#so going to reblog a few posts and reply to those later

[ramp-it-up]

Charm

Summary: Congressman James Buchanan Barnes has a secret. And it's so sweet.

Word count: 3.1 K

Pairing: Congressman Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: Yeah, I'm probably gonna be back on my Bucky bullshit for a minute. Those Norman Jean Roy photos, the movie coming out. Just block me now. Or, read, respond, and reblog! Love you heauxes!

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. All mistakes my own. Smut! Teacher Reader, Congressman Bucky, Soft, Beefy Bucky, feral Bucky, sex almost on sight, talk of testing and precautions, but raw p in v, oral (m/f receiving) sloppy toppy, woman on top, praise kink, Dom-ish AND sort of Subby Bucky, Sargeant kink, nicknames Charm and Doll, also Sweetheart.

I do not have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

------

Congressman James Buchanan Barnes raked his hand through his hair for the third time. It was overlong, curling at the nape of his neck, caught somewhere between rebellion and control.

Just like his life.

His tie was long gone, jacket tossed over a chair, but the tension still clung to him like sweat. His fingers twitched with the restraint of a man used to control, but tonight that control was slipping.

Because of you.

He was going to meet you. Spend time with you.

You, his softest vulnerability. His secret sanctuary. You had no idea what you did to him. Or maybe you did. And that was the problem.

Underneath the pressed shirt and tailored slacks, beneath the titles and speeches and the weight of his legacy, James Buchanan Barnes was unraveling. You touched something in him, something sweet and unguarded.

You looked at him like he wasn’t just a polished man with power, but someone worth seeing. You saw past all of it, the headlines, the pressure, the myth of the man, to the boy who once just wanted to be good.

Of course you did. As a teacher, you saw the good in all of your students. And from the moment he’d met you, bright-eyed and brilliant, part of the National Teaching Conference delegation touring the Capitol, he’d been a goner.

So he pursued you. But you’d made him wait. And you’d made him want. And Bucky had never wanted anything the way he wanted you.

When he thought of you, he forgot all about The Honorable James Buchanan Barnes. 

He just wanted to be your Bucky.

—-

Six Weeks earlier:

You’d expected a polite handshake and a few photo ops when you went on the tour, but Congressman Barnes from your borough of Brooklyn was charming, attentive, and deeply present in a way that threw you off balance. His gaze lingered just a second too long when he looked at you, and your heartbeat stuttered every time his hand brushed yours.

You weren’t sure what it meant, you just knew it meant something.

The first night ended with a drink in the hotel bar, where he asked thoughtful questions about education and leaned in like your answers were gravity. When he walked you to your room, he didn’t ask to come in, just touched your wrist and said, “I’ll see you again, Charm.”

“Charm?” you questioned him as he walked away.

Bucky turned around and started to walk backwards as he replied.

“Yeah. It’s my name for you in my head,” and he grinned before he got in the elevator, looking so much younger than 110 years old.

Weeks later, you were still texting late into the night. Breathless calls. Heated messages. A video chat that ended with both of you flushed and desperate.

It was intoxicating stuff.

----

Now:

You were finally back in D.C. for the National Teaching Conference. Because you were on the planning committee, you’d been running around in a blazer and sneakers all week, putting out fires, herding speakers, and keeping the entire operation from collapsing.

But Friday night was yours.

The conference ended, the final panel was a wrap, and you still had the swanky suite for two more nights. It had a skyline view, a rain-slicked windowpane, and, within the hour, one James Buchanan Barnes.

You’d barely stepped out of the shower, steam curling in the air, when you heard the knock.

He was thirty minutes early.

You froze for half a second, heart racing, then wrapped the towel tighter and padded to the door.

Bucky stood in the hallway, soaked to the bone from the spring storm, dark hair dripping, a gray coat clinging to broad shoulders. Water tracked down his jaw and disappeared beneath the collar of his shirt.

And those beautiful blue eyes were locked on you.

“Hey, Charm,” he rasped.

You swallowed hard. “Congressman.”

That smirk flickered at the corners of his mouth.

“Gonna let me in?”

You stepped aside. The door shut behind him, shutting the world out. Bucky looked at you like he hadn’t seen you in years, not weeks.

“I missed you,” you said softly, voice a breath.

He was on you in a heartbeat. One hand cupped your chin, the other, vibranium, gleaming in the soft hotel light, slid around your waist, pulling you flush to him. You melted, your fingers slipping beneath the lapels of his coat, feeling the heat of him under damp clothes.

You didn’t find the sharp muscle of the old soldier, but the solid strength of a man who lived his life with purpose. His softness did not take the edge off your desire for him.

In fact, it probably made it worse. He wasn’t a weapon. He was a man.

Your man. 

You were going to claim him tonight.

“Been sittin’ through policy meetings imagining you riding me in the chair behind my desk,” he muttered into your skin, pressing a kiss below your jaw.

You gasped, shivering despite the heat between you.

You grew a little dizzy as Bucky dropped his overnight bag to the floor so that your hands could slip under his shirt, and drag your fingers over his soft, but still-defined abs.

“Then maybe we should make that image real.”

His eyes were dark now, pupils already blown. One arm snaked up your back and tangled in the hair at your nape, pulling your head back as he kissed you hard, like he meant to claim you. His vibranium hand gripped your waist like it was built for that exact purpose.

“Tonight, I don’t want polite. Don’t want careful.”

You’d planned for this. Took your precautions. Got tested. You both knew what tonight meant.

Bucky walked you backwards toward the bed, slow and steady, never breaking eye contact. 

“I want to watch you take what you want from me.”

Your lips curved into a smile.

“I want a lot from you, Mr. Barnes,” you whispered.

“Take your shirt off,” you said softly, watching the way his jaw flexed and the way his eyes flicked to your mouth.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a crooked smile.

God. Could you be in love?

He stripped off his shirt in one fluid motion. Muscles rippled, dog tags glinting against his skin. He didn’t pose. He just stood there, waiting. Watching you. A man made of flesh and metal and decades of ghosts, and right now, he was all yours.

You moved toward him, fingertips grazing his stomach, and watched the way he twitched beneath your touch.

“You know you can be in control tonight,” you murmured, eyes locked on his as he let you turn him around so that he was at the foot of the bed. 

Bucky’s breath hitched. 

“I haven’t been in control since the day I met you, Charm.”

You pushed him gently until he sat without resistance, and you stood between his legs, slowly letting the towel drop and pool at your feet. Bucky’s hungry gaze roamed over your body, from your lips, to your neck, to your breasts, focusing on the rigid peaks there as he licked his lips, down your stomach to the apex of your thighs, and lingering there longer.

Finally, his eyes swept down your legs to your feet on the floor, between his shiny Italian loafers.

“You sure you want this?” he asked, voice hoarse as he brought his eyes back up to yours. 

“I’ve never been more sure,” you said. “But let’s not rush this, Sergeant.”

