem so bad, and it would be a good time, at least…

You kick yourself mentally for even thinking of it. He’s your best friend, for god’s sake.

Yet your thumb continues to hover over his profile, quivering as you make the motion to swipe right on him without touching the screen. The guilt and the risk of maybe ruining your friendship forever clearly isn’t enough to stop you from considering him. 

The gentle, familiar smile that he’s sporting in his profile picture pierces your heart, and you’re not sure why. Maybe you’ve always had a thing for him unconsciously, maybe you just want someone who actually gets you, maybe you’re just running out of options. Or maybe you’re just tired of chasing after something you know is futile, and you want to take a chance on something, on someone, that might actually be good for you. On someone that you know would be good to you, and for you.

And so, with bated breath, you swipe right.

[Time to Love: Y/N has liked you! Open the app for more details.]

To say Soobin is struck with disbelief would be an understatement. He’s practically gaping at his phone, and he knows you’d be laughing your ass off and making fun of him if you could see him. But it’s precisely that typical flippant attitude of yours that’s got him perplexed about this development.

He’d be lying if he said he’s never once thought of you that way– he’s always thought you were pretty and kind hearted, despite your temper, and you’ve always been there for him, through thick and thin, even when he was being kind of a dick. That definitely counts for something. But he’s never thought about crossing that boundary, because 1) he’s not allowed to pursue anyone he doesn’t match with through the app anyways, and 2) matching with you could make or break your bond forever (he’s leaning towards break, though, because like he said, the watch is bullshit). In short, he’s a fucking coward and a little too cynical for his own good. 

But here it is, an opportunity for a date with you, in all its glory, and initiated by you, no less. He should be celebrating, or at least hyped up, because maybe it’ll all work out, maybe this is the solution to all his lukewarm matches over the last few months, but instead he’s downright terrified. There’s absolutely no way that you both come out of this unscathed. There’s no such thing as a perfect forever if it’s decided by a computer. There can’t possibly be a happy ending at the end of this road.

He shakes his head, as if it would clear his head of the panicked thoughts. You’re still his best friend, at the end of the day, he tells himself, and he’s sure that you’ll fight just as hard as he will to keep him in your life. So he holds onto the tiniest sliver of hope that somehow your relationship doesn’t crash and burn spectacularly, opens the app, and swipes right on you.

Congratulations! Your date is scheduled for 3pm, at the Aquarium. 

A new notification pops up. Soobin’s heart stirs.

y/n noona: see you tomorrow ♥️

He feels guilty as a wave of excitement washes over him. He shouldn’t be feeling like this. You’re his best friend. His dear noona. He may as well be signing away your friendship for good. But it’d be worse if he didn’t match your enthusiasm.

soob: yup, see you tomorrow noona :]

It’s only 5 minutes past the scheduled meeting time, and already Soobin’s panicking that you’ve changed your mind and cancelled on him, writing this off as a mistake. He’s trying his very best to remain nonchalant, it’s just a date with his best friend, who he might have a sapling of a crush on, no big deal, right? Or maybe it is for the best if you cancel, then he’d have one less crippling fear to worry about.

He’s rethinking his outfit for the umpteenth time– he didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard, not in front of you because you’d probably think it was silly, but he also doesn’t want you thinking he shows up to dates looking like a slob. (For the record, he thinks he’s got a decent sense of fashion. He’s better than Kai, at least, though that isn’t saying much.) He’s internally debating if he should’ve gone with the navy polo shirt instead of the grey cardigan draped over his shoulders, or if he should’ve gone with the black slacks instead of the light wash jeans, but his jumbled thoughts dissipate as you tap on his shoulder, shit-eating grin and all. 

“What’s with you, Soob? You look like the fate of the universe depends on you, and you only have 5 minutes to save all of humanity.” You tease, nudging your shoulder against his. Oh, if only you knew what was really weighing on him.

He has half a mind to swat your shoulder, but he’s a little too aware that the two of you are supposed to be on a date, so instead he shoves his hands into his pockets. To his surprise, you’re more dressed up than usual, (he’s used to seeing you exclusively in oversized hoodies) and– wait, you two are practically matching, from the grey cardigan, light wash jeans, all the way down to the white sneakers. The only difference is that you’ve buttoned up your cardigan so that it functions more as a blouse, but you two clearly have definitely mastered the art of accidental couple looks.

“Okay, awkward… one of us has to change.” He teases in an attempt to ease his own racing mind, dimples peeking out as he stifles a laugh. You let out an indignant huff, pushing his massive frame with no success. He doesn’t even budge.

“Not my fault that you’re trying to steal my look. I wore it better, by the way,” You retort, but truth be told, you’re reeling at the sight of him. You’ve only ever seen him in his stuffy work attire and the worn-out, faded shirts he refuses to throw out, and seeing him in a comparably softer, more preppy look is making you see him with new eyes.

You shake your head, as if doing so will reset your perspective to factory settings and make you see him as just your best friend again. (spoiler alert: it doesn’t. Soobin is still handsome and he looks very cute, and you’re still very much affected by it.) “Okay, so. First things first. Should we check our apps? To see if, like, we’re compatible, or I don’t know.” Your voice is stiff, like you’re buffering, and you don’t think you’ve ever been this awkward around Soobin, at least not since the day you met.

Soobin turns up his nose in disagreement and covers his watch screen and yours. “Nah, that’s bullshit. It’s already all decided, isn’t it? It’s been decided from the second we stepped into the aquarium. No point in checking now, we should decide for ourselves if this is something we want to pursue, instead of letting some computer dictate that. When it’s over, it’s over, and we can just go back to being friends, right?”

“Well, I think it’s probably better to know when to give this a rest, instead of constantly wondering if my best friend is set to be my long-term romantic partner, or whatever.” You had a point. But a part of Soobin didn’t feel ready to face the fact that you might not want to see him again like this. A much smaller part of him is still fearful that you two might not be able to turn back from this.

“Okay, okay, fine. We can check it–but not now. If we make it to a third date, then we can check how long we have. But you have to be honest and not touch it whatsoever.” Soobin doesn’t make any move to mention that he isn’t interested in seeing you again, but you don’t want to just assume that he’s into you, so you test the waters.

“Okay, I promise to be honest. But why the third date? Are you really that keen on seeing me?” You’re trying to be teasing, but you feel more desperate than anything.

Soobin doesn’t answer for a moment, and you think that you’ve said the wrong thing. Just as you’re about to apologize, he replies, “If we make it to a third date… then I’ll know whether we’re actually giving this a proper shot and not just for shits and giggles or as an escape from our other failed connections.”

His sincerity both surprises and flatters you, and you can’t tell if you’re supposed to be frozen in shock or hugging him, or a secret third thing, so you just stay still, absently fiddling with your fingers.

When you look up again, Soobin’s holding out his hand, and you look at him with obvious confusion. Rolling his eyes, he takes your hand in his, lips pursed into a thin line. You want to make some clever jab at him, but his hands are warm and soft and they practically swallow up your much smaller ones, and you’re filled with a wash of emotions so intense that you can’t muster up the strength to retort.

Soobin notices that you’re still visibly perplexed, and he mutters. “We’re on a date, you know. We’ve got to act the part.” It’s a half truth at best; he does want to give this date a proper chance, but selfishly, he really just wants to hold your hand for two hours. If you catch onto his white lie, you don’t show it, but he doesn’t miss the rosy hue that colors your cheeks as you nod.

