#it went south so fast

[phinbua]

they should have gone for oboompim or pimpangjan properly instead of whatever happened the last 2 episodes

[quick-catton]

I JUST WOKE UP TO BARRY'S FUCKIMG BUMBLE AD WHAT IN THE FRESH FUCK

[cosmicbeastie]

i just had another job interview scheduled for tomorrow, which on one hand yay! but on the other hand *remembers the horrors of That interview from a couple weeks back* yikes.

[theoneandonlysun]

Heya sun, Watcha doin'? *Sunny said with a smile* I hope your doing well!

(my boi just wants to talk 😔)

Uh... fine? I think...?

[bojackhorsemanobviously]

Bojack took deep breaths trying to keep himself calm while his blood pressure was skyrocketing.

stay stay calm. you can deal with this you're too old to be yelling at kids, deep breaths, deep breaths you got this.

god i wish i had a bottle of vodka right now.

". you're being a really shitty friend, Stanley, have you.. ever considered his point of view? He doesn't have a father, his mother is a hooker that let men use and abuse her, he has assholes online acting like he's ugly trash just for being fat. my costar had to constantly deal with body shaming because her manager leaked her nuds.. do you have any idea what body shaming does to you? To have tabloids/ random strangers flashing cameras just to point and laugh at how you gained a couple of pounds?

do you have any idea how it feels to look at your body without feeling revulsion . I just I can't I can't .. .

".. what do you want od you want me to just abandon him is that what you want stanley would that make you happy?"

Hey, stan I want you to know I hear you and I SEE YOU , if you ever need someone to just vent about whatevers on your mind you can talk to me (bojackhorsemanobviously)

You're the one that's hurt, dude. I'm here to help YOU. Especially if Cartman gets to be too much lol

@bojackhorsemanobviously

[arolesbianism]

Thinks oh so hard abt the spiraling upwards clan founders, especially the birchclan founders. Silly lil kitties who's pasts are drenched in blood with the primary regret of not drawing it sooner

[pangur-and-grim]

So... Since cats usually develop immunity to the cat-specific coronavirus that causes FIP, does that mean that Belphie will now be immune to FIP, assuming he fully recovers? It doesn't sound like the original disease causes flare-ups. (Glad he's doing better, btw! I went through his tag chronologically, and seeing how fast he declined over the last ~6 pages was SCARY.)

Belphie has a great chance of recovering without relapse!

FIP can present in a few different ways, depending on which part of the body it targets. wet FIP, which is what he had, make the cat balloon up with straw-coloured liquid. it's painful, and it kills the fastest, but it's also the most responsive to treatment.

neurological FIP is the worst to treat, and has the highest likelihood of the cat relapsing after treatment, just because it's hard to get the drugs through the brain/blood barrier.

in contrast, the vet running the South Tower Animal Hospital medical trial said that he'd never seen a wet FIP cat not be cured by treatment. and Belphie's already TRANSFORMED! I fully expect him to live a long and healthy life (and in fact, I insist on it).

[rowarn]

hi im rowan and im here to talk to u about

soft-hearted, concerned!simon with a size kink.

afab!reader, no prns, size kink, cunnilingus, fingering, possessive!simon for flavor <3 MDNI

on one hand, he's obsessed with the size difference. like OBSESSED. the second he set his eyes on u he was enamored. u were so sweet and seemed so, so fragile next to the battle hardened soldier. you had ur first date, ur second, third and so on.

all he could think about was spreading u open beneath him on his bed, his sheets soaked in your arousal, his pillow clenched in your firsts as you trembled underneath his touch.

he rubbed himself raw imagining pinning you down and squeezing is fat, heavy cock into the tiny, tight clutch of your pretty cunt. he nearly drooled all over himself when he was daydreaming about it in the middle of the day.

he always knew he had a bit of a thing for size differences between him and his partner but with you...it was out of control.

but on the other hand...he was so worried about hurting you. it would be such a big stretch to fit all of him — would you even be able to fit every inch? he doubted it. at least not without some tears and winces and that was not part of his fantasy.

if you were gonna cry it was going to be from how hard he made you cum. not bc his too big cock hurt you ):

so when he finally had you naked and at his mercy, he was at a crossroads; indulge his fantasy and fuck you open or let the overly concerned, protective side of himself win?

unfortunately for you, the concern won.

it took so long for him to finally give you his cock. for weeks he stuck to eating you out, fingering you, letting you give him handjobs — never blowing him!! u might choke ): poor thing.

he was working you open methodically as the days went by. stuffing you full of his tongue, one finger, two, and finally three. you'd tremble, gush, and cry as he made you cum over and over day after day to make you nice and malleable for when he finally would sink into you.

you were nearly in tears when you approached him one evening, dressed in one of his old army t-shirts that you had pulled out of the abyss of his closet.

you so sweetly requested that he finally fuck you, that you were tired of only getting his mouth and fingers. you wanted all of him.

simon got hard so fast he was worried about the blood rushing south too fast.

that was all he needed before you were trapped underneath his behemoth form. and before you knew it, you were creaming around his cock right at the base the second he sunk into you.

the obsession he had immediately grew into an addiction <3

[l0stvegas]

About twoish years ago I had this completely inscrutable dream where there was a new cardinal direction (like north, east, west, south) that suddenly started existing and was basically east but on a different directional plane. The name of the dimension/direction called “Crust”.

The way the Crust functioned was that the laws of physics changed where approximately 1 out of every 100 times something attempted to move east as relative to a compass, you’d accidentally cross into the Crust plane and be caught in a weird limbo dimension where your surroundings were a forever-looping snippet of whatever you last saw before entering the Crust. Think of how the infinite stairs in Super Mario 64 or how looping backgrounds in old cartoons like The Flintstones worked. Except, the further you descended into the Crust, the more your surroundings would gradually saturate and grow brighter until you were left with solid opaque white surroundings, and you would completely lose your sense of time and direction if you progressed too far.

This was an issue because the only way to escape the Crust was to move extremely fast westward and hope you could break “through” the crust back into regular reality, and you had to do so through the approximate point you entered the Crust. Some people would travel into the Crust for minutes or hours at a time not realizing they were in the Crust until they were inconveniently far from their starting point. There were even a few individuals who got presumably permanently lost in the Crust when they descended too far in to know how to navigate to their return point.

It got to a level where people in the dream were creating weird, deep-fried memes about how the Crust ruined their commute to work, which @/solsticeinstars and @/morrighancorbel on Twitter tried to make recreations of based on my description. There would be school classes cancelled because their teacher got Crusted and they couldn’t find a substitute in time, or truckers that went missing because they got Crusted while on their route and, tired from the road, didn’t realize they were in it until the point of no return.

I have nothing else to add this dream just haunts me and I needed to share it here

[redflagshipwriter]

Fast Car Chapter Two (of four)

masterpost

Was this guy for real? Jason nearly decided not to get in out of suspicion. Danny was one of the very few loose ends in his crime yesterday. He sort of figured that eventually Batman would find the driver he’d used to get a duffle bag of heads to the police station. He stalled. It had seemed like an acceptable risk, since he hadn’t shown the guy his face. The only information that the police should have been able to get was where he’d left and that he’d used one of his victim’s phones to call for a ride.

And yet Danny was waiting patiently at the curb for the Red Hood to get in. Wasn’t he scared?

He had been all over the news yesterday. Danny had to know.

‘Either he’s dumb as a box or he is one of the chillest people I’ve ever even heard of.’

Morbid curiosity got him into the car. Danny locked the door as soon as the door was shut– but it was clearly routine. He’d done that yesterday, right. Jason waited a moment before he remembered that Danny wasn’t going to pull out until he had his seatbelt on. He let out a laugh and buckled up. It was pretty cute, actually.

Now that he wasn’t so distracted, maybe he could make small talk. Danny pulled them out into the sparse early morning traffic with an expression of determined focus.

Jason cleared his throat. “You moved to Gotham recently?” he started with. Danny didn’t have the local speaking pattern.

Danny nodded. “For school,” he shared easily. “I’m in the sciences program at Gotham U’s south campus.”

…So he wasn’t the world’s biggest dummy. Jason sat there and contemplated how catastrophically chill a body would have to be to chit chat with a man who had killed like 20 people yesterday that he knew of. Why wasn’t Danny scared? What was his damage? 

‘There’s something really wrong with him,’ Jason thought, with no small bit of admiration. Way too late he commented, “That’s cool, man.”

“Thanks.” Danny seemed unbothered by his long delay in conversation. “You know, I had to go to that same police station this morning.”

Jason tensed. Was Danny making some kind of threat?

“They got a whole shitton of muffins and six quiches delivered,” Danny went on. He appeared to feel no sense of danger in the car.

‘Is he… Did he decide to inform on the police to me?’ Jason’s eye twitched. ‘I already knew that I’d have ruined their whole month but… This is kinda satisfying to hear, actually.’ He made a listening sound to prompt Danny to continue. He couldn't lie; he was intrigued.