His head dropped for a moment like he needed a second just to breathe. That word, Sergeant, hit somewhere deep. Then he looked up and drew you toward him with his metal hand and kissed the inside of your thigh, destroying you.

“Tell me what you want.”

The gravel in his voice did things to you as you carded your fingernails through his thick, wet, dark hair.

You said, “Need your mouth, Bucky,” and he almost came undone right then.

“Such a Good Girl for telling me what you need, Charm.”

His lips were at the edge of your mound, the warmth of his breath fanning out over your clit. You moaned and laid your hands on his solid shoulders, and although they each felt very different under your palms, the disparate sensations only served to make you hotter. 

Bucky made eye contact with you and then took a long swipe of his tongue over your wet slit, from top to bottom. A tremble coursed through your body, and you exhaled his name. Bucky stared lovingly at your cunt, from the fat, puffy lips of your labia, to the shine of your juices at your slit.

He licked your essence from his lips and raised his eyes to yours again. He was so fucking handsome. And you were so gone for this man.

Just when you thought that, Bucky stuck his nose in your pussy and inhaled deeply, making you jump in surprise and rapture. He took a quick lick and hummed deeply, sending more vibrations through your cunt.

His metal hand lifted your leg, draped it over his shoulder. His tongue worked in steady, devastating rhythm. Lips suckling, tongue plunging, nose pressed to your clit as he made a low, satisfied sound that vibrated straight through you.

You gasped.

He groaned.

“Good girl,” he murmured, voice muffled against your heat. “So fuckin’ sweet for me.”

And then he ruined you.

He looked up to wink at you playfully before parting your outer lips with his thumbs. He dove in and you saw stars.

Bucky Barnes sucked, licked, and grazed on you, plunging deeply into you with his tongue, fingers, and his whole damn face.

You were lost in the moment, in the pleasure, and the sensations. It was so good. No one had ever made you feel this wanted or needed. You felt the telltale spark ignite your clit and started to squirm as his vibranium hand held you in place as he devoured you like a starving man.

He felt you clench around his fingers, one inside you, one teasing that tight little rim, and you shattered. Bucky held you through it, whispering your name like a religious chant.

Because he worshipped you.

You lay in his arms, spent and limp as Bucky nuzzled at your neck, his dick standing at attention, long, thick, and leaking against you. Somehow, some when, he’d gotten undressed.

And those beautiful blue eyes held you hostage again.

“What do you need now?”

You looked down and reached for him.

“Need to taste you, Sarge.”

His cock was huge, hard, and hot against your skin, begging for relief.

Bucky groaned and his eyes shined as you rose only to sink down on your knees. He sat up on the edge of the bed to witness you gazing up at him. He took himself in hand and started stroking the length of his hardness, swiping precum from the slit at the head in passing.

It was so damn sexy. You licked your lips as your eyes were glued to the beautiful, erotic sight of Bucky Barnes stroking off for you. 

He smirked as he watched you hungry for him, impatient to taste him, to take him in, to please him. Your hands cupped and kneaded the full flesh of your breasts, and Bucky licked his lips as you pulled on your nipples. 

His flesh fingers squeezed more tightly around his shaft, while his metal hand gave a quick twist to his balls as your heavily hooded eyes drifted from his cock to his face as you moved closer. 

You wrapped your lips around him and he cursed, one hand in your hair, the other still at his balls, twisting with just enough pressure.

You worshipped him the way he had you. Took him deep, sloppy and unafraid, letting your desire drip down your chin and soak your chest.

He was losing control.

Sexy rambles tumbled from his lips as you took him deep in your throat.

“Fuck. I’m home. All this time… I thought I thought I knew. Didn’t know shit.” 

You moaned as you pulled back slightly to gently lick and suck at the head of his cock, swiping your tongue over his hard length. Then you got sloppy with it, slurping at him and taking his long, thick cock as deep as you could.

Bucky let out an inhuman sound as you gently scraped your teeth along his hard flesh, and then sucked and tongued at his balls.

“Please, baby, fuck…”

He had to pull you off before he lost it. He lifted you, breath ragged, and laid you on the bed like you were breakable but you weren’t. You were so strong. And Powerful.

He draped your legs around his waist as he lined the thick bulb of his cock with your entrance. 

As he looked into your eyes, Bucky trembled as you crossed your ankles around his back. You both watched, enraptured, as he pushed inside you, and every inch felt like a lifetime. You pulled him in like a siren, hips rising to meet him, your walls fluttering around him.

You whispered his name, Bucky, and it broke him in the most beautiful way.

He fucked you long, deep, and hard. He played with your body and spanked your full flesh. You came over and over, barely descending from one climax then he was at you again, rolling your clit between his fingers, sucking your tits into his mouth. His cock was relentless, hard as steel, and dripping with your cream. 

But he hadn’t let go and given you what you truly wanted. 

“Want to ride you Bucky…”

He rolled you over so that you were on top, truly in control, despite your trembling thighs.

“Do you know what you need now, Charm?”

“Oh, I know,” you murmured, rolling your hips as he gasped. “Need to show you that this is mine now.”

You grasped him and positioned him at your entrance. Then, you took him inside you again. His grip on your hips tightened and he nodded, biting his lip as he looked down to where you were joined.

“Yours. Always was.”

You rode him slowly; you wanted him to remember this. The way your body felt wrapped around him. The way you looked on top of him. 

The air between you was thick, charged, and the room hummed with the rhythm of your bodies. Each time you sank down onto him, every inch felt like heaven.

Bucky’s breath was ragged, his chest rising and falling beneath you, but his hands didn’t let go of your hips. They were firm, guiding, like he was fighting to hold on to control.

The sight of you was almost too much to bear: you, beautiful and powerful, taking what you needed from him with a relentless grace. His lips parted, and every sound he made was a mixture of frustration and hunger.

“I don’t want you to stop,” he growled, but his voice wavered.

You could tell he was losing his composure, even though his hands kept a firm grip, holding you steady for the next perfect movement.

The tension was building again, just like before. His fingers dug into your skin, almost painfully, but you didn’t care. You were so close to unraveling him completely; it was an art, this dance you had with him, and you were the one in control now.

His gaze flicked between your face and your greedy cunt sucking him in, his chest tightening at the sight of your expression, and at how perfectly you fit together.

“Look at you,” you whispered, leaning in to nip at his earlobe, your voice sultry. 

“You look like you’re losing yourself. Can’t hold on, can you?”

Bucky’s hands tightened at your waist, his grip becoming a little rougher. You could feel his body shifting, like he was trying to fight the pull, trying to keep himself from breaking.

“You’re killing me, Doll,” he muttered, eyes closing for a split second before snapping open to look at you again.

His expression was a mess of desire, vulnerability, and something that told you he didn’t want this to end. 

“I can’t hold back much longer.”

You grinned, a glint of mischief in your eyes.

