#its okay to let the men have this one good opportunity

[stardusthuntress]

You guys! I just had a thought and I need to share it! First off, I firmly believe - because Imma lose it if this ins’t the case - that Cody is still alive, and doing just fine out there somewhere in the galaxy. Which got me thinking. Where is he? (Prepare for a long-winded rant, but it’s a happy one, i promise!)

Well, ya know how it seems that all the senators that were close to Padme just know Rex? While they likely know Rex because he doesn’t leave Anakin’s side, and Anakin is usually not far from Padme, I’m betting most of them have also been assigned escorts by Commanders Fox and Cody. Since Fox deals with everything ON Coruscant, it would make sense that he would turn to someone like Cody and Obi Wan when he needed a senatorial escort near a war zone. Having a Jedi would give them a sense of security, and the best senators also know that in reality it’s the clones that kept the Jedi alive throughout the war, so having a man like Cody who survived at Obi Wan’s side AND managed to keep Obi Wan in good health despite his many suicidal battle plans, is definitely one who’s protection they would welcome.

That being said, we all know that after the way many senators turned their backs on the clones. But we also know of a few specific ones that didn’t. While some senators - like Chuchi - tend to have security details from their own planets, it is less clear for others. We know Bail Organa worked closely with many clone units during the war, sometimes even fighting on the front lines beside them. We know he trusts them with his own life, and that he is doing his best to help Chuchi fight for them in the senate as quietly as possible so that he can also protect his own, newly expanded, family. And speaking of that newly expanded family, he’s likely to be in need of some new security guards who will be assigned to watch over his daughter’s life when he cannot be there. And who better to hire to protect a little, wild, force-wielding child than the same people who did exactly that during the war?

I have a feeling that when Cody went AWOL, he had secretly been in contact with senator Organa who offered him, and whoever he wanted to go with him - Cody was totally testing the waters to see if Crosshair wanted to go with him - a safe escape. A chance at a real job, that would pay well, and keep his real identity hidden. Besides, Bail isn’t going to have time to send new security detachments off to training. The child is in his arms, so he needs the new security team to be ready to start tomorrow. And who better than men who’ve already been trained by war and who are searching for a redemption arc of their own. We know that many of the clones feel terrible for what they did to the Jedi, and many of them want a chance to prove that that wasn’t them, that they weren’t in control when that happened. Bail knows Leia carries the future of the galaxy in her hands, and would protect it with everything she is. Who better to protect her than the men who were created to do exactly the same thing?

We also know that Bail has had contact with Ahsoka, and is likely also communicating with Rex (since it is highly likely that he knows the man well, thanks Anakin and Padme). So there’s comfort in the idea that he might be able to contact Rex and tell him Cody is okay.

But back to Cody. I sincerely hope that it was Bail that smuggled Cody and co. out of the GAR, and took them to that same secret medical facility that he and Obi Wan took Padme to (so she could give birth), but this time to have their chips removed (which I’m betting Ahsoka or Rex told him about). And then brought them home to become little Leia’s new security attaché. I for one would LOVE to see Cody helping to raise the spunky little Skywalker girl. And I have a feeling Bail is completely aware of the clones paternal instincts. And knows that is exactly what Leia is gonna need while he, Bail, has to attend to senatorial and royal duties elsewhere. And Cody is totally a girl dad. He’d also totally teach her how to defend herself.

And I know that we didn’t see Cody in Kenobi, on Tatooine or Alderaan. What if that was one of the few days that Bail managed to convince Cody to take some time off, and Cody blames himself for Leia’s kidnapping? Then he’d have to tell Cody about Obi Wan surviving, giving him peace and hope, and letting him stand in the room when he called Obi Wan, and letting Cody escort him to Tatooine to talk to Obi, and Cody would be in change of monitoring the rescue attempt just like he did during the war when Obi Wan would forget to contact him and he needed some way to figure out exactly where his disaster Jedi trio had run off to.

That’s where I think Cody is. On Alderaan. And I’m betting that after the events of Kenobi, he will never again leave Leia’s side for the rest of his life. Which means that if he survived the Imperial takeover of the Tantive IV, he’s likely fighting in the rebellion, side by side with Rex, watching over the disaster lineage, just like they always did. Just like old times…

EDIT: I’m 100% planning a fic of this. It’s gonna have all the feels. I need a happy ending for Codes where he gets to watch over his little Star Princess and be proud of the strong woman she grows to become. And he needs to see Rex again. And they need a chance to use their talents for something they choose to fight for (speaking of, I wish I could include Gregor in there too, he’d be the most fun uncle for Leia, but the biggest headache for Cody, but I highly doubt she ever met him… and we already know how Gregor’s story ends… 😭)… but Cody, the man who carried the weight of damn near half the GAR, and protected the lives of the disaster trio through the war, is gonna get a happy ending, because I said so (Dave is gonna get an earful from me if something like this DOESN'T happen)

[earthchica]

Funny How Time Flies

terry richmond x black, fem!/plus size reader

summary: you are a shy, introverted person who wants to break out of your shell and experience fun at least once in your life. During a mutual friend's group trip, you meet Terry and have the best sex with him. Once the fun is over, will you and Terry stay in touch?

warnings: explicit smut (18+), light use of daddy, foul language, dirty talking, dom/sub, oral (f), pussy slaps, fingering, unprotected sex, nicknames (beautiful, baby, baby girl), words: (3k)

note: hey, I'm working on another mini-series, but this one is sweet, wholesome, and freaky! let me know your thoughts and if you want to be tagged in future parts. please enjoy!

series masterlist

You’ve been shy and introverted your entire life, often feeling tired of this loneliness. Your daily routine typically consists of working, exercising, and returning home, which leaves little opportunity for social interaction or adventure.

While you go out when you want to, most of your time is spent at home with your loving dog. Despite that, you know something is missing—particularly, a boyfriend and a more vibrant social life.

The anxiety stemming from your shyness made it difficult for you to step outside your comfort zone. You want to seek more experiences beyond the walls of your home and be more outgoing.

When your friends Sasha and Maya invited you on a group trip, you accepted. They were surprised but happy and reassured you that you wouldn’t feel left out or awkward during the trip.

Sasha, in particular, couldn’t contain her excitement, as explained by her boyfriend, Bryce. He was bringing his old marine friend, Terry Richmond.

You met the girls at the airport and greeted them with hugs. Sasha explained that Bryce and Cameron needed to find Terry, which made you feel nervous. She told you a little about him, but ultimately, you would have to form your own opinion about him.

"Oh, here they come! Finally,” Sasha replied, gesturing towards three tall, fit men in the distance.

Bryce was a tall, dark-skinned man, while Cam was kind of brown-skinned since he was lighter than Bryce. Then your eyes led to him. Who must be Terry?

At that moment, you felt an undeniable spark of love at first sight. Terry was slightly taller than Bryce and Cam and had a lighter skin tone.

He was so handsome, with good hands, good lips, and, good god, a nice body!!! He was fine, and you wanna intertwine him.

"Good, made it back on time and found big dawg," Bryce nudged Terry on the arm, laughed, and then moved over to Sasha.

"Yeah, bro was at the wrong damn gate/terminal," Cam said, walking over to Maya and greeted her with a kiss on the forehead.

"My fault; it's been a minute since I've been at the damn airport; y'all know I don't travel a lot," Terry chuckled lightly as he caught you staring, prompting you to look away.

"Well, we're glad you found him. Now...um, Terry, I want you to meet someone," Maya said with a smile.

He raised his eyebrows curiously and she motioned towards you and introduced you to Terry by using your name.

“Hey, there!” He said, giving a polite wave, and you just stared at him. Everyone looked at you, awaiting your response, but nothing came out until Sasha nudged you.

“Hi,” you said, waving back with a small mile. You held his gaze for a moment, feeling a flutter of nerves in your stomach, before shyly turning your eyes away.

The flight to Cancun, Mexico, is currently boarding for its scheduled departure at 1 PM. Passengers are advised to have their boarding passes and identification ready and to proceed to the gate promptly.

"Okay, that's us. Who's ready to get Lit?" Maya clapped her hands, easing the awkwardness and creating a more hype vibe.

Sasha wrapped her arm around your shoulders playfully, giving you a knowing look through her sunglasses.

"Look at you, drooling all over Terry already; I told you he would be your type," She teased, and you playfully hit her arm.

Soon enough, you were all on the plane, and of course, you were sitting next to Terry. He was talking to you, but you felt so nervous that your responses were short.

You both had a lot in common: you were single, didn’t get out much, and were on this trip to have fun. You couldn’t believe that a handsome man like Terry wanted to talk to you despite your shyness.

Terry was eager to talk to you from the moment he first saw you. He felt a strong connection and wanted to get to know you better. He was really glad he decided to go on this trip because your sweet and shy nature made him want to break you out of your shell.

“You're kind of the shy and quiet type, huh?! I like that; some people say I'm reserved, so I guess I can relate,"

"You don't seem like it; you seem like an outgoing person." You look at him for a second. His captivating hazel-green eyes burn into yours, causing a flutter in your chest.

"Well, I sometimes can be both; I'm a little reserved when I don't know the person, but if I know you, I'm more open, I guess," Terry explained, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

"What makes me so different?" You asked in a playful tone, building some confidence.

Terry laughs and smirks, "I guess you're that special!"

You felt like your heart exploded the way he looked at you, obviously attracted to you. You just nodded, looking away, trying to hide your smile.

“Hey....come on, I was just getting used to hearing that pretty voice of yours,” Terry said, leaning in, and your breath hitched.

You and Terry chatted throughout the entire plane ride. Although you were still a bit shy, you found yourself being more talkative than before, which felt positive.

Perhaps Terry was just what you needed for this trip. Once your group arrived at the stunning villa, you marveled at its beautiful interior.

“Alright,” Maya announced, her enthusiasm infectious as she gathered everyone to discuss the week's activities. She carefully ensured everyone felt included and excited about them.

Maya suggested you all chill and settle into our bedrooms for the afternoon. You began rolling your heavy suitcase down the hall, its wheels clicking softly against the floor.

“Do you need a hand?” Terry asked, approaching with a friendly smile and ready to help you with your suitcase.

"Yeah, thanks." You said with a small smile, walking to your bedroom door and walking in.

"You can put it right there, " You said, pointing at the chair before you and indicating that he should place it there. Terry glanced at you curiously as if he were too nervous to ask a question.

A moment of silent communication passes between you. Terry stepped forward, closing the distance, and you felt your heart race.

You instinctively wanted to shy away, but you fought against the urge, reminding yourself to be brave.

“I hope this doesn’t sound too forward, but I would love to take you on a date tonight. I am drawn to you and want to crack your shy shell and see what’s inside. Of course, only if you want me to," He expressed with a hopeful smile.

“I would love that, Terry,” You said with a smile. Terry smiled back, gave you his number, and set the date plans.

He walked out, winking at you as he left the bedroom. You bit your lip and excitedly squealed, jumping dramatically onto the comfortable bed.

-

You told the girls about the date, and they were so excited that they went upstairs to your bedroom to help you out.

“I don’t think I can do this; it's been so long since i've been on a date, and all together, I'm shy as fuck” You said, getting your nerves up.

“Babe, it’s fine. You need this, and Terry is an amazing guy. We wouldn't have brought him on this trip if we didn't know he would be perfect for you.” Sasha says, ease your anxiety a lot more.

“Sasha is right; just have fun and let go, but not too much; you might get dicknotized,” Maya smiles playfully as she hands you a sexy yellow dress that catches the light beautifully.

"This will look amazing on you," She added, her eyes sparkling excitedly. As you slipped into the dress, your nerves faded, replaced by a sense of pride.

Maya's perfume filled the room as she sprayed on you; it had a familiar and comforting aroma.

Sasha, the fashionista, was styling your box braids and applying your makeup while you looked in the mirror.

"Remember," She said, glancing over her shoulder, "confidence is key. Just be yourself."

After saying bye to Sasha and Maya, you closed the door behind you and took a deep breath. You were walking downstairs and Terry stood there at the bottom, clearly waiting for you.

His eyes widened, taking in every detail. You couldn't help but giggle at his look of awe. He seemed captivated by your radiant beauty, his gaze lingering on your elegant curves.

“Wow, you look beautiful,” Terry said. You smiled and looked him over, noticing he was wearing a black button-up shirt and shorts.

"Thank you. Um..you look beautif-I mean handsome!" You cursed at yourself in your mind, feeling totally embarrassed, and Terry found it cute.

"Thanks! Are you ready?" Terry asked, holding his arm out with a smile and you happily accepted.

Both of you walk leisurely down the path, arm in arm while listening to the gentle sound of waves crashing against the shore accompanies you as you make your way to the charming ocean-view restaurant that overlooks the sparkling waters.

You and Terry walk inside, and the warm glow of the intimate setting welcomes you. You find a cozy table for two awaiting your arrival. Moments later, a friendly waiter approaches, ready to take your drink orders.

While waiting, Terry struck up a conversation that flowed effortlessly. His warm smile and engaging demeanor made it easy to share about yourself. With every exchanged joke and smile, you found yourself becoming more comfortable, as if he had a talent for bringing out the best in people.

His smooth charm was evident; he made you feel special and understood, gently encouraging you to step out of your shy little shell and embrace the moment because the air between you crackled with sexual tension, growing palpable by the minute.

The waiter approached your table, balancing a tray of drinks that shimmered in the dim light. He set them down before you with a polite smile. After taking your food orders, he left you both.

Terry, his eyes sparkling, leaned in closer, a playful grin spreading across his face.

“While we wait, how about we play a game of ‘Would you rather?’” Terry proposed, the excitement in his voice making the suggestion feel inviting.

"Okay," You replied, intrigued and ready to dive into the game.

“Okay, would you rather…” Terry started, propping his chin on his hand as he contemplated the question.

“Would you rather live deep in the ocean or explore the vastness of space?”

You paused for a moment, considering the options carefully. “Hmm, that’s a tough choice. But I think I would choose space,” You finally replied.

“Mmm, interesting! What makes you lean toward space?” Terry inquired, leaning forward with curiosity.

“I have always been interested in space and astronomy. If I could, I would be an astronaut, and the experience would be exciting,” You said, taking a sip of your wine.

"Wow, I would love to learn more about that, but it's your turn," Terry said, his eyes lighting up with curiosity and a warm smile spreading across his face. The "Would You Rather" game had been going for a while and had taken a slightly naughty turn.

Before long, the waiter arrives with both of your meals, setting them down on the table with a flourish. As the delightful aromas fill the air, you take a moment to appreciate the dishes before returning to Terry.

Intrigued by the connection you two are building, you changed the subject wanting to know about Terry's interests and experiences, eager to learn more about his passions.

Terry paused mid-sentence, his gaze falling on your necklace, which had come unhooked. With a gentle smile, he leaned in close and secured the clasp.

You found yourself momentarily lost in the warmth of his touch, savoring the soft caress against your dark brown skin, a delightful contrast that sent a shiver of warmth through you.

Terry pulled away, a smirk playing on his lips, and effortlessly transitioned back into talking as if nothing had happened. You couldn't help but notice his subtle game; it was working on you like a charm.

Your desire was intense, and your craving seemed to deepen with every word he spoke. You were utterly captivated, wanting him more than ever before.

After dinner, you both walk silently side by side on the beach. Your hands nearly touch until Terry grabs yours and holds it, making you smile.

You slowly look up at him, and you find that his eyes are already fixed on you.

"What?" You asked.

"Just admiring how gorgeous you are," Terry stopped you from walking by wrapping his arms around your plump waist.

You touched his chest, thinking you both would finally kiss. But Terry was teasing you again. He lifted you slightly, catching you off guard and causing you to drop your purse and heels.

“Oh my goodness, what are you doing, Terry?” You gasped, struggling to escape his firm hold on you.

“Let’s get in the water; I bet it’s cold,” He said, trying to pull you closer.

“No, Terry!” You squealed, quickly breaking free from his grasp and running away from him with your tongue sticking out.

“Hey!” he yelled, chasing after you. When he finally caught you, he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and started tickling you.

You bounced up and down with laughter, trying to escape his grip. Just as Terry was about to say something, he accidentally tripped over something in the sand. Both of you fell together. You looked at him, and he looked at you.

You both laughed as Terry rolled off of you, pulling you onto his chest and kissing the top of your head, making your heart flutter. He eventually helped you out of the sand and retrieved your purse and heels.

Feeling a surge of confidence, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, surprising him with the suddenness of your action. As you pulled back, a shy smile crept onto your face, and you turned your gaze to the side, feeling excitement and nervousness.

In an instant, Terry reached out, his fingers gently cupping your cheek, drawing your attention back to him. His eyes searched yours, a blend of sweetness and warmth reflected in them.

Then, without breaking his gaze, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing softly against yours as he kissed you, igniting a flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

You let out a muffled moan, feeling his hands gliding over your ass with a gentle yet teasing touch. Your breath caught in your throat, pulling away while feeling him firmly grasping it.