“Yeah, they looked like total shit.” Danny was so blithe about it that it became surreal and hilarious. “Exhausted. But that’s not my business.” He crinkled up his nose. “Do you know what they tipped me for that?” He didn’t wait for Jason to go on. “Two dollars.” He made a big gesture with his left hand that took it off the steering wheel despite the fact they were mid turn. “That’s ridiculous! I drove halfway across town, waited for the place to open, carried an absurd amount up those stairs, and for two dollars.” He blew a disrespectful raspberry.

“Fuck the police,” Jason said sympathetically. 

Aight. He saw how it was. He mentally tabulated what was in his wallet and allocated a cool thirty dollars to Danny as a tip. For an informant, that was as cheap as bagged rice. Helluva value. He leaned back in the seat and it squeaked under his weight. “How’s Gotham been treating you?”

“Fine, fine,” Danny said absently. He switched lanes a little too abruptly. “Not that different from home, honestly. I don’t know why people are so dramatic about it.” He floored it to squeak through a yellow light.

Jason had the dawning suspicion that Danny had been on his best driving behavior yesterday. But- “Where is home?” It was more morbid curiosity. He kind of regretted that he was nearly to his stop. 

“Amity Park. Illinois.”

Jason winced. “My condolences.”

Danny laughed, high and sort of eerie now that Jason was really listening to it. It sent an  electric zing up his spine. “That’s what they always say.” He seemed to find it really funny. Way funnier than it should have been.

‘...What are the odds that this guy is one of the weird mutants they make in Amity?’ Jason resisted the urge to ask prying questions. Talia had told him to stay the fuck out of that area so that she didn’t have to rescue him from a government black site. It wasn’t his business and he didn’t have the luxury of the time to go and investigate every cute boy with a nice laugh who wanted to be an informant to the Red Hood.

It was with extreme regret that Jason recognized his stop coming up. He let out a sigh. The voice scramblers in his hood turned it to static. He watched the curb approach with disappointment. Danny made to pull in next to a dark shop. Jason glanced into the windows and caught the reflection of the last person he wanted to see. 

“Batmobile.” He sat up straight, alarmed. It was parked out of sight in an alley. Shit. Shit, of course Batman had tracked back the delivery driver that had brought him to the police building. Fuck. How was he going to get away on foot-

Danny jerked back into the street and hit the pedal to the floor. The engine made a scream of machine fear but holy hell did it accelerate. Jason yelled too and grabbed onto the door handle. He aimed wide eyes at Danny, uncomprehending. 

“Fuck Batman!” Danny yelled out his open window, and they were off.

Holy shit. Holy shit!

The batmobile turned on, the normally silent engine’s purr rearing up to a threatening growl as Bruce veered out onto the street in pursuit.

Danny took them down an alley and Jason sharply readjusted his assessment of Danny’s intelligence. “We can’t fit!” He yelled, trying to pull the brake. If they had to stop in the alley it was all over, Batman would block them off.

Danny slapped his hand away and barreled-

Jason blinked as they raced down the impossibly narrow alleyway. He bit his lip. He looked at the car again, recalculating.

No. No, it definitely didn’t fit. He leaned a little away from the window, extremely uncomfortable. He looked at just the right time to see the passenger mirror collide with a dumpster and slide through undeterred.

Ah. Alright, then. He made a “Fair enough” face and turned around to see that the batmobile was lifting up and doing some weird transformers bullshit to fit down the alleyway. They were gaining ground from Batman. “Sorry I tried to touch the controls,” Jason said, a bit late. He glanced down and realized that his hand stung where Danny had slapped it. He pulled it to his chest and rubbed at it, frowning slightly.

“No worries,” Danny said tersely. He hit the breaks and raked the wheel car to make a fucking pinpoint turn without slowing. Just like that, they were out of Batman’s direct line of sight. A solid inch of the inside of the car overlapped with a folding chair outside someone’s home.

Jason eyed Danny judgmentally.

“Wow, that was a close fit,” Danny said, extremely unconvincing. “We are lucky, huh.” He aimed the car at a wall and somehow ramped up. 

‘I think I might be sick.’

Jason decided that the best thing for him to do right now was to close his eyes and say nothing at all. If Danny wanted plausible deniability for his mutant powers, that was whatever. 

‘How did Batman know where I was going?’ He worked through the problem. ‘Did he hack Danny’s account? If not, someone sold me out.’

Just like that, Jason had a list of people to visit for the day. “D’you think you could drop me off at C street instead?” He felt the uncomfortable swooping sensation in his stomach that indicated they’d made some kind of move that should not exist off of a rollercoaster.

“Yeah, of course, sorry about this.” Danny sounded a little breathless. “Ah- don’t look.” He cackled.

…’He’s dodging Batman for his benefit, not mine,’ the penny dropped. Jason laughed out loud and then leaned forward to hold his head in his hands. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Danny was the perfect man. They drove for a while in silence before Jason managed to collect himself. “No worries,” he said through tears. “Hey, no sweat if it’s no, but can I get your number?”

Danny paused.

Oh, fuck. Jason cringed. “I'll leave mine and you can call me if you ever need me,” he corrected hastily. “No pressure.” He scribbled it on the back of a loose receipt in Danny's cupholder and left it, mortified but also glad he shot his shot.

[lookninjas]

I did want to add that two bodies have since been recovered from the water. Both men were working on the bridge at the time of the accident, and were found in a pickup truck (presumably belonging to one of the men).

Also, one of the survivors has apparently said that he was told to evacuate by first responders.

okay because I'm seeing some misinfo, here's the story on the Key Bridge collapse

What was the Key Bridge?

The Francis Scott Key Bridge (also called the Key Bridge, the Beltway Bridge, and the Outer Harbor Crossing) was steel-arch continuous-through-truss bridge spanning the Patapsco River south of the Baltimore Harbor. The bridge took 5 years to build and cost an estimated $145 million ($735 million in today's dollars). The full bridge project (including approaches) was 10.9 miles long, but the stretch over the Patapsco was 1.6 miles long and 4 lanes wide, and comprised a length of I-695, the Baltimore Beltway. It traveled between Hawkins Point and Dundalk, and in addition to the I-895 Harbor Tunnel was the primary way for Marylanders to cross from the Eastern Shore to the West. The bridge carried an estimated 11.5 million vehicles per year. There is a lane for ships to pass under the Key Bridge with enough clearance.

Was it structurally sound?

The bridge received its latest inspection in 2022 and received a 6/9 score, which is considered "fair" by federal standards. There was a concern with one of its columns, which was downgraded from a health index of 77.8 to 65.9, but it is not clear yet if this was one of the columns struck by the ship. In 1980 the bridge was struck by a different cargo ship which destroyed a concrete support structure, but the bridge itself was unharmed. There is as of yet no evidence that the bridge collapsed because of poor condition. Experts say the lesson to be learned is about the size and weight of modern cargo ships, and that the bridge was not to blame. Engineers have noted, however, that the bridge's piers lacked protective devices such as fenders.

What was the ship?

The MV Dali is a container ship flying the Singapore flag. It is owned by Grace Ocean Private Ltd. and operated by Synergy Marine Group Ltd. The ship is currently being chartered by Maersk, a Dutch shipping company. It was built in 2015 by Hyundai. The ship is 980 feet long and 157 feet wide. The ship's gross tonnage (its internal volume) is 95,128 tons (190,256,000 pounds). Its deadweight (the weight of cargo it can carry) is 116,851 tons (233,702,000 pounds). The ship was carrying 3,000 containers. The engine is a MAN-B&W 9S90ME putting out 41,480 kilowatts (55,626 horsepower).

Over its lifetime the Dali has been inspected 27 times, and only 2 faults were ever found. On June 27, 2023 the Dali was held in port in Chile due to an issue with the propulsion system. According to an inspector the pressure gauges on the heating system were "unreadable". The fault was fixed before the ship left port.

The Dali is crewed by 22 Indian nationals including 2 maritime pilots.

What happened?

The Dali arrived at the Port of Baltimore on March 23, 2024. At 12:44 AM on March 26, 2024 the Dali left port, beginning its journey to Colombo, Sri Lanka. At 01:26 AM the ship suffered a "complete blackout" and began to drift out of the shipping lane. It is not yet known what caused the electrical failure. The backup generator did not power the propulsion system. At around 01:26 AM the crew of the Dali sent a mayday distress call to the Maryland Department of Transportation (MDOT) informing them of the loss of power and that a collision with the Key Bridge was possible. The anchors were dropped as an emergency measure to attempt to slow or stop the vessel. At the request of one of the pilots traffic flow over the bridge was immediately halted. Black smoke was seen coming from the Dali, which experts believe was the result of the crew managing to restart the power system to regain some maneuvering capability.

At 01:28 AM the Dali, traveling at 8 knots (considered to be a fast speed) collided with a support strut beneath the Key Bridge's metal truss at the southwest end of the bridge. A Baltimore resident said he heard the collision and that it "felt like an earthquake". Emergency teams began receiving 911 calls at 01:30 AM, and the Baltimore Police Department were alerted at 01:35 AM. One of the officers present radioed that he was going to go onto the bridge to alert the construction crew as soon as a second officer arrived, but the bridge collapsed seconds later.

What was the damage?