He’s right, you think– it is a date, and you’re the one who swiped on him first, so the least you can do is treat him like a possible suitor and not just your best friend. He deserves that much, at least, and you need to know whether this bundle of butterflies in your stomach is a passing feeling or a dull ache you’ve forgotten about, so you let him lead you into the dimly lit array of fish tanks.

You’re noticing a lot of things about Soobin.

You notice that Soobin’s eyes practically twinkle when he gets excited. It’s never been something you’ve taken note of, but you can’t help but notice it now, every time he points out a species of fish he recognizes. It’s cute. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to find your best friend cute, but you do.

You notice how his comically long fingers slot in between yours, and you’re really starting to like how it feels, though you’d die of embarrassment if you admitted as much. 

Not to mention he’s an absolutely perfect gentleman. He’s constantly asking you if you want something to eat, if you’re tired, if you’re cold, and you let him know that you’re fine each time. When you accidentally pull apart your shoelaces, he’s quick to kneel down and tie them up for you. When he stops to grab himself a bottle of juice, he offers one to you, too.

Had Soobin always been this pretty? So cute? And so sweet? How had you never taken notice of him like this all these years? (You know the answer to that, but you’re still surprised at what you’re noticing nonetheless.)

Soobin catches you staring at him while you’re both supposed to be looking at a school of clownfish, and you expect him to make some egotistical joke at your expense, but instead he gives you a warm smile, eyes crinkling into crescents, and god dammit to hell, you melt. 

The two hours pass by like nothing, and unlike your past few dates, you’re dreading the end of it, and you wish that the beep signifying it’s over would never come. To your disappointment, he releases your hand as you approach the entrance, and your hand is already missing his warmth. You turn to face him; well, not really, because you can’t bear to make eye contact with him, not when you spent the better part of two hours shamelessly ogling at him.

His voice cuts in between the thoughts rattling around in your head, and he sounds so apprehensive that it worries you. “Can I ask you something? No, wait, can you promise me something?”

You know how seriously Soobin takes his promises, so you’re a little scared for what he’s going to say next, but you nod anyway.

“Promise me that if this doesn’t work out, we’ll still be friends. Please.” The last word is so quiet that you almost miss it, and when you finally muster the courage to meet his gaze, he’s giving you a pleading look so earnestly that it breaks your heart a little. 

“I promise– no, I pinky promise. We’ll be friends, no matter what.”

Since he was younger, Soobin’s held the belief that pinky promises are binding, and he knows that you know this, so you hold out your pinky, hoping that this can ease whatever worries he has on his mind.

You pinky promised. Soobin knows that it’s your unspoken way of assuring him (you’ve never been the most verbally affectionate, anyways), a quiet way of letting him know that he means just as much to you as you do to him. He links pinkies with you to seal the promise, feeling just a little bit lighter as you both make your way to the subway station together, shoulders bumping all the while.

Soobin just really, really hopes that you’ll be able to keep that promise.

[How would you rate your date?]

[★★★★★]

Congratulations! Your next date is scheduled for 8pm tonight, at the Night Market.

You shouldn’t be surprised that your next date with Soobin comes so soon– you still have your weekly quotas to meet, and the app always schedules dates within 24 hours of matching or a positive rating, but truth be told, your surprise is solely because you just don’t know how to face him. You two had made that pinky promise to stay friends regardless of the circumstances, but you’d also resolved to treat him like a potential suitor while you two are seeing each other, so where does that leave you? 

Well, it leaves you in front of the closet with no idea what to wear. You want to look good (for Soobin, but you’re in denial at the moment), but it’s just a night market, and you know you’ll never hear the end of it if Soobin catches on that you went through lengths just to impress him.

Speaking of the devil, your phone flickers on to reveal a text from him, and you scoff as you scan its contents.

soob: so i hear you enjoyed our date

y/n noona: ignoring that. anyways

y/n noona: what’s the deal for tonight

y/n noona: i need to know asap

soob: aw, noona, do you want to see me again that badly? i’m excited, see you later tonight ♥️

y/n noona: shut up, you clearly want to see me again too. don’t be late or i’m stealing your wallet later 

y/n noona: i'm asking what’s the dress code, are we matching again :p

soob: i mean, if you insist… 🙄 i knew you wanted me

y/n noona: nvm you’re getting me in a hoodie and my raggedy sweats with the hole in the knee, fuck you

soob: no no i take it back i’m sorry 

y/n noona: ok fine you get spared just this once

y/n noona: [IMG_3687.jpg]

y/n noona: final outfit check. if we’re going to be matching it will be your decision so choose wisely

soob: wait that’s not fair

soob: noona come back

soob: DON’T LEAVE ME HANGING LIKE THIS

[y/n noona has “Liked” your message]

soob: you are so mean to me

You let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding when Soobin arrives, clad in a blue flannel that’s nearly identical to yours, black tee, beige cargos, and a black shoulder bag. You’d been hoping he would follow through, and there’s a small surge of pride at how you’ll be walking around the market, hand in hand, in matching outfits, but there’s something you hadn’t been counting on.

He’s wearing his glasses. 

You’ve always known that Soobin doesn’t have the best eyesight (he’s constantly squinting to see things, but so do you), but now that you’re seeing him in a new light, his usual black frames are suddenly the most attractive thing in the world, and you may as well be holding a neon sign that blares “I HEART NERDS” for him to see.

You make a painfully pathetic attempt to mask your delight by waving at him with a grin, and thankfully Soobin doesn’t notice, or if he does, he doesn’t make any show of it, and instead he simply salutes at you with two fingers and cracks a grin. As he sidles up to you, his large hand slips into yours with a little too much ease, fingers immediately interlocking with yours, and it sends your head into a frenzy all over again. As if he’s aware that your mind is going haywire, Soobin leans down towards you, and for a second you think he’s going to kiss you.

You’re frantically trying to make some motion to stop him, it’s so sudden and your cheeks are way too hot now, and he’s way too close, and your damn arms won’t budge–

“I hope you came ready to eat. I came armed with a fuck load of cash because I am going to stuff myself silly with food, and I am not getting turned away by the ‘cash only’ booths.” There’s a fire of determination in Soobin’s eyes, paired with a wide grin, and you don’t know whether to be concerned for him or for yourself, but nonetheless, you’re a little relieved that you completely misread the situation. Before you can say anything in response, though, he’s dragging you towards the sweeping lines of booths, already making a beeline for some takoyaki. 

The tray full of octopus balls in Soobin’s hands is steaming and they smell absolutely mouthwatering, and, in true Soobin fashion, he gets over excited and tries to pop the entire thing in his mouth in one go. He immediately regrets it, of course, because immediately he’s whining over the fact that his tongue is now most definitely burnt and numb from the piping hot orb of batter he’d just tried to scarf down. You might be finding him insanely attractive now, but he’s still as clumsy as ever, and you can’t stifle the laughter that bubbles in your throat at the sight.

“Dumbass… you should know damn well that you shouldn’t put a whole takoyaki in your mouth like that.” You tease, snickering as he fans his tongue once he swallows.

“Shut up! I couldn’t help myself!” He lets out a childish huff, stuffing another ball into his mouth with a comically exaggerated pout, and consequently huffing and puffing at the heat that blooms in his mouth once more. The whole display is undeniably adorable, and it takes all of the willpower you have to resist the burning desire to squish his cheeks. 

The tray of takoyaki is polished off in no time, and a bowl of bingsu, a cup of fish cake soup, two sticks of tanghulu, a plate of sweet rice cakes, an ice cream cone, and a million other things you lost track of follow suit into the bottomless pit that seems to be Soobin’s stomach. He wasn’t kidding when he said he came ready to eat– he’s plowing through the booths like it’s his last meal on Earth. He’s gracious enough to offer you half of his portions, at least, so it’s not like he’s leaving you to starve. (you’d kill him if he did, though.) Once he’s had his fill, his lips curl up into a mischievous grin as he jabs his thumb in the direction of a different section of the market, one filled with countless games: target shooting, beanbag toss, darts– the row of booths seems to stretch on forever. 