"Do you wanna continue this back at the villa?" Terry asked, his eyes darkened with desire as he looked down at you.

"Yes," you said, nodding firmly as you still held the gaze. Your voice remained steady, even as a whirlwind of emotions surged within you—excitement, desire, and a hint of nervousness mingled together.

-

Once stepped into the bedroom, Terry pressed you against the solid door. His lips met yours in a passionate, rough kiss, feeling an electric spark hit and made your heart race.

"I've been waiting to take this dress off you since I saw you in it," He murmured in your ear, running his hands down the bodice of your yellow dress.

"And it's just driving me wild," He whispered, which made you shiver.

"Well, take it off if you're brave enough," You spoke boldly, which made him smirk.

You gasped as he lifted you in his arms and carried you to the bed. You still couldn't get over the fact that he was so strong to pick you up, which was a turn-on for you.

He picked you down as both of you stood at the edge of the bed; he was kissing your neck, and his lips peppered on your dark-brown skin, pausing here and there to suck on the sensitive flesh.

His hand reached behind your back to find the zipper of your dress, pushing it down to your feet. You step out of it, and his hands touch your exposed breasts.

As you stood there, a wave of insecurity washed over you, causing you to shy away slightly. Just when you thought about retreating and hiding yourself, Terry stopped you. His gaze was steady and inviting, searching your eyes.

"You're beautiful, baby. Don't hide from me!" He whispers genuinely, making you feel warm inside. You kiss him as his hands grip your breasts.

You let out a soft moan, pulling away and popping his black button-up shirt open. You admired his abs and slid your fingers down his chest.

Terry shivered slightly at your touch; you had the same effect on him as he had on you. Both of you practically ripped each other's clothes. You gently laid yourself down as Terry hovered above you.

You pulled him down for another kiss as he cupped your right breast in his hand while his lips moved away from yours. His tongue dragged across the dark area of your areola.

"Such nice big tits, so good to suck," Terry growls and grabs both of your breasts with his hand, squeezing and sucking them, causing you to whimper.

"How does that feel, baby?" He asked, pulling away from sucking your nipples as his right hand traveled down to your wet folds, and circled them.

A loud moan escaped your lips, felt him push two fingers inside of you, prompting you to cover your mouth to avoid being heard by the others.

"Nah, baby girl, none of that. You have no idea how desperate I want to hear you moan for me. If you don’t let yourself make any sounds, I’ll have to find a way to draw them out."

"Yes-yes....ohhhh....It-it feels good....ahh......so good," You moaned, feeling him moved below and rested between your plump legs, glancing up at you. He spread them wide, getting a good look at your pussy.

"Mmmm, a pretty girl with a pretty pussy" He said before placing his hands on your legs and dragging his tongue between your wet folds.

"Yes....fuck....ahh fuck" You moaned, arching your back and grabbing your breasts as he repeated the action with more pressure, his tongue sliding against your bundle of nerves.

"Mmm, tastes so damn good, girl" His hands were holding your wide hips as he continued to suck and lick you dry, drawing desperate soft moans from your mouth. 

Terry buried deeper between your plump legs, which was driving you crazy. The pleasure you were feeling going through your body was so overwhelming.

"Ahh fuck, Terry fucking eat this pussy, mutherfucka" You moaned, and your fingers gently caressed his head, relishing the closeness of him.

Terry chuckles. "Mmm, there you go, keep talking nasty to me, baby. I see I'm bringing the best out of you, the freak in you," He said before resuming devouring your pussy.

Another loud moan escaped your lips as the pleasure built within you, clenching around his fingers while you felt yourself getting close.

"Are you gonna cum, beautiful?" He asked, moving up to look into your eyes and began to finger fuck you fast.

"Yes, Terry, oh shit.....fuck-fuck don't stop fuck." You cried, suddenly cumming hard, eyes rolling in the back of your head.

"Yeah, that's it, baby girl. Fucking cum for Daddy," Terry said, still fingering you and then smacking your pussy as wet gushing came out of you, causing you to cry.

"Shit, look at that, baby. And I did all that with my tongue and fingers; I can't wait to see how your pussy takes my dick" He said with a chuckle, licking his fingers, and you watched him coming down from your intense high.

You kissed him, slightly tasting yourself as he cupped your breast in his hand while your hand slid down his chest to his throbbing dick; you got a good look at it and gasped at it.

"Like what you see?" Terry whispered in your ear.

"Yes, it's so big," You moaned, moving your hand up and down his length as you kissed him again but deeply. A very deep moan came from his mouth when you got a little faster.

"Fuck, girl, I need you…" Terry said with a slight moan, which made you smile. He moved on top of you and slowly entered your folds, causing you to go bananas.

You were loving the fullness of his thickness inside of you as he began thrusting, drawing soft moans from you. Terry asked, looking down at you to see if it was good, but you nodded.

"Come on, baby. Don't get shy on me again; tell me how it feels?" He asked, his hands on your waist sliding down to grasp your wide hips, pulling you closer so he could bury himself deeper.

"Yes, Terry fuck me, fuck it feels good!" You moaned, wrapping your plump legs around his waist tighter, allowing a new, delicious angle that you both liked.

Your moans became louder and more frequent as his thrusts came faster but still as gently and passionately as ever.

"That's it, girl....let everyone know i'm fucking this pussy good, You like it, you like how I am fucking you" Terry moaned while his rhythm never stopped looking down at you with so much desire and lust;

"Oh yes, Daddy fuck me, it feels so good," You cried, looking up at him as he lifted your legs to his shoulders and pounding into you faster and harder but much more profound.

"Take that fucking dick like a good girl;" Terry growled, tightening his grip on your legs.

"....fuck are you about to cum, baby?" Terry moaned, feeling the warmth of your walls, clenched around him.

"Oh....yes, fuckfuckfuck..I'm-I'm cumming-" You moaned, digging your nails deep into his arms and scratching down.

"Fucking let it go, baby."

"AHHH!!" You screamed, coming hard again and Terry wasn't too far behind, cursing, pulling out; your legs immediately fell to his waist as his hot cum spurted all over your belly, making you slightly giggle.

"Shit," Terry cursed, lowered himself, and propped up on his left arm as his head buried in your neck.

He entirely collapsed on top of you, and you wrapped your arms around him. You slid your hand up and down his sweaty back while he gave you small, lazy kisses on your face and neck.

Terry rolls off you, and both of you calm down from your high. You bite your lip and turn to prop yourself up to look at him.

"That was—" You couldn't decide what word to use. It was beyond amazing, it was...

"Mind-blowing, yeah," He agreed, looking at you and lifting himself up to kiss you.

"Up for another round in the shower?"He asked, pulling away and caressing your hip.

"Yes!" Both of you smirked at each other and got out of bed to walk to the bathroom; Terry made you cum two more times that night.

[choism]

Jester's Game | b.tc

Captain Buggy x Pirate!afab!Reader

Genre: smut, angst, fluff (If you squint)

Summary: Trying to overtake Captain Buggy's ship leaves you asking questions, and surprisingly, getting answers

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: top!buggy, afab!reader, unprotected sex (pls dont), cunnilingus, fingering, creampie, squirting, rough sex, gentle sex (yeah wild), inappropriate use of detached limbs, spit as lube (also a no no), overstimulation, pet names (sweetheart, princess)

A/N: WOOHOO ITS MY FIRST NON KPOP FIC!! I knew I would write for other stuff eventually but I definitely did not expect it to be a recent hyperfixation. Buggy just has me bricked up okay! Anyway I hope y'all enjoy, don't forget to let me know what you thought of the fic in the tags !

It’s a rather unfortunate series of events, really. Sure, you could’ve told your navigator to sail away from the ship with the giant clown crossbones flag. Yeah, it might’ve helped if you had told your crew that they were about to fight some of the toughest pirates in the East Blue. But where’s the fun in that? As their captain, it’s your job to seek the adventure, and well, this was an adventure all right.

It started with you telling your men to approach, cannons firing, your crew hopping their ship, the infamous ship commandeered by none other Buggy The Clown. Yes, the ship your measly crew has decided to board. Listen, it was strategic! Buggy had somehow gotten the map to the grand line back, and your ship just so happened to be within the vicinity of his, so why not seek the opportunity to take it? Well that was your first mistake.

Now, you find yourself here, hands bound behind your back and kneeling with your crew in front of Buggy’s stupid, dumb throne in his stupid, dumb circus tent cabin.

“You all truly are fools for thinking you could take on my band of freaks,” Buggy lazily sprawls over his throne, seemingly unimpressed by your, in his words, ‘lackluster crew’.

“It’s funny actually, how pathetic it was, I mean even Mohji got in a few punches! Ha! Truly a fine show.” The man you assume being the Mohji that Buggy had just poked fun at, slumps his shoulders sadly at his jab. “Now, time to get to the good stuff…” Buggy trails off, standing up and taking a few strides in your direction, his dirty boots stopping directly in front of you. He detaches his hand and uses it to lift your head, pointing your chin up to look him in the eye.

Looking up, you spit and it lands on his cheek, he simply swipes it off with his attached, gloved hand. “So what if you defeated us, it doesn’t make you any better of a pirate, and doesn’t get you any closer to the One Piece.” You tilt your head and smirk. He may have overcome your crew, but he will never overcome your overwhelming ego and pride. It matches his just as equally.

“Ah, that's where you’re wrong, princess,” His grin is just as wide as yours, and briefly you’re confused, what could he mean? “Given your set of thieving skills, probably some of the best in the East Blue, I’ve heard, you’re gonna join my band of freaks, and I’m not giving you a choice sweetheart,” Buggy removes his hand from your chin, and it floats to his arm, re-attaching itself.

“Boys, throw their crew overboard, we have no use for them.” He rolls his eyes and sits back on his throne, “Oh! And go show them to their new quarters, make them feel at home.” Buggy laughs a deep boisterous laugh, one that genuinely sends shivers down your spine.

The pirates lead you into, what is actually, quite a nice room in the lower deck of the cabin, lit by a few candles, and a cot in the corner. Surprisingly, they cut you out of your ropes, and shut the door without locking it. What’s their deal? Don’t they know you can escape at any time if you wanted? Sneak out and steal one of their emergency boats, and sail to the nearest Island? Granted, you aren’t sure where the nearest Island is, you’re a thief, not a navigator.

Instead of worrying about escaping, you roam the small room, admiring your surroundings. The whole ship is clown themed, front he flags to the cabin to everything, but this room is different. Not a single sign of jester-like decorations anywhere. In fact, it’s as if this cabin was decorated specifically for you. Before you can think more of it, the door opens suddenly.

Buggy enters, and closes the door behind him. When he enters you’re sitting on the cot, legs crossed and unamused.

“Not thinking about escaping? Not that you could anyway, we are miles away from the nearest island, and realistically it would take you days to get there on one of our measly boats.” He rolls his eyes, as if annoyed by how small and fragile the boats are, before sitting backwards on the chair at the short desk next to the cot.

“So what do you even need a thief for? Why am I here?” You blurt, already growing impatient from the lack of information being given to you.

“I need you for many reasons, being a thief is only one of them, sweetheart.” Buggy grins and removes his hat, setting it on the desk. “You already have connections at the grand line, and while I know you need my map to get there, I know that you know the people I need to talk to, to gain safe entry without slaughtering half the fucking pirates there.” He leans back and relaxes a bit, observing your facial features.

“And why do you think any of the people I know would want to help you? You’re just some lowly pirate.” You spit at him, angered by his casualness. In what world would you even willingly help him? Who does he think he is?

“Ha…Me? A lowly pirate? This coming from the literal captain of a crew is hilarious! Tell me another joke, please.” He grins knowingly, he knows how to get a rise out of you for sure. You look over his facial expression, smugness overtakes his face and it makes your stomach twist, not with disgust though for some odd reason, with another feeling you don’t quite recognize. 

This whole situation has you feeling all kinds of anxious. How did you just happen to raid the ship of a pirate who just happened to need you for this specific thing, and why is his presence making you feel so…weird? Something isn’t right here, and it can’t be because of your connections to the grand line. No, he’s hiding something. 

“What are you hiding, clown? There’s something you aren’t telling me.”

His face drops, and he gets suddenly very serious, “Listen here, princess,” Buggy gets up from the chair and gets close to you, leaning down, your noses almost touching. “You’re gonna get me to the grand line, I don’t care if I have to torture it out of you, got it? No more questions tonight.” He gets up and suddenly grins very brightly, as if nothing ever happened. “Night night!” Buggy walks out and slams the door, then you hear a locking sound.

Fuck, he locked you in your room. You should’ve expected this, honestly. The way he reacted to your question was so strange. You knew there was something fishy, but you didn’t think whatever it was could’ve prompted that kind of reaction out of him. 

***

The next day you wake up to yelling outside of your cramped room. Yawning, you get up and put your ear to the door,

“I’m sorry Captain Buggy! I didn’t know that was their ship I swear I promise!”

You hear what sounds like a kick to the jaw and a yelp,

“Didn’t know? Didn’t know?! You couldn’t tell by the giant crossbones flag that very obviously bares their symbol? I’m tired of you, someone go throw him off the deck.”

You hear screams and pleads of “No please!” and “I didn’t know I’m sorry captain!” before hearing water splash, then silence, then- oh shit footsteps coming towards your room. You scramble back to your cot and lay down, pretending to sleep. You hear a couple of knocks before hearing a feint “What the fuck am I doing, I go where I want!” Before Buggy barges into the room after unlocking it.

“Get up, I know you heard everything.” He spits gruffly, sitting back in the chair again the same way as yesterday. You sit up abruptly. Last night you couldn’t shake this feeling, of what you felt when Buggy had gotten so serious, and it’s just gotten worse being in his presence. Your abdomen feels hot, your ears feel hot, everything feels hot. It’s like butterflies in your stomach if the butterflies were armed with knives.

“Yes, I did hear, what do you mean by my symbol? I thought bumping into you was a coincidence?” Buggy smiles faintly, and chuckles.

“Yes, it was, I wasn’t informed of what ship we attacked, just that my men captured you all, oh but when I saw you…I knew.” Buggy stands up and motions for you to do the same, getting so close to you, your chests almost touch. He brings his hand to your arm, caressing down the length before gripping your wrist harshly, causing you to wince. “Do you….” he trails off, “Do you really not remember me?” He brings his eyes from your arm to your face, making direct eye contact.

You struggle to find words, what does he mean, remember? Yeah, he gives you a strange feeling everytime you're near him, but you’ve never met this man in your entire life. You think. Honestly you can’t remember anything before the age of seventeen.

“I– no, no I don’t…”

His smile fades, and he lets go of you, “I thought you would remember once you saw me, we were on Gold Roger’s crew together years ago, but you went missing after a particularly tough battle.” He pauses, thinking carefully about what to say next, “You– We– We were close, and I was devastated, I thought you were dead.” He’s being surprisingly vulnerable right now, and it’s kind of scaring you.

“I don’t really remember anything before I turned seventeen, All I know is one day I woke up on an island, a group of pirates took me in, I left, and I’ve been on my own since. The only reason I am where I am today is because I wanted to find who I was, and I figured I could find that out at the grand line.” You feel overwhelmingly sad. Why are you sad? You don’t even know him.

There’s a long silence between the two of you, it’s uncomfortable, tight, and makes you want to leave, until he says, “Let me show you.” He says abruptly, and you think you see a blush across his face.

“Sorry, I mean, please,” Buggy steps into your space again, this time his eyes flit between your lips and your eyes, back to your lips. “I’m sorry we couldn’t find you, I’m sorry you had to go through that, I missed you so much y/n” That was the first time he’s said your name this entire time, but it’s not one you recognize.

“Is that my name?” Your lip quivers, he’s so close now, your lips are inches apart.

“Yes it is, y/n, sweetheart, princess, I’ll call you whatever you want, just let me show you.” The thick air has disappeared and is now replaced with tension. Something deeper, heavier, fills the room. But it’s not a bad thing.

“Let me show you who you were to me.”

You let his face drop to yours, and your lips finally connect.

The kiss is slow, languid. It’s like his lips were meant to connect with yours. Buggy wraps his arms around your waist. Pulling you in closer, and kissing you deeper. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you let him kiss you as deep as he wants. The pace quickens and he slots his leg in between yours, rubbing against your pants and providing much needed friction.

You moan into his touch and he walks the both of you backwards until the back of your knees reach the bed. He lowers you onto it and hovers above you, kissing you again before departing. “Is this okay?” Buggy asks, brushes his hands underneath the bottom of your shirt, slowly lifting it.

“Only if you return the favor.” He chuckles and lowers his head to your neck, sucking and biting gently while riding up your shirt until your chest is exposed. You sit up briefly to take off your shirt and as promised, he does the same. He isn’t overly ripped like most pirates are, but he’s still well toned. His muscles flex as he shifts lower, kissing down your chest, down your stomach and stopping just above the navel.