You didn’t let up, not even for a second. Instead, you leaned back, giving him a full view of your body. His jaw tightened as he watched, his fingers trembling slightly as you began to move faster, the heat building between you both, the room filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, the rhythm of your bodies synchronizing.

“You’re not the one who gets to decide when it’s over, Sargeant,” you teased, breathless but determined.

“I’m the one calling the shots here.”

And with that, you gave him everything, taking the lead in a way that pushed him past his limits, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through both of you. The intensity in his eyes grew, a mix of awe and surrender, like he couldn’t believe what was happening. 

But he also couldn’t stop himself.

You felt it all, the way his grip tightened, the way his body tensed with each thrust of yours, the way he was so close to losing himself. And as you watched him, a small, knowing smile tugged at your lips.

This wasn’t just about sex anymore. This was a power exchange, a moment that was yours, and his, too. You could feel your connection grow stronger.

“Tell me, Bucky,” you whispered, voice a little raspier now, “are you going to beg for it, or are you going to let me take what’s mine?”

He groaned, the sound like a mix of frustration and raw need. You topping him was making the base of his spine hum with pleasure.

“Please, Charm.” he murmured, breath shaking. “Fuck, don’t stop.”

And that was all you needed. You took control fully, fucking him with a rhythm that made his whole body shudder. You could feel the end coming closer, and you didn’t slow down. Not now. Not when you were this close.

“Fuck,” he whispered again, voice broken as you watched him come apart. 

You clenched around him and commanded, “Cum.”

And he did, with a broken groan of your name and a full-body shudder, his face a portrait of surrender as he spilled into you, pulsing and shaking beneath you.

When he finally came to a stop, his chest heaving, his hands still on your hips, holding you steady, you leaned in and kissed him softly, a contrast to the raw energy between you moments before.

“You were perfect,” you whispered against his lips.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he breathed in deeply, the intensity still lingering. 

“God… you’re gonna kill me, you know that?”

You smiled, resting your head on his chest as he held you.

“You’re welcome.”

And you felt him become completely, unconditionally yours.

Your Bucky.

Read Claim

[spaceyaemonds]

pairing: dr. jack abbot x reader

sum.: jack finally decides to give you your ring.

warnings: none??? a child/parenthood? maybe implied angst?? reader did get into a car accident while pregnant and that is also mentioned here! minors DNI

notes: this is how jack (doesn’t) propose! just a short lil something. i do still intend to have part 7 posted tomorrow!! unedited. and as always, any feedback is extremely appreciated, it helps keep me motivated. especially reblogs/comments/asks!

wc: 649

set in this universe

Jack creeps in as quietly as he can, hoping that Bug isn’t up yet so he can at least shower before making her breakfast.

The apartment is quiet, and he’s sure to go press a kiss to your head as he makes his way to the ensuite attached to your bedroom, showering quickly so he can go make breakfast for the three of you.

He makes his way back to the bedroom, hair still damp as he sits at the edge of the bed to put his prosthetic back on.

You, as always, catch his eye.

He hopes Bug’s been good. She’s going through a phase where she doesn’t sleep all night and constantly wakes up, probably because she’s teething.

He would prefer to be there on those nights, but knows you unfortunately get the brunt of that more often than he would care to admit.

Jack watches you a few moments longer, eyes tracing the features of your face, a face he could describe blind.

He’s loved you since the first time he slept in your bed, well watched you sleep in your bed. He bought a ring two days later on the way to work, and it’s sat in the bottom of his backpack ever since.

A dainty band with a big diamond that he just hasn’t worked up the courage to give you. Not that he thinks you’d say no, but after having it so long, he can’t think of a good way to ask.

Jack didn’t want to trap you, or make you feel trapped, in this situation if you didn’t want to be, so despite just knowing deep in his chest, he didn’t ask when he bought the ring.

Didn’t ask when you cried to him and told him your fears of motherhood. Didn’t ask when you’d been rolled into the ED after getting rear ended at a stoplight by some jackass who wasn’t paying attention, when he felt like he was gonna die watching Shen stitched the gash on your temple while you hyperventilated as Ellis’ shaky hand tried to find the baby’s heartbeat. Didn’t ask when tears streamed down his cheeks and he smiled the biggest smile he had in years when he held your baby for the first time.

Despite the dozens of opportunities to ask, he never could bring himself to do it.

But watching you now, something stirs deeper than it usually does.

So, in true Jack Abbot fashion, he goes and quietly digs the ring out of his bag.

He slips it on your left ring finger when he comes back in the room, kissing the side of your mouth twice before turning the baby monitor on your nightstand off and going to wake up his baby.

She looks just like you, everyone agrees. From her nose to her toes, she’s all you.

Especially when she pouts up at him with little tears lining her eyes.

“Oh, you poor, pitiful baby,” He coos at her as he picks her up and kisses her head repeatedly, “Daddy’s poor baby. You had a long night huh?”

He gets a squawk in reply.

Thirty minutes later, his girl is changed and eating some mashed bananas, giggling at every face Jack makes at her.

He feels you before he sees you as you wrap yourself around him and bury his face in his neck. He feels a wetness and the shaky breath you exhale as you squeeze him tight against you.

“I love you.”

One hand reaches up to hold your arm, “I love you more,”

Jack watches as her eyes light up when you look at her, hands clapping together as she lets out another giggle before fisting at her mashed bananas.

You let out another wet laugh as you angle your head towards your fiancé to kiss him as deeply as you can while Bug is distracted by her bananas.

[harryssyndrome]

Best Brother Ever | h.s

Pairing: Husband!Dad!Harry x Wife!Mom!Reader

summary: a sweet Sunday afternoon with the styles family and Alex being the best big brother.

Word count: 2.6k || MASTERLIST 𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧

Posted On: November 7th, 2024

I got really inspired by a cute reel I saw on Facebook and since then this sweet fluff has been sitting in my drafts for months and I’m really happy with how it turned out! I hope you enjoy it as much as I do ♡ let me know your thoughts in comments! Like & reblog are truly appreciated 🥰 REQUEST ARE OPEN.

It was a peaceful Sunday morning in the Styles household, and the cozy, familiar sounds of home filled the air. In the kitchen, YN moved around with practiced ease, stirring a pot, chopping vegetables, and tasting spices with a focused concentration. She’d been at it for a while now, determined to make Harry’s mom, Anne, feel right at home with her favorite dish. In the background, 18 by One Direction played softly, and YN found herself humming along, her voice a gentle echo to the lyrics.

Though the band had gone on indefinite hiatus years ago, and each of the boys had branched off into their own solo careers, YN hadn’t stopped listening. She was a Directioner through and through, and she knew in her heart she’d never let go of those songs—they were part of her story, her history with Harry, and her dreams.

Meanwhile, in the living room, their six-year-old son, Alex, was lying on the mat with Berry, their playful family dog, gently scratching behind Berry’s ears. Berry’s tail thumped in delight, and Alex giggled as the dog rolled over, waiting for belly rubs. The two were inseparable, each one the other’s partner in mischief.