“Oh, you’re on, Soob. Don’t think I’m going easy on you because we’re on a date.”

“Yeah? Don’t think I’m going easy on you because you’re older.”

Contrary to both of your words, Soobin is absolutely fucking terrible at the beanbag toss, despite his long arms definitely giving him an advantage, and you’re no good at shooting or throwing and aiming at anything, really, so the two of you leave each booth with empty hands, though you’re laughing as if you’ve hit the jackpot.

Even though you two fail spectacularly at every single game they have available, you’re suddenly aware of how much your cheeks hurt. From smiling. From laughing. When was the last time that happened on a date? Or ever, even?

Soobin ventures off on his own while you’re lost in thought, and he returns from his little solo adventure with yet another serving of tanghulu (the third one of the night: strawberry for him, tangerine for you this time). You’re reaching out to grab the sweet from his outstretched hand, when suddenly you jump as loud popping sounds blare overhead. There’s a beat of silence before a flurry of colorful lights blooms in the sky, and your shoulders relax once you realize it’s just fireworks.

You’re admiring the colors and shapes of the fireworks display as you crunch on your tanghulu, and you’re so enraptured you almost miss the feeling of someone’s gaze on you. Almost.

When you turn to confirm your suspicions, you’re right, it’s Soobin who’s staring at you, but he’s staring at you so intently, with such intensity, that you immediately grow flustered– he’s never looked at you like that before– and you’re immensely thankful that the flashes of light in the sky mask the rosy hue that’s surely staining your cheeks. Just when you’re about to swing your head away to focus your attention on the fireworks once more, his hand flies out to cradle your chin in his palm, keeping your gaze fixated on him. 

Then he’s closing the distance, slowly but surely, fixated on you all the while to gauge your reaction, and even though you’re frozen in shock, you don’t think you would’ve moved, anyways. Your eyes flutter shut at the last minute, nerves getting the better of you, until his lips brush against yours tentatively, as if he’s hesitating, holding back.

You meet his gaze once more, and neither of you say a word, you just nod in response to the pleading look in his eyes, as if asking your permission. He breaks out into the most beautiful smile, one that you wish you could snap a mental photo of and tuck away in a safe place in your mind, and then he’s kissing you. Actually kissing you.

He kisses you with such fervor, as if he’s been wanting to do this his whole life, and you can’t help the way you practically melt in his hold, pressing yourself against his broad figure. The fireworks display is all but forgotten, the only thing on either of your minds being the way your lips meld into each other, and the way your hands clasp together.

Soobin’s in a daze when you two finally break away for a much-needed breath, and you’re sure you look like you’re in an equally hazy state. For a moment, you two are dead silent, staring at each other, with only the sound of your soft pants and the popping of fireworks in the background to fill the silence.

Soobin is the one who breaks the silence first, smiling sheepishly as he rubs the nape of his neck. “To be honest, I’ve… I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

Your eyes are as wide as saucers, and you can feel your jaw go slack in shock. Soobin had been wanting to kiss you. Soobin has thought about kissing you. Your best friend Soobin wanted to kiss you.

“Why didn’t you?” You reply without thinking, but really, you know very well exactly why he’s never done it. He’s your best friend, always has been, and he’d be doing much more than fucking up your friendship by kissing you before you two matched. Naturally, Soobin leaves that question unanswered, posing a question of his own instead.

“What made you match with me?”

“Well…” You don’t know what to say. You don’t want to rattle off a list of qualities that make him desirable– you’re already feeling flustered enough after he kissed you like that, and you’re not looking to inflate his stupid ego or risk being the butt of his teasing. But you want to be honest with him. You don’t want him thinking his suppressed desire has been one-sided all this time.

“I guess I’ve always wondered what it would be like to go on a date with you. We wouldn’t be bored, we would know how to keep each other happy, and understand each other, that kind of thing… and I was a little tired of seeing you go through all those people you didn’t click with, who didn’t get you, especially not the way I did. You know I’ve never liked the people you were seeing, and I was always annoyed by the idiots you dated in high school, and all your stupid matches… I always thought everyone took you for granted, and no one seemed to care about actually getting to know you. I thought I was just looking out for you, caring about you, as your best friend, but maybe I was actually just jealous.”

“Jealous? Really?” He looks so incredulous it embarrasses you that you have to clarify further. 

“Yes, jealous… I especially hated what’s-her-name, Hyeji? That one student council girl who dumped you in front of the whole school.”

Soobin grimaces at the mention of her name, and you can’t help the relief you feel at his response. “Ugh, her. Led me on for months because she thought I was cute and then when we started dating she nitpicked every single thing I did, all because I wasn’t the suave drama lead of her dreams and then dumped me because she couldn’t change me. You know she threw away a whole pack of my Pokemon cards because she thought it was ‘too nerdy’?”

“See? This is what I mean. None of your romantic partners actually seem to appreciate you as you are. And so I don’t know, something came over me, and I wanted to see if I could do a good job because I  know I appreciate you for who you are and now I’m confused, and I feel like I’ve ruined our friendship forever, and–”

To your relief, Soobin doesn’t laugh– instead he cuts your rambling off with a quick kiss, and it flusters you into silence. “Shh. We promised, remember?”

“I mean, we also promised each other when we were in high school that we’d settle down and raise ten dogs on a farm together.”

Soobin laughs this time. “Yeah, I remember that. But this is a pinky promise, isn’t it? It’s different.”

“You’re right… but it’s scary, you know? Coming to this realization about you, and thinking about you this way, and enjoying it, but also worrying about how we’re going to get out of this after our relationship expires... I don’t want to get too carried away and change our dynamic forever.” You’re chewing the skin off your lower lip nervously (you never did break that habit, so now your lip is bleeding), and, while Soobin’s voice is gentle, you know him well enough to detect the subtle tremor as he speaks.

“I know. But we’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out. I won’t let anything remove you from my life for good. Especially not the watch.” His voice is so low, so quiet, you’d miss it if you weren’t fixated on him, as if he’s trying to convince himself, and you squeeze his hand in what you hope is an admirable attempt at reassuring him. “The app hasn’t told us our connection’s expired yet, so I just really, really want to give this a chance. A proper chance, so I can say I did it before I get matched with my ‘real’ soulmate, or whatever. I don’t want to think about what could have been, especially not with you. I think that’d be worse for us.”

You know exactly what he means. Harboring dormant feelings for your best friend never bodes well, at least not in the movies and the books, so you may as well get this pining out of your system, and let it become a distant memory as soon as possible, if it’s not meant to be. It’s only fair, for both of your futures, and for your friendship. (and though neither of you want to admit it, the thought of not being each other’s soulmates is depressing.)

“Look, Soob… I really want to give this a chance, too. I want to see where it takes us while we’re allowed to. I want to try. It’s scary, it’s fucking terrifying, but you’re my best friend, Soob. I promise you won’t lose me because of some stupid watch. Pinky promise.” You try to keep your voice upbeat as you hold out your pinky towards him, offering a tender smile. He links his pinky with yours, and you can see his frame visibly relax once he does. 

You rest your head on his shoulder, pinkies still linked, and silently hope that you’ll be able to uphold your promise to him. You’ve never been any good with breakups. Soobin knows that.

But you’ll be okay with him, right?