“When I saw you were the one my men captured, it took my breath away,” He lifts your hips so he can remove your pants and undergarments, “I was scared, anxious, I didn’t know what to do, so I pretended I knew you for your skills, not for your past.” After removing everything, he pushes back, kissing your thighs before sitting up, taking his gloves off with his teeth and throwing them to the side. Man that was hot.

Buggy detaches one of his hands and lets it roam up your torso, reaches your neck and gives it a gentle squeeze. Before leading his fingers over your mouth, asking for entry. You grant it and his index and middle finger slip into your mouth, swirling your saliva around and coating them generously. “When you suspected I knew more, I didn’t know what to do. When you boarded I just knew you by name, not face, there was no way I could’ve expected this.”

He removes his hand from your mouth and moves it down to your center, rubbing through your folds gently and inserting two fingers, scissoring you open and prepping you for what's to come. Buggy uses his still detached hand to remove his own trousers, his cock springing free from its confines. He strokes it slowly, clearly getting off to his detached hand fingering you open.

“Buggy…” You moan, you can’t even reply or form a sentence, the pleasure too good.

“Shhh just relax sweetheart, I’ll take care of you.” He brings his hand away from your now dripping cunt, reattaching it and leaning down. You feel his breathe over your core, he kisses your clit before taking it in his mouth, lapping up your taste and fucking you onto his tongue. You can feel your orgasm approaching quickly as he flits between sucking on your clit and tonguing inside of you, but he pulls away.

“Fuck! Why’d you–”

You’re interrupted by his cock entering you and your legs being lifted by his hands so he can enter as deep as possible. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so full before. His cock fits so nice and feels so good and he hasn’t even moved yet.

“Fuck you’re so tight and wet for me, so fucking good huh? Letting me fuck you like this.” His pupils are so blown out, he watches his own cock pull out and start to thrust into you, it just fuels your arousal further. Buggy starts out slow, just getting you used to his size before he picks up the pace, fucking into you even deeper and faster.

“Shit, gonna cum Buggy please.” He moves your legs to prop onto his shoulders and he grabs onto your waist, pushing down and holding you in place as he fucks into you roughly.

“Gonna cum for me? Go ahead sweetheart. Cum all over my cock.” He moves his hand over your abdomen and presses down, the pressure making you feel dizzy. You feel white hot, the band finally snapping as you come. “Fuck, gonna cum soon too, gonna fill you up so good.”

Buggy relentlessly fucks into your cunt, overstimulating you and causing a pressure to build that’s unfamiliar. “Wait Buggy I, fuck I feel weird it feels good.” Soon, with a loud cry you feel a wetness rush between your legs, causing you to let out a loud string of moans and curses.

“Squirting for me already? God you’re full of surprises. Shit, I’m coming.” A few more snaps of his hips and you feel his hot cum fill you up, as promised. It feels so good. He slows down and pulls out, his load leaking out of you and onto the sheets below. “So good for me.” He whispers, leaning down and kissing you gently. He cleans the both of you up quickly and gets dressed, ready to go back to his quarters for the night.

“Wait Buggy, before you go…” You trail off and he turns around, listening intently. “If you don’t mind, can you tell me more about my- about our, past? I need to know where I came from, what happened.” Buggy smiles gently, walking up and kissing you on the forehead.

“Of course princess, later”

© Choism 2023. do not repost or translate.

[lovingperfectionsblog]

I'm Not A Spy?

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: There’s no way THE Max Verstappen got you flowers, absolutely no way. 

Warnings: Swearing, other than that, just silliness and fluff. 

Word Count: 1616

Authors note: This was literally a dream I had and I was encouraged to write it as a fic by my absolute dream of a friend @0-atmilk-latte so thank you sugar <3 I hope it’s okay. I really want to get back into writing my silly little stories so, let's try to do this. 

______

Enemy territory. 

This is where Max stood currently. Dead center in front of the Mercedes motorhome door, where everyone could see him. 

And every single person to walk through those doors sent him glares that would make sure he knew he was on enemy territory. 

He knew it was risky. Redbull merchandise adoring him. Sticking out like a sore thumb. It was a risk he was willing to take. 

“Horner send you?” Toto stepped through the doors after watching Max stand there for the past hour, “Although, I can't imagine who Horner would be giving those to?” eyes flicking between Max’s face and the bouquet of flowers he was currently white knuckling. 

“No sir, these are for your assistant.” Max tried to sound confident but even he could admit Toto was a terrifying man and this entire situation was feeling far too similar to the idea of trying to get your fathers permission to ask you on a date. 

“From?” Toto knew he was making Max squirm, but the only thing that would bring him more joy was if it were Horner himself standing in front of him instead of Max. 

“From me sir.” Max tried to stop his hands from shaking, the rustling of the leaves and flowers becoming oddly unbearable as he tried to stand his ground in front of your boss. 

“Why?” As much fun as Toto was having, he was also curious. He knew Max had been eyeing you up these past few weeks, paying more attention to you, attempting to talk to you every opportunity he could. He had even caught Max attempting to make small talk with Lewis and George, which he was now assuming was a bid at getting closer to you. At the very least attempt to make everyone around you like him in the meantime. 

“Because I was hoping to ask her to dinner sir.” Toto couldn't hide his surprise at Max’s honesty. Expecting at the very least some work around to that answer after some back and forth. 

God Max irritated him. He had no choice but to add this to the increasingly growing list of things he respected Max for and it infuriated Toto to no end. 

It didn’t mean he couldn't stress Max out in the meantime. 

“Well,” he let out a chuckle, “good luck then son.” 

“Boss, what’s the redbull scum doing on our turf?” George shouted towards Toto as he made his way towards the motorhome. 

Toto didn’t even give Max an opportunity to answer before he was shouting back, “Apparently he’s here to ask my assistant out to dinner.”

“Oh, makes sense why he’s been so nice to me and Lewis these last few weeks.” George made his way up to the entrance, joining his boss and rival, “Is this why you wanted to hang out in Monaco the other day?” 

Toto and George could only laugh at the uncontrollable blush that had made its way across Max’s face at being called out. 

And the situation was only made worse by, “Morning Boss, George,” you eyed the odd one out, cocking an eyebrow up in question, “and Max?” 

“Well then, go ahead,” was all that came from your boss in lieu of a greeting from any of them. 

And suddenly Max felt shy. All that previous bravado had clearly been used up with Toto, leaving none for the actual important interaction. 

He had to do something and soon, because you were standing there staring at him, waiting, for, well, something. 

Next second there was a bouquet thrust in your direction, gripped to near smithereens between Max’s hands. Your eyes darted between the flower and the three men in front of you, one completely avoiding eye contact, the other two doing a poor job to hide their smiles as they watched the interaction between you two. 

“What’s this for?” you refused to take the bundle from Max, unsure of what was happening. 

“You.” It was all Max could get out. 

“From?

“Me?” 

“Why?” 

“Jesus.” 

Toto barked out a laugh at the near identical conversation he and Max had just had. 

The flowers rustled in front of you as you assumed Max shook them for you to take. 

He would never admit that it was his nerves. 

You hesitantly took the flowers, eyeline switching between max and the, admittedly beautiful, bunch of flowers you were now holding. 

There was a long silence as you just stared at the flowers, eyebrows furrowing. Neither Max, Toto nor George fully understood what was going on in your mind. The silence extended so long that even Toto began to feel nervous, so he could only imagine what Max was feeling as he just stared you down just as intensely as you were staring at those flowers.  

Just as Toto reached out to nudge Max in an attempt to get him to say something to you, you began violently shaking the flowers. Petals and leaves began flying everywhere. Whole flowers landed on the floor at your feet. At least one had hit Max in the face. Toto stepped back in fear. Max shielded himself from the onslaught. By the time you were done, all that was left in your hand was one measly flower consisting of maybe four petals and a few leaves. The rest lay at your feet after your massacre. 

All three boys stared on in horror as you stood there breathless. Eyes fixed on Max like he was your prey. 

Everyone could hear the gulp from Max’s throat as he took a single step backwards. 

“You think just because I’m some girl and you’re the Max Verstappen in your fast little redbull you can treat me like some pawn in your weird little game?” you spat the words at him. 

Max desperately looked over to Toto and George for some help, but even they looked too scared to intercede on his behalf. 

“This isn’t some game, I just,” 

“You just what? Thought you could spy on my team?” you didn't even let him finish before throwing out a secondary accusation at him. 

“Spy?” George hadn’t meant to have that come out as loud as it did, but suddenly all attention was on him as he hid slightly behind Toto. 

“Obviously George. He probably put a listening device in the flowers to spy on us.” All three looked at you like you were insane, “Why else would he be giving me flowers?” 

“To ask you on a date.” The silence that followed Toto’s comment was deafening. 

“No.” It was all you could get out. 

“No to the date or no to him giving you flowers for that reason?” Totot was desperately trying to be the voice of reason here. 

“To him giving me flowers?” You’d yet to look at Max since the original accusations. 

“Why would Max be spying on us? Redbull is the fastest team on the grid?” George was emphatically nodding along with what Toto was saying, trying to get you to see that this was completely innocent. 

“I’m not a spy?” Max had finally spoken up, far too alarmed at the accusations beforehand to offer much more than this, beyond thankful to Toto for helping him explain. 

“Then what’s with the flowers?” You were sharp and blunt and Max couldn’t help but fall just that little bit more for you as he watched you defend your team. 

“To ask you on a date.” Max hesitantly pointed at Toto, showing that the original reason that was offered was correct. 

“You want to take me on a date?” Max could only nod, “and these flowers were to ask me on a date?” Another nod, smile growing as he watched your cheeks flush, “in front of my boss?” you side eyed your boss, hoping he’d take the hint to get out of there. 

“In my defense, I didn’t expect him to come talk to me, not stick around” Max’s eyes refused to leave you, a little nervous to at this point. 

“I’m not going anywhere, is it a yes or not?” Totot refused to budge, his massive presence looming over both you and Max as George peaked over his shoulder to continue watching the interaction. 

“Yes,” you watched as Max’s smile grew even wider than before, him already grabbing his phone out of his pocket so you could put your number in it for him, “as long as you promise you aren’t a spy!” you emphasized by shoving his phone, now containing your number, into his chest as a warning. 

“Not a spy. I promise,” Max stuck his pinky out, waiting for you to reciprocate, giving you the most legal of all promises, the pinky promise, “so it’s a date.” 

You nodded as you wrapped your pinky around his own, “A date.” 

After a moment Toto coughed, catching your attention and forcing you to let go of Max and straighten out your attire, “We should go, yes, we have, there’s work, yes, job, okay, bye” and with that, you had disappeared through the Mercedes motorhome doors, soon followed by Toto who clapped a hand against Max’s shoulders, muttering a “well done boy” as he followed you in to begin the day, leaving Max to stare after you as George sidled up next to him. 

The two stood in silence, Max staring at you as Toto clearly teased you about the interaction, and George stared at Max, gearing up to do some teasing of his own. 

“Never thought The Max Verstappen would be into women who scared him” 

“Shit, she’s so scary.” Max nodded along with his own statement before making George choke on his coffee with the next one, “I think I’m going to marry her.” 

[vikkirosko]

Headcanons The difference in height

🗝 Chilchuck Tims x tall-man fem!Reader 🍷

Chilchuck had never thought before that he would date tall-man, but now everything seemed to have changed. He met with you. You were tall not only for him, but for many others. You might have been the tallest woman he'd ever met in his life, but it wasn't nearly as bad as he might have thought before. When you first met, he often grumbled about your height, but over time he became more and more convinced that this had its advantages

When he defused the traps, you were always ready to grab him and pull him back if something went wrong. You also protected him from monsters, even if it meant that you were getting the wounds that he was originally supposed to get. Every time this happened, Chilchuck was outraged and cursed at you. He didn't want you to get hurt, because he was really worried about you, and every time you smiled at him and told him that you were okay and you would feel terrible if you let him get hurt without taking the opportunity to protect him

When you set up camp, Chilchuck always made sure that you weren't injured. He knew that you could ignore your own wounds so that someone else would get help instead of you. Each time, you gently smiled at his care and pulled him to you to hug him. Chilchuck blushed and grumbled about it, but didn't push you away. From the outside, your hugs looked a little strange, but none of your friends dared to say anything about it, realizing that no matter how it looked, it was much more important how you felt about each other. But he reacted much more vividly when you leaned over to him and kissed him, placing your palms on his cheeks. At such moments, he blushed to the tips of his ears and grumbled twice as much, but you knew that he liked it when you kissed him

No matter how often he grumbled, he still loved you. You were the one with whom he could share both the good and the bad moments of his life, you were the one who supported him and you were the one for whom he tried to be more open in his feelings and emotions. He had already ruined his relationship once and did not want your relationship to collapse through his fault as well. He didn't want to lose you and the feelings you gave him

🗝 Mickbell Tomas x tall-man fem!Reader 🪙

Mickbell liked the fact that you were the one he started dating. You and he were different from each other. You were a tall man who stood out even among members of your own race because of your height, because you were taller not only than other women, but also some men. Mickbell was very surprised when he first saw you, but he quickly found advantages in your height, and there were even more of them when you started dating

You were always ready to protect him, so he already had two defenders and he was much less worried about his own safety, leaving it to you and Kuro. When he didn't want to go on his own, he could hold out his hands to you and you, with a soft smile, took him in your arms or put him on your back. Rin grumbled irritably about it every time, saying that you gave him too many indulgences. Mickbell would have been outraged about this if you hadn't said that you didn't mind pampering him at all, because it wasn't at all difficult for you to do it. While you were saying this, Mickbell was smiling contentedly, after which he talked about Rin not interfering in your relationship

When you were camping, he often stayed close to you and could sit on your lap, leaning his head against your chest. You hugged him and he, a little redder, smiled at the fact that you showed your feelings for him so much. Kuro used to sit next to you and you didn't mind his company at all. You knew that he was important to Mickbell, practically as part of his family, so you didn't mind talking to him at all. You loved Mickbell and were ready to accept both him and his faithful companion. He knew it and, although he didn't show it so often, he was really grateful to you for accepting him no matter what

To others, your relationship might seem strange because of such strong differences between you, but Mickbell was ready to protect your relationship no matter what. Not only were you his faithful companion during his dungeon trips, to whom he could entrust his own safety, but you were also the woman he fell in love with despite the fact that you were of different races. He loved you and was ready to hold on to you and your relationship no matter what

[joeyalohadream]

turning the tables a little and requesting a sick bucky drabble… except he has NO problem accepting buck’s comfort and care. he’s extremely cranky from his illness but just wants to cuddle him

Hi anon! I took a LONG time to get to this one so I wrote a little more than usual. Hope you like it!

Here's a sick, grumpy Bucky (with everyone but Gale) and caretaker Buck. And, as always - softness and fluff! (Also my first time writing from Gale's POV, so that was fun!)

Word Count: 2,437

“You’re being ridiculous, Bucky. Just go to sick call and take the damn day.”

Gale’s steps stall outside Red’s office on his way to the briefing room. He listens in through the door, doesn’t even have to try really, as the men inside aren’t exactly being quiet.

“What would be ridiculous, Red, would be a healthy person going to sick call.”

Gale rolls his eyes and continues down the hall. He had his suspicions last night when Bucky had retuned much earlier than usual from the Officer’s Club that the other man had been feeling under the weather. But Gale had already been in bed and Bucky had brushed off his questions and given his forehead its customary goodnight kiss before falling into his own cot with a dramatic sigh. He’d been snoring within minutes and had been up before Gale for a meeting with leadership about the handover with Jack on Air Executive duties.

Gale was happy that Bucky would be back in the air with him. The happiness was dimmed by worry, but he knew that it wasn’t something he could affect. He worried about Bucky and Bucky worried about him and they’d both be going up into the sky and maybe wouldn’t be coming back down. It was something they’d have to learn to let into their relationship. To grow with.

But Gale wasn’t happy that Bucky would be spending all day today pretending he was okay when it was obvious to everyone that he wasn’t. There was no mission today, just a briefing on targets of opportunity and work with the ground crews on the forts they took up two days ago.

Bucky would be spending the day working with Jack on Air Executive duties, ensuring their transition went smoothly.

Sitting through the target briefing made his stomach clench with dread and flutter with anticipation at the same time. He exited the building, intending to grab some food before heading out to the tarmac.

Jack’s raised voice coming from the other side of the parachute storage door he was passing stopped him.

“You’re sick, Bucky! I don’t want to catch whatever you’ve got. This can wait until you’re not contagious.”

“I’m not sick. Let’s just get through this shit.”

“Breathe through your nose, Bucky.”

“Fuck you, Jack.”

Gale huffs a laugh and continues on his way.

----

Having to scrub engine grease from his skin is one of the pitfalls of spending time with Ken and his boys. He likes to know his Fort, all of the ins and outs, and he likes the way Ken lights up when Gale asks questions that allow the kid to share his expertise. So, the black grease he’s currently trying to remove from his forearms under the spray of the shower came from a good cause.