After a few minutes, Alex felt a tickle of thirst, and with his usual burst of energy, Alex stopped scratching and said, “Oh Berry didn’t you get tired of all the scratching? I know, I know you were enjoying it but it’s time for a break, I’m thirsty. You don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone! Granny likes it when you’re a good boy.” He then sprang up and ran to the kitchen, tiny footsteps echoing across the hardwood floor.

“Alex, no running in the kitchen, remember?” YN gently reminded him, glancing over her shoulder with a smile.

Alex skidded to a stop, giving her an innocent look. “Sorry, Mama.” He then carefully walked to the fridge, his small hand reaching for a water bottle. After unscrewing the cap and taking a long sip, he paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.

Looking up at his mom, he noticed how she’d been working by the stove for a while. The warmth from the flames made the kitchen a bit stuffy, and in that moment, his little mind put two and two together. Carefully holding out the bottle to her, he asked, “Mama, do you want some water too?”

YN paused, touched by the thoughtful gesture. The little boy was caring just like his father. Her heart swelled with pride and warmth at her son’s understanding, and she leaned down to pull his cheeks before pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Thank you, sweetheart. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

Alex beamed up at her, delighted by her kiss, and handed her the bottle with a shy smile. YN took a small sip, her heart feeling full in the best way possible. Moments like these, simple and unassuming, were what made her life feel so complete.

YN glanced around the kitchen, realizing she hadn’t seen Harry in a while. She turned to Alex, who was still grinning from her earlier kiss, and asked, “Where’s your daddy?”

Alex paused, looking thoughtful. “He’s giving Amelia a bath!” he replied brightly.

YN chuckled, wiping her hands on a towel. “Don’t you think he’s taking a little too long?”

Without another word, Alex took off down the hall, announcing over his shoulder, “I’m gonna check!”

YN shook her head, smiling to herself as she continued stirring the pot. But barely a minute later, she heard Alex’s laughter ring out, loud and delighted, carrying all the way back to the kitchen. Curious, she wiped her hands and followed the sound down the hallway, wondering what on earth could have him so amused.

When she reached the bathroom, she found Alex standing at the doorframe, giggling uncontrollably. YN peeked over his shoulder, and the sight before her was too good not to laugh herself.

Harry stood by the sink, almost drenched, his shirt soaked and clinging to him, while his hair, wet and messy, hung down in front of his eyes. Amelia, their 15-month-old daughter, squirmed in his arms, wrapped in a fluffy towel that he was struggling to keep around her tiny, wiggling frame. Amelia, completely entertained, let out a series of squeals and giggles, delighted by the whole chaotic scene.

Harry looked up, his eyes meeting YN’s as he tried—and failed—to blow a strand of wet hair out of his face. “She’s, uh… a slippery one,” he said with a helpless smile, shifting Amelia as she kicked her tiny feet, clearly thrilled by all the attention.

YN chuckled, stepping into the bathroom to take over. “I think you’ve gotten just as much of a bath as she has,” she teased, reaching for Amelia.

“Believe me, I know,” Harry replied, surrendering his squirming daughter into YN’s arms. As soon as she was safely in her mother’s embrace, Amelia nuzzled into YN, her little face lighting up with another round of happy giggles.

Alex, still laughing, tugged at Harry’s soaked shirt. “Daddy, you’re all wet!”

Harry ruffled Alex’s hair, a lopsided grin on his face. “Well, that’s what happens when you try to bathe a little mermaid,” he joked, winking at YN.

YN smiled, cradling Amelia close as the baby snuggled into her, finally calm. Glancing up at Harry, she added with a playful grin, “Maybe next time I’ll leave the bath duty to you again. You look like you’re having way too much fun.”

Harry raised his hands in surrender, laughing. “Only if I get a raincoat next time.”

With everyone still giggling, the air filled with warmth and laughter. For YN, it was yet another reminder of how these simple, unplanned moments held the truest joy.

After drying Amelia’s soft curls and dressing her in an adorable denim overall dress, YN gave her a little pat, sending her off with Alex, who eagerly took her tiny hand. “Come on, Amelia! Let’s play in the backyard!” he declared, guiding her to the door as she toddled along, wide-eyed and giggling.

Meanwhile, Harry changed out of his soaked clothes and slipped into a comfortable hoodie and shorts. Feeling refreshed, he wandered back to the kitchen to find YN putting the finishing touches on lunch. She was focused, stirring one last pot, her face glowing with that contented look he loved.

“Smells amazing,” he murmured, slipping his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. She relaxed into him, smiling as she gave the pot one final stir.

“Thank you,” she replied, turning her head slightly to meet his gaze. “I wanted everything to be perfect for your mom.”

Harry pressed a light kiss to her cheek. “It already is perfect. Besides, Mom’s really coming to see you and the kids. I’m just… here for decoration,” he joked, earning a laugh from YN.

She turned to face him, resting her hands on his chest. “Pretty good decoration, I’d say,” she teased back, her eyes sparkling. “Can’t say I mind having you around.”

He grinned, taking her hand in his. “And I can’t say I mind this whole thing… you, me, the kids, Sunday lunches. I think we’re doing alright, don’t you?”

YN’s smile softened, her heart warmed by his words. “I’d say we’re doing better than alright.”

When lunch was ready, they carried everything to the living room and settled comfortably on the sofa, filling their plates and savoring each other’s company in the cozy quiet. Berry, their loyal dog, lay stretched out on the floor nearby, watching them with sleepy eyes, as though content to be part of their little family moment. But the peace didn’t last long; as soon as Berry heard the sound of laughter from the backyard, he was on his feet and bounding toward the door, ready to join Alex and Amelia in whatever adventure they were up to.

Harry and YN shared a glance, amused, and Harry sighed with a laugh. “Should we go see what they’re getting into out there?”

YN nodded, grinning. “Definitely.”

Hand in hand, they headed toward the backyard porch deck, hearts full and laughter on their lips, ready to join in on the joy of the afternoon.

Harry and YN strolled out into the backyard, enjoying the sight of Alex and Berry playing an enthusiastic game of chase. Alex was giggling as he kicked the ball across the grass, Berry hot on his heels, barking and wagging his tail, clearly in his element.

But their attention quickly turned to little Amelia, who was standing by the swing set, her tiny fingers gripping the seat as she attempted to climb up. She’d tugged it down a few times, her determination evident in her scrunched-up face, but every time she tried to lift her legs, they just didn’t reach. She let out a tiny, frustrated squeal, her cheeks pink with effort.

Alex spotted her from across the yard and immediately abandoned his ball game, trotting over with Berry following close behind. “I’m coming, Amy! I’ll help you,” he declared, a serious expression crossing his little face. The way he spoke, it was as if he were preparing to climb a mountain, not help his baby sister onto a swing.

He placed a comforting hand on Amelia’s shoulder, patting her gently. “Don’t worry, Amy. I’ll get you up there,” he reassured her. Berry sat down nearby, tilting his head as if watching the scene unfold with keen interest.