He’s your best friend, after all.

[How would you rate your date?]

[★★★★★]

…

Congratulations! Your next date is scheduled for 2pm tomorrow, at the Botanical Gardens.

Soobin decided on his own that he’s picking you up for the third date, and he let you know as much.  After last night’s events though, this means that you’re turning your entire closet upside down trying to find the sweet spot for your look today, because your head is jumbled with far too many thoughts, all of them about Soobin. Every outfit you think up is either too dressy, or too casual, or too out there, or too bland, and you have half a mind to reschedule with your mind in the state that it is. Unfortunately for you, Soobin is already on his way, and you’re not the type of asshole to tell him to head back home and forget the whole date, so you just stare at your pile of clothes on the floor, hoping that somehow you’ll be enlightened with the perfect outfit idea and get yourself looking presentable before he comes knocking.

The universe is clearly not on your side, though, because your doorbell rings not even a minute later, and all you’ve picked out is your jeans and you’re still very much topless. You shoot a message to Soobin, thumbs flying frantically as you let him know you’re not quite ready yet– he might be your best friend in the entire world, but you’re not ready for him to see you under your clothes just yet, especially now that you’re properly seeing each other.

You’re still not sure what to wear, but you figure a beige knit sweater should be safe– you won’t look like you’re trying too hard, but you also won’t look like you’re not trying at all. When you swing the door open to finally greet Soobin, your breath quite literally gets taken away, because he trips and almost knocks you over with his lanky frame, but also, he’s breathtaking.

He’s clearly put a lot of thought into his outfit, which is very cute, and he looks absolutely stunning. A sleek black cardigan with white striped accents on the sleeve, a white dress shirt that clearly looks freshly pressed– hell, he’s even wearing a tie– and those godforsaken glasses that have you in a chokehold somehow. You don’t even bother hiding your delight– he’s so beautiful, and you know he needs a little validation after he probably spent hours putting his look together.

He catches you staring wordlessly, and he flushes with embarrassment.“What? Too much? I knew I should have skipped on the tie–” He grumbles, making a move to loosen it, but he’s stopped by your hand over his.

“No. You look great, Soob. Seriously.” You’re not used to being verbally affectionate, especially not with him, but when he looks that sad, like a kicked puppy, you know better than to tease him when he’s unsure of himself. Despite that, you’re still shy as you reassure him. “You look beautiful.”

The way he brightens when he hears your words is almost cartoonish, and this time, you can’t hold back your laughter, which earns a pout from him, which in turn only fuels your laughter further. You appease him by lacing your fingers with his (he’s apparently a lot easier to please than you remember, but maybe that’s your imagination), and he responds by placing a kiss to the back of your hand. The gesture is tender and sweet, and you think about what it’d be like to have Soobin do that to you every day.

“Well, shall we?” He bows exaggeratedly with his free arm, giving you a blinding smile.

You mirror his smile, and playfully curtsy in return. “We shall.”

When you two arrive at the botanical gardens, it’s jam-packed with people (a worker explains that their tulips are in full bloom, so everyone’s vying for their social media moment), and Soobin is visibly startled, though he recovers quickly as he turns to you. 

“You okay? There’s so many people... I think this is twice, maybe even thrice as many people as there were at the night market.” You don’t do well with crowds, the crowd at the night market was probably the most you could handle, but you know that you don’t have a choice– you have to follow through with the date as scheduled, or risk a fine that neither of you can afford, so you just nod, your grip on his hand tightening. 

Soobin somehow finds a slightly less crowded area of the tulip fields for you two to stroll in after doing a quick sweep (thank god for his height, and that he uses it to his advantage), but you still feel tense as you walk hand in hand. There’s still a decent amount of people, with more spilling in excitedly, phone cameras in hand, and you have a bad feeling the crowd will only grow in size as the day drags on. You just hope you’re as convincing an actress as you think you are, and that Soobin won’t notice as he reads the identification cards for each flower.

You’re caught off guard when he gently pushes you down onto a nearby bench, and crouches in front of you, clasping your other hand in his so that both of them are occupied. The concerned expression on his face tells you that you’re nowhere near an Oscar for your performance, and that he’s most definitely caught on to your discomfort. Normally you’d be embarrassed at the display– you hate making a scene in public, but your anxiety is getting the better of you, and it’s nice to know that he still knows you as well as you thought.

“Noona… look. I know you don’t like crowds, especially excitable and hectic ones like these. If you really, really feel like this is too much for you, we can cancel the date and go home. I want you to have a good time, and I know it’s hard for you when there’s so many people.”

You’re chewing at your lower lip again, and Soobin lets go of one of your hands to thumb at your lip to stop you before you tear it open with your teeth. “But Soob, we came all this way. And you dressed so nicely for me, for this date, and I spent all this time wanting to look good for you, and spend time with you…” You trail off when your breath catches in your throat, your chin trembling as your eyes well up. “It’d be such a waste to cancel after all our time and effort.”

Once again Soobin’s thumb is gently swiping over your cheeks when the tears finally spill over, hushing you with the soft sincerity that he’s prone to when he’s not teasing you. 

“Hey, hey… we can reschedule for another day, can’t we? We don’t have to do this, noona. There’s always next time. It won’t be a waste, I promise.” You feel so apologetic you could die. Soobin’s being so patient and sweet and understanding with you and here you are, kicking up a fuss. The least you could do is power through and follow through with your scheduled date, and you’d hate to miss out on this time with him that you’ve been looking forward to. You were excited for this date, and you want him to know that.

“I think I’d feel worse if we cancelled after we went through all this trouble, and especially if it was all because of me… just give me a moment to calm myself down.” Soobin nods in response, cradling your cheek in his palm, and you sigh appreciatively at the tender gesture. He doesn’t say anything as you wipe away the remnants of your tears and blow your nose– he just holds your hand, letting you gather yourself, and you think for a moment that this must be the benefit of falling for your best friend.

Once the tears have finally subsided, and you’ve had a moment to calm your nerves, you meet Soobin’s eyes, which are searching yours, as if scanning for any lingering signs of discomfort. When he can’t find any, and you give him a reassuring look and a grateful smile, he seizes the opportunity to steal a peck from your lips, grinning cheekily with his tongue between his teeth when he pulls away. 

“H-hey! What was that for?!” Your shock and surprise is real, but your indignance certainly isn’t, if your rosy cheeks are any indication. Your discomfort is forgotten, at least temporarily, so you’re glad for that.

“Oh… just because. You liked it, though.” He’s so smug, that stupid asshole, but he’s right, so you pull him in for another quick kiss before you try to make a run for it. Unfortunately for your escape plan, you’ve forgotten that your hand is still very much interlocked with his, and he’s significantly stronger than you, so he easily pulls you back into his embrace. You can’t say you mind, though– he’s warm and he smells good, like jasmine and sandalwood and the faint scent of vanilla, and if you weren’t already so flustered you’d bury your face in his broad chest.

“Feeling better now?” The words fall from Soobin’s lips with a teasing lilt, but you know it’s his way of genuinely checking in on you, so you answer sincerely.

“Much better. Though I’d still like to avoid the crowds and find somewhere else to have our date… if you don’t mind? The tulips are pretty, and as much as I would like to admire them too, there’s just so many people fighting for a good photo…” 

“Of course, I get it. I saw a sign pointing to a field of azaleas over there that is probably getting a lot less foot traffic than the tulips, so we could head over there?” He gestures in the opposite direction of the tulip field, and you’re more than happy to oblige, letting him tug you along.