He gets the last of it off and moves to wet his hair as voices filter into the washroom. They stop around the wall where the sink basins are and Gale smiles when he hears its Bucky.

“Leave it, Curt.” Gale frowns at the nasally sounding tone.

“I’m just sayin’,” Curt’s accented voice joins the fray as Gale scrubs his hair. “Harding didn’t say he needed you to bring him the inventory report. Just give it to me and I’ll take it.”

“I’m not even fucking done with it,” Bucky groans.

“Then make Jack finish it. He’s air exec now,” Curt recommends. “The boring shit is his job as of today.”

“I just need to finish it and be done with it all.”

A lot of people look at Bucky and see a cocky pilot, which Gale will concede, he is.  But only the ones that really know him know that he has a tenacious work ethic. It’s paired with a shit attention span that makes things harder on him, but Gale admires the hell out of him.

“You need to go get yourself some medicine,” Curt snipes. “There’s some real pretty nurses in the sick bay, sure they’d love to get their hands on you.”

Gale rolls his eyes at Curt’s suggestive tone and then smiles when he hears Bucky’s reply.

“Yeah, not interested.”

“Since when?”

“And I’m not sick,” Bucky’s rough voice growls out and it makes Gale glare at the wall between them.

“You could literally cook an egg on your forehead.”

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

“You touch everyone all the goddamn time!”

Gale can’t help but chuckle at Curt’s fading words as he must be exiting the washroom. He closes his eyes and tips his back under the spray of the shower. When he opens them again, he can’t help but startle slightly as he sees Bucky’s flushed face peeking at him from around the wall.

“Lookin’ good, Buck,” Bucky throws him a roguish wink, eyes definitely not on his face. Gale throws his bar of soap in his direction and laughs as Bucky ducks back behind the wall to avoid it. His laughter fades out as he too exits the washroom.

That had been Gale’s first look at Bucky all day and he’d have to be blind not to notice the fever spots on his cheeks. He’d been planning to spend the rest of his day going over the mission planning briefs but he changes his mind as he turns off the shower, dries off and heads back to their quarters.

He leaves his hair mussed and falling over his forehead, puts on his PT gear and heads for the sick bay.

----

Gale’s sitting on his cot when the guys return from dinner, Bucky bringing up the rear. He smiles when Bucky’s eyes immediately search him out, heart warming at the relief he sees on the other man’s face when he finds him.

“Why don’t you want to go to Officer’s Club with us, Bucky?” Crank asks, voice teasing.

“I’ve gotta get up early,” Bucky grumbles back, making his way towards his cot, directly across from Gale’s own.

“We have the same schedule now that you’re back with us,” Crank points out. “And we don’t have anywhere to be until 1100.”

Bucky doesn’t answer, just sits heavily on his cot and glares back at Crank.

“Just get your shit and get the hell outta here,” Bucky snarks. “Those Red Cross girls are all gonna be taken if you all keep dawdling.”

“You don’t want to come find one for yourself?” Crank pushes.

“I really don’t,” Bucky pushes back.

“Now that right there proves it,” Crank laughs. “Just admit that you’re sick!”

“Just mind your own fucking business!” Bucky turns away from the room and starts taking off his boots.

Gale raises an eyebrow at Crank when he gets his attention and makes a motion with his head. Crank raises his hands in surrender and backs away.

Bucky gives Gale a small smile after he gathers his toiletries and moves to head to the showers. Gale returns the smile and then tries not to glare at the rest of the men until they all finally exit the barracks, headed for their drinks and their women.

“You got him?” Curt asks as he’s about to walk out the door.

“Always do,” Gale nods. Curt looks satisfied and heads out into the dusk.

Gale uses his time alone to prepare Bucky’s cot. He straightens the sheets, fluffs the pillow and adds one of his own to the mix. Pulls the blanket back so it looks inviting.

Then he sets up his supplies on his own footlocker and waits for Bucky.

Only a few minutes pass before shuffling footsteps draw his attention to Bucky’s slow-moving figure making his way to him, dressed in a pair of their cold weather PT pants and long sleeve shirt, rubbing a towel of his head. When he pulls it away, his curls are a mess.

Gale can’t keep the fond smile off his lips as he stands up, blocking Bucky’s path once he reaches their cots. He takes the towel and his toiletries from his hands and drops them onto Bucky’s footlocker and then he just looks at him.

They’re standing a foot apart and Bucky looks into his eyes for a beat before his shoulders sag and his eyes get a little bigger and he huffs out a pitiful sounding sigh.

“Buck,” he practically whines, and Gale takes advantage of their solitude by stepping closer and reaching forward to cup the older man’s too-warm cheek. “I don’t feel good.”

“I know, John,” Gale soothes, letting his thumb caress the heated skin beneath it. He smiles when Bucky rests the weight of head in his hand and closes his eyes. The fact that he doesn’t grouch at him, doesn’t try to hide anything from him like he’s been doing all day with everyone else makes affection bloom in his chest.

“Missed you today,” Bucky breathes out.

“Missed you too,” Gale admits. He misses Bucky whenever they’re not in the same room and it concerns him a little how attached he’s gotten.

“Come sit down,” Gale uses his free hand to latch onto the front of Bucky’s shirt and gives him a tug. He drops his hand from his face and moves it to his arm as he guides him to his cot. “I got you some stuff.”

Bucky sits down heavily, a groan escaping him, and Gale has been subject to enough sickness to know that his fever is probably making his whole-body ache. He winces in sympathy and grabs one of the fever-reducing tablets he’d gotten from the nurse earlier, places it in Bucky’s palm and hands him his canteen.

“Where’d you get these?” Bucky asks before he swallows the pill with a pull of water that leaves him grimacing.

“Sick bay,” Gale tells him.

“They just handing out these things to anyone that asks now?”

“Kinda told them I wasn’t feeling well,” he shrugs and sits down next to Bucky.

“You, Gale Cleven, lied to a medical professional?” Bucky looks scandalized, but there is a smirk playing at his lips. “And they believed you?”

“Sure did,” Gale reaches forward and grabs the mess kit from the footlocker.

“But you’re a terrible liar,” Bucky points out.

“I might have played it up a bit,” Gale admits sheepishly, still feeling embarrassed for his impromptu acting session. “Gave them that look you always say I give you.”

“You gave them the big, sad-puppy eyes?” Bucky looks offended. “Those eyes are supposed to be just for me.”

“They are Bucky,” Gale squeezes his knee. “I used them today for you.”

“You hate doctors,” Bucky reminds him. “You even hate nurses.”

“Love you, though,” Gale smiles at him and Bucky’s eyes widen a bit before he smiles back. Gale’s favorite big dopey grin lighting up his whole face.

“Now, eat this,” Gale put the mess kit into Bucky’s hand and unlatches the lid, revealing a salty broth. “Got it from the Red Cross van. It’s probably not hot anymore but should be warm. Guessing you didn’t eat any dinner.”

“Did you?” Bucky narrows his eyes at him, and Gale gives him his most innocent look. Knows that Bucky sees right through it, but he also understands that Gale hasn’t had much of an appetite since his first mission and he’s thankful when Bucky lets it lie. Knows that the fact that he does is evidence of how terrible he’s feeling.

Bucky foregoes the spoon and lifts the whole tin to his mouth, drinking from it like it’s a cup. He takes several big gulps and Gale laughs when he finishes it in under a minute.

“S’good,” Bucky wipes his mouth with his hand and gives the empty tin back to Gale.

“Should’ve gotten you more,” Gale frowns at the empty dish.

“It was perfect Buck,” Bucky knocks their knees together and then turns his head away to cough. Gale stows away the dish and turns back in time to see Bucky’s flushed face smiling at him. “This is perfect. You’re perfect.”

Gale feels his own cheeks heat up and curses Bucky’s ability to make him feel so damn flustered, wishes sweet words came as easily to him so he could return the favor.

“I just wanna go to sleep,” Bucky sounds tired, and a yawn follows his words.

“Lay down,” Gale moves aside and helps Bucky recline. He pulls the blanket over him and places his hand on his forehead, frowning at the heat he feels.

“Stop worrying,” Bucky tells him, blinking slowly at him.

“You always worry about me,” Gale points out. “Let me have my turn.”

He smooths his hand through Bucky’s curls, letting his fingers scritch his scalp, satisfied when Bucky’s eyes close and a look of contentment stretches across his features.

“Can you lay down with me?” Bucky’s rough voice asks.

And Gale knows he shouldn’t. Knows any one of the guys could come back for any number of reasons at any time. Knows he won’t have an explanation for being in Bucky’s cot with him. Knows the last thing Bucky’s fever needs is another warm body against his.

“Please,” Bucky opens his eyes and pushes head more firmly into Gale’s hand. “Just want to lay with you for a little bit. Just till I fall asleep?”

And how can Gale say no to him? He’s sick and tired and feels miserable and for some reason the only thing, the only person he lets see it all is him. Gale doesn’t know what he did to deserve that trust, but he’ll do anything to keep it. He’s never had anyone need him like Bucky does, never had anyone want him like he does, and he’s definitely never had anyone love like he does. Gale couldn’t say no for anything in the world.

He leans forward and presses his lips to Bucky’s over-heated forehead before crawling onto the cot. Bucky scoots over and pushes Gale on his back, arranges him how he wants him. He smiles at him, slow and sweet and then plops down, lays his head down so it’s pillowed on Gale’s chest, arm thrown over his waist.

Gale turns his head so his lips rest on the crown of his head, nose in his damp curls and puts his arm around Bucky’s back to hold him in place as he goes boneless against him.

“Can you pet my hair again?” Bucky’s sleep-deep voice mumbles into his chest and Gale huffs a laugh. But he brings his other hand up and buries it in his curls, scratches at his scalp.

“Go to sleep Bucky,” he soothes.

“Love you, Buck.”

Gale smiles into his hair and holds him a little closer.

[loucifersbitch]

wasn't tagged by anyone, just wanted to share from the wip i've been working on 💚 affectionately called The Kink Club Fic

*editing to add, I was tagged by @loveyouanyway 💚✨

Buck’s leg hasn’t stopped bouncing, and he makes a conscious effort to relax and be still. He wants this. He knows he wants this. He’s 31 years old, has recently come to realize his jealousy of other men was actually attraction, and he wants - no, he needs a man to take him apart. Almost as if on cue, the door handle on the opposite side of the room turns. The fluttery feeling in Buck’s belly becomes a full swarm when the man walks in. He had seen the man around the club before he took his year-long break, but he’d never allowed himself to actually look.  The first thing he notices is that the man is tall. Really tall. As tall as Buck himself, if not taller. He’s also broad in a way that Buck has always admired but never tried to achieve. And he’s very attractive with bright blue eyes and a strong jaw. Buck’s eyes follow the line of that jaw until he gets to the cleft in the man’s chin. He feels himself twitch in his boxers, and the man hasn’t even walked into the room properly.  Buck’s mouth is suddenly dry, and he hears his throat click when he tries to swallow. His dom comes fully into the room, closing the door behind himself. His eyes lock with Buck’s, and a soft smile spreads across his face. Maybe he recognizes Buck, too. He can’t seem to find his voice to ask at the moment.

“Hey,” he says quietly, his voice deeper than Buck expected.  Buck tries to respond, but it comes out as more of a squeak. He clears his throat, and finally stutters out, “H- hi.” The dom’s smile grows, and Buck notices he scrunches up his nose and crinkles appear at the outer corners of his eyes. And he has dimples. Oh, Buck is so fucked. He sits stock still and tries to keep breathing as the dom walks toward him, eyes never leaving Buck’s. He doesn’t stop until he’s right in front of Buck, not touching, but Buck can feel his body heat through the fabric of his jeans. The dom tilts his head, considering. Buck can hardly breathe at the intensity in his eyes. Then he’s stepping forward and settling himself between Buck’s thighs. Buck’s breath hitches as the dom places two fingers under his chin to tilt his face up. The dom leans in, stopping when his nose is nearly touching Buck’s. “Have you eaten recently?” Buck takes a few seconds to process what his dom had said. That was not what he was expecting. “Uh, wh- what?” The dom only smiles and repeats his question. “Have you eaten recently? You look a little pale.” “Oh, uh,” Buck stutters, “I - I think an hour ago? I ate before I left work.” “You ate before you left work -,” his dom repeated, leaving the end of the sentence open. “S- sorry, uh - I ate before I left work, sir.” His dom smiles softly, then says, “Good boy.” A pleasant shiver runs down Buck’s spine at the praise. “Always eat before we scene. I don’t want you coming in when you’re hungry, okay?” his dom continues on, his thumb brushing across Buck’s lower lip. “Yes, sir,” Buck says. He sounds breathless already, and he would be embarrassed, but this guy is mesmerizing. Plus he doesn’t seem the type to make fun of him for it. In fact, his eyes only seem to get warmer. His thumb finishes its trek across Buck’s lip, then slips forward to rest on his lip and pauses, eyebrows lifting as if asking for permission. Buck nods minutely, and the thumb slides into his mouth, bypassing his teeth to sit on his tongue. The dom doesn’t press down, he just lets it sit there for a minute, studying Buck’s reaction. Not one to pass up an opportunity, Buck seals his lips around his dom’s thumb, sucking gently. His dom hums in approval, his eyes darkening further. “I saw you wrote on your form that you have an oral fixation,” he says, his voice somehow dropping even further. Buck gives a quiet, “mhm,” around the digit in his mouth. He’s not going to deny it. He knows full well that it’s true. To drive the point home, he runs his tongue along the pad and then around the tip of the thumb. A small gasp escapes between his dom’s lips, and Buck smirks. Then his mouth is suddenly empty. His dom takes a purposeful step back and says, “Strip and kneel.”

[ktempestbradford]

Lactation Influencers... Are Y'all Okay?

I dislike clickbait headlines as much as the next Gen Xer, but that does not make me immune to them. Thus, when I saw this headline...

Cookbook author speaks out following controversy over lactation cookies ad

...I had so many questions that demanded answers. I had to click.

Friends, I was not prepared for the journey I was about to embark on.

Before I even got to the first line of the article, this assaulted my eyes:

Whatever I was expecting, it wasn't that.

From the article:

Molly Baz is speaking out following controversy over a Times Square billboard featuring the pregnant cookbook author promoting lactation cookies. ... Brex, the company that sponsored Swehl's billboard, told ABC News the ad was removed following a message from Clear Channel, which owns the digital billboard. According to Brex, Clear Channel said the image depicted was "flagged for review."

Okay, but... lactation cookies?

According to Baz, the concept was meant to "empower" pregnant women and the cookies in the ad are marketed to help postpartum moms produce nutrient-dense breast milk.

*looks it up*

Y'all. They're called "BIG TITTY COOKIES"

I'll give you a minute to breathe through it.

Eye-rolling aside, this isn't the worst product I've ever heard of and, hey, maybe the cookies are good.

So why did Clear Channel want the ad gone? The answer to that isn't straightforward for a couple of reasons.

They did not remove the ad or even ask it to be removed from their billboard.

Molly Baz decided to use this opportunity tragedy to raise her profile as a lactation influencer the alarm about how men are misogynist (????).

"It's super disheartening and infuriating to me that my, kind of, first public foray into being a public mother was one that was deemed inappropriate," Baz said. Said Baz, "From my perspective, the imagery that we put together was no different from any of the other ads that are in Times Square." "[T]ake one look at the landscape of other billboards in times square and i think you'll see the irony. bring on the lingerie so long as it satiates the male gaze," Baz wrote...

I feel I can confidently say that I'm not being sex negative when I retort: MA'AM, what?

"There's a bit of a history of, I will say, a double standard that when bodies, specifically breasts are shown when it comes to selling lingerie, let's say, that's more acceptable but when it's something having to do with prenatal wellness or postnatal care, nursing, that tends to get flagged and we see a little bit of backlash," [Zoe Ruderman, a chief content officer for Adweek], added.

I know this is true in general, but in this case, is that what's really going on? After all, Clear Channel didn't even take the ad down permanently, and the marketing company provided an alternate ad without even being asked. One has to wonder if this is a manufactured controversy.

I say that even though I know full well that there is a double standard when it comes to women's bodies and whose gaze is being catered to and when it comes to lactating mothers, lactation, and women's health. That said, there's no way this image wasn't chosen for its Male Gaze Worthiness.

It's not the amount of exposed flesh, which isn't any worse than any lingerie or bikini ad. It is that this woman is holding cookies up to her breasts next to text that says "Just add milk" and the name of a website/company that is probably well-known to people who are or want to be pregnant and little known outside of that. If I were in Times Square, looked up, and saw that? I'd assume it's an ad for a sex fetish bakery.

In all honesty, the thing I assumed was controversial (before clicking) was that someone had posted an ad for cookies made using human breast milk. That would have made somewhat more sense as a controversy.