The Key Bridge has completely collapsed. The metal truss relies on structural tension from the bridge itself to maintain its rigidity. As soon as one of the support columns was destroyed, the rest of the bridge quickly followed.

The damage to the Dali is reported as minimal. The ship was impaled by the bridge's structure above the waterline, but has maintained watertight integrity. The crew has not reported any water contamination from its 1.8 million gallons of marine fuel. 13 containers carrying potentially hazardous material were damaged, and are being inspected by a team of Coast Guard divers. At least 5 vehicles including 3 passenger cars and a cement mixer were detected underwater, but authorities do not believe they were occupied

Who was hurt?

The crew of the Dali reports no casualties, except one crewmember who was hospitalized for minor injuries. There was a crew of 8 construction workers on the Key Bridge filling in potholes. 2 were immediately pulled from the water by rescue crews, with 1 being rushed to emergency care and the other reporting minor injuries and refusing treatment. The hospitalized worker has since been discharged. 1 of those rescued was Mexican. The remaining 6 remain missing. Of those 6, 2 have been identified:

Miguel Luna from El Salvador

Maynor Yassir Suazo Sandoval from Honduras

Of the remaining 4, 2 are Guatemalan nationals. Neither have been identified, but the Guatemalan Foreign Affairs Ministry has stated that they were a 26-year-old from San Luis, Petén, and a 35-year-old from Camotán, Chiquimula. The other 2 are presumed to be Mexican.

Rescue Efforts

The Coast Guard was immediately deployed for search-and-rescue operations. Military Blackhawk helicopters were seen over the river. Rescue efforts were ended at 07:30 PM on March 26, 2024 due to darkness, fog, and cold temperatures. Rear Admiral Shannon Gilreath said "Based on the length of time that we've gone in the search, the extensive search efforts that we put into it, the water temperature -- at this point, we do not believe that we're going to find any of these individuals still alive". Recovery operations resumed at 07:30 AM on March 27, 2024 with all 6 workers presumed dead.

No divers have yet entered the water underneath the bridge. Supervisory Special Agent Brian Hudson of the FBI's Underwater Search and Evidence Response Team said "the debris field is pretty sizable and I know that’s why they’re hesitant to send divers down because some of the debris is still shifting, the heavy weight of the rocks". The FBI has deployed Remotely Operated Vehicles (ROVs) equipped with cameras and SONAR.

Aftermath

At 05:08 AM on March 26, 2024 Transportation Secretary Pete Buttegiege posted on X (formerly Twitter):

"I’ve spoken with Gov. Moore and Mayor Scott to offer USDOT’s support following the vessel strike and collapse of the Francis Scott Key bridge. Rescue efforts remain underway and drivers in the Baltimore area should follow local responder guidance on detours and response."

At 07:30 AM on March 27, 2024 President of the Maryland State Senate Bill Ferguson posted on X (formerly Twitter):

"Over 15,000 in the Balt region rely on daily operations at Port of Baltimore to put food on the table. Today, with Del. @LukeClippinger and colleagues representing Port, we are drafting an emergency bill to provide for income replacement for workers impacted by this travesty."

At around 09:40 AM on March 26, 2024 Maryland Governor Wes Moore and Baltimore Mayor Brandon Scott declared a State of Emergency to take effect at 10:30 AM March 26, 2024, and to last 30 days. Baltimore's Emergency Operations Plan was put into effect.

More than 1,000 personnel from the US Army Corps of Engineers (USACE) have been deployed to assist with clearing the debris and rebuilding efforts. President Joe Biden has pledged that the federal government will pay for the entire reconstruction of the bridge.

Jennifer Homendy, the chair of the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) has recovered the Dali's data recorder, and will be inspecting both the Key Bridge and the Dali to determine the cause of the crash and the collapse. She says the investigation could take up to 2 years to complete.

Was it intentional?

According to William DelBagno, head of the FBI's Baltimore field office: "There is no specific or credible information to suggest there are ties to terrorism in this incident".

Secretary of Homeland Security Alejandro Mayorkas said: "There are no indications this was an intentional act".

At least 3 people have been killed in accidents related to ships operated by Synergy in the past 6 years. In 2018 a person on board a Synergy ship in Australia was killed in an accident relating to the vessel's personnel elevator. In 2019 an officer aboard a Synergy vessel in Singapore fell overboard while performing maintenance. In 2023 at least one sailor was killed when a Synergy ship collided with a dredging ship in the Philippines. In the first two cases safety inspectors noted that proper safety procedures had not been adhered to.

Sources

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

[thesecondhandwoman]

A CLOSE CALL

Sevika x f!reader

Synopsis: Sevika was always used to being the saver, never the one saved. But when she went on a mission with you, and it suddenly went south, she experienced opposite roles for the first time.

Request: @veasvka 🤍

Sevika was used to danger. She’d built her life on it, thrived in it, and learned to fight her way out of any corner. Missions for Silco were usually straightforward: go in, get what he wanted, leave a mess behind. This time should have been no different.

It wasn’t.

The stolen shimmer was in their hands, but the ambush had been waiting. Fists, blades, and bullets tore through the warehouse as the fight escalated far beyond what Sevika anticipated.

And, for the first time in years, she hadn’t seen it coming.

It happened so fast that she didn’t realize at first. Her mechanical arm swung forward, pulverizing the face of some unfortunate bastard. Blood sprayed, her eyes locked on the next threat. But she didn’t see the man behind her, moving silently, blade raised high, aimed for the base of her neck.

She heard a shout—your voice—cutting through the chaos.

“Sevika!”

A split second later, she felt the impact. Not the blade piercing her skin, but the weight of your body hitting hers, followed by the sickening sound of steel cutting into flesh.

Her stomach dropped.

She spun just in time to catch you as you fell, the blade slipping free from your side. Blood poured from the wound, staining her gloves as she cradled you against her. “No,” she breathed, her voice shaking with fury and panic. “No, no, no.”

Your face twisted in pain, your hand clutching weakly at her vest. “Got you… covered,” you gasped, trying to smile.

“You idiot!” she barked, though her voice cracked. Her heart pounded as she pressed her hand against the wound, trying to staunch the bleeding. “You didn’t need to do that!”

The attackers were retreating now, frightened by her rage as her mechanical arm lit up with a menacing hum. But none of that mattered. Only you mattered.

“I couldn’t let them…” you choked, coughing weakly. “You’re too important.”

Sevika froze at your words, the weight of them crashing down on her like a tidal wave. “Stop talking,” she snapped, though her voice softened, her tone desperate. “Save your strength.”

You didn’t argue, but your hand found hers, squeezing weakly before your eyes fluttered closed.

The trip back to the Last Drop was a blur. Sevika carried you, her teeth gritted against the rising panic in her chest. Vander’s medics worked quickly, but they couldn’t hide the grim expressions on their faces as they fought to stabilize you.

She stayed by your side the entire time.

Hours passed, and the night crept on. Sevika sat in the corner of the room, her head in her hands, replaying the moment over and over. The sight of you falling, the sound of your pained gasp—it all gnawed at her. She’d faced death countless times, but the idea of your death? That was unbearable.

She should’ve protected you. That was her job, wasn’t it? She was the shield, the one who took the hits. But now? You’d taken one for her, and it made her feel hollow. Weak.

She glanced up at you, lying still in the bed, your breaths shallow but steady.

“You’re not allowed to leave me,” she muttered, her voice barely audible.

The next morning, you woke slowly, your body heavy and your side burning with pain. You blinked against the dim light, your head turning to see Sevika slouched in a chair beside you, her metal arm resting on the table, her flesh hand holding yours.

“Sevika?” you rasped.

Her head shot up, her eyes wide with a mixture of relief and anger. She leaned forward, gripping your hand tighter. “You’re awake,” she said, her voice rough with emotion.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice weak. “Hurts like hell, though.”

“Good,” she snapped, though the corners of her mouth twitched. “Serves you right for pulling a stupid stunt like that.”

You smiled faintly, your gaze softening as you looked at her. “You would’ve done the same for me.”

“That’s different,” she growled, pulling her hand away to rake it through her hair. “I’m supposed to protect you, not the other way around.”

“Sevika…” Your voice was gentle, but firm. “You’re not invincible. I wasn’t going to let you die.”

Her jaw clenched, her gaze dropping to the floor. “You don’t get it,” she said quietly. “I can’t…” She stopped, exhaling sharply. “I can’t lose you. Do you know what that would do to me?”

You reached out, your fingers brushing against her metal arm. “You didn’t,” you said softly.

Her shoulders sagged, her usual confidence stripped away. “This can’t happen again,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “I don’t care what happens to me, but you? I can’t—”

You squeezed her arm, silencing her. “We take care of each other,” you said firmly. “That’s what this is. That’s what we are.”

Sevika stared at you for a long moment before sighing heavily. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against the edge of your bed. “You’re too damn stubborn,” she muttered.

“Look who’s talking,” you teased, earning a small, shaky laugh from her.

She lifted her head, her expression softer now. “Just… promise me something,” she said. “No more heroics. Let me take the hits, okay?”

You hesitated before nodding. “Deal, but only in understandable circumstances .”

Slightly satisfied, Sevika leaned back in her chair, the tension in her body easing slightly. She reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with surprising tenderness.