Thankfully Soobin’s guess is correct, because there’s only a handful of people at the azalea field when you two arrive, and the tension in your shoulders finally lets up. The dainty red and pink flowers have their own quaint charm, and they’re vibrant and eye-catching. You crouch down to get a closer look, taking hold of a delicate petal in between the pads of your fingers to admire them.

“Did you know red and pink azaleas represent love and romance? Roses aren’t the only flower of love like everyone seems to think.” Soobin’s deep voice rings in your ear and you startle a little, partially because he’s way closer to you than you expected (it’s going to be a while before you get used to maintaining close proximity with him) and partially because you had no idea Soobin was just casually carrying the knowledge of flower meanings in that pretty head of his.

“They’re so pretty… they’d make a much more unique gift than roses for special occasions, too. Not that there’s anything wrong with roses, but they’re kind of done to death, don’t you think?”

Instead of answering, Soobin looks both ways, then plucks a flower, and you hiss in disapproval at him. “Hey–! What are you doing? The sign says that we can’t pick the flowers!” Luckily, none of the staff has taken notice of his mischievous little act, but even if they did, you can’t help but wonder if they’d even care, when he could charm his way into anything.

Soobin tucks the flower behind your ear, seemingly ignoring your disapproval as he hums a tune under his breath. “A gift for our special occasion, and a little commemoration of our budding romance, or something. And look, noona, you’re so pretty. Just like a flower.” He punctuates his statement with the sound of his phone camera flashing, followed by four more, until you’re blushing profusely with embarrassment.

“Soobin, that’s enough–” Your cheeks are beet red– you can feel it from the sheer amount of blood running into them– and though you really like that Soobin’s taking pictures of you for him to keep, you’re extremely camera shy, and he knows that, which is probably why he’s so insistent.

“Actually, the issue is that I didn’t take enough. Now smile for the camera!” You have to practically wrestle your way away from the camera, but not before he snaps a few more of you smiling bashfully at him. He catches up to you with ease (damn those long legs of his), arms secure around your frame as you squeal, though you’re secretly pleased that you’re in his hold.

The time once again ticks by like nothing as you walk side by side, admiring the blooms around you and snapping photos of each other (“For wallpaper usage purposes,” Soobin says, and you blush again), and before you know it, your watches are beeping to signify that your two hours are up. Soobin sobers up almost immediately, expression unreadable, and though he doesn’t say anything as he takes your hand, you know what’s on his mind, because the same thing is on yours.

There’s a palpable tension hanging in the air once the two of you reach the entrance of the gardens– it’s the third date, after all, and you promised you’d find out your expiration date if you made it this far. You’re relieved that your watches haven’t blared just yet, signifying the end of your connection, but you’re still struck with the nervousness of finding out how long you’ll last. You think you’ll never get over it if you only get a few months– or worse, a few days with him– after all this secret pining and yearning.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Soobin was somehow eerily calm about the whole thing. But you do know better, and you know that he’s just trying to put on a brave face for you, and for himself. The two of you open Time to Love in silence, hands still interlocked, swiping to the ‘Love Countdown’ tab with your free hands, and brace yourselves. Soobin gives you a reassuring nod, and you respond back with what you hope is an equally reassuring smile, and that your expression doesn’t betray the fear bubbling deep within you.

Soobin takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “Okay, on the count of three,”

“One…” “Two…”

“Three!”

When both of you tap the in-app tab, there isn’t an array of numbers indicating an expiration date with a ticking countdown, as you expected and had grown accustomed to on your previous dates– in fact, there isn’t a single number on the screen– and instead there’s an infinity sign.

You two don’t have an expiration date.

You and Soobin look at each other, then at your watches, then at each other again. 

“Wait, we don’t have an expiration date–”

Then the realization dawns on both of you, and it hits you like a truck.

“Wait, we’re soulmates?!”

Both of you are sporting the same bewildered expression, and you both go to check your progress bars, just to be sure– they’re full, just as you’d expect after being matched with your soulmate. So that’s why your watch alarms haven’t gone off. You two were the one in a million. Once the shock finally wears off, it’s replaced with pure, unbridled joy, and when Soobin sweeps you off your feet to gather you in his arms, there’s an emotion bubbling in you that’s equal parts unfamiliar and yet welcome.

You’d thought all this time, all these years, that there was no way you should feel this way about your best friend, of all people. That you shouldn’t fuck this up, because Soobin has always been there for you, and you’ve always been there for him. As his friend. As your friend. 

But here is the universe, telling you that you’re fated to love him, and that he’s fated to love you in return. 

And love him you do. You love Soobin. And when you look at him, and see the way he’s looking at you, with fondness practically dripping from his gaze, you know he loves you too. 

Maybe the watch really is bullshit. Maybe it is statistically impossible to decide someone’s life partner based on an algorithm.

But maybe it’s onto something, because it seems silly to have ever thought of being with anyone except Soobin. You never would’ve thought to look for your forever right next to you, and yet, here he is, in the flesh. Was it a coincidence that he made it onto your recommended matches that fateful night? Was it a coincidence that he felt the same way you did?

Soobin’s lips capture yours in a searing kiss, and you melt in his heat, kissing him back with a fierce fervor, as if desperately communicating the depth of the feelings you’ve let build up silently after all these years. You decide that there’s no such thing as coincidences– he’s always known what’s best for you, and you’ve always wanted what’s best for him. You just didn’t know that the answer to both of those things was each other.

“I love you, noona.” He whispers with a bashful, dimpled smile, and your heart swells.

“I love you too, Soob.”

Soobin has always been counting down to something. 

To the end of another grueling workday, the next League of Legends patch update, to anything, so he always has something to look forward to. But he’s never looked forward to this.

The love countdown has always been something he despised and dreaded– he’s always wanted to be the master of his own fate, without the shackles of the app tying him down with each new connection. He’d always thought that his soulmate would be some poorly matched individual who he’d have a mediocre life with, but all that seems to be proven wrong as he looks at you.

He hates being wrong. But when he sees the way you smile, the way you regard him with the utmost love and affection in your gaze, the way you hold his hand as if you’ll lose him if you let go– he thinks he’s willing to concede defeat, at least this time.

Maybe that stupid watch does know a thing or two about love. Maybe it doesn’t. Maybe this is all just pure coincidence. But despite it all, Soobin is thankful that this is where he ends up. That both of you had been counting down all this time to each other. 

Because if there's anyone he can count on in this world, it's you.

[radioactiverats]

Mentor Starscream x seeker!reader

This is a mashup of all the timelines basically (._.) Starscream has been on the brain recently... In the firsts of a long journey, I have gotten my first two blokees from blind boxes (Grapple and Ironhide). Let's see how long it'll take me to get Starscream TvT

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

Ever since you joined the Vosian Air Academy as a young cadet, Starscream had been there. Everyone knew who Starscream was. How could you not, when he was such a high-profile cybertronian? You thought that the most you would ever see of him at the academy was his printed frame on the glossy posters stuck up everywhere - some with motivational slogans, some showing off some genuinely impressive flying maneuvers, and some advertising the war effort against the Quintessons.

Understandably, it came as a surprise to learn that he would be personally taking on your first year tactical maneuvers class.

Even before your first class, rumours ran rampant. Starscream is very strict, your fellow cadets whispered, in tones of both fear and admiration. You're fragged if he picks on you. Better avoid his punishments. Didn't you hear what happened to the bot who failed to execute his instructions the first time?

Your apprehension, however, was definitely outweighed by admiration and curiosity. No matter how snappy he seemed, your future instructor was still the Air Commander of Vos, which was no small feat. Unlike several other government positions which required the right connections rather than skills, Air Commander was not a position one could hope to take on without truly having mastered the skies.