There's no way everyone involved in "concepting" this campaign (yes, they used concept as a verb in their official statement) didn't know this was a possible reaction or outcome. They appear to have expected it. Which is why they immediately had another ad to replace it and some very RAH RAH WOMEN! Down with the Patriarchy! social media posts likely on deck. That's real feminist of you, becky.

The disingenuousness of it all bothers me the most. Just because the social justice issue they're highlighting is real doesn't mean they are somehow champions of the cause because they dared to show a pregnant belly on a billboard. If anyone complained, I doubt their complaint was based on a prejudice against lactating mothers or that lactation was hinted at.

[cloudyeventss]

I thought I try my hand at writing a little story about being 141's assistant. I'm not sure where I'm taking this or even if I should continue. Let me knoww but be sweet. This is literally my first attempt at writing anything

Warnings~ cussing, slightly anxious ? Idk

Y/n pov

He's staring right at me. Slouching slightly to his left, strands of blue dyed hair peeking out underneath his hat. He clearly hasn't been sleeping, I can see the dark circles under his eyes. I don't think I’ve seen him blink once. This is too much. Too fucking much I'm starting to fidget with the belt of my purse, shifting back n forth trying to ease my nerves. I'm overwhelmed and overestimated. This bus smells worse than a gas station bathroom, it doesn't help it’s hotter than the damn desert in here, my sweater is starting to itch and the constant sound of the buses bell going off is enough to make my head explode. GOD why did my car have to break down today? sweat is beading my forehead I feel nauseous. GOD DOES THIS MAN EVER BLINK?!? *ding* fuck finally my stop. I've never been more relieved in my life to leave somewhere... stepping outside I feel like I can breathe again not by much though, last night, laying in bed i got a call from my father's friend Laswell telling me to meet her at a Cafe not too far from my home. Usually, I wouldn't be so nervous to see her, being Laswell and my father worked together for the past 10 years. She’s been around quite a few times but this time She spoke about a potential job opportunity as an assistant overseas. I'm not even sure I heard her right, i was a bottle deep into Apothic red wine. Nothing special but drink enough it’ll knock you on your ass. I've been anxious ever since. After finishing my associates degree in mind and body psychology, I wasn't sure I wanted to continue with school. Maybe I just need a break, but I also need a job. I take one final deep breath to attempt to calm my nerves as I wipe my sweaty palms down my jeans. Okay now’s the time to be confident y/n don't freak out .....

There she is sitting with her back against the wall right in between both exits like always. I'd say she's paranoid but with the work she does it's more justifiable. Laswell stands to greet me "Y/n , it's great to see you!" She moves to sit, and I follow. " it's good to see you too Kate, it's been awhile" . Lunch goes by smoothly; it always was easy falling into conversation with her. A red headed waitress with long legs and black trim glasses drops us our check before walking off to tend to her other tables. My eyes follow her as she passes, she's one of those girls who are effortlessly beautiful. Laswell gains my attention again " so your father tells me you are looking for work"

" I am"

"I could use someone I trust"

"Tell me more"

.....

It'd been two weeks since I met with Laswell, and I accepted the job offer. She explained it mainly consist of filing paperwork and doing whatever task ask of me, running errands, and so on. Kate didn't really give me any details of who I'd work for, just that it was four men she trusted with her life and assured me I'd be in good hands. Today's the day I get on a plane and uproot my whole life. I spent every bit of yesterday taking care of last-minute arrangements. I sold my piece of shit Honda to some high school kid . I almost felt bad for taking his money, but I told him of its issues. In a way I'ma miss Johnny. I named my car after a porn star, Johnny Sins. Ha. It still makes me chuckle . My honda wasn't much, but it always got me where I needed to be hints the name. After taking care of my car I went to see my father. He graciously agreed to look after my apartment for me while I was gone. We spent the rest of the evening watching old westerns on TV and saying our goodbyes.

.....

It's only four hours into the flight, and I'm already regretting my decision. I've spent most of the time in the bathroom emptying my stomach while avoiding angry knocks on the door. The taste of bile in my mouth makes me a little less caring about the people outside. Deciding I can't spend the rest of the flight in the bathroom, I pick myself off the floor and do my best to rinse my mouth. Flying has never sat right with me. I like my feet on the ground instead of tempting God. Regardless, I have to tough it out, its not like I can get them to land now. I walk out the restroom, mumbling hushed, apologizes, and take my seat. Just six more hours.. you got this y/n.

[chuuyasheaven]

Is the near year prompt stuff still available? 😭😭

In either case i read one of your chuuya smuts and im OBSESSED i loveee your writing so if it works, prompt 1 with Chuuya or prompt 11 with chuuya and dazai? 💛😭

Thanks if you do and its okay if you dont!! i hope you have an awesome day<3

ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ; 01: Breeding Kink, 11: Threesome 2.0

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ; Chuuya and Dazai fucking you and filling up ur cunt until their cum drips.<3

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs; Threesome (M/F/M), Fem!Reader (she/her), Porn without plot, literally being sandwiched between them (living my dream), Breeding kink (duh.)

ɴᴏᴛᴇs; OMFG. I WAS SO HAPPY WHEN I GOT THIS REQUEST!!!1!! Also still working on other Requests rn bcs school started..but still thx and take care!!! :)

You don't know how it happened.

But now you were laying between two handsome men, Chuuya Nakahara and Dazai Osamu.

Of course you weren't complaining, infact you were really enjoying this.

All the air in the room was sticky and smelled like hot sex. You were already on your 3rd orgasm, nothing else matters right now.

That's what they fucked into your pretty little head. But also into your stuffed, abused cunt.

While Dazai was under your body, Chuuya was on top. Both of their cocks filled up your needy cunt.

While Dazai also used the opportunity to whisper sweet nothings into your ear and Chuuya pants them out loud.

“F-fuck! Don't you feel full already, baby? Or should we keep fucking our cum into your fucking cunt until you drip on the sheets? Hm?” Chuuya said while feeling his orgasm nearing.

Dazai on the other hand, was remaining his composure. Sure, he had some pants and even moans ripped from him, but Dazai wanted to make sure still you're on earth, because you started drooling.

“Hey, bella, are you still there or are you already fucked out? Did you go dumb on our cocks filling you?” Dazai panted into your ear.

This was too much.

There was enough cum dripping out your cunt.

But this was too addictive.

This was too good to stop.

But the overstimulation sent you to cloud nine. Because, Dazai just whispering these things, and Chuuya panting them out again but more aggressive.

You felt yourself clenching around them. The both grunted and panted at the feeling. As you released, they both did too after a few thrusts.

Everyone was panting. Trying to catch their breath.

But they still didn't pull out. They remained like this for few minutes until Dazai spoke.

“Wow. This is a huge amount of cum, angel. Aren't you worried that you might get pregnant?”, Chuuya just looked at the both of you and answered.

“If we pull out, the it'll drip on the sheets. So we might as well fuck our cum deeper, isn't that right, baby?”, his voice was still raspy from the amazing sex you three had.

And just reminding you of it, made you clench.

Both of the men realize that and smirk.

“Oh? You'd actually like that? Aren't you a wild one, bella.” Dazai teased.

“Well, what are we waiting for? If my angel wants it, let's give it to her. She deserves it for taking us so well.” Chuuya added.

“Okay, sweetheart, you deserve it. Let's begin..” Dazai agreed.

Oh boy, this was gonna be a busy night..

But like you said,

you're not complaining.

[tj-dragonblade]

[FLUFFBRUARY FIC] A Sweet Romance Beginning In a Queue

Rated: T Word Count: 4551 Tags: Fluffbruary, Fluffbruary 2024, fluff, human AU, rain, writer!Dream, professor!Hob, song-based meet-cute, clumsy metaphors

Notes: This is springboarding entirely from Bus Stop by The Hollies; shoutout to @valeriianz for suggesting this song would make a great Dreamling fic many many months ago. I thought Fluffbruary Day 3 would be a good opportunity to bang it out real quick but uh. It didn't want to flow, so I've just been rolling additional days into it all month. Also went a wee bit off-script from the song but. I'm pleased enough with what it's turned out to be. Prompts listed at the end.

Summary: Bus stop, wet day, he's there, I say, 'Please share my umbrella'

On AO3

It's the first day of the new term and the sky is overcast, threatening rain as Hob steps off the bus at his connecting stop. He's got his umbrella and his overcoat and his bag is water-resistant; his stop on the other end is very near the college and he's feeling well-prepared should the weather follow through on its threat.

Which of course it does, not half a minute later, and Hob deploys his umbrella with a sigh. There are a handful of other people waiting at the stop who do the same.

And one who does not.

He's pale and pretty, and tall, and dark—dark trousers, dark peacoat, dark hair, which is well on its way to getting thoroughly soaked as the skies open up in earnest. He appears to be lacking an umbrella entirely. Hob, who these days makes conscious effort to be a Good Samaritan whenever he can, and who also maybe thinks that attractively-pale men dressed in black who forget their umbrellas are worth at least a 'hello', moves quickly.

"Share my umbrella? Please." He's holding it over the guy as he speaks, but they'll have to squish up a bit to get maximum benefit for either of them.

"…Thank you," the guy says, shuffling closer; their shoulders touch. He is stiff, awkward, and yeah okay Hob can understand; courtesy in rainy weather or not, they're still complete strangers.

"Hell of a day to forget your umbrella, yeah?" Hob rolls his shoulders and shifts, putting himself more or less back-to-back with the guy so they fit better.

"Quite," comes the answer. His voice is low and rumbly, pleasantly dark without being bass-deep; it's oddly appealing.

Hob shrugs. "We've all been there. And hey, I'm glad to share."

"Again. Thank you." There's a touch more warmth this time, and Hob smiles to himself.

They pass a moment in silence, save for the drumming of rain against the umbrella and the splashing of cars in the street, and then the bus is pulling up to the stop. The guy steps toward it, first in line, and Hob follows with the umbrella, then lets the other three people board ahead of him.

Which means, once he's boarded and tapped in, the only open seat is serendipitously next to his slightly-soggy goth stranger. Who makes eye contact and holds it as Hob approaches, scoots just that little bit closer to the window to make clear he doesn't mind Hob taking the seat beside him, and Hob is quietly thrilled at the subtle welcome.

"Are you a conversationalist, or a ride-in-silence enthusiast?" he asks, as the bus lurches into motion.

"Ordinarily, the latter," the guy admits, glancing briefly at Hob. "But, as I stormed out with neither book nor earbuds, and I find myself with a chivalrous seat partner, perhaps I could be persuaded to the former just this once."

"Very kind, thank you," Hob says, with a smile. "'Stormed out' doesn't sound promising; feel like unburdening to a friendly ear? I'd be happy to listen, if so. Or find something else entirely to talk about if not."

His stranger turns to the window, watching the rivulets of rain trailing over the glass; there is a brief lull before he speaks. "I find myself creatively blocked, and my sister's attempts to be helpful. Were not." He sighs. "I left the house to clear my head, before saying anything truly unkind."

"Smart," Hob agrees. He could listen to this guy talk all day, his rumbly words and his dark-velvety voice.

"'Smart' would have been making certain to grab more than just my phone and wallet." There's a pretty little scowl accompanying the words, that rosy mouth plumped out in the faintest pout visible in his reflection in the window, and Hob is smitten.

"That may be, but then I'd hardly have had reason to say hello, and we'd both be sitting here reading our books politely ignoring one another. Silver lining?"

"Perhaps," the guy says, but it sounds agreeable enough. Hob likes to think he's a decent judge of unspoken communication and that he could tell if he was being a bother. Currently his stranger is glancing over Hob's bag and his attire with a curious and observant eye, posture reserved but not closed off, and Hob figures he's doing alright.

"Where are you headed, then—work?" the guy asks.

"Yeah, I teach at the college, medieval history, now and then a class in medieval lit too."

The guy's attention goes from merely polite to genuinely interested. "Oh?"

"Yep!" Hob's heart rate bumps up a notch at the light in those (gorgeous) blue eyes; the sudden intensity of this stranger's focus is heady.

He's turned in his seat, angled to somewhat face Hob, gaze bright, expression open. "I imagine that is a difficult sell to many students."

"Oh my friend, you have no idea!" Delighted with his good fortune, Hob launches into tales of his most recalcitrant classes and the victories he's won in inciting and maintaining student interest. He's good at talking, and enjoys doing it, and this pretty stranger is paying genuine attention to him, and so Hob prattles on enthusiastically as the bus trundles steadily through the rain.

~ "This is me," Hob says, as the bus pulls up to the college stop. "It was delightful chatting with you, and I hope your day improves from here!"

"It already has, thank you."

The tiny smile that the stranger offers in parting buoys Hob's spirits all the way to his office.

~ Tuesday is miserably wet again and Hob checks for his stranger at the bus stop, hopeful (yes alright, perhaps he's got a bit of a crush), but there's no sign of him. It's earlier than it was yesterday though, on account of his 8 a.m. lecture this morning, so there's no reason to think he'd be there again. Plus he'd talked about 'storming out' and 'clearing his head'; it wasn't like this stop was a daily transfer point the way it was for Hob.

Chances were good they'd never cross paths again.

~ Wednesday it's less a downpour and more a light shower, but it's still enough that an umbrella is practical.

And Hob is absolutely delighted as he steps off his first bus to see that Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Emo is there again, and again without an umbrella, hunched ineffectually into the collar of his coat and resembling nothing so much as a disgruntled wet cat. He perks up distinctly as Hob approaches with his umbrella angled forward in offering.

"You gallantly come to my rescue yet again." He tilts his head and glances up through lush black lashes, just this side of coy. "I thank you, sincerely, Mr…?"

"Hob, I'm Hob. Just Hob. You can call me Hob." Not his most suave, certainly, but this blatantly-flirtatious greeting atop his own delight has somewhat stolen his functioning brain cells.

"Hob," the guy repeats, unhurried, like he's savoring the taste of the name in his mouth, and smiles just a little bit. "You may call me Dream."

"Pleased to run into you again, Dream." Hob dimples brightly, delighted with the turn his day has taken, delighted that they've made proper introductions. "How was the head-clearing, the other day?"

"Effective." The guy—Dream—crowds close under the umbrella (Hob's largest, which he had pulled out yesterday just in case) and smooths the clinging water from his hair with one hand. His (damp) shoulder is firmly pressed against Hob's and his profile is absolutely beautiful, this close. Hob tries not to stare.

"Got your creativity flowing again, did it?"

"I managed to finish a very troublesome chapter Monday evening, yes."

Hob perks up at this new tidbit of information. "You're a writer, then?"

He gives a short nod, staring out into the rain, then glances sideways at Hob. "I have you to thank for my progress, also."

"Me?"

"The stories you shared…you inspired a direction for the scene that was plaguing me. I came out yesterday, with intent to thank you, but you were not here…?"

His voice lilts up just a touch on the end of his sentence, curiosity expressed without actually voicing the question, and Hob just smiles. "Yeah, Tuesday's my early-morning class. Sorry I missed you."

"No matter. I have now left the house three days in a row and my sister is distressingly pleased about it. She says it is good for my mental health."

"And what do you think?"

He sighs, heavily. "She is not incorrect." He glances sideways at Hob again, eyes narrowed prettily. "But I am not going to admit it to her."

Hob laughs; he can't help it. "You are so completely valid for that," he says, and when Dream smiles in return his spirits soar.

~ "Remembered your umbrella this time, I see!" Hob ignores the little pang of disappointment; just because he doesn't need to share his umbrella with Dream this time doesn't mean they can't still have a conversation.

"My sister reminded me, yes," Dream answers, and then to Hob's great surprise he lowers and closes the umbrella. "But I would prefer to share yours, if you're amenable." His eyes flick up, just a hint of hopeful uncertainty showing there.

"Of course." Hob moves close, brings his umbrella over Dream's head, heart thudding in his chest with delight. He hopes the great spreading grin on his face doesn't put Dream off; he can't quite get it under control.

If Dream notices, he gives no indication. "This routine is working well for me," he says, and it takes Hob a second to cotton on to what he means.

"What, catching the bus in the rain every morning?"

"Yes," Dream says serenely. "The company is. Refreshing." The corners of his mouth tilt up the smallest bit.

"Nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," Hob says, making a valiant effort to sound normal while something warm blooms in the vicinity of his heart. He shifts the umbrella, making sure they're both still sheltered.

"Writing flows more easily when I return home after our morning conversations," Dream says, as if this is something they've been doing for weeks instead of just days. "I shall have to credit you in my author's notes."

Hob laughs, absolutely delighted. "That is extremely flattering, my friend, but wholly unnecessary. But if I'm at all helpful? I'm glad."

One day maybe he'll ask if he can see Dream's writing, when they've been acquainted for more than a week; one day further, perhaps, he'll ask him on a date. It certainly seems he'd be amenable, but Hob knows himself and his tendency to rush in full-tilt and tells himself there's no harm in just. Seeing what happens, for a little while.