“Get some rest,” she murmured. “I’ll be here.”

You gently smiled, giving a final nod before slowly closing your eyes and sinking back into slumber. And the only thing that was truly letting you rest was the fact that you knew she would be there when you woke up, like always.

[hoshifighting]

Producer!Woozi x Celebrity!Reader

— Synopsis: You and Woozi have admired each other's work for a long time. Now, he has the opportunity to produce an album with you. Working on an album for a worldwide artist like you brings him immense joy... and turn-ons. — WC: 4.8k — WARNINGS: Smut, studio sex (Universe Factory), oral (f.receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, clit stimulation, g'spot stimulation, aftercare, reader fangirling over Woozi shirtless in Ruby's M/V mentioned.

Your name is splashed across big screens from Times Square to the Grammy Awards. Music didn't just enter your life; it crashed in, loud and powerful, sweeping you off your feet. It became your everything. 

You went from singing in front of millions of people to strumming your guitar alone in a poorly illuminated room, lost in your own world. Music was your passion, your escape, and your purpose all rolled into one.

With that passion came endless opportunities. You were constantly on the move, traveling from one country to another, meeting people you once only dreamed of being in the same room with. You found yourself breathing the same air as your idols, sharing stages with legends. 

Friendships blossomed, some fast and fleeting, others deep and lasting. The world knew your name. Your songs played in every state, on every continent, bridging gaps between different cultures and bringing people together.

Those cultures left a mark on you too. 

You soaked in the richness of each place, each new experience shaping your music and your perspective. You remembered your early days, the hunger for inspiration, the late-night searches for new artists. 

One night, you stumbled upon a webcam live stream with a bunch of boys in a neon green melona room. You laughed and loved watching them, their energy infectious even through a screen. You became a fan, following their journey as you built your own.

But here's the thing about being a superstar: time is never on your side. Your schedule was always packed, and despite being in contact with some of the Seventeen members through DMs and mentioning your admiration for them in interviews, meeting them in person was a challenge. You were in Seoul for a tour once, and they appeared on your show, but there was never enough time to truly connect.

Now, after years of hectic schedules and fleeting encounters, you finally had a moment to breathe. You were working on a new album, and for the first time in a long time, you had the opportunity to switch things up. Your usual producers were fantastic, but this time, something different was calling you. An opportunity was waiting in South Korea, and it had your heart racing with excitement.

You, your manager, and the company representing the group had been in talks for months, working out the details. The goal was clear: to collaborate with Woozi, the musical genius from Seventeen, on your new album. 

When your team informed Woozi that you had just arrived at HYBE, his palms began to sweat. He never imagined he’d get to work with someone of your caliber. The fact that you specifically wanted to work with him made it all the more surreal.

As you walked through the HYBE building, your assistant and one of the staff members gave you a tour. You were almost giddy with excitement. The walls were lined with photos and awards, the air buzzing with creativity. When you finally approached the recreation area and spotted Woozi, his cheeks turned a shade of red. He was nervous, but seeing you smile so brightly at the sight of him sent a sense of relief through his system. 

You were genuinely happy to see him.

As you step into the recreation area and see Woozi standing there, your cheeks flush a deep red. You can’t contain your excitement. "Woozi, I'm so happy to see you," you say, extending a hand, unsure if a hug would be appropriate.

He senses your shyness, and, in a moment of genuine openness, he breaks through his own reserve and gives you an awkward hug. It's brief and a bit clumsy, but it’s sincere. As you pull away, you swear this is the happiest moment of your life.

"I’ve admired your work for so long," you say, your eyes sparkling with genuine admiration. "Your music is incredible."

Woozi shakes his hands in front of him, a shy smile spreading across his face. His long hair swings slightly as he responds, "Oh, no, really, it’s nothing compared to what you’ve done. I'm honestly just honored to be here with you."

You laugh softly, feeling a bit more at ease. "Are you kidding? I still remember hearing your solo for the first time and just being blown away."

Woozi's cheeks tint pink as he looks down, scratching the back of his head. "Thank you, that means a lot coming from you. I remember when we all watched your first big performance. We were in our green room, and we were all just in awe."

You grin, recalling that exact moment you first saw them. "I remember that! I was so inspired by you guys. It’s amazing how things come full circle, isn’t it?"

He nods, his eyes meeting yours with shyness "It really is. I never thought I’d get the chance to work with someone I looked up to so much." Woozi chuckles softly, breaking the silence. "By the way, I saw your post on Twitter about wanting to visit the Universe Factory—my studio."

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you cover your face with your hands. "Oh my God, you guys see my tweets? Oh nooo!"

He laughs, a sound that's both comforting and infectious. "Yeah, they're hard to miss," he admits. "And I may have received a few screenshots of your reaction from 'Ruby'." 

You gasp, mortified as memories of your tweets flood back. You remember typing frantically about needing a defibrillator when Woozi appeared shirtless in the music video. "Oh no, those tweets. I can't believe you saw those."

He’s grinning. "It's okay, really. It was kind of sweet to be honest. We all had a good laugh about it."

Peeking through your fingers, you sigh. "Well, now that my embarrassment is out in the open, I guess it’s only up from here, right?"

Woozi grins, a twinkle in his eye. "Absolutely. Besides, it’s nice to know we have mutual fans of each other’s work. It makes this collaboration even more special."

You nod, recalling how your fanbase and Seventeen’s had always gotten along so well. “Our fans really hit it off, didn’t they? It’s like they’ve been rooting for this collaboration all along.”

Woozi smiles and gestures for you to follow him. “Come on, let me show you the Universe Factory.”

Walking into his studio, you’re immediately struck by how incredible it looks. Purple lights cast a calming glow over the space, and the view from the windows is breathtaking. Everything, from the colors to the high-tech equipment, is perfectly arranged. You can tell he put a lot of effort into making this place special.

“Wow, Woozi, this is amazing,” you say, your eyes wide with admiration. “I always saw photos of your studio, but in person, it’s even better.”

“Thanks, but it’s just a studio.” Woozi’s shy smile returns, but there’s a sparkle in his eyes. “I wanted it to be just right for when you got here. I spent the whole week cleaning and moving things around. Even used some scented sprays.”

You laugh, feeling a snugness in your chest. “You didn’t have to go through all that trouble for me, but I appreciate it.”

He shrugs, his smile widening. “I wanted everything to be perfect.”

Woozi shows you some of the instrumentals he’s been working on, and they’re incredible. The beats blend seamlessly with the lyrics you sent him, and you can already hear the potential for something amazing. He’s practically buzzing with enthusiasm to hear how your voice will mesh with his music.

“Let’s get you in the recording room,” Woozi says, leading you to the booth.

You put on the headphones and glance through the glass at Woozi in the control room. As you start warming up your voice, he watches with a small smile. You can see him scoffing lightly, clearly amused by your funny warm-up techniques.

He presses the intercom button. “I’m definitely going to use that later.”

You sulk playfully, giving him a pout. “Come on, don’t make fun of me.”

He laughs, the sound filling the control room. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just cute the way you warm up.”

Rolling your eyes but smiling, you turn your focus to the paper in front of you. Woozi cues up the beat, and you start with a rough draft, feeling your way through the melody. Even in this initial take, Woozi can’t help but feel impressed. Your voice is powerful, yet it fits perfectly with the track.

You glance up occasionally, catching Woozi’s eyes. He gives you a thumbs-up, his appreciation evident even through the glass. As you continue, you find yourself getting lost in the music, and Woozi’s focus never wavers. When you finish, you look up to see him grinning widely.

“That was just the warm-up?” he says, pressing the button again. “I’m really excited to hear the final version.”

You laugh, feeling a rush of confidence. “Yeah, just the warm-up. Wait till you hear the real thing.”

Woozi nods, eyes gleaming with joy. “I can’t wait. Let’s do this.”

You start to sing for real now, fully immersed in the music. The lyrics flow smoothly, and your voice dances effortlessly over the instrumentals. When it comes to a tricky melisma, you frown slightly, pausing to ask Woozi through the intercom;

"Which tone should I use for this part?"

Woozi, equally focused, listens intently as you demonstrate two different versions. Both sound amazing to him, and he takes a moment to think. He taps his chin thoughtfully before pressing the button. "Try the second one, but start a half-step higher and then slide down smoothly."

You nod, absorbing his suggestion. You take a deep breath and try it his way. The moment you hit that melisma, sliding down effortlessly, the note hangs in the air. Woozi’s eyes light up, and he gives you an enthusiastic thumbs-up from the control room.

As you're in the middle of recording, Soonyoung suddenly appears in the studio, his presence bringing an unexpected burst of energy. You catch sight of him through the glass and wave enthusiastically, a big smile spreading across your face. Soonyoung returns the gesture, his excitement palpable even from a distance. He settles on the couch behind Woozi, watching the two of you work with keen interest.

Woozi presses the intercom button and gives you a nod. "Try going a bit higher for the adlibs."

You nod and sing the section, hitting the high notes while looking at Woozi for confirmation. He listens intently, his gaze dark in focus. “You did so good. That was perfect.”