The first time you see him, you, as well as many others, are instantly in awe of his commanding presence. He's taller than you thought, frame polished and his beautiful wings a shimmering white. The sharp lines of his faceplate and the delicate point of his chin exemplify his graceful form, and his optics flick over the new recruits in a calculating manner. The expression on his faceplate is severe, as you expected, but not cruel. He barks out a command for you to get in a line, snarling when inexperience clashes with the rush to obey, several of you crashing clumsily into each other.

"Finally," Starscream snaps, when you eventually arrange yourselves in a semi-straight line. "If you lot cannot execute even the simplest of commands, how do you expect to survive the war?"

It sounds harsh, but he's not wrong. It sinks in again that you are here because, despite all propaganda saying otherwise, it seems that the war against the Quintessons is not going well. Why else would there have been a mass recruitment exercise? You, and the rest of your class, are going to be shipped straight off to war when you graduate the academy. As the reality of the situation sinks in, Starscream's words suddenly seem less like a scolding and more like a warning. You straighten your frame a little more, shoulders back, chassis out. If the Air Commander himself is giving you tips on how to survive the war, by Primus, you're going to listen.

Starscream announces waspishly that you are going to learn how to do a breakaway maneuver today.

"Everyone," Starscream threatens, "and I mean everyone, is going to perform this maneuver successfully within this solar cycle, or there will be consequences. Understood?"

There are only a few weak "yes sir's" from the line, but Starscream simply scoffs and chooses not to waste his time enforcing a show of authority. It's clear from the wide optics fixated on him that he's already won your admiration.

"Watch," is all he says, before he's smoothly transforming before you into his alt-mode and, with a cacophonous boom, blasts off into the stratosphere.

All of you can't hold back your shouts of amazement as you scatter from your haphazard line to get a better look. The F-15 dips and twirls though the sky, slicing through fluffy clouds like butter before slowing to a stop. Then, as all of you watch with mounting excitement, Starscream begins his demonstration - the F-15 begins to gain speed, faster, and faster again, until you're certain he's going to break the sound barrier and blip into nothingness - when suddenly, the jet swerves at a supremely clean ninety-degree angle without losing any of its speed.

All your classmates are shouting and hooting at the frankly incredible demonstration, even as Starscream transforms back into bot-mode and comes to a smooth stop in front of you. It might have been your imagination, but his plates are drawn less tight around him, and he exudes a breathless, self-satisfied air. This you can understand - all seekers would agree that the feeling of flying is second to none.

You're dreamily replaying Starscream's demonstration in your processor, and startle when a finger jabs into your field of vision. Your optics cycle, and you freeze when you realize that none other than Starscream is towering right over you, a calculating sneer on his faceplate.

"You," he snaps. "Seems that you have a very clear recollection of my demonstration, have you not?"

You nod, unable to speak, and watch with rapt fascination as his intake curls into a smirk.

"In that case," Starscream drawls, "you should have no trouble going first, hmm?"

You stiffen. The upperclassmen had warned you about this - Starscream tended to choose cadets he could make examples of, for better or for worse. But as you meet his optics, it's not cruelty you find - but a challenge.

"Well?" Starscream says. "We don't have the entirety of the solar cycle to be standing around like idiots."

The rest of the cadets have fallen into an almost horrified silence - yet, you can feel the relief emanating from the others that they haven't been picked. You prickle at that. You've not been picked to take the fall - you look at Starscream again, full in the faceplate, a simmering defiance beneath your plates. A hand on his cocked hip now, his optics boring into yours, daring you to accept. You remember what you saw in his faceplate the first time. Severity, sure, but not cruelty.

What if, you wonder, it's all been a misconstrued. Starscream doesn't pick on the weaker ones. He picks the ones who look like they're up to a challenge - and by Primus, you are going to impress him or die trying.

You stride up to a patch of open land, engines thrumming as you prepare to take off. The initial feeling of leaving the ground behind, launching yourself into open space always thrills you. You transform, and waste no time in accelerating with a sonic boom - soaring higher and higher and higher, engines warm and your processor humming with the ecstasy of flying. Slowing to a hovering stop, you take in the tiny figures of your classmates below you, so small they look like dots.

You accelerate, slicing through cloud after cloud after cloud and, it's now or never - your engines scream as you twist as sharply as you can to your right, narrowly avoiding careening off balance as a burst of speed aids your recovery. Energon thrums through your frame with the adrenaline of it all.

"Not bad," comes a raspy voice from your left. You almost tumble out of the air in shock. Starscream, in his alt-mode, soaring alongside you. Had he been here the whole time? "Descend, cadet."

Both of you reach the ground in tandem, with you still reeling from the shock of Starscream flying beside you, staggering ungracefully as soon as your pedes hit the ground.

"Our first volunteer was able to execute the maneuver on their first attempt," Starscream says. His optics are still fixed on you, appraising. If you look really hard, you might detect a hint of satisfaction, dare you say, at your performance. "I expect that the rest of you will have no trouble following suit."

And by some minor miracle, your entire squadron does manage to pull the maneuver off by sundown, even if Starscream does lose his temper here and there.

"Primus, he's a slavedriver," one of your classmates moans. "I can barely feel my wings anymore." And it's true - your own frame screams from exertion, but you've accomplished more in a single day with Starscream than with any other instructor. The ache in your frame is well-earned, and your respect for Starscream has only grown - he might be snappy on the outside, but the careful way with which he'd guided each cadet through the maneuver did not go unnoticed.

The first stellar cycle passed by reasonably uneventfully, but you were proudly able to say that you'd distinguished yourself as one of Starscream's top pupils - his optics would soften ever so slightly when it came to you. Unfortunately, the rest of his hard work would go abruptly up in flames. An unexpected Quintesson attack on the Air Academy had left you the sole survivor of your entire squadron. And before you even had time to take in this shocking loss, the miner Orion Pax had exposed Sentinel Prime for the fraud he was and been reborn as Optimus Prime. Just like that, the Cybertron you had always known split into two factions. The Quintessons had always been a common enemy - but now, this looked grimly like civil war.

In the aftermath of Sentinel's downfall, Starscream had searched for you, first thing, something akin to panic in his optics. "Thank Primus," he muttered. "Come, we have no time - " And you looked around you as Cybertron split before your eyes, seekers taking to the skies to follow the bot now known as Megatron. Starscream seems to sense your hesitation, and pauses.

"I-" he begins, servos clenching into fists as his wings hitch upwards. "I will not question your decision." You can see it though, in every trembling iota of his frame, that he wants you to come with him. And, glancing behind you at a crumbling Cybertron, the only thing familiar to you is Starscream - you decide right there and then that you would follow him to the ends of the earth.

You meet his optics as you launch yourself upwards, and are nearly knocked back by the overwhelming relief that you find. No matter what the uncertain future holds, you are certain that Starscream will always be there.

Megatron, your new leader, dubs you the decepticons. A few vorns pass as your exiled group finds its feet - Starscream has been made Second in Command. You expected no less. And you suspect that the reason you've made it so long without major incident is that Starscream has been secretly shielding you from the worst of your leader. However, with each stellar cycle you grow restless - you miss Cybertron, your homeworld, and you begin to question Megatron's cruelty. That was where he and Starscream differed - Megatron's harshness stemmed from outright cruelty, whereas Starscream's severity was never without reason. Did you choose the wrong side, after all? You find yourself disagreeing with most of your leader's bloodthirsty ideals - yet, Starscream is still here. And surely, you couldn't go wrong by staying at his side?