~ "Share my umbrella?"

Dream looks askance at him, hair fluttering prettily across his forehead in the breeze. "It is not raining, Hob."

"Well no, but. Bit windy, isn't it? Wouldn't want you to suffer any windburn. Umbrella makes a decent wind-break." He has oh-so-smoothly said 'wind' three times in ten seconds, and it is the flimsiest of excuses to begin with, but Dream only smiles as if he's said something profoundly wise.

"Indeed. Truly, I am fortunate to receive your continued chivalry." He crowds in close to Hob, who angles the umbrella behind them to keep the wind off, and smiles.

~ The other patrons at the bus stop are giving Hob weird looks as he opens his umbrella, but there's only one person here whose opinion matters.

Dream tilts one eyebrow up, amused. "The sun is shining today, Hob Gadling. Yet still you offer your umbrella?"

"It's tradition, at this point. And besides—got a very fair complexion, haven't you? Bit of shade will do you good."

"…As you say." His smile is radiant as the sunshine, and Hob's heart thumps happily. "Thank you."

~ It's been about a month since that first meeting when Hob leaves campus for the afternoon and finds Dream waiting at the college bus stop. The morning's rain has cleared throughout the day but now rises again as a light drizzly mist; Dream is huddled into the meager shelter offered over the bench while pulling out his umbrella. Hob hurries over with his own already deployed, playing into their established pattern.

"Fancy meeting you here?" he greets, smiling. He's delighted to run into Dream outside their developed routine, and the way that Dream kind of blooms to see him is very satisfying.

"Hob. At last," Dream smiles, ducking under Hob's broad umbrella.

"Been waiting long?"

"…Somewhat. You see. I have. A question, I would like to ask you. An important one." The gravity in his tone is clear, and Hob might be worried if it wasn't so plainly obvious that Dream was nervous. "But I do not know your schedule, beyond your morning commute, and so…"

"Have you just been hanging around half the day waiting for me to show up?" Hob is equal parts appalled and delighted.

Dream meets his eyes briefly, glance flicking away again too quickly to interpret as anything other than confirmation. "Perhaps."

Hob laughs, aware he should possibly be alarmed by what any normal person would read as stalking behavior but utterly charmed by it instead. "Your patience has its reward, then. What was it you wanted to ask me?"

"I…ah." Dream colors prettily, the faintest pink flush across his cheeks as he stumbles over actually speaking his question, and Hob is rapidly escalating from 'charmed' to 'enamoured'. "I am not. Good, at—at—"

"Obviously it was important enough to identify my most likely location and wait hours for me to show up, right?" Hob cuts in gently. "Go ahead. I promise I won't judge you." He can hear the fondness seeping into his own voice, and apparently so can Dream. He lifts wide eyes to Hob, lips pressed together resolutely, and heaves a fortifying breath out through his nose.

"I wish to ask. Would you like to have dinner sometime. Or. Or coffee, perhaps."

The bus pulls up at that exact moment, disgorging a single passenger; Hob barely hesitates before waving the driver on.

"That was our bus?" Dream states, lilting up in such a way that it's clear he means Why did we not board, why are we still standing here?

"Well, yes," Hob agrees, very aware of the size of the dopey grin on his face. "But you see, a very dear friend of mine has just asked if I might like a bite to eat with him, and I know the most amazing little spot right around the corner."

"That. That is 'yes', then? Now?" Dream seems delightedly flummoxed, and it ratchets Hob straight up to 'besotted'. How could Dream think he'd ever say anything else? Although it occurs to him belatedly Dream might have other obligations for the evening.

"Well 'now' is certainly 'sometime', yes? If you're free, that is. If you've something else you have to do—"

"No. Nothing else," Dream cuts him off, and the warm smile spreading over his face makes Hob's heart skip a beat. "There is nowhere I should like to be more, just now."

Of course not, not when he'd dedicated the bulk of his day to waiting for Hob just to ask him out. "Wonderful. Shall we?" He offers his arm, angling the umbrella to keep the misty sprinkle off them still.

Dream tucks a hand into his elbow and falls into step beside him.

~ "Wanna try mine?" Hob offers, plucking a crispy slab of cheese from his plate with a bit of everything on it and holding it out, other hand cupped underneath. They are talking over plates of halloumi fries; Hob had gone for his favorite—smothered in pomegranate molasses and za'atar yoghurt with pomegranate arils and fresh mint garnish—and Dream had taken his drizzled in honey and sprinkled with sesame seeds.

"Thank you, I am fine," Dream says, rote politeness in his voice but curiosity in his eyes, and Hob arches a brow.

"Worried you'll have to spend a month stuck with me for each pomegranate seed?"

"That would hardly dissuade me," Dream replies, with a sweet little smile that hits Hob straight in the gut. "Very well, since you offer so generously." He leans forward, grasps Hob's wrist instead of the proffered food, and bites through the warm-crusted cheese while Hob's still holding it, lips brushing Hob's fingers as he pulls back.

He chews, making a contemplative face, and gently plucks the rest of it from Hob's hand while Hob is still scrambling to reboot his poor blue-screening brain and not make a fool of himself.

"Do you know," Hob blurts, grasping for anything, "whatever Persephone might have eaten in the underworld, it would've bound her there the same? It wasn't just because it was a pomegranate?"

"I did know that, yes," Dream replies, and Hob feels the flush of having said something fairly stupid rising into his face. "The pomegranate is a tidy choice for enumerating the months she stays below, I think, with the countable seeds." He plucks one of the ruby-red arils from the cheese that Hob had given him between two delicate fingertips and places it in his mouth, eyes on Hob in a way that makes him lose his brain again.

"Yes that's. Good point," Hob tries, and thankfully Dream pops the rest of the halloumi fry into his mouth without any fanfare or continued eye contact.

"I can see why you like this," Dream says, once his mouth is empty. "It is a wonderful blend of flavors. But the honey-sesame remains my favorite." He takes a bite from his own plate, and Hob tries not to fixate on the casual way he licks the honey off his rose-petal lips.

"I wrote an alternate version of Persephone's story, once," Dream says then, eyes not exactly meeting Hob's or even on his face, darting between his shoulder and his sternum and dropping back to his plate. "I made it her choice; they met and fell in love long before the abduction, which was closer to an elopement. She ate the pomegranate seeds deliberately so as not to be taken away from the partner she had chosen. In my version, it was the pomegranate specifically that would bind her."

"That sounds brilliant," Hob says, feeling a little starry-eyed; Dream has never really talked specifics about his writing before. "I'd love to read it sometime."

"It. Was many many years ago, before I ever considered publication," Dream admits, barely glancing up at Hob, still a little skittish. "I thought it a unique idea at the time, but there are dozens of Persephone remixes to be had and I have never felt it warranted the effort of reworking it from my current skill level or attempting to publish."

"Well for what it's worth, your version is the remix I'd be most interested in reading," Hob says, utterly sincere, smiling from ear to ear. "If you ever wanted to share, that is." He bites into another halloumi fry and speaks around it. "I would never pressure you to let me read your stuff if you don't want to. But I'm always interested."

"…Thank you." Dream covers his awkwardness with another dainty bite from his own plate, a hint of pink dusting across his cheekbones. When his mouth is empty again, he offers, "Mostly I have written. Romance."

"Oh?"

"Not under my own name. But yes."

"See it's fascinating that pseudonyms are so prevalent through the ages, and for so many reasons," Hob starts, and as the conversation turns in this new direction Hob does not miss how Dream relaxes to have the focus shifted from the vulnerable personal glimpse of himself he'd offered.

And Hob maybe falls a little bit deeper.

~ It's still lightly raining three hours later; they've talked about so many things, they've had dessert and then had coffee since neither of them were ready to leave yet. It's dark by the time they finally head back to the bus stop; Dream presses up against Hob's side beneath the umbrella and Hob thrills at the warmth, the closeness, the graceful slide of Dream's hand into his and the way he doesn't let go until the bus shows up.

~ It's raining again the first time Hob kisses Dream, pulling him close beneath the umbrella outside the theater, one finger tipped beneath Dream's chin; the kiss is tentative, but Dream's mouth is warm and the way he lists gently forward has Hob coming back again, soft and sweet and smiling helplessly.

~ Three straight days of rain are clearing on the afternoon that Dream takes Hob to the bookstore and leads him to the romance section, points him to a shelf in the 'M's where there are a dozen or so titles by Morpheus, mononymous. Hob doesn't make the connection for a second, and then he does.

"Is this you?" he asks, reaching for one of the hardbacks, and sure enough there's Dream's photo inside the dust jacket, solemn and styled and somehow less authentic than the Dream standing nervously next to him.

"Yes," Dream confirms, and soft warmth floods Hob's chest. Dream has been very reserved about his writing—"It is one thing to publish for strangers, but I find it…much more difficult to share, when it is someone whose opinon matters to me personally," he'd said once, and being trusted, opened up to like this—Hob is not oblivious to the privilege of it.

"You've certainly written a lot," he says, warmth and fondness curling in his chest. "And you're okay with me reading any of these?"

"Yes; however—" he reaches into the messenger bag slung over his hip, withdraws a large clear envelope with what looks like a manuscript inside. "If you wish to read my writing, I would have you begin with this." He hands it to Hob.

Hades and Persephone: The Morpheus Remix the paper proclaims through the plastic, and Hob looks up at Dream, delighted. "Is this—?"

"It needs a proper title." Dream shrugs, hunches into his coat a little bit. "I would like—perhaps you might help me come up with one, as it was you who inspired me to revisit and update it."

Hob cannot for the life of him stop the broad smile that overtakes his face, is not even trying. "I would be honored."

~ It is raining buckets the night that Dream comes home with Hob, and even the umbrella is not enough to prevent their getting a bit wet. But that's alright, Hob thinks, with Dream's eager mouth warm and hungry on his as they move in the direction of his bedroom, it's not like their clothes were staying on anyway.

He lays Dream gently in his bed, covers him with his own body, makes love to him with slow and ardent urgency while the rain lashes against his window. Later, after, when the winds have calmed and thunder rumbles soothingly in the distance, he holds Dream curled against him, asleep, and he thinks. He thinks about umbrellas, and shielding, and guardedness, and how Dream has slowly gifted so many of his vulnerabilities to Hob; he thinks about the duality of potential in that realization, the power it gives him to either harm or protect, and vows to himself that he will always be Dream's metaphorical umbrella when it's within his capabilities.

~ It's sprinkling just a little when Hob realizes that he's going to marry Dream.

It's early Autumn and they're at the park; Dream is under his own umbrella (look, sometimes sharing just isn't practical, as much as Hob still loves faithfully carrying on their schtick), scattering peas and grapes for the ducks and Hob is hanging back, watching him with an aching fondness in his heart.

Dream is beautiful, and thoughtful, and engaging. He is guarded and private, but so warm and emotional and giving once he has let you in. He is smart, and witty, with the driest sense of humor and the most endearingly terrible laugh and Hob has fallen desperately in love with him along the way.

He watches as a particularly bold duck comes close and snaps up the pea that had fallen directly at the toe of Dream's boot; watches the soft delight that steals over Dream's face, and he knows.

~ It is the following Spring before he asks. They are at the bus stop where they first met and it's a bright sunny day; Hob's got the umbrella up and they're shoulder-to-shoulder beneath it. Dream is animated, excited, talking about his editor's latest feedback on his Persephone remix (The Seeds of Fate, they had decided to call it), and Hob is listening, very much interested but so so nervous. The little velvet box on his pocket is weighty, not physically of course but he can't stop touching it, hoping Dream will say yes, believing Dream will say yes.

At last, Dream turns to him, a little wrinkle of concern between his brows. "You feel…distracted; is everything alright?"

Hob smiles at him, entirely and wholeheartedly in love. He hooks the hand holding the umbrella with Dream's so their fingers are tangled together around it; he leans his forehead against Dream's, closes his eyes. "I have a question, I'd like to ask you. An important one." It's a deliberate echo of how Dream had asked him out more than a year ago; Hob can picture the way Dream smiles to recognize it, can feel one eyebrow lifting against his own.

He takes a deep breath, pulls the little box from his pocket and clicks the lid open. "Will you marry me?"

It's a quiet request, pitched low so the other couple people at the bus stop don't overhear, so that if Dream does wish to say no, he won't be under the public pressure of strangers to say yes for appearances' sake. Not that Hob expects him to say no.

He hopes he doesn't say no.

Dream pulls back and Hob opens his eyes, meeting the surprise and delight and disbelief in Dream's. Dream looks down at the ring in the open box in Hob's hand, touches a fingertip to the velvet-covered lid delicately, looks back up at Hob with joy blossoming in his face.

"Do you mean it? Truly?"

Hob swallows down the nervous lump in his throat, squeezes gently where his hand is tangled with Dream's around the handle of the umbrella. "More than anything," he murmurs, entranced by the gathering shine of happy tears in Dream's eyes. "Marry me. Please."

Dream makes a joyful little noise, wrenches his hand free and throws both arms around Hob's neck, kissing him soundly. Hob manages to snap the ring box closed and swing the umbrella low, wraps both arms around Dream's waist and kisses him back.

"Yes," Dream breathes wetly when they part a moment later. "Yes, of course yes, a thousand times, yes."

~ They marry in the park in August, the clouds high and the breeze warm. Hob puts up the umbrella when they reach the crux of the ceremony; he holds its history over them while they say their vows, while they slip rings on one another's fingers, and then they seal their marriage with a tender heartfelt kiss beneath its promise of care and protection.

= Started: 2/3/24 Drafted: 2/24/24 Posted: 2/25/24

Fluffbruary 2024 Prompts Day 3: umbrella seashore mist Day 4: camera lush beau Day 5: rescue inertia lullaby Day 6: tie embarrassment* dessert Day 7: potatoes blue glass Day 8: shower blessed layer Day 9: urgency kneel rural Day 10: flush angel owl Day 11: reflection water apology Day 12: graceful volcano blanket Day 18: suave cologne gradual* Day 19: teacakes flood feature Day 20: smooth glitters queen Day 23: rhythm chalk humor Day 24: spring fuzzy silky

*The word did not get used but the concept is very much in there

✨✨✨ Sequel: Love Rain Down On Me ✨✨✨

[blingblong55]

Hi! if you take requests I would like to make one where tf 141 + Los Vaqeros reaction to r/n coming back to the base/common room covered in blood, hurt and tortured (I love angst ngl)

( if its okay can you make a Platonic r/n with little sibling energy)

Last Words of a Shooting Star -141+ Los Vaqueros

I love angst too and because I love hurting my own feelings.... here goes a little something. Not sure if it needs a warning but, just read at your own risk babes, bc I do talk abt I guess heavy stuff (as you can tell,,,I can't tell what is and what isn't traumatizing anymore so be careful.) This one gives me Every Since New York vibes

Pt. 2

----

You had been on leave after a mission back in November. Price made sure you stayed off base for 3 months. The excuse was: they need peace for a few months, they deserve it." But instead of being home you had been captured, tortured and almost trafficked. You fought for ever second of life you knew you deserved, while being captured. No one in the team knew about any of this.

*3 MONTHS BEFORE*

"see ya later boys" you said and got in your truck. (yes you drive one bc ghost said it was a better vehicle.) Soap waved until your cars silhouette was no longer in view. He knows you'll come back with home back goodies for him. But before you passed the first stop light one car crashed into yours. Another pulled over, 4 men with guns got out. You quickly held onto your pistol, but you knew best and didn't fight them. Your left eyebrow dripping blood. You got off the car and held your hands up. "Get in the car with them" he ordered you and a big buff man pushed you around until you sat in their vehicle, "My team will be here any minute now you know." you bluffed.

"Well by the time they get here we'll be gone." and off they drove. The man sitting next to you hit your head with the end of his gun, you blacked out.

These men had carefully planned the hold kidnapping. From taking your car elsewhere to texting Price that you made it home, the same way you would've texted him.

For 3 months they tortured you, asking questions you swore you didn't have an answer to. For 2 months you believed that the team would know you'd be missing. For 1 month you planned your escape.

And as the near came close, you heard them talk about trafficking you. "Think about it boss, anyone will pay good money for a member of that task force." That's when all hope was gone. Your limbs had been slowly giving up. By this point you were sure that your plan wouldn't work.

Until you saw the perfect opportunity.

"When kidnapped remember there is a window of opportunity when being transported from location A to B, so be wise and use that."

So you did, and now you had found your way back to the base.

You managed to get pass security and into your part of the base, there you heard Gaz and Soap laughing. Your eyes watered. You walked in and held the floor as everyones eyes met you.

"Kid," was all price could let out, he soon ran to your side. Holding on to you with so much care. Soap ran out for a medic, Ghost made way as you were taken to the infirmary.

Gaz held your hand the entire time. But your grip wasn't too strong. They were all losing you.

"Cariño, don' close your eyes." fear taking control over Alejandros' voice.