You can hear Soonyoung’s voice from the back. “He never praises us like that.”

Woozi turns in his chair, giving Soonyoung a deadly glare. 

Soonyoung, unphased, grins and stretches as he stands up. “Alright, alright. I know when I’m not wanted,” he says dramatically, walking toward the door. Just as he’s about to leave, he pauses and turns back. “But after you’re done recording, we’re taking you to dinner Y/N. No excuses.”

You give him thumbs up. Feeling the warmth of their camaraderie. Woozi shakes his head but smiles, turning back to you. 

“Ignore him. Let’s finish this up. You’re doing great.”

After skipping through some tracks, you find yourself sitting in Woozi's incredibly comfortable chair, fiddling with his equipment. The buttons, dials, and sliders are all so intriguing, and you can’t help but feel like a kid in a candy store, discovering new settings and features.

Woozi watches you from a few feet away, arms crossed, a smile playing on his lipsㄧHe knows you’re no stranger to studios and equalizers, but he loves seeing the joy in your eyes as you explore his setup like it’s the coolest thing in the worldㄧHe wonders if your producers ever let you have this much hands-on control.

“Hey, Woozi, how do you tweak the master mix settings here?” you ask, looking up from the console.

He steps forward, moving behind you. His arms come to rest on either side of the chair, effectively caging you in as he leans over to type on the keyboard. 

“You just need to go into this menu,” he says, his voice low and calm. He types swiftly, his fingers dancing over the keys. “Then, adjust the settings here. See?”

You nod, trying to focus on his explanation, but the closeness is overwhelming. You can feel the warmth of his body, his head so close to yours. 

It’s hard to concentrate when you’re not even breathing.

His voice is soft and steady, his breath warm on your skin. You watch his hands move expertly, typing commands and making adjustments with practiced ease. Your heart is pounding so loudly, you’re sure he can hear it.

“And here, you can add some reverb” he continues, “See how that changes the sound?”

No, not when he’s this near.

You nod, feeling a bit dazed. He tells you to try it yourself, and you reach for the adjustment, your hand hovering uncertainly over the controls. Woozi lets go of the mouse and places his hand over yours, guiding it to lower and raise the equalizer. His skin is soft and warm against yours, and the contact almost makes you melt on his chair.

“Like this,” he murmurs, gently moving your hand with his. “Just a little adjustment here and there.”

You can hardly concentrate on the settings, your mind fixated on the sensation of his hand over yours. 

You turn your face slightly toward his, and he looks at you, the proximity between you almost intolerable.

Your eyes lock, and for a moment, the world outside the studio fades away. His gaze is intense, filled with something that makes your breath catch in your throat. Woozi’s hand squeezes yours lightly.

You can feel your pulse quicken. His eyes flicker to your lips for a brief second before meeting your gaze again. The moment stretches, neither of you moves, both caught in the electric current that seems to have taken over the room.

Finally, Woozi clears his throat, breaking the spell but not the connection. "There," he says softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "You’ve got it."

As you try to focus on adjusting the settings, Woozi leaves your hand on the side of yours, allowing you to make the changes yourself. You manage to make the adjustments, and as the sound fills the room, Woozi's voice breaks through the silence. "That's it. You're doing great." he praises.

You swear if he praises you again like that, you’re going to fucking wet his chair. You don’t even notice that you’re biting your bottom lip, too lost in the horniness.

Woozi’s words echo in your mind as you try to focus on the task at hand, but it's hard to concentrate with the way his body looks in the black shirt he's wearing. The fabric clings to him in all the right places, emphasizing his toned physique.

Every movement he makes with his hands, seems deliberate and calculated, and you can’t tear your eyes away.

You force yourself to push the distracting thoughts aside, but it's a losing battle.

Your gaze remains fixated on his hands as he places them on the border of the desk, supporting his body. His shoulders brush against the back of your head, and you can feel his presence looming over you. It’s as if he knows exactly what’s passing through your mind.

He brushes a hand over your shoulder, the sensation lingering even after he presses it between his hands in a gentle massage. You feel his lips tentatively brush against the corner of yours.

Caught off guard, you melt into his touch, your fingers intertwining with his as you lean into the kiss. His lips are soft against yours, a perfect match to the warmth of his touch. But when he catches you melting against his hand, he doesn't pull away. Instead, he turns the chair to face him, his hand sliding behind your neck to pull you closer.

His kiss deepens, and you respond eagerly, your hands sliding to each side of his face before tangling in his hair at the back of his neck. The kiss is desperate, as if you’ve both been holding back.

But when you finally break apart, gasping for breath, you realize that you can’t resist any longer. You get up from the chair, his hands desperately grab your waist, pulling your bodies together 

The way he holds your waist makes your tank top bunch up between his fingers, his palms feeling your belly's bare skin. You whimper against his lips, "Hmm, Woozi..."

He pulls back slightly, "Jihoon," he corrects gently, "Call me Jihoon."

Your stomach flutters at the intimacy of calling him by his real name. "Jihoon," you repeat softly, savoring the sound.

He smiles, a soft, almost shy smile that makes your heart skip a beat. Then he leans in again, kissing your cheek, your jaw, and your neck. Each touch of his lips sends you on cloud nine, making you arch against his chest, your hands gripping his bicep for support.

"Jihoon," you murmur again, the name feeling more natural on your lips each time.

His hands move up your sides, sliding under your tank top, his fingers warm against your skin. He pulls the fabric up, and you lift your arms, allowing him to remove it completely. The cool air of the studio contrasts with the heat of his touch, making your nipples harden.

He takes a moment to admire you, his eyes roaming over your body "You're beautiful," he whispers.

You blush, feeling a little shy under his gaze. "You too," you reply, reaching up to touch his face, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw.

He smiles and pulls you closer, his lips finding yours once more. This kiss is deeper, more urgent, as if he's trying to pour all his feelings into it. You respond with equal fervor, your hands exploring the planes of his chest, and the muscles of his back.

Jihoon’s hands move to your waist again, his fingers brushing the waistband of your jeans. He pauses, looking at you for permission. You nod, your breath hitching in the process.

He unbuttons your jeans, sliding them down your hips and letting them pool at your feet. You step out of them, standing before him in just your underwear. He takes a moment to admire you again, his eyes dark with desire, a little hidden under his long bangs.

You reach for the hem of his shirt, lifting it up and over his head. He helps you, tossing it aside. Your hands explore his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his milky skin, the steady beat of his heart.

This time, his hands roam more freely, exploring every inch of your body. His touch is gentle, yet possessive, as if he's trying to memorize every curve, every contour. After all, he doesn't know when he'll be able to touch you like that again. That is, if there is a next time.

You respond in kind, your hands moving over his body, savoring the feel of his muscles flexing under your fingertips.

He guides you toward the couch, his lips never leaving yours. You lie down, pulling him with you, your bodies molding together perfectly. He kisses his way down your neck, your chest, his lips leaving a trail of saliva in their wake.

"Jihoon," you moan, your hands tangling in his hair as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking gently. The sensation numbs your mind, making you arch against him.

Jihoon makes you relax on his couch, but you suddenly become very aware when his fingers slide your panties to the side, moistening his fingers with your lubrication. He opens his eyes to watch you squirm as your pussy sucks his finger inside without effort. His cold finger fits perfectly inside you, and you can feel him teasing to put another one. You clap a hand over your mouth to stifle your moans.

He laughs softly, taking your hand off your mouth. "The studio is soundproof. You can moan as loud as you want."

You mentally thank him because with his fingers now perfectly entering and leaving you, a loud moan escapes your mouth, and the sound of your wet pussy isn't discreet. You're loving the intense gaze he has on you, like you're about to be devoured. He tries to kiss you, but you can only moan as he fingers you.

Jihoon curls his fingers on your g'spot, repeating the motion again and again. You let out a strangled moan, squirming under his touch. "Don't do that, or I'll mess up your sofa," you warn, your voice shaky with pleasure.

He looks at you from under his bangs, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I don't care about the sofa," he murmurs, pressing a hand on your lower belly to intensify the curl of his fingers.

The added pressure makes you scream, "Please, please!"

Jihoon smirks, his fingers moving faster inside you. "Please what? Tell me what you need," he demands, his voice commanding.

"Please, Jihoon, I need more," you gasp, your body arching against his hand.

He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "More of what? My fingers? My mouth?" he asks, his tone teasing.

"Both," you whimper, feeling desperate for more of his touch.

Jihoon chuckles, his lips brushing against your ear. "Greedy, aren't you? But I'll give you what you want," he promises, his fingers curling and pressing against your g'spot with relentless precision.

You cry out, your body trembling. "Jihoon, I'm going to—"

"Do it," he whispers, his calm raspy voice making you bite your bottom lip. "Come for me."

Your hands clutch at the couch as Jihoon's head moves from above you to between your legs. The moment his tongue touches your clit, you can't hold back, and you come almost immediately. 

He stops for a moment, just to admire the sight of you arching your back on his couch, his fingers deep inside you, all wet as you roll your hips on them, moaning in his studio, naked. He never thought it would happen, but he isn't complaining.