Alex held the swing steady, lowering it slightly to make it easier for her to grab. Amelia gave it her best shot, tugging herself forward and then clinging to her brother’s back, her small legs kicking as she tried to hoist herself up. But she kept slipping back down with a tiny thud, her face scrunched in concentration.

Seeing her struggle, Alex crouched down thoughtfully, tapping his chin with one finger like he’d seen his dad do when he was deep in thought. “Okay, hm… maybe try to use my back like a lil’ stool?” he offered, glancing up at her with a hopeful smile. “I’ll be like a step!”

Amelia’s eyes lit up, and she gave him an excited nod, as if this was the most brilliant plan she’d ever heard. Alex crouched down in front of the swing, bracing himself. “Alright, Amy, climb on!” he called out, his voice full of determination.

With a delighted giggle, Amelia leaned onto her brother’s back and clutched his T-shirt with her chubby little hands. She climbed as best as she could, trying to pull herself up—but her grip on his shirt only tightened as she clambered, her arms slipping around his neck. Alex winced, his voice coming out in a slightly strained laugh. “Amy… you’re kinda… choking me,” he gasped, though he kept steady, determined to help her however he could.

Harry and YN watched from nearby, biting back their laughter as Alex tried to be the perfect big brother, his determination and care making them both melt a little inside. Berry, still sitting close by, tilted his head again, ears perked as he followed every bit of the action.

Eventually, Alex, catching his breath, stood up, looking down at his sister with a thoughtful frown. “Alright, Amy, let’s try it another way,” he said, more determined than ever to help her reach her goal.

He pointed at the swing seat with a very serious expression, bending down to her level. “Just try to sit on it. Right here,” he said, gesturing to the exact spot where she should aim. “Watch, I’ll show you.”

With exaggerated care, he climbed onto the swing himself, wiggling around on the seat to demonstrate how to sit properly. Then he hopped off and held the swing firmly in place again, giving her an encouraging nod. “Okay, now you try.”

Amelia looked at him, wide-eyed with admiration for her big brother, and then turned back to the swing. She grasped it carefully with both hands, her face full of concentration, and this time, after a few wobbly attempts, she managed to pull herself up, finally plopping down on the seat with a triumphant squeal.

Alex’s face broke into a huge grin. “You did it, Amy!” he cheered, clapping his hands. “You’re a big girl now!”

Amelia giggled, her cheeks flushed with excitement, and Alex gave the swing a gentle push, sending her gliding back and forth, her delighted squeals filling the backyard. Each time she swung forward, she let out a little giggle, her laughter filling the air.

Harry and YN stood side by side, their arms wrapped around each other as they watched Alex carefully push Amelia on the swing. Her joyful squeals mixed with the gentle creak of the swing, and Alex’s steady encouragement filled the air. Berry trotted nearby, tail wagging, occasionally glancing up as if to make sure everything was under control.

Harry tightened his arm around YN’s shoulders, pulling her close as he shook his head in admiration. “He’s… he’s really the best big brother, isn’t he?” he said, his voice soft with awe. “Look at him—so gentle with her, so patient. I can’t believe he’s only six.”

YN beamed, her eyes fixed on their son as she watched him push Amelia with such care, his face serious with concentration, as if he were on an important mission. “I know,” she replied, her voice warm with pride. “He’s amazing with her, isn’t he? Always looking out for her, always so sweet. I feel like we’re really… doing something right.”

Harry looked down at her, a playful glint in his eyes. “Well, I think you’re doing most of it right,” he teased, bumping her shoulder with his. “I’m just here to make sure they know how to make a mess and have fun.”

YN laughed, nudging him back. “Oh, please, Harry—you’re their hero. Every time you walk in, they light up. You’re like their personal superhero.”

Harry chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know about ‘superhero,’ but… seeing them like this, watching them take care of each other? That’s everything.” He paused, his gaze softening as he looked back at Alex and Amelia. “They’re so lucky to have each other. And I think… we’re pretty lucky to have them, too.”

YN nodded, her heart swelling as she took in the scene—their two little ones, working together, supporting each other in their own innocent, unfiltered way. “It’s moments like these that make it all worth it, don’t they?” she murmured, leaning her head against his shoulder. “All the late nights, all the messy meals and chaotic mornings… all of it. Seeing them happy, and kind, and just… them.”

Harry gave her a soft smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We’ve got a good thing going, don’t we?” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I couldn’t imagine a better team than this. You and me… and these two.” He gestured toward Alex and Amelia, his eyes crinkling with pride. “We’re doing something right, YNN. I know we are.”

Just then, Alex looked over his shoulder and spotted his parents watching. His face lit up with pride, and he called out, “Look, Mum! Dad! Amy’s swinging! I got her up here all by myself!”

YN and Harry exchanged a warm glance before waving back, beaming with pride. “You’re the best big brother, Alex!” YN called out, giving him a big thumbs-up. “Amy’s so lucky to have you.”

Alex’s cheeks flushed with pride, and he turned back to Amelia, giving her swing another gentle push. “Did you hear that, Amy? Mum and Dad said I’m the best big brother ever!” he whispered to her, smiling from ear to ear.

Watching him, Harry gave YN’s hand a gentle squeeze. “We’re raising some pretty great kids, aren’t we?” he murmured, his eyes sparkling with pride. “If nothing else, I’d say we’re getting that part just right.”

YN looked up at him, her eyes shining. “Couldn’t agree more.”

[nightplvmes]

birthday girl

you'd always known you had a different side of Sylus, a side no one else had because you couldn't remember a time he hadn't made you feel special. he had made your birthday special after so many years. ☆ sylus x fem!reader — fluff ! MDNI! ☆ birthday special ☆ an: hi! so it's my birthday!! and i wanted to post a special. it's not a long one shot and it's not a big deal, i thought about making it a bit more personal, mentioning that Sylus' birthday was also close but i felt like that would be tooooo self insert. anyway, save this and you can read it when your birthday is close 🫶🏻 i was planning to do something with the rest of the LIs so you all can read them on your bday too but i didn't have time, especially because of Sylus' birthday :( anyway, if anyone is interested in a special like this from another LI, you can request it <3 – likes and reblogs are appreciated!! :) | to see other versions of this special with other LI, see the tag here ★ masterlist here

your birthday wasn't something you liked. you'd done your best to hide it from Sylus because didn't want to celebrate it, especially this year. you knew your efforts to hide it hadn't worked when you got home that night. you opened the door, and the lack of light made your brows furrow, but the small flicker of candles caught your attention.

Sylus was standing next to a table, his hands behind his back, and beside him was a beautifully set table. it was a dinner party, and you probably would have thought it was nothing more than a date night, if there wasn't a cake in the middle of the table. "what... what's this?" you asked, a lump beginning to form in your throat, even though you knew the answer perfectly.