Rudy ran behind you all. But soon stoped when he got a call from his team. He soon found the footage of your kidnap. Los vaqueros were all informed of what had happened. They had taken you under their wings when you first met them. You reminded them of their siblings at home. How energetic and funny you were. You like a storm, took over their hearts. "Le diré al coronel de esto." He walked away from his team and to the infirmary.

These are their own personal reactions:

Price:

The second he held you in his hands his heart completely shattered.

He hated how your body leaned against his, this time your weight much lighter.

He didn't care about anyone else in the room

There was hesitation, his first thoughts were on taking care of you, but he is a soldier first. He must know what happened and who is to blame.

For hours while the medical staff was treating your injuries, he would leaved the room, making phone calls and deals with old colleagues of his.

Ghost had to stop him from hitting a medical staff member, "sir you can't come in," "that's my soldier in there, kid needs me!" he'd say. "c'mon old man , sit down" Ghost would try and guide him back to his seat.

For minutes he was close to loosing his shit.

Once Rudy walked in with information, he went hysterical

He cursed every one and everything

He never lit a cigar, because if he did, he was afraid shit would hit the fan and he'd burn that last gift you gave him.

Soap:

He never spoke, the man that had been talking for hours before you arrival stopped.

He couldn't form any words, he thought of when he last saw you, how your eyes were so full of life, and now that image replaced a much weaker version of you.

The blood around your body he hoped was someone else's

He left the room when Price and Ghost were talking to doctors.

He discovered you had to be put in the ICU,

He cried, and as tears fell down his face, his hand made way to the cross that hanged from his neck.

The same one you gave him on his birthday, after you had found out he lost his.

He cried even more thinking of the times you and him had laughed together. How much Gaz and you made him miss his family back home.

"r/n's okay...they'll be better tomorrow" he assured himself and repeated it like a mantra.

"Please be okay" he whispered as kicked a rock while walking around.

Gaz:

Like Soap, he stayed quiet, only spoke when he made calls to his friends at the local police station.

He cried too, but he soon left once Price told him to. "take time son"

Once he reached his room, he got on his bed and hugged a pillow.

it was times like this when you'd come in and hug him. "Everything will be fine" you'd say as he embraced you.

He called him mom, something you had taught him to do, incase things went south and you wouldn't be there to listen.

The images of the torn clothes and frail body of yours came to mind every time he closed his eyes.

It was always you and Gaz who at times would fall short on the kindness of Ghost.

When he least needed it, a joke you once told him came across his train of thoughts.

He called every doctor he knew

He walked into your room and laid in your bed.

" just tell me something George,...what do you mean you don't know nothing...okay can you just pretend you do?...I need something, so tell me something"

Ghost:

This man had it bad. When he first saw you, his mind when to when he discovered his family had died

He swore he only let you in because you somehow creeped into his heart

Your jokes and attitude reminded him of his brother Tommy

"Look ghost..look" you would say as you attempted a cart wheel. 'You'll only get hurt" he'd reply. But when you did things like that, he looked at you with such adoration.

Between you two, it was black cat and golden retriever type of vibe.

He stayed next to price, but once he was alone in that hall, he almost let the guilt win.How can a man as strong as him let this happen to you

The first time he knew you'd be his family was when you held him in your arms as you two laid in a field

His tears falling down as he heard your heartbeat, "close your eyes, have no fear, the monster's gone and r/n is here," you softly sang, a giggle mixed with the melody

"beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy" you whispered as your hands caressed his hair. He closed his eyes slowly drifting to sleep. "Good night Simon, see you in the morning" you whispered against his head.

When he stopped Price from hurting that staff member, he went out and picked any flowers around base. He came back with a handful, so tiny on his palms, but so meaningful to him

He sneaked into your room, no one noticed and he sat on your bed, holding you so close to him.

"Before you cross the street, Take my hand, Life is what happens to you, While you're busy making other plans, Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, Beautiful r/n" he quietly sang to you.

Alejandro:

Once Rudy had told him they had footage of your kidnap, he lost his mind.

this man went feral, Rudy would try and stop it, but man was he furious.

"No hagas algo a lo pendejo, coronel" But he'd discard his friend and eventually after 4 hours of search, he'd find the perpetrators

We've heard people say "met hell" but these men met Alejandro and boy did they met more than hell

Idc what you say he prayed for the first time since he was a child.

While on search this man swore he heard your voice, "r/n?" he would walk around a crowd of people

for moments he believed it was all a dream or a horrible prank you managed to pull. But once he saw Rudy wipe a few tears, he knew it was real

He went numb when his hand met your skin

I swear this man got sick the moment he saw you, he never got sick when looking at anyone in the condition you were now in.

His mind went back to the times he was teaching you Spanish.

"el helicóptero no puede volar" he said, to which you replied "volar? the helicopters got no balls?" you asked and he bursted out laughing

Rudy:

this man was devastated, but he had to be the strong one while everyone wasn't

he was the one to pray while looking at the footage. "Dios mío" he kept sayin as he repeated the video.

But soon emotions took over and he left the room.

He held onto the bracelet you two bought while he showed you around his town, you had visited Las Almas long after your mission there. You two ate and ate until your stomachs hurt. "Eres mi mejor amigo Rudy." you hugged him, Alejandro sat in the front, content with you for speaking Spanish.

When he first saw how bloody you looked he went pale. It was one of the things he never knew he would see

You remind him of his siblings, annoying at times, funny, but understands his humor like no other.

This man is the biggest softie, he was always Rodolfo on the job or Rudy, but man he was someone else with ya, always soft and kind to you, his voice would switch so fast when speaking from soap to you.

He was a trained solider to withstand any form of torture, but seeing you hurt would've made that soldier talk.

When no one looked he walked into a church and confessed to a priest, then asked "por favor dime que estará bien"

When all else fails, you pray, mijo, his mother would say.

a/n: I absolutely adored writing this, so I hope you all enjoyed!

REQUEST ARE OPEN!

[cobragardens]

God Is a Creepy-Ass Meta Mfer:

A Good Omens Essay

This essay features fan theory and speculation. DO NOT TAG NEIL GAIMAN IN ANY POST THAT INCLUDES OR REFERENCES THIS ONE.

The rest of this depends on accepting the premise that God's Plan is not always inscrutable in hindsight, i.e., that parts of that Plan can be discerned or identified as such once they have happened, even if the next moves of the Plan and its ultimate Purpose remain ineffable.

If you are willing to accept that premise, then I suggest we can conclude with reasonable certainty that Thesis Statement 1: Aziraphale's act of giving Adam the First Man the flaming sword is part of God's Plan, and so was Eve and Adam eating the Fruit.

The argument for the latter has been in circulation making even the beardiest of old Christian men scratch their heads for centuries, and in Good Omens, Crowley is the first being ever to make it:

The presence of the Tree in the Garden placed by an omnipotent being with literally infinite orchard space and security technology is a clear indication that God intends humans to interact with the Tree and sets humans up in a divine entrapment operation, giving God the opportunity to curse humanity and evict them from the Garden.

Diversion onto Thesis Statement 2 bc the Essayist Got Distracted: This establishes both the Bible and Good Omens as works of literature in the cosmic horror genre (not that Good Omens doesn't do plenty of its own work in so establishing itself).

In both these stories God is a being beyond humanity's understanding, functionally omniscient and omnipotent, who first creates and then interferes with humanity for unknown reasons and who does not necessarily have humanity's best interests in mind at any point. His/er reasoning and objectives for humanity are opaque, and S/he manipulates circumstances to create excuses to do humanity as a species and sometimes specific humans harm.

If you're not already familiar, go read all the shit God curses humans with when Eve and Adam snack on the Tree's Fruit. It's frighteningly cruel, if not outright psychopathic. So is God's behavior the Book of Job, His demand that Abraham sacrifice Isaac, Mosaic Law, and the sacrifice of His/er Son. Human lives are no more significant to God than the lives of ants are to humans. This whole history of Earth? It may not even be about us. Our entire species' history may just be part of the backdrop to something else, like two angels falling in love and reuniting Heaven and Hell, or like raccoons. It could all be about the raccoons. Who knows! All of this is absolutely 100% pure undiluted cosmic horror.

Right, okay, so back to Thesis 1: In Good Omens, Aziraphale's gift to the first man of the flaming sword is an objective God wants. Here's my chain of reasoning:

The Eating of the Fruit and God's punishment were both objectives of God. See above.

2. Once those objectives had been accomplished, humankind would not have survived outside the Garden of Eden without the sword. They literally would not exist at all.

Adam the First has to kill the lion, either to keep it from killing him and Eve or to keep him and Eve from starving. No flaming sword = no humanity.

3. We know "no humanity" is not God's Plan, because--

--God says her Plan is Armageddon and the Second Coming in 6,000 years. So humanity needs to exist for either of those to occur (or for there to be any reason for adventures about averting them to occur). And God does a whole Crucifixion and Resurrection of His/er Son. So God wants humanity around and is even prepared to welcome them back into His/er grace, providing they meet certain conditions.

4. We know God is not displeased about Aziraphale's gift of the sword to humans because God asks Aziraphale about the sword, and Aziraphale lies and says he's lost it, and God, who is omniscient and therefore knows this to be a lie and knows exactly where the sword is, lets the entire thing pass unremarked. (More on this anon.)

5. It is not a reach too far to suspect this of God. She tells us Herself that she is a trickster and that we can't trust her not to deceive us:

She also tells us

i. The universe is a game she is playing for her own amusement:

🎵cosmic horror alerrrrrrrrrt!🎵🎶

ii. No one, including angels and demons, has been told the real rules of this game:

"FOR EVERYONE ELSE." Not just humans.

That's why Crowley and Aziraphale each have to wonder if they've done the right or the wrong thing: nobody's told them what the rules are. Aziraphale even thinks that Crowley's temptation of Eve is "all part of the Plan," i.e, that Crowley did the right thing by doing the wrong one. They have no way to tell, and it may be both right and wrong at the same time. (Wrestling with impossible moral conundra raised by a brief look into a story happening on a much greater level than your own? You could be suffering from our old pal Thesis 2: Good Omens is cosmic horror!)

So Aziraphale's Promethean gift to humanity was one of God's objectives, just as cursing humans and yeeting them out of the Garden with the knowledge of Good and Evil and maybe a couple apple seeds in hand was His/er objective.

BONUS! Thesis 3: So why does God bring up Aziraphale's misappropriation of the sword at all? To show us, the audience, that Aziraphale lied to Her and that his gifting of the sword to Adam is part of Her Plan.

Remember from her whole deal with the Tree: God likes to set up situations so that She can react to them. Here she lampshades her awareness of what Aziraphale has done, listens to him lie to Her about it, and then very pointedly does nothing in response to that. She wants everyone watching--i.e., Aziraphale and us--to note that she has noticed the transfer of the sword and is not displeased by it and has noticed the lie and is not going to do anything about that either.

Remember as well, God is the one controlling the narrative we see in S1 of Good Omens. She introduces and concludes the story, and she narrates the scenes of the baby-swap. She's in control of which scenes we see and the order in which we see them. Since she is the one who asked Aziraphale the question about the sword, she's also responsible for this scene's existence.

So why do I think this scene is meant for us and not Aziraphale? Two reasons. Firstly, the conversation with God doesn't do Aziraphale any good. He worries about eventually getting in trouble about the sword until 2019, around 6,000 years later.

God is both omniscient and omnipotent, so it's not possible that She failed to communicate to Aziraphale in such a way that would ease his anxiety. Therefore the conversation was not for his benefit. Again, she's omniscient, so it wasn't for Her benefit either. That leaves the only other party to this conversation: us. The audience.

The next obvious question is, Why does God want us to know that Aziraphale's gift of the flaming sword was both of his free will and part of Her Plan?

I don't know. But I think it may become important, and here is where we delve into hypothesis territory: I think Good Omens is going metafictional. I mean this in a Doki Doki Literature Club, Black Mirror: Bandersnatch way: God, the character in Good Omens, is telling us, the audience, a story.

This metafictional aspect has been with us the whole time---more precisely since 01:13 of S1E1, when God switches from third-person to first-person and addresses us the viewers directly:

And there are several more metafictional; notes in S1 and S2 that I've found so far:

Season 1

That giant eyeball up there floating in space with a bunch of arcane shit around it is a reference to the opening credits sequence of The Twilight Zone, a metafictional show in which an omniscient narrator introduces and concludes each story by addressing the audience directly.

S1E1 27:20

Season 2

1. Maggie and Nina are fictional characters, but the characters share their names with actors Maggie Service and Nina Sosanya.

2. The final credits sequence, with the split screen showing Crowley on one side and Aziraphale on the other, references David Tennant and Michael Sheen's previous/simultaneous lockdown tv series project, Staged! which is intensely metafictional and in which Tennant and Sheen play characters based on themselves and with their names.

3. Sloppy plot synopsis or something more sinister?

4. An interviewer points out that Good Omens references Doctor Who as an extant concern in-universe, which obviously stars David Tennant in the past and currently.

If you find more, please drop them in the comments!

We the audience, are meant to understand ourselves and our reality as being indirectly involved in this story. And God wants us to know 1) that Aziraphale lied to Her about giving away the sword, knowing it was futile, and 2) that his gift of the flaming sword was part of Her Plan. The former is a major character note, and probably a foreshadowing one; but I have no guesses about God's purpose in showing us that the gift of the flaming sword was also to Plan except that whatever it is will probably make me dislike Her approach to parenting even more than I already do.

What I do love about this though is that it suggests that Crowley and Aziraphale both did the right thing by doing the wrong one, i.e. achieved a kind of Schroedinger's obedience, which is nice and disturbing and surprise! pretty cosmic horror. More sweetly, though, it suggests that the two foundational gifts to humanity from the divine were motivated by Crowley's low-effort mischief and Aziraphale's kindheartedness, which is lovely to think about.

DO NOT TAG NEIL GAIMAN IN ANY POST THAT INCLUDES OR REFERENCES THIS ESSAY.

[muddy-water-1997]

𝖠𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖡𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖿𝗂𝗍𝗌

𝖳𝖶: 𝖲𝗆𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝖽𝗃𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖡𝖢 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖢𝖡 (𝗌𝖾𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗐…), 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒!

Chapter 9 - Suspense

“…and I think that’s all we have time for today, folks.” The presenter’s voice rang over the radio speakers, signalling the end of the segment. You turned to Billie with a sigh of relief and a smile. “Thank you to Stray Kids for joining us here today. Keep your ears open because we’ll be playing some of their top hits next!”

“Ms. Y/N,” Billie’s voice pulled you back into the room, “we’ll head out to the front to do the media photo opportunities next. I’ll have Theo check the area with the other bodyguards before we head out. Then the boys will follow shortly after.” You nodded at Billie and glanced at your schedule as she left the observation booth, leaving you alone for the first time in what felt like ages. Glancing at your watch, you were surprised it was already 8 PM.

“Something wrong?” Chris’s voice comes low and unexpectedly behind you; you hadn't even heard him enter the room. Before you can turn to face him, his hands are already on your waist, grounding you with their firm yet gentle grip. “You look so good in that dress. Probably one of the best choices we made out of that little haul.” His words are smooth, laced with a hint of admiration that sends a thrill through you. Frozen in place, you can only manage a soft mumble of agreement, your mind struggling to catch up with the rush of sensations. He chuckles lightly at your reaction, clearly amused by the effect he has on you. As he moves closer, the warmth of his body radiates against your back. He leans in, his breath hot against your skin, and breathes deeply, savouring the lingering trace of your perfume at the crook of your neck.

“You know,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm against your exposed skin. “I’ve been waiting to do this since the moment we met.” His lips brushed the sweet spot between your neck and shoulder, leaving a soft, lingering kiss that made your heart race. The sensation was intoxicating, and you felt a surge of gratitude for the one-sided glass that shielded you from the view of the seven other men in the studio. As his hands tightened their grip on your hips, you couldn’t help but let your eyes roll back in sheer bliss.

You let your head roll back onto his chest, savouring the firm warmth as his relentless assault on your neck continued. The sensation of his lips and teeth grazing your skin sent shivers down your spine, making your breath hitch with anticipation. You knew you would need the name of that makeup artist later, confident that the fervent passion of his kisses was leaving its mark. Slowly, you tilted your head, your lips seeking his. The world seemed to pause, everything narrowing to the space between you two. Just as you were about to capture his lips in a kiss…

“Ms Y/N, are you in there?” Billie's voice echoed into the room, interrupting the charged moment. “Theo has marked everything clear for us. I need your eyes.” A whine of frustration escaped your lips as Chris pulled away just before you could kiss him.

“Coming!” You called out, trying to steady your voice to sound as normal as possible. Reluctantly, you moved away from Chris, using your hair to cover the spot on your neck where his lips had claimed you.

“Not yet, you're not,” he whispered with a smirk, his eyes gleaming with mischief as you left him in the room to meet Billie.