You discover he's stronger than you thought when he holds your hips down to keep you in place before he devours your pussy. You roll your eyes at the sensitivity and the sight of his fangs tickling your skin, making you giggle between moans. 

The scene is completely sinful. You prop yourself up on one elbow and hold his hair up to see his face, flushed but with closed eyes, all concentrated on giving you pleasure. You find it incredibly cute, and you can't help but praise him.

"Jihoon, you're doing so good," you murmur, your voice trembling. "You're so focused, it's amazing."

In response, he sucks your clit inside his mouth, making you pull his hair a little. He hisses softly, and you quickly apologize. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

He looks up at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "It's okay," he says, his voice slightly rough. "I like it."

You can't help but moan louder as he resumes his attention to your clit. His fingers continue their relentless rhythm inside you, and you feel the pressure building again.

"Jihoon, please," you gasp, your hips bucking against his hold.

You gasp, and Jihoon stops, making your head fall back as you whine, your orgasm interrupted. He kneels on the couch, lowering his sweatpants and underwear to his thighs. You shake your head, saying, "I want you to take it all off."

He smiles, obliged, then comes completely naked over you. You spread your legs for him, wide, and he slides his cock between your folds, eliciting a whine from you. Still supporting yourself on your elbow, you grab his hair, pulling it slightly, earning a moan from him.

As your tongues wrap around each other, his cock slides inside you, and you open your mouth in a silent moan, your back plopping on the couch. He moans at the sensation of your gummy walls wrapping his cock, sucking him in welcomely. He also smiles, finding your reaction endearing.

Jihoon rolls his hips slowly, letting you adjust to the fullness of his cock. The slow stimulation draws moans from your lips, and you gasp, "Not only do you make amazing music, but you fuck so damn good too."

Jihoon lets out a genuine laugh, his breath warm against your skin. He hides his face in the crook of your neck, so shy, and you pull him back, wanting to see his eyes. He glances at you, amusement shining in his gaze.

"You really know how to flatter a guy," he chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

You laugh with him, the sound mingling with the intimate atmosphere around you. "It's true," you say, your voice lighter. 

Jihoon shakes his head, still smiling, but the moment of levity shifts as he feels your walls tighten around him. His smile fades into a look of intense pleasure, his face contorts, and he starts to moan, the sound vibrating through you.

"Oh, God," he groans, his hips picking up a rhythm that makes your breath hitch. "You feel so good."

The sounds of skin slapping, your moans, and the low hum from the computer rendering the music become the backdrop to your intense session with Jihoon. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, and your hair spreads wildly across the couch. He can feel your wetness around his cock, spreading to his thighs and the couch. You brace yourself with one hand on the couch's arm, your lips plump and sensitive from the kisses and bites.

Jihoon closes his eyes, focusing solely on the sensation of your pussy. If he keeps looking at how much pleasure you're experiencing, he might come too soon. But you can already sense his cock throbbing inside you.

"Open your eyes," you urge him, catching on.

He opens them, sulking a bit, and you give him a devilish smile. You lick your fingers, sliding them down your body to circle your clit, doubling your pleasure and his. His mouth falls open at the sight.

"Fuck, nooo..." he mumbles, watching your every move.

You revel in the sight of his abs flexing, showing that his orgasm is near. Sensing his impending climax, Jihoon pulls out, giving himself a moment to regain control. When he's ready, he slides back in, making you arch your back and curl your toes, triggering your orgasm instead.

You smile at his audacity, and he grins, seeing that his tactic worked. "F-fuck you… I'm cumming, Jihoon," you warn, closing your eyes as the pleasure builds.

He speeds up his hips, making you stop breathing for a second before a deep moan escapes from your chest. You feel yourself clenching and unclenching around him, your body shuddering as you reach your peak. Panting hard, Jihoon pulls out just in time, spilling his cum on your belly as he strokes his cock. His body trembles, and his eyes lock with yours, his bangs falling over his forehead.

Jihoon takes a long look at your spent body, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. "How about a nap before dinner?" he suggests softly.

You close your eyes and nod, feeling the exhaustion settling in. "Right..." he murmurs, getting up from the couch.

You miss the warmth of his body immediately and let out a small whine. He chuckles, "I'm coming back," he assures you as he grabs a box of Kleenex and brings some tissues to clean you up. Gently, he wipes your belly and between your legs, his touch tender.

"I'm glad we finished some songs," he teases, his eyes twinkling. "You don't look like you could continue... at least not today."

You scoff, too tired to come up with a witty response. Jihoon starts dressing you, carefully slipping your top back on, your panties, and leaving your jeans off so you can nap comfortably. Once you're settled, he dresses himself quickly.

From the corner of the studio, he fetches a thin blanket draped over a poltrone. He covers you with it and then lays down beside you, pulling you close.

"You really wore me out," you murmur, a hint of amusement in your voice.

He grins, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Likewise," he says. "But it was worth it."

You let out a contented sigh, feeling more relaxed than you had in a long time. "I can't wait to hear how the songs turn out," you confessed, your voice growing dreamier with each passing moment.

Jihoon hummed in agreement, his fingers resuming their soothing motions on your back. "Me too," he murmured. "But for now, let's just enjoy this."

And so you did. Wrapped in each other's arms, you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, you snuggle into him, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling you towards sleep. 

[robiinurheart33]

Ok ok Johnny but he can’t accept the fact that people love him?

First girlfriend. Went south real fast and realised he was gay.

First boyfriend. Was bi-curious. First heartbreak too.

Second boyfriend. Only wanted him for his body. Self explanatory.

Third boyfriend. Way too emotionally unavailable, felt like they weren���t even dating at a point. Turns out he already has a partner.

You get the gist.

At a very young age, Johnny was aware of his unfortunate personality. School fights, family scoldings, bedroom sobbing, it’s all just a blur to him now. It’s not like he had the worst life out there, no. But he can’t shake the fact that he can’t really remember anything about his childhood. The trauma stuck though, unfortunately.

He could never really seem to shake off that “unloveable” blanket on his shoulders.

It’s not that bad, in retrospect. His friends like him, sure. They tolerate him. He knows he’s loud, he knows he’s brash, he’s a lot to deal with! He understands. So every once in a while, he’ll just…back off. Leave everyone alone and just spend some time alone. The horrors do get to him when he’s alone in his room, clutching the fabric of his shirt and trying to get ahold of his breathing, but it’s basically nothing to what everyone else has to endure! He’s selfish, he knows it already, always needy, always wanting. This is the least he can do to make sure that his loved ones aren’t tipped over the boiling point and actually leave him for good.

He doesn’t know what to do with himself at times.

Then he meets ghost.

Powerful, strong, admirable Ghost. He blew his fucking lid. He’s even bigger than the rumours suggest. He’s professional, clean. He’s everything that Soap wishes to be.

He’s jealous right off the bat. How could he not be?

Honestly, he feels a bit bad for the guy at the start. Soap’s laying it on thick with the touching and the questions. He’s obviously fucking with him a bit, bit to be fair he’s not really doing much to stop him either. As time goes on, it becomes a weird sort of admiration/jealousy thing. He still is jealous of Ghost, but not to an extreme extent that he could be.

Ghost is another very peculiar case, one that Soap doesn’t seem to mind prodding. After a few missions together, he could see why he was so infamous. But still, Ghost wasn’t pushing back. Has anyone done this to him before? Why was he just letting this happen? Ghost might find him weird, sure, but he’s the most curious disturbing motherfucker soap’s ever met.

The army isn’t exactly a place to find someone to get their dick wet, homophobes around the corner at every turn. Soap’s just accepted it as part of life now, not really wanting to think much on it but having that fact lurk at the back of his mind. It’s a bit depressing, sure, to not have anyone get to know his actual self, but then again he was sure that anyone who truly got to know him wouldn’t talk to him ever again. If it’s not the gay thing, it’s the army thing. If its not the army thing, it the personality thing. Whatever. John’s gotten used to it.

However, though some unexplainable force (the SAS and Price), Soap and Ghost had become some sort of dynamic duo now. They’d fought together, lost together, gone through some of the most horrific weathers known to man, and they’d both survived under some miracle. Well, soap survived. He never doubted ghost would.

He got very close though. Way too close for Soap’s liking. They were in some fuck-ass country upside down the earth, down to his last mag and ghost clipped in the shoulder. They were hauling ass just- away. They didn’t know when exfil would get there, or where. Their main objective was just to survive. Ghost was making a very vulnerable wheezing sound from his throat and Soap’s gun was overheating, burning though his gloves.

“Soap- Sargent.” Ghost whispered, somehow always remaining calm in the most chaotic situation Soap’s been in so far. Either that, or he’s just really fuckin tired.

“No’ now, L.T, tryna get us to safety.”

“Soap, leave me behind.”

“What? Listen, I’ve got no time for your stupid heroism crap, okay? Just- shut up.”

“MacTavish, im serious. I have nothing waiting for me. I’ll be okay. Just go. Stay safe.”

“Whot the hell did i just say?” He snapped, turning towards him. “I’ve go’ no time for this. You’re coming wit me whether you like it or not.” Soap jabs a finger into his chest, leaning in close until he’s sure Ghost can see the faintest scar on his right eyebrow from screwing around with a razor with his friends, trying to give himself a eyebrow slit.