"you thought you could hide your birthday, sweetie?" Your cheeks turned red. you'd suspected it; you knew he was going to find out somehow, but something inside you hoped he wouldn't.

"I... it's not important. I don't like my birthday." you shook your head. you expected something from him at home if he found out, and maybe something like a forced outing the next day as a celebration. however, you didn't expect that. you had called him an hour ago, and he had said he'd be home maybe two hours later because he still had a few things to do.

"it's important." Sylus approached you, his arms around, pulling you close to his body. "I cooked for you and this is your birthday dinner." a small smile spread across your face, and you felt... a kind of tranquility. it wasn't a lie that you had never liked your birthday, but there was something intimate about just the two of you, about this being your birthday celebration.

"when did you do this? I thought you were working." you placed a kiss on his cheek as he moved away from you enough to walk to the table where he had prepared dinner.

"when I said I had things to do, I meant dinner." a laugh escaped your lips. you didn't even know how he'd found out about your birthday; you'd kept it a secret until... a memory came back to you. yes, you could remember Luke and Kieran standing around you asking questions.

"so... you'd say your stay at Onychinus was good?" you looked at Luke with a frown and then at Kieran, who was sitting on your other side.

"I'm not even staying here. it's not a hotel."

"you're the boss' girlfriend. you sleep here all the time," Kieran said, making your eyes widen in a mixture of embarrassment and surprise. he wasn't actually lying, but it still wasn't a hotel you had come to talk about your stay there. your didn't work for Sylus either.

"yeah, my stay at Onychinus is good," you replied, giving up. the twins were too persistent, and you knew you wouldn't be able to win against them. at some point, you stopped listening to them completely; even Luke's voice sounded so distant that you only just started answering without thinking.

"how old are you?" it had been one of the casual questions Kieran had asked, even though they knew your age perfectly well.

"when is your birthday?"

"those two..." you muttered to yourself as you narrowed your eyes, remembering all of Luke and Kieran's questions. they had inundated you with questions to the point of exhaustion, so you'd answered everything without even thinking about it. Sylus chuckled as he sat down across from you, he'd realized you'd already figured it out, and that there was no evaluation for Onychinus residents—it was just him trying to find out your birthday. well, he'd done a pretty good job, you had to admit. "I can't believe you sent your two shadows to get information out of me," you muttered, annoyed.

Sylus seemed to be searching for something in his pocket, and it took him a couple of seconds to answer. "they were gathering information for an Onychinus project." you rolled your eyes, knowing it was a big lie and you were about to say something, but something stopped you suddenly.

Sylus placed a small box on the center of the table. for a second, you thought it was an engagement ring, but then you realized it was a necklace as soon as he opened it. but it wasn't just any necklace, it was obviously expensive; it was shaped like a kitten and surrounded by red diamonds. "what's this?" you asked, still open-mouthed in surprise, despite knowing the answer perfectly.

"happy birthday, kitten." that was enough to know it was his birthday present. Not only had he taken the time to research your birthday and prepare an entire dinner, he'd bought something else for you. something that was actually meaningful.

maybe you were too excited or too stunned that words came out of your mouth, but you didn't even know what you had said. when you came back from your little bubble, Sylus was behind you, helping you put the necklace on. "you didn't have to, really." you shook your head as he placed a kiss on your forehead before returning to his seat across from you.

"how could I act like your birthday didn't matter?" you narrowed your eyes at his words, knowing they were something you'd said last year after throwing him a surprise party. he'd used your own words against you.

you looked down at the necklace now on your neck and circled the tiny kitten with your fingers, gazing at it for so many seconds. you'd always known you had a different side of Sylus, a side no one else had because you couldn't remember a time he hadn't made you feel special. he had made your birthday special after so many years.

[soaps-mohawk]

So...

I've been doing some thinking about a couple of things.

This blog has grown considerably, even from its start and I appreciate each and every one of you so much. Your support never ceases to amaze me and I owe all of you a lot for giving me something to focus on this year instead of spiraling into insanity.

But

Things have gotten a tad bit overwhelming recently between trying to run the blog and trying to write. I find myself either having to ignore the blog to get writing done, or sacrifice writing time and energy to spend time on the blog and keep up with all the replies/reblogs/asks etc. Definitely not complaining, you all never cease to amaze me.

But, I am just one person and my brain only has so much power right now. So, I'm planning to take some (more) time off each week right now while I focus on writing and planning since we're getting into some serious plot stuff soon. So I'm planning to be on the blog three days a week for a while: Saturday, Sunday, and Thursday. That gives me some time to get some writing done as well as some time to rest my brain.

Saturday and Sunday of course to post the chapter and respond to replies and reblogs so I don't get super behind. Monday I'll have some asks queued up as well as maybe a few reblogs. I'll still use the queue Tuesday and Wednesday for reblogs/asks with spoilers as usual. Thursday I'll be on the blog answering asks from Monday - Wednesday as well as things I get that day. I'll queue up a few things for Friday since that day gives me a little break between to prepare for the weekend and posting the chapter.

I'll probably add more days as time goes on. You can still send in asks on the days I'm gone, but just know I won't see them or respond to them until later in the week. I already get behind by a couple days on asks anyway so that's not much of a change.

Don't feel bad for sending them either, I love getting all these asks, I just tend to get behind on days I spend more time writing.

The second order of business

has to do with my taglist. Most of you probably haven't noticed (which I don't blame you lol) but my taglist has gotten very big. Very, very big. It's just over 230 people right now, and I'm sure there will be others asking to join. It's quite time consuming to do all of these tags for every chapter (especially since we can't tag in blocks anymore) so I've been doing some thinking into how I can make it easier for me, and for you.

I know there's at least one blog I've heard of, though I'm sure there's more, that have made side blogs that they have people follow and turn on notifications for and just make a post on that blog when they post a chapter or fic, etc. I've been considering doing that since the taglist is a lot of work and time.

I've also seen blogs that have side blogs that just post chapters/fics and nothing else. I know quite a few of you only follow for the fic, so if anyone is interested, I could put together a side blog like that as well that you can follow and get notifications from instead of having to follow this blog and having to go through the probably 100 posts that I make a day 😂 (at least it feels that way for me)

Having a separate blog for the taglist too would allow me to schedule posts so I can have them come out a bit earlier than I get up for those of you across the world who stay up to read and have to wait for me to post in the morning when I get up (or later like today because I slept in). Of course Ao3 will get posted later because I can't schedule posts there, but at least for Tumblr I can have things post earlier.

So let me know what you think about the taglist side blog and the possible just chapters/fics side blog. Feel free to send in asks (anonymously or not) with your opinion. I might not answer them all (not tonight because my brain is fried and honestly i'm not sure if this is even comprehensible English) but I will at least use them to make the decision (or make a post with all of them and answer it as just one).