Watching Megatron make an example of a fellow seeker is the last straw for you - he'd forced every decepticon to watch as he pummeled dents into their delicate frame, ripped wires and leaking energon and battered wings when he was done. You'd turned away and shot off into the skies without a second thought as soon as he'd left. Heel thrusters screaming as you push yourself further, you rocket though the atmosphere until you see the twinkling of the stars in deep space - so close to zero-gravity, every inch of your frame screaming at you to get as far away as possible, when suddenly, you're thrown off-course by a large servo clamping onto your pede.

You shriek, but what's even more shocking is the fact that it's Starscream who has a death grip on you.

"How- how did you-?"

"I trained you, in case you've forgotten," Starscream snarls. "Of course I know your maneuvers."

Both of you fall silent for a few nanokliks. "If I let go," Starscream says, "are you going to jet off?"

Silently, you shake your helm. Honestly, you can't remember the last time that it was just you and him. Megatron's been very demanding - the air commander looks ragged, plates pulled tight with anxiety every time you see him, which was rarely.

Starscream lets go of you with a ragged ex-vent, both of you hovering in place.

You're genuinely not sure where to go from here. You processor spins with the implications of the future at the hands of a violent warlord, at a war that has no end in sight. A war is something you want no part in, but it seems your choices are limited - the battered frame of the seeker flashes through your processor, and your desperation surges once more - you are this close to leaving everything you've ever known behind, if it means escaping the horrors of the war.

"Stop running," Starscream hisses. There's a pinched look on his faceplate, and your wings droop for a nanoklik - guilt sparks though you as you consider the fact that Starscream has been on the receiving end of way worse treatment. Your duty is to him - you feel ashamed that you even considered leaving him behind. But unexpectedly, Starscream ex-vents, and he looks more tired than you've ever seen him.

"I don't want this, either," he mutters. "You - you're all I have left. I understand wanting to run from the war, but..."

It goes unspoken, but you hear him loud and clear.

Don't run from me.

"I can't... I can't help you if you turn away," he says, eventually. You move a little closer, enough for your EM fields to brush - there's guilt there, as if he's blaming himself for putting you in this position - protectiveness, too, and you realise for the first time that Starscream genuinely sees you as his charge.

You're deep enough in the fighting as is, but damned if Starscream isn't determined to see you through this war unscathed.

"Anything happens," he rasps, an oddly open look in his optics. "You come to me. Understood?"

Caught in a war you want no part in, you're aware that Starscream is trying to shield you from the worst of it while he attempts to make the best of a horrible situation. At the very least, you know he has your back, and you hope he knows that you have his.

"Yes, sir!"

Next

[livelaughlovesubs]

Hiii, Nini! Can I please request a Sigma x male reader fic with impact play? We've seen Sigma in fics getting absolutely decimated by the reader LMAO- I almost feel bad, so here's a twist, this is light impact play. Instead of spanks/floggers he can brace for, nope, feathers that make him jump out of his skin every time, giggling despite himself because wtf he's taken so much worse-. I think he'd absolutely lose it with the lighter/gentler stuff more so than the harder stuff purely because of how flustered he'd get XD. Ps I'm making it canon, you cannot look at him and tell me that stressed-as-hell man ain't ticklish.

Ahhhh so true!!! I imagine him as very sensitive and ticklish as well, like 🤤🤤 also since the gender wasn’t mentioned anywhere, you can interpret it however you want :]

Dom!reader x sub!sigma - reader is gn neutral

Warning: tickling/soft impact play, teasing, humiliation, slight dacryphilia (can’t write a fic without good’ol dacryphilia), using his hair as a brush???

Edit: started & finished this in the middle of the night, I’m so tired and I didn’t proof read it, also my brain is cooked idk what I did here

It’s been too quiet these days. Too boring, too mundane, too relaxing. There were many adjectives that would fit this little dilemma you were facing, called ‘dying of boredom’. You’ve been waiting around for your sweetheart to make a mistake, just so you’d have a reason to punish him. Yet how could it be that he’s so perfect in every way possible? You weren’t even exaggerating or meaning to sing his praises, heck you wanted him to be a little more human!

Otherwise you couldn’t think of a good reason to pull him out of his busy schedule, just to have him all to yourself, in such a selfish way. He wouldn’t agree, everyone knows how he puts his work above everything else. Such a horrible work ethic he has. Whatever, no one is perfect, even the manager of the sky casino will have to slip up somewhere, and you were way too eager to find it.

Sigma was just signing some documents as you watched him over his shoulder, taking sneaky peeks as if he hasn’t noticed you already. At this point he was probably wondering what you were doing. It didn’t bother you in the slightest, in fact, you knew due to you being so close, he’d get nervous and overthinking again. Something along the lines of: Did you want something from him? Why were you watching him all silently, so creepily?

And there it was— what you’ve been waiting for! “Sigma~ gosh, you clumsy thing! You wrote down the wrong date there, look.” You pointed it out a little too enthusiastically, eyes sparkling like morning sunlight, reflecting how excited you were. He glanced at you funnily, probably baffled why you were so happy about it. “Ah- yes, I see, uhh.. thanks, y/n.” Sigma furrowed his brows for a split second, then turned his attentions back to the papers. Though before he could continue writing, you snatched the pen out of his hand.

“Nope, you made a mistake sigma, and such a simple one as well. Tsk tsk tsk.” You faked a disappointment sigh, and facepalmed, putting your acting skills to use, “I’ll need to punish you, don’t you think?” So that’s what you’ve been waiting for, and probably the reason why you were so full of glee earlier. “A-are you serious..? For such a small thing?” Sigma looked taken aback, leaning his head back until he met your eyes. A slight blush was already convering his pale cheeks, such a naughty boy, he was excited as well.

“Why of course, it was a grave mistake after all. Stand up.” He was more ready to comply than you thought, not making any fuss as he stood up. “Good boy, now sit on the table.” You moved the chair away, pinning his body between your arms and gripping the edge of the furniture. Sigma glanced at you a few times, seemingly surprised with your demand. To be honest he expected you to bend him over your lap. This was fine as well, in fact, this position would prove itself to be more comfortable than what he initially predicted.

You were close, all up in his intimate space. He swore he could feel the heat radiating off your body. A slight blush covered his cheeks as he waited for your orders, already feeling the effects you had on him. It was almost terrifying how much control you had with just a few words. “Come on, you know how it goes. Strip.” After waiting for what felt like forever, you smirked as you whispered to him. “Ah- right. Sorry.” The boy replied half-minded, hands moving up to unbutton his vest.

This wouldn’t have been all that humiliating if it wasn’t for the fact that you were staring him up and down like some prey, watching his every move as he peeled off one layer after another. “Can’t you.. look in the other way?” He muttered in a meek voice, currently taking his pants off. “I’ve seen you nude plenty times darling,” you reached for his hands and helped him undress, “why are you still embarrassed?”

“You- stop teasing me..” The way his face flushed even more while he desperately tried to shake your hands off was so precious, you couldn’t stop grinning. “Ever thought it’s part of the punishment?” You asked, grabbing his thighs and spreading them apart. They were soft to the touch, and so squishy, his skin was flawless. “Ah-ahh… I’m- I’m really getting punished… over that little mistake?” He bawled his hands into fists, biting his lips to stop the trembling.

“I mean what I said.” He inhaled shakily, and breathed an equally unsure exhale. Eyes glossed over and half-lidded, body burning under your every touch. Poor boy was just preparing for the worst. You gave him a reassuring smile, then raised your hand right over his thighs. So it was going to be spanking, he thought and squeezed his eyes together. To his surprise, instead of the painful slap he expected, he was met with a teasing one. In response his body twitched involuntarily, and his eyes ripped open.