“You’ve got me, haven’t ya? You’ve got Price, and the people on your team are counting on you. I’m counting on you. So you can die somewhere else, in the bumfuck a’ nowhere, but you’re not allowed to die today, now. Ya hear me?”

Like this, gunpowder and dust making his nose itchy, looking intensely at Ghost to make sure his point is drive home, there’s a look in his eyes that soap thinks he’s never seen before. He- he kinda looks like-

How Soap looks at Ghost.

With admiration.

Oh.

So, yeah. They ran out of there on the air of their asses, Soap laughing as the final hits of adrenaline pulses his heart, Ghost leaning against him with the same look in his eye, and they’ve never exactly been the same after that.

Soap chalked it off as it being in the heat of the moment kinda thing, but he’s been consistently catching Ghost’s eye staring at him from a distance away, just staring, with that strange look in his eye. Not always with the same emotion, Soap guesses, but still. It’s close enough. He doesnt know what’s happening, or what he did, but something changed. And it’s driving him insane. It’s not that Ghost wasn’t already friendly in his own weird ghost way, but now he’s being friendly in a normal way.

It’s so weird.

He’ll be waiting at the gun range for Soap like he knows he’d appear there, toss him an apple when he feels peckish, slap his hand away when he needs to change bandages muttering something about him not doing it properly. It’s weird, and it’s nice, and it’s making soap feel all itchy and hot. he can’t even scratch himself anymore as a soothing tick, Ghost will just slap his hand away and grumble a “stop that.”

It’s weird, and soap can’t help but enjoy it.

He feels a bit selfish, feeling like he’s somehow taking advantage of ghost’s kindness, but for what? He’s feeling guilty but what exactly is he being selfish about? Maybe a mental checkup is in order, he’s losing his mind a bit. They’re friends, that’s all. It’s not…that unheard of that ghost would have friends, isn’t it? He should feel honoured to be his…fist? Again, Soap doesn’t know a lot about him.

Time passes. He dips his toes in guerrilla warfare for the first time, can’t say he’s a fan. Been backstabbed, shot, and survived. Hes earned his nickname, and sticks by it. (Hah) Though thick and thin, Ghost’s been there throughout it all. An angel guiding him to the churches, a leader who he would follow to the pits of hell, a friend when he needed one. After all that, the questions just never seemed to slow down. About his family, himself, his hobbies… to keep him awake, to pass the time, just whenever. Mostly Soap would get grumbles and short answers, proper sentences if he’s in the mood (which is all the time) or drunk enough. He’s flustered under all the attention and he knows it, itching beneath the helmet and the layers of armour. Soap is brash, and loud, and a little bit of a pyromaniac. He knows it. He’s fine with it. All jagged edges, no slowing down in sight. He doesnt know what to do with the change coming. He does the only thing he knows to do. He runs. After all of it is said and done, with makarov in the streets now, not much is to be done other than waiting for further instruction.

Applies leave for a few days, rented a airbnb online, have some alone time. Reset. Easy. Simple. Hes done this all his life. But when he was just about to slip out, Ghost suddenly appeared right in front of him.

“Gah- Jesus, fuck, ghost. What’s wrong?”

“You’re leaving.”

“Yeah, I am. You signed off on the papers.”

“Why?”

“Just…some time. To myself.”

“Is that it?”

“…yeah?” What else does he want me to say?

Ghost looks like he.. squirms a bit, which is weird. Ghost doesn’t squirm.

“Just… the countryside. And stuff.” This is the worst casual conversation he’s ever had with Ghost.

“Um… i got you something.” Then he’s holding something out.

“Huh? Really- this is a rock.” What the fuck.

“It’s a rock from Las Almas.”

“You… kept a rock. From Las Almas. What, you couldn’t have stopped by an actual gift shop just around the corner? I think i saw one right around where i found your knife lodged into-”

“-You done yet?” He snaps.

“Apparently not, sir. You wanna explain the rock?” Soap’s being a bitch.

“Just that… you’re going to be alone… and. Makarov.”

“It’s a legitimate place, ghost. you wont find anyone there.”

“Not just that, it’s like-” He groans slightly and scratches the back of his head. “You’re going to be alone, and the last time you were alone..”

Oh.

“It’s just a reminder that like, I wasn’t going to give it to you this soon but, i was there. With you. You weren’t truly alone, johnny. And.. you’re going to be alone now. Actually alone. And i just….its. I’m here. At Redhill. I’m going to be here. You know where to find me.”

You’ve got me, haven’t ya?

Oh shit.

Soap doesn’t know what to say. He can feel the tip of his ears burning, pricking down his cheeks and flush down his neck. He doesnt know how to stand properly, what to say, how to think. Because everything he;s thinking right now should not be applied to his lieutenant.

This doesn’t mean anything, right? It doesn’t change anything. It’s still the same. Soap knows that Ghost cares about him. He’s his Sargent. He’s his Sargent. But not in that way. They’re friends. The rock from Las Almas. He’s fine. They’re fine. It’s just like the rock is a physical manifestation and real evidence that Ghost may or may not like him. Jesus, he shouldn’t think like that. He’s too quiet. He should say something. His lips twitch.

“Thank you.” THAT’S IT?? SAY MORE.

“I’ll know where to look, then.” Soap gives the most half flustered, half assed smile he’s ever given to anyone. He cant even begin to imagine how he looks right now. His heart pulls. Ghost looks away. He feels like he’s going to be swept off his feet in a bad (good) way.

“Right then.” He clears his throat, disappearing down the corner of the hallway. Soap gapes as he stares after him. What was that? What was him? What? He looks down at the heavier-than-it should-look rock in his sweaty palms, and swallows.

This doesn’t change anything. They’re still working together. They’re the lieutenant and Sargent of the 141 Taskforce. He’s fine. They’re fine.

Everything is okay.

[lellarps]

Oh, she wanted him to dwell on matters? Alexander's intention had been to shield this moment from the storm of his thoughts.

Well, there were a thousand ways to deflect or evade, and he'd mastered most of them. But perhaps it was the directness of her question—so rare, so genuine—that disarmed him. Or maybe it was the memory of the last time he'd brushed her aside and the outcome had been upsetting.

The warm sharing of her mantle was quite an extra too.

"War and lives" he said at last.

Short, clipped words, but they carried the weight of unspoken burdens. Alexander had never been skilled at articulating his worries, not when it came to be a matter of heart rather than of war table

It was even harder when things seemed to flash through his mind, one after the other.

"And my mother... and family."

He paused, as if unsure how to give things away.

Then, another thought crossed him.

"I'm thinking of sending her back to the countryside in a week or two," he added.

He did not know why he had added the last part— were he to properly think about it, he would not say a word. First, because he felt guilty for wishing to send his mother away like that, especially considering her age and health.

And then.... there was Isobel. What would she think of him? That he cast away those he couldn’t control? That when a woman became too difficult, he banished her like an unwanted courtier?

Alexander’s lips parted as though to offer some explanation, but the words faltered. Instead, his eyes sought hers, searching for understanding, or perhaps, for absolution.

@rowan-revelry

Alexander's white cloak joined the snow, nearly vanishing against it;

and Isobel opened up her dark, fur-lined one, draping it over both of them. Sitting shoulder to shoulder, wrapping an arm around him, and placing a kiss on his red nose in return. Stroked his upper arm, where she could reach. "Mmm," she agreed with a faint smirk. "I am aware." He looked exhausted. Her thoughts strayed to his mother again, but maybe that was a cut too close to the heart even for this private, shielded moment. "...what weights are nipping at your heels?" She settled on, instead of launching into yet another one of her long-winded monologues. She did tend to go at it once she begun, and perhaps it left very little space for someone as tongue-tied as Alexander was.

@lellarps

[scarletemeterio]

Hello! Can I ask for ekko with an reader who confessed to him thrice (and thrice rejected) and then he finally falls hard for them? With a happy ending, thank you!

(kind of like she fell first he fell harder trope)

Let Me Love You (Ekko x Reader)

Warnings: some cursing Genre: angst, hurt/comfort Word count: 2.3k Reader has no set pronouns!

The first time was the hardest of them all. You’d muster up the courage to confess your feelings for him, knowing very well that it could go south.

“I have something to tell you,” you uttered. He gave you a worried look, noticing that there was a hint of desperation in your voice. You were in his so-called office, working on something that didn’t really matter anymore.

“Is everything okay?” He simply asked.

“I’m not sure,” you began, “but I really need to say this.” He gave you his full attention, making you feel a bit intimidated by him and extremely self-conscious. “I’m in love with you,” you blurted out.

Silence quickly filled the room, and the tension could easily be cut by a knife. The moment you saw his face, you knew it: he didn’t feel the same way.

“I, uh, I don’t know what to say,” he mumbled more to himself than to you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make things awkward at all. You can just forget I said anything.”

“I really don’t want to hurt you but I just don’t feel the same way.” You were trying to hold back your tears as his words left his mouth. “You’re an amazing person and anyone would be lucky to be with you, but that person isn’t me.”