“Are you okay…” Billie asked, her eyes narrowing in concern as she noticed your flustered expression despite your efforts to appear composed.

“Fine, I’m fine!” you replied, the defensiveness in your voice betraying your inner turmoil. Fortunately, she took the hint and dropped the subject, refocusing on the task.

“So, anyway, there are some media and STAY outside for the boys to do an appearance. No questions will be asked.” You nodded, absorbing her updates while grabbing your iPad from William to check the schedule.

“Wait, wait… What's this?” You pointed at a newly added event on the calendar for 10 PM. “Who approved a night out? We have appearances tomorrow!” Your tone grew sharper with frustration as you scanned the room for the boys’ manager.

“I think the manager knew you were going to be annoyed… He’s gone back to the hotel already,” William spoke up, his voice timid and hesitant. His nervousness made you feel a pang of guilt for your harsh reaction.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of this so easily…” Felix interjected, his voice playful yet insistent as he emerged from behind Theo's towering figure. He had come back inside to escort you out for the media appearances. “It’s your first day working with us. It's only fair that you party with us too.” He brought his hands together pleadingly, his eyes sparkling with playfulness.

“I don’t know…” you mumbled, your gaze drifting to Chris, who lingered in the background, his presence comforting and distracting. “I haven’t got anything to wear, and I haven’t got time to change.” You gestured around the room, emphasising your point. “And I have so much work to do when I get back to the makeshift office,” you explained hesitantly, the weight of your responsibilities pressing down on you.

“We can organise an outfit change to meet you at the club or in the car,” Billie announced, her tone assertive yet accommodating. You took a moment to appreciate her assertiveness, finding it endearing despite the circumstances. There was a subtle, yet unmistakable, sound of what seemed to be a swift kick to the leg from Billie to William as he piped up next.

“I can prepare the paperwork for you to write the report tomorrow,” he offered gently.

“See! No excuse!” Seungmin chimed in, adding to the chorus of pleas.

“Fine, Fine! Let's get these media appearances done, and then I will decide depending on how well it goes,” you relented, rolling your eyes in resignation. Despite your internal hesitations, it was clear there was no escaping their persuasive efforts.

Exiting with Theo leading the way into the media crowd, you launched into your PR spiel, delivering it with practised ease. Stepping back, you allowed the boys to take centre stage, greeting the excited crowd with smiles and waves.

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

Was it shocking to find yourself in the van on the way to the club? Not really. Was it surprising that Billie had arranged for your outfit to be waiting in the car for you to change? Again, not really. What was shocking, however, was that she had decided to organise for you to share a vehicle with Changbin to the club and expect you to change in that exact vehicle. There, indeed, wasn’t much choice. You had to change. Awkward glances were exchanged between you and Changbin.

“I-” You both started simultaneously, the tension palpable in the confined space of the van, before breaking into gentle laughter at the situation's awkwardness. “You go first,” you offered, smiling as you observed his softening features, unsure if it was a response to you or simply excitement for the night ahead.

“I was going to say…” Changbin began, clearing his throat to ease the tension in the air. “I’ll just look the other way… I promise I won't peek.” With a reassuring smile, he shifted to a seat further away, granting you extra space for privacy. “It’s not like that dress leaves much to the imagination, though,” he added with a playful quirk on his lips.

He wasn’t wrong. The silver dress's low-drop neckline was stunning but left little to hide. You couldn’t help but recall Chris’ earlier comment about the dress, suspecting his hand in its selection. With a nod in Changbin's direction, you rose from your seat and went to the back of the moving van to change.

Successfully manoeuvring the dress over your body in the swaying vehicle, you smoothed the fabric down your frame, the hem reaching no longer than mid-thigh. Your shoulders, neck, and cleavage were on full display, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of self-consciousness. Part of you prayed that the club would be dimly lit enough to conceal your exposure.

Once comfortable in the outfit, you made your way back down the van toward Changbin, offering a playful “Ta-da” to lighten the mood. But as you caught his gaze, something in his eyes seemed to shift. It might have been the flicker of the passing streetlights or his expression, but there was a hunger in how he looked at you in that dress that sent a shiver down your spine.

Before you could comprehend what was happening, the van driver's thunderous shout in a language you couldn’t understand shattered the air, followed by the abrupt slam of the brakes. The sudden motion sent you lurching forward from where you had been standing. Changbin’s arm shot out in a split second, his firm grip catching you just in time to prevent a fall. Instinctively, he pulled you closer, drawing you onto his lap, your legs straddling his as your faces came inches apart.

As you steadied yourself, your hair cascaded behind you, exposing the marks that Chris had left earlier, now on full display. Changbin’s gaze immediately fixated on the faint imprints, his eyes darkening with curiosity and something else entirely. Locked in this intimate proximity, the tension between you crackled in the air, thick and palpable.

In the stillness of the van, the world seemed to narrow down to the magnetic pull between you. Slowly, Changbin’s hand hovered over the marks on your neck, his touch feather-light against your skin. “Is that truly the best he could do?” he chuckled softly, his other hand sliding around your waist to draw you closer, the warmth of his body enveloping you.

The disbelief swirled within you as Changbin’s lips began to trail gently over the exposed skin at the neckline of your dress. His movements were tentative yet purposeful, each kiss igniting a flurry of sensations that sent a shiver down your spine. His arm remained securely wrapped around your waist, anchoring you to him as his assault on your skin grew more emotional, more hungry.

You couldn’t help but jump slightly at the sudden rumble of the van starting back up beneath your feet, the sound breaking the intimate bubble between you and Changbin. His soft and melodic laughter vibrated against your skin as he pulled back slightly, his movements now more controlled and deliberate.

Awareness dawned on him that your chest was on display, vulnerable to the scrutiny of any lurking photographers. He adjusted his approach, his touches becoming more restrained, his kisses gentler. He was determined to shield your marked skin from prying eyes, ensuring that the intimate moment remained between you.

“You look breathtaking,” Changbin whispered into your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine before he shifted his attention to the untouched side of your neck. His energy surged with a newfound intensity, his kisses more fervent as if he were coaxing a moan from your lips, which you willingly surrendered, grateful for the cover of the car’s rumbling engine.

Placing your hand under his chin to pull his lips up to meet yours, you feel the car come to a hard stop and multiple knocks assaulting the door to the van. 

“We should go…” Changbin whispers, his lips inches from yours, and you nod reluctantly as he effortlessly lifts you up and out of his lap.

NEXT CHAPTER

𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾? 𝖳𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾! 𝖬𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝖻𝗈𝗑 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌! 

𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗃𝗈𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍? 𝖣𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝗆𝖾 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝗋 𝖣𝖬!

[matchadobo]

KIDD; overnight

wc: 1656 summary: stranger to lovers college au warning/s: none, sfw, afab reader, my writing style kind of changed here, idk if i like or hate it

you had just moved in your college dorm and your mates have invited you to go on the nearby bars fellow university students also go to, a mixer of some sort. you were kind of iffy about taking up the offer because crowds really weren't your thing, but this was an opportunity to meet people which would later be good for you. so you accepted it. only to have your mates wasted in the process, no companions whatsoever you sat alone in the bar. tons of creeps tried having their way with you, but you politely declined to avoid further conflicts.

that is until, he approached you. shimmying between the men surrounding you and thanks to his size, they backed off given his bold demeanor. tousled, red hair, pearly skin, sharp, golden eyes, and tinted lips curled into a scowl. surrounded by big scary men, this fellow seemed to be set apart from that criterion despite his aura.

he'd scare off the guys with just two words, "get lost." he'd soon ask if you were okay and tells you off to not be alone here at night. you reasoned out with your current situation and he snickered, "some friends you have." he'd then order a shot of scotch for you and him and ask, "do you wanna get outta here?" he'd stare directly into your eyes, genuinely waiting for you to answer despite taking a long time. "don't overthink it. but let me tell you something, you won't regret it if you humor me."

you were hesitant to comply but, god, was he so attractive. he didn't seem to have bad intentions either, after all he just saved you from a world of hurt. typically, going out with strangers is a big no-no, but there was something about him that draw you to him and you're eager to find out, to find him out. so you decided to fuck it, what's the worst that could happen?

so you'd go with him as he led you away from the bar. you walked alongside him on the busy nights of your town. your hands clasped behind your back and his were buried in either of his pockets as you two strolled to a more quiet road. you'd ask him his name and you tell yours, ask what his major is and exchange jokes here and there.

he goes by eustass kidd, he majors in metallurgical engineering and is a year older than you. he likes hanging out by the skateparks, karaoke and studio booths, arcades and bowling alleys, and that bar earlier where he and his mates do some gigs every now and then. he also lives a block away from your dorm house.

so you ask him where you two are going, he'll brush you off and tell you to be patient, snickering when he sees your puzzled expression. until you two reach a what seemed to be an abandoned carnival. it was dark and some crows were hanging around the railings. he'd look over his shoulder and tell you, "i always come here but got no one to take." you answered, "so i'm your first one here, huh?" he'd look down and chuckle, "and if i said yes?" you responded before walking away, "i'm special then."

you walked across the dimly lit place, rides with colorful designs are now muted from dirt and its age. to your surprise, the place suddenly illuminated from the variety of lights that chorused with the rides running. you looked behind you and saw kidd smiling with his arms crossed after he emerged from what seemed to be a staff booth. he sauntered towards you, "well? what're you waiting for?" the lights radiated the features of both of your faces. you responded with a smile and grabbed his wrist as you two headed straight for the drop tower, "you."

the both of you spent the night scaring yourselves from the horror houses and going ride after ride until you two got sick to your stomachs. you asked him when you two rode by the ferris wheel that moved a little too dangerous, "what made you think you should take me here?" he shrugged, before looking back at you. "hell if i know, guess you're a special case." a swarm of butterflies brushed by your stomach, rendering you a smiling idiot.

you didn't seem to notice the how fast the time flew by. you two decided to eat at the nearby diner that's open for twenty-four hours, his treat he says. you gazed at the clock and almost spat all the food you've eaten. you almost lost all air if it weren't for his firm but gentle pats on your back, he gave you water after stifling his laughter. "the hell happened to you?"

you hit him after catching your breath. "you jackass, i have first period in an hour!" you packed your stuff and hurried on your way back after thanking him for breakfast and bidding goodbye. he also waved at you and ate your leftovers.

your first period went by like a fever dream, running on no sleep and a full stomach. the high of your borderline date with that charming redhead was the only thing keeping you awake. the sheen of his amber orbs when he intently looks at you every time you talk, the way his canines tug by his lips with each smile and laugh, his playful insults that get sharper with each of your comeback, the way your knees touch when you two sit together and it sends electricity coursing through your veins, and how his wintry metallic scent never left your clothes and sinuses. the day went on and you didn't have the chance to see him again.

the next day, you found him waiting by the door of your last class when you left the room. he waved at you from afar, your friends asked you who that UNIT of a man was that seemed to be waiting for you. clad in a black, silk muscle tee that accentuated the tone of his body and jeans also in the same color, a simple outfit that seemed too deadly for you.

so you made your way towards him and asked, "what are you doing here? how the the hell did you find out my class?" he replied with a grin, "you told me the other day you wanted to hang out today, right? got your head in a flurry, coineanach (bunny)?" he ruffled your hair afterward, continuing. "you seem to badly need a break, aye? come, i'll give you a real stress reliever." you let him put an arm around you because you seem to fall on your knees from the weariness or for that fluttery feeling that suddenly washed over you. you gazed up at him, "this better pull me out of drowsiness, eustass." he chuckled lightly, "oh this'll wake you up, sleepyhead."

he took you to the same bar you two met, meeting up with who seemed to be his friends and waving at them from afar. then it all occurred to you, you looked at him with utmost anticipation. "you're gonna play?!" he smiled as he nodded at you, introducing you to his bandmates. he soon got on stage with them, giving you a wink before starting their performance. it made you question whatever the hell you two got going on; how he touches you, how he talks to you, how he looks at you, why he took you here, and how will this progress. it was a full-fledged war in your head. how attractive he looks while performing certainly did not help in sorting out your thoughts and calming down your heart.

the band dominated the bar, the thumping of drums and cheers of the crowd had taken the pandemonium up a notch. you soon got tipsy with the drinks to try and relieve yourself from the chaos that is your heart and mind. you didn't notice that the performance was already over and kidd was tapping your shoulder. "did that woke you up?" you noticed that he was a little too close to you so you can hear and see him because of the packed bar, you flushed red at the proximity that the mild scent of rum from his mouth wafted in your nose, so you excused yourself. he was calling after you but you blurred him out because you terribly need fresh fucking air.

you catch your breath, chest heaving as you held on your knees for support. you hear the door behind you open and shut again. "hey name, what was that? are you okay?" he placed a hand on your shoulder, only for you to flinch. "alright, damn. did you hate our performance that much? the fuck's going on?"

you started, "why did you take me here?" he took a few minutes before answering, "cuz i wanted you to see me play, if it ain't your taste that's fine-" you cut him off, "that is not what i mean, okay?! y-you were amazing back there."

with your words he suddenly grew smitten, like he read you so successfully and figured out why you're acting like a wreck. "yeah? you think so?" your eyes were frantic and your chest was in rampage, you couldn't look him in the eye and you kept chewing on your bottom lip. he stood dangerously close to you, his fingers raised your chin so he could have a good look at your flustered face. "you know why i was so amazing back there? it's 'cause you were watching, wanted to show off to this pretty girl i have my eye on." he tucked a hair by your ear, fingers ghosting by your cheek before it landed on your jaw. "seems i did well to do so, hm?"

you finally mustered out words, "so you feel the same way? you've been driving me nuts since i got here." he laughed, hugging you by your neck. "why do you think i'd take you to that carnival, huh?"

there was silence as you two basked in each other's embrace. until kidd blurted out, "your heart is beating like fucking crazy, damn i did that?!" you hit his arm and hid your heating face in his chest as he continued to tease and make fun of you.

this is kind of all over the place??? lmao

[local-philocalist]

Entry to your 20s, advice to the 20-year-old women

Four pieces of advice for the twenty-year-old women from a twenty-something year old woman.

1. Move Your Body

I cannot stress this enough, if you can, please move your body! Move your joints and build your muscles. The doctors, scientists and our parents were unfortunately right, the older one becomes, the weaker they get. If you want to still be able to run around in your fifties, sixties, etc. You need to start the habit now. Get a routine, start working out, try a sport, attempt a dance class, and get active in general.

I’ve recently gotten a gym membership and have begun pilates once or twice a week. Although at first, my muscles were burning, my body soon got used to it and I found my stamina and flexibility improving.

However, you don't need to spend money on a gym membership or Pilates to get fit. You can take a run around your local park, start a sports team with your friends, or try a YouTube workout from the comfort of your home. There are so many different ways to stay fit without emptying your pockets.

2. Eat Your Vegetables

I understand that some people are genuinely picky eaters and their parents never took the initiative to introduce different textures and flavours healthily. Thus this has followed into adulthood and are now unable to eat anything outside the same four meals.

I also understand I cannot say too much as someone who can eat almost anything but as a reformed vegetable hater I do have a little bit to offer. To live a long, healthy life vegetables are a necessity. So if you find yourself unable to eat certain vegetables, I would suggest cooking the vegetables differently, or incorporating ingredients you enjoy in your meals, think outside the box!

There are many articles about breaking picky eating, as adults we should try to expand our tastebuds, there's so much food to enjoy in this life. Nobody likes to be the person ordering chicken fingers at a Michelin restaurant.

3. Feed Your Brain

[edited: the previous paragraph has been published on my personal substack as a full piece; I've rewritten and changed this section for publication and privacy purposes].

I urge young women to nurture their brains; you are so blessed to be in a society and world where education is so accessible for women. If you live in the West, take advantage and don't feed into the propaganda of "I'm just a girl". Women are being minimised, and I don't want young ladies falling down the rabbit hole of this recent no-purpose lifestyle that's advertised.

Looks are essential, and don't get me wrong, I know attraction still plays a huge part in society, but it isn't the only important thing. It's not cute to be ignorant, lack life skills and use social media concepts like "I'm just a girl" as excuses. Stupidity isn't hot, so while it's okay to indulge in media consumption, find yourself hobbies outside of that and put in the effort to grow intellectually and further yourself.

4. High Self-esteem Will Protect You

Most of my girlfriends are in the dating field, and from the stories they tell me its clear these men are crazy. Good discernment is needed and for you to trust your discernment you need a healthy level of self-worth.

I’m not just talking about romantic interest, in general, high self-esteem will take you far in life. From romantic partners to career paths, when you know your value and do not settle, that translates to every crevice of your life. People treat you with more respect, you're likely to find yourself in fewer abusive scenarios and get better opportunities in your place of work.

Nothing good comes from beating yourself down and letting others treat you horribly. Overall your twenties can be fun but also filled with anxiety so take it step-by-step, don't beat yourself up and remember comparison is the thief.