He didn’t flinch because of the pain, no there was no pain to speak of. There were only a soft, faintly red mark that gradually appeared on his inner thigh. Pretty much nothing worth mentioning, you left more marks when you grabbed his skin to spread his legs. “Erm… Y/n?” He couldn’t help but question your actions. That was a slip up, right? He’s taken so much worse, compared to all that you were basically caressing him.

Suddenly, another slap, though just as soft and gentle as the first one, making him jump out of his seat. “Wait- y/n, what are you doing?” It was such a light slap, can you even call it one? Wouldn’t tap be a more fitting description? “Punishing you. Why, do you want to be bullied instead?” You teased, followed by another slap, this time on the other thigh, and his toes curled. Why did this feel even more embarrassing than anything else? The sound was way louder and more dramatic than the actual impact.

“Ah- no but, seriously, what are you doing?” Out of nowhere you slapped his chest, once again it wasn’t painful in the slightest. He tensed together, still able to feel your touch in the places you’ve touched. “Shhh, be good and endure it for me, alright?” Instead of answering him, you stroked his fluffy hair, and smiled all self confident. The look on his face screamed confusion, but he trusted you, and so he simply swallowed the lump in his throat.

You grabbed a strain of his hair, one of the longer locks, sliding your hand through them, a little amazed at how untangled his hair was. As soon as you reached the ends, you held it fairly firm in your hand, and used it like a brush to graze over his skin. First over his cheeks just to annoy him, earning yourself a glare from him, then a feather-light brush over his nipples. He really didn’t know where you were going with this, but god did it rile him up.

It tickled, and it was so foreign, he couldn’t help but subconsciously clench his thighs together. Hands trembling from clenching his fists too hard, the pounding of his own heart echoing in his ears. You made sure to not touch him anywhere except with your hands, which made him all the more sensitive. Those touches were driving him mad, and that fact itself made him all the more flustered. You were barely doing anything, how could it be that he wanted to cry amidst all these sensations?

Soft, muffled whimpers slipped from his swollen lips, he arched his back forward whenever everything became too much. “Hnng- please, ah.. stop the t-teasing…! Hmm..!!” You carefully traced a line down his belly, resting your makeshift brush around his pelvis and moving it in a circling motion. As if all this wasn’t humiliating enough, he now knew why you had him sit on the table. All so you could observe his every move, every shameful expression and listen to every shaky breath he exhaled.

“Look at you getting all excited just from a few touches, you are way more needy than you’d like to admit, aren’t you?” “HnnGh..~ p-please.. ah-!!”He whined again, feeling you finally, finally giving his neglected dick some attention. Only using one finger to lazily rub his tip a few times, before using his hair to brush over the already sticky gland. His precum slowly dribbled from his slit, down his shaft before getting smeared around by you. “So messy.” Was all you had to say.

“Y/n, y-you’re so Mnn.. mean,” he squirmed around, shaking his head as tears rolled down his crimson cheeks, “I-i wanna cum…” you tilted your head to the side, sliding the bush of hair over his inner thighs, “that’s not how you ask for things, baby.” Then you used your other hand to rub his tears away, it ended up with him crying even more. “Such a crybaby, why don’t you try asking nicely?”

He gulped, trying to cease the sobbing for a moment, bending forwards as he let his head drop. The shame was eating at him, but he really couldn’t do this anymore~ which is why he looked up at you like a lost puppy, with glistening eyes and rosy lips, shaking ever so slightly as he begged, “please.. ha-Ahhh…I-i wanna cum♥︎ please m-make me c-cum..!!♡♡♥︎”

You smiled, staying quiet for a moment to raise the intensity and anticipation, then wrapped your arms around his shivering body. “You’ve been so good for me, and good boys deserve to be rewarded.”

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Hello!!!

I love your works, would be able to do a suegiku x gn!reader?

I adored your headcanons and would love to see jouno and Tecchou interact with the reader based on your writing

Tysm!! <3

Interactions between you, Saigiku Jouno and Tetchou Suehiro

Self-Aware! Saigiku Jouno x GN! Reader x Self-Aware! Tetchou Suehiro

Description: Some general headcannons about relationship between you three.

Warning: OOC, English is my second language. Some slight spoilers.

_______

💧🌸 At first, there would be some tension between you, Jouno and Tetchy. Not only because of the "Fictional characters turn out to be real,l and they heard everything I think about them, and they are aware about fandom" factor. This tension almost exclusively came from the Hunting Dogs duo.

💧🌸 Hunting Dogs, Sigma and Bram did appear later, than other characters, it's a fact. And, after they gained self-awareness and joined the rest of the Cast, the inner nervousness appeared. They are afraid, that you won't have a good opinion about them. They don't have too many scenes for you to form a 'stable' opinion. Moreover, most of them, except Sigma, "hurt" your established favorite characters. Yes, they could flood your Mayoi Account with cards and presents, but it will be just a part of a casual app game. Not something from the cannon. They will remain nervous until they get to the Real World.

💧🌸 So first interactions between you, Tetchou and Jouno were awkward. You weren't sure, how to interact with anyone from BSD Cast, too nervous of saying something wrong, and Hunting Dogs duo were dreadfully waiting for a moment you lash out at them for hunting ADA (and, in case of Jouno, arresting Dazai).

💧🌸 It will take some time. Small steps. At first, all of you will have small talks during dinners, discussing your days or last news. Then you will start hanging out (joining Hunting Dogs' morning training). At the end, when you three felt comfortable in confessing your fears to each other, you three will become closer.

🌸 It's on you and Jouno not to let Tetchou go to the kitchen unsupervised. Yes, he can eat whatever he wants, but, sometimes, he wants to share food he made with others. And not everyone can refuse. So, no sole trips to the kitchen for you, Tetchou.

💧 Jouno became an expert in Real World Music. He found liking in wearing headphones and listening to whatever he could find in the web. Quite often you and him can be found snuggling under the blanket, listening music/audiobooks/podcasts.

🌸 Tetchou decided to protect you from in-person scamming attempts. His glare can make scammers reconsider their actions. In some cases, they would even confess their crimes.

💧Jouno wants to try all existing hobbies. During the weekend, he and you (and, sometimes, someone else) will try to do different things. He tried knitting, sewing, painting, sculpture, gardening and aren't planning to stop.

🌸 Tetchou, after he learned about what would happen, if they gained self-awareness later (a.k.a. his fight with Kenji), felt guilty and decided to apologize to you and Kenji. There were no hard feelings between you three, so, you at the end you three decided to hang out together.

💧Jouno got into trouble with Bram and Kunikida after the chapter with him scaring Aya was released. You had to hide him in your room. At the end, everyone calmed down, but, sometimes, Bram and Kunikida gave Jouno heavy glares.

🌸💧 Tetchou tried to create a training regiment for you. However, he can't understand, that there is difference between normal people and super soldier. Jouno is making sure that Tetchou is keeping in mind the difference, while training with you.

🌸💧 Jouno and Tetchou start liking trashy comedies and over the top action movies. They like discussing them while watching. Their comments make it a worthwhile experience.

🌸💧 These two are terrible with understanding modern memes. So you often have to explain them slang.

🌸 When you are sad, Tetchou will be more of a "talk to me" guy. He will listen to your problems, offering advices or just singing you praises.

💧 When you are sad, Jouno will keep you company, not saying a word. He might start trash-talking about people who upset you.

💧🌸 They are polar opposites. But, they have something in common. They like you and want to be close to you.