[zepskies]

What Does "Supporting Writers" Mean? ✍️

Apparently it's Fanfic Writer Appreciation Day! To all my fellow writers, I truly appreciate you for bringing me joy, making me smile on rough days, and giving me my weekly/daily dose of escapism and warm fuzzies. (Shoutouts to you personally below.) 💓💓

But what does it mean "practically" to appreciate your favorite writers, especially on Tumblr?

For example, I know some fanfic authors are starting to block "serial likers": people who'll go through someone's entire masterlist and hit the "like" button on 20-something stories without commenting or basic reblogging.

While I think blocking them is extreme, I understand the authors' frustrations. I've actually been asked if I'll ever leave Tumblr, since many of them have dropped off over the past few months, or even the past few years.

I'm still here for two very important reasons:

I love to write about my favorite characters. I write primarily because I love it, not just for the kudos.

I'm friggin' blessed to have a lot of friends and lovely readers on here and Ao3 who support me immensely on my writing and on this blog in general. I love and appreciate each and every one of you! Which is why I do my best to reply to your comments and reblogs. 💖💖

Of course, there are many reasons why a writer might take a break or stop writing entirely, but one of those reasons is also why the #supportwriters tag exists...

And why you'll see us include banners like this on our posts:

(Credits: cafekitsune, me, inklore)

That being said, here's my own rule of thumb on how I try to support my fellow writers when I read something I enjoy:

If I "liked" something, it means I had the time to read a story all the way through and I enjoyed it! (Or I'm bookmarking it for later in the day lol)

If I have the time to read it, I have the time to leave a comment on what I liked the most about it.

If I have the time to write out a comment (anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes), I typically put that comment in a reblog -- maybe even add a gif or two for ✨razzle dazzle.✨ That way I can share it with the rest of my followers, so they can see it and hopefully enjoy it too...

Why? Because Tumblr isn't TikTok or IG. Reblogging is the best way to help a post gain traction on Tumblr. The algorithm doesn't care much about likes.

But on a more human level, supporting writers is just the basic thing of -- if you enjoyed something you read (that a writer shared for free), just let them know what you liked about it.

Remember that there's a person behind the content you enjoy. They might have been working on that story for weeks or months, or even years before they got the courage to post it.

They might really be putting themselves out there, writing about a topic or subject matter that they're not sure people will even like or engage with.

Maybe they're exploring something new, like a character or trope they've never written before.

Maybe they're expressing part of themselves that they haven't even told another living soul.

Maybe they just wanted to write something fun and smutty or angsty or fluffy and want to share the escapism with you.

Whether they've been writing for years or are just starting out, any and all is valid.

For me, as a writer and a reader, supporting my fellow writers often means supporting my friends. And 9 times out of 10, the way we became friends was by leaving feedback on their work and asking them questions, or responding to their awesome feedback on mine.

If you want a little jumpstart on how to leave feedback, whether encouraging or constructive, here's an awesome post about it (not mine).

Shoutout to some of my favorite writers 💞:

(In no particular order)

@waynes-multiverse @luci-in-trenchcoats @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @thatonewriter15 @rizlowwritessortof

@waywardxwords @tofics @kaleldobrev @deanbrainrotwritings @deanwritings

@jawritter @deanwinchesterswitch @justagirlinafandomworld @ravengirl94 @waywardxwords

@spnbabe67 @deanwanddamons @ejlovespie @kittenofdoomage @venus-haze

@talltalesandbedtimestories @sam-is-my-safe-word @jacklesbrainworms @artyandink @princessmisery666 (I just starting reading your stories, but I'm continuing with Samnesia soon!) -- and I'm sure many more! 💋

[librababe99]

A Bloom of Despair

Tags: MDNI, 18+ ONLY,  Logan Howlett x Reader, Hanahaki Disease, Angst, Body Horror (descriptions of internal injuries,  physical suffering, mentions of blood), Major Character Death, Hurt /No comfort, No Happy ending

Word Count: 1.1K

Summary: Stricken by Hanahaki disease, you endure the agonizing bloom of petals in your lungs, torn between hope and despair as Logan unknowingly becomes the source of your slow death.

Author's Note: Hi my loves! It’s been a few months since I’ve posted anything on my blog and honestly with everything going on in the world…I have needed an escape. Also this is my first time writing about Hanahaki so I hope I am able to deliver... lol As always comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated! <3

(Marvel Masterlist)

The first petal came while the mansion slept. It was small and delicate, a pale pink thing crumpled between your lips as you jolted awake, choking. The metallic tang of blood was faint but unmistakable, and you stumbled to the bathroom, panic bubbling in your chest. You stood under the fluorescent lights, trembling, staring at the petal in your hand.

It couldn’t be real. But it was.

The next morning, you tucked the petal into a tissue and shoved it deep into your pocket, forcing yourself to smile through breakfast. Logan was there, of course, leaning against the counter with his usual gruff demeanor, grunting responses to Scott’s sarcastic remarks. His dark eyes flicked to you, giving you that half-smirk that had been your undoing since the day you met.

“Mornin',” he said, his voice gravelly.

“Morning,” you replied, your voice betraying none of the chaos inside you. You quickly looked away, your heart racing, feeling the sharp sting of unrequited affection digging deeper into your chest. The disease was already taking root.

The petals came more frequently as the weeks passed. You’d excuse yourself from meals, from training sessions, from late-night conversations, all to cough up those cursed blossoms in private. Each petal was a tangible reminder of what you could never have. Your love for Logan was killing you—literally.

It wasn’t just the petals, either. They began to claw their way up from your lungs, tearing at the tender lining of your throat. You felt the scratches long after each episode, raw and burning, a cruel reminder of what lay inside you. Sometimes you caught glimpses of stems, jagged and thorny, trailing out with the petals. Your hands trembled as you tried to clean up the mess, staring at the streaks of crimson mingling with the delicate pink of the blooms. It was horrifyingly beautiful—a grotesque contradiction that left you sobbing on the bathroom floor.

You tried to suppress it, to smother your feelings beneath layers of forced indifference. But the disease thrived on hope, and you couldn’t stop yourself from hoping. Every shared glance, every accidental touch, every gruff word of encouragement from Logan made your heart race and your condition worsen.

The first full bloom came after a mission. Logan had saved your life, his strong arms pulling you from the wreckage of a burning building. You’d coughed violently in his embrace, blood spotting your lips, but you managed to hide it before he noticed. Later that night, alone in your room, you hacked up a handful of petals, crimson-tinged and velvety soft. But these were not just petals anymore. Nestled among them were small, sharp thorns, jagged and coated in blood. They cut the inside of your mouth as they came, leaving your throat aching and raw. You stared at the mess in the sink, bile rising in your stomach.

Your tears soaked the petals as you sat on the bathroom floor, clutching your sides, which ached from the relentless coughing. You knew what this meant. You’d read about Hanahaki disease in dusty, forbidden texts in Charles's library. Unrequited love that festered into flowers, choking the life out of its victim unless the love was returned—or surgically removed, at the cost of those feelings and the memories tied to them.