You simply looked at him and slowly nodded. “It’s okay, you can’t force yourself to feel something you don’t.” It was hard to speak at this point. He knew you were hurt, but you’d never show it; it would just make things harder for the both of you. “Is this gonna change things between us?”

“I would hate that, honestly.” You nodded again, finally being on the same page about something. He came closer and put a reassuring hand on your shoulder to try and alleviate the tension. If only it were that easy.

•••

Some time passed and you still tried to hide your feelings for him. For a while, it worked, you’d suppressed them every time you spent time with the boy but deep down, you missed the way you were before. It had always been hard for you to open up to people, but you’d never been this miserable before. You were just a shadow of your usual self, and it was evident to everyone in the base.

Ekko himself tried to talk to you about it, clearly oblivious to the fact that he was the reason for your attitude. Finally, after a particularly hard day for you, you just lost it.

“You wanna know what’s wrong with me, Ekko? It’s you!” You truly didn’t mean to scream at him but you also couldn’t help it. Lately, you lived on edge, always frustrated about something; it was like you were a bomb simply waiting to explode. “I swear I tried to play dumb, to ignore everything but I just can’t.”

“Is this about-?”

“Yes, Ekko, of course it is.” You interrupted him. “I know you went on with your life and pretended I never said anything so we could go back to the way things were, but it’s not that easy for me. Nothing about this has been easy.”

“I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“Bullshit,” you spat. “You know exactly how I feel about you. We’ve known each other for years, you can’t tell me you never realized why I’ve been acting so strange.”

There was a pause between you. You were agitated, heart beating so fast that you could feel it in your throat. “I guess I wanted to pretend nothing ever happened,” he confessed after some time. “Acknowledging it made it real and I just- I just want my friend back, without any messiness and complications between us.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Ekko. I’m sorry my feelings are such an inconvenience to you. Trust me, I wish I could change them and forget about you for good but I just can’t.”

Something twitched inside of him when you said that and he looked at you with hurt eyes. “You really mean that? That you’d like to forget me?”

“I meant forgetting about my feelings for you, ‘cause you’re not making things easy for me,” you explained. “When you come over and put your arm around me or stand so close to me that I can feel you breathing it kills me, Ekko. And the worst part is that you know it.” You took a deep breath, anger slowly leaving you, feeling nothing but sadness. “Sometimes I feel like you enjoy testing me like that because you know that no matter what I’ll always come back to you. But I’m tired of this dance between us, it’s too much.”

“I just don’t know how to feel! This is hard for me too!” Neither of you cared if someone heard you at this point, you’d simply have to put up with the weird looks from everyone. “I don’t know what you want me to do and I’m confused.”

“Honestly,” you began, “I want you to give me some space.”

“Wait, I- uh, I don’t want that, please,” he took a step closer to you, trying to grab ahold of your hand but you avoided his touch, as you avoided his sad eyes.

“Do you have feelings for me, Ekko?”

“I said I’m confused.”

“It’s a simple question, do you?”

You finally looked at him and he realized that you were crying. He could count with one hand the number of times he’d seen you cry, and he never thought he’d be the reason why. “I don’t know,” he finally whispered.

“Then I don’t have anything else to say. I don’t want to wait for you to figure out how you feel and keep getting hurt in the process, I don’t think I deserve it.”

“Wait, please-.”

“Ekko,” you cut him, “I need some space, don’t make this even harder, please.” And with that, you left, leaving him even more confused than before, and with a pain in his chest he couldn’t really explain.

You should’ve known this was coming. Still, it hurt like the first time. You couldn’t blame him; if anything, you were glad he was honest with you. But after today, you realized that you needed to keep some distance from him, or this would end up destroying you for good.

•••

Days quickly turned into weeks, and you realized you hadn’t said a word to the Firelight’s leader in almost a month. Your heart still flipped inside whenever you inevitably ran into him or locked eyes with him within the first few days since the fight, and soon you started avoiding him all along.

In no time, the boy started feeling an emptiness inside him, something he couldn’t explain. He was truthful with you in that last conversation, he truly wasn’t sure how he felt, but with every passing day that you were nowhere to be seen, he realized that maybe he’d been a complete fool.

He missed you, there was no denying that. Now the question was if his feelings for you were simply platonic or if deep down he yearned for you, maybe even more than you for him. Ekko wasn’t the best with his emotions, not because he actively repressed them, but because all of this was extremely new to him, and he just felt so overwhelmed. However, there was one thing he was extremely sure of: he wanted you in his life.

It had been days since he last saw you, evident now that you’d been avoiding him for a while, so when he finally caught a glimpse of you around the base, it was like seeing an angel. Soon, his pleasant feelings were replaced by envy. You were talking with one of the new members from the Firelights, nothing out of the ordinary, but there was nothing he wanted more than to be the one you had your attention on. He didn’t recognize himself, filled with jealousy and bitterness.

The boy was pulled out of his thoughts when someone asked him a question, engaging in conversation with him, but that strange sensation still clung to him like glue. He hated himself and blamed his stupid ass for being such an idiot, these were merely the consequences of his own actions.

When he was lying in bed that night trying to fall asleep, you were the only thing on his mind. Your smile that shined like the stars, your lips that he so wanted to feel against his own while your arms wrapped around his body. He wanted to bang his head against the wall, he was such an idiot. If only he’d realized this before then maybe now you wouldn’t hate him. It all seemed so obvious to him now. You were there for him, by his side from the very beginning. He could always count on and lean on you, he trusted you even more than he trusted himself. Oftentimes he’d become mesmerized by how pretty you looked when you spent time together, the sun hitting your face in just the perfect way or your hair effortlessly framing your face in such a flawless way. Of course, he thought nothing of all this at the time, brushing it off as objective thinking. But now, it suddenly hit him, everything was different now because he wasn’t unsure anymore, he knew exactly how he felt about you. He loved you.

He sat on his bed, passing his hands through his face in an attempt to clear his mind. He wanted- no, needed to talk to you. Maybe you didn’t even feel the same way anymore, but he had to get it off his chest, he had to at least try. But right now, he also had to calm his nerves because if he didn’t, he’d go and knock on your door this very moment, and he was certain you didn’t wanna see him at all. So instead, he got up and went to take a walk, thinking it would be nice to sit by the tree to help him organize his thoughts. What he wasn’t expecting was seeing you there.

As soon as you saw his figure making its way to you, you got up, ready to leave but were interrupted by his voice. “Wait, please, don’t go.” You knew you should pay him no attention and leave anyway, but it had been so long since you’d last heard his voice that you were taken aback for a moment, standing in place. “Can we talk?” His voice was soft, nothing compared to what it was in your last conversation together; you could even hear a hint of desperation, which was what ultimately made you turn around and stay.

“What do you want, Ekko?” As soon as he heard you he let out a small smile, confirming that yours was the voice he wanted to hear every day when he woke up and every night before going to sleep.

He motioned for you to sit down again, doing the same right after you. “I’m sorry for everything,” he began saying, “I never meant for things to end up like this between us.” His chest accompanied his breathing, moving just a little too fast, earning him a concerned look from you. “I know that you probably hate me now, I know I would if I were you, and you’ll probably hate me even more after what I have to say since I acted like a complete idiot and took so long to figure out something that was right in front of me this whole time but I- uh, I do have feelings for you. Lots of feelings actually, I’m in love with you.”

You snapped your neck to look at him, trying to read his expression in search of a playful tone, but it wasn’t there. He was serious, he was finally saying what you wanted to hear for so long now. So long that you couldn’t fully believe him.

“Ekko, I don’t want any games, please.”

“I’m being serious. These weeks without you have been absolute torture, I can’t do this without you, I need you.” He rubbed his face, stopping at the bridge of his nose to pinch it. When he looked back at you, he had tears forming in his eyes, a sight you hadn’t seen in a very long time. “I’m being honest. I’m so sorry it took me so long to finally realize it. I made it my personal vow to always protect you and keep you safe and I’m the one that caused you pain and for that, I’m so sorry.”

You didn’t really know what to say, nothing seemed good enough. Your mind was racing and quickly you were lost in your thoughts and were brought back to reality by the sound of Ekko getting up, ready to leave. “These last weeks have been hell for me, too.” Your eyes met his and you stoop up, getting closer to him. “I don’t hate you, Ekko. I could never hate you.”

“But you don’t love me anymore?”

“I didn’t say that, I’m just a bit taken aback that’s all.” He got closer to you, trying to grab your hand and this time, you let him do it. He brought it to his face and planted a kiss on it, never breaking eye contact with you.

“I’m so in love with you that just thinking about spending a second away from you makes me suffer. I don’t want to feel that way anymore, I want to be with you, share my life with you, and love you every day.” One of his hands went to cup your face and you leaned against it. “Please let me love you.”

You looked at his lips and then back at his eyes, and in just a second the air was knocked out of your lungs when you felt his lips against yours. The kiss was sweet but desperate and filled with emotions. “Please let me love you, too,” you said when you separated.

“Nothing would make me happier.”

hey! i loved this request, i'm a sucker for angst :)

i changed it just a little bit but i still hope you like it anon, thanks for requesting! really enjoyed writing this one and i LOVE writing for ekko