You couldn’t bear the thought of forgetting him.

The final blow came one evening in the mansion’s rec room. Jean was there, sitting close to Logan on the couch. Too close. Her laugh was soft and melodic, and Logan’s rare smile stretched across his face as he responded to something she’d said. The sight made the petals rise in your throat, sharp and unforgiving. You felt the thorns digging into your lungs as you stumbled from the room, each breath a struggle. You clutched your chest and fled, ignoring Storm’s concerned call after you.

Back in your room, you collapsed onto your knees, your body wracked with violent coughs. The petals came in a torrent now, soaked in blood, tearing their way out of you. Larger blooms mixed with shards of stems and thorns spilled from your lips, the pain blinding. You felt them tear through the soft tissue of your throat, leaving jagged cuts in their wake. Your chest burned with every cough, the petals relentless in their assault. The metallic scent of blood was suffocating, mingling with the cloying sweetness of the flowers. Your vision blurred, dark spots dancing at the edges of your sight. When it finally stopped, you slumped against the wall, too weak to move.

Logan found you two days later. You hadn’t left your room, and when he kicked the door open, the sight froze him in his tracks. You were pale, your skin clammy, the bed and floor around you littered with withered petals and dried blood. Some of the petals had started to rot, their edges blackened, the sickly-sweet smell making your stomach churn. Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice calling your name, raw with worry and anger.

“What the hell’s going on?” he demanded, kneeling beside you. His hands hovered over you, unsure where to start.

You tried to speak, but your voice was barely a whisper. “I’m sorry, Logan.”

“Sorry? For what?” His brows furrowed as he looked around the room, piecing together the horrific puzzle. “Is this… You’ve been coughing this up?”

You nodded weakly, tears sliding down your cheeks. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“The hell it doesn’t!” he growled. “We’re getting you help. Now.”

You shook your head, your hand reaching out to grip his arm. Your fingers barely had the strength to close around his wrist. “It’s too late.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought you saw something in his eyes—fear, maybe even regret. But you knew better. Logan cared, but not the way you needed him to. Not the way that would save you.

“Don’t do this,” he said, his voice softer now.

“I… I loved you, Logan,” you confessed, your voice breaking. “I just wanted to tell you before…” Your sentence trailed off as your strength faded.

“No, no, stay with me,” he said, cradling you against his chest. You felt the roughness of his jacket against your cheek, the warmth of his body. It was the closest you’d ever been to him, and it was enough.

Your breathing slowed, your hand slipping from his arm. The last thing you saw before the darkness claimed you was his face, twisted in anguish.

When the others found you, Logan was still holding you, his shirt stained with blood and petals. He didn’t say a word as they led him away, his expression blank, his eyes hollow.

The mansion was quiet in the days that followed. Logan was quieter still, spending his nights on the porch, a cigarette between his fingers, staring out into the distance. The others gave him space, knowing better than to ask questions.

In his pocket, he kept a single petal, pale pink and fragile. It was all he had left of you.

[a-drifting-mannequin]

Twins !!: Chapter 1

Fandom: Sonic (MOVIE)

Pairings: Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone; Stobotnik

Warnings (For chapter 1): not fully beta-read, I used military times

Summary: Guard dog? Only one? How about two?

OR

Both Robotnik and Stone are protective/unhinged and you better hope none of them let go of that leash.

(Gonna put both POVs here' Also, giving thanks to Good coffee, Great coffee for teaching me how to make coffee digitally so I know how to describe Stone making lattes; thank you @bluerings for being supportive to the point of terrifying, thank you to everyone else that commented, reblogged and liked the post as well)

****

Doctor Ivo Robotnik, a god taken human form. A never dying machine running on nothing but pure energy and fear from the weak. He produced, delivered, created and killed, walking pass those who are considered below him with a menacing grin. Even the toughest soldiers will fall by his hands, and that meant Stone was one of them.

Even when standing among morons and commoners, he shone and beamed like no other. A beacon of hope to those who dare to approach or to those who could see it. A living and walking message of something greater than life itself.

Stone considered him the center of his life, the sun of his solar system and the heart of his being. Robotnik gave him a purpose, an unending list of tasks to complete, whether difficult or not, and Stone would be damned if he didn’t follow every order to a T. Stone was willing to kill for him, to bleed dry for him and witness Robotnik drink up his blood after he was gone for. Stone would thank him for it

A loyal dog, a devoting worshipper, a willing test subject, a hopeless believer. If given the opportunity, Stone would wear those titles with pride. No shame, no embarrassment, no doubt in his mind about his position beside the genius.

He’s an agent with sufficient skill, with more than two brain cells rubbing against each other to produce enough electricity. A praise he so gratefully accepted from Robotnik. Being able to even exist at the same time as Robotnik was an honor in itself. To be able to serve by the man was a blessing granted from the heavens.

To witness infinite waves of magnificence, of blinding greatness and breath-taking beauty. To be in such a close vicinity was like being purify from the inside out. But in order to be sanctified, he needed witnesses.

Unfortunately, in this world, there’s no such things.

None of his colleagues saw that. No commanders, generals or sergeants could see the good Robotnik had contributed to their system. What he had accomplished would take an average genius over a decade to achieve.

No one was grateful, everyone was judgmental. Hypocrites. Two side of a coin, they say, but no one but Stone flipped to the heads to gaze at the carvings.

Though, Stone should always remember: like any existing gods and goddesses, the doctor had his bad days.

In the past, the people say that natural disasters such as volcano eruptions and typhoons were all the dangerous results of a god or goddess’s anger, displaying their wrath in a more comprehensible form for mortal eyes. All of them had caused death, inconvenience and harm to all living things and inanimate objects.

At least, even when Robotnik is angry, he knows how to control it mannerly.  

One in particular was when he came back fuming and sprouting insults in five different languages while Stone stared and watched in silent, hands still filled with a few reports. A few badniks floated by his side, scanning his and Robotnik’s current health status, coming back with much expected results. A mini-nik was tossed on the table rather violently, but the doctor seemed to have the intention of fixing it later.

“Bad day, Doctor?” Stone asked politely, placing down the mug of coffee he had made a minute before Robotnik’s inevitable return.

“’Bad’ is an understatement, Agent.” Robotnik replied, one hand drummed the surface of his desk harshly but he still reached out with a free hand and gently took the cup from Stone. Their fingers brushed briefly. Stone would usually be hurt by the fact that Robotnik would call him ‘Agent’ from time to time, but it wasn’t uncommon that he would also use that when he’s mad.

Stone stepped up to stand beside him, hands clasped behind his back as he watched his beloved doctor rant and talk about his day, throwing out insults that wasn’t directed at him, more often than not slamming his fists on the table. Throughout it all, Stone dutifully listened, adding comments and providing fun little back talks for the doctor’s amusement.

It seemed to work slightly as he calmed down after every sentence that came out of the agent’s mouth, slowly relaxing in his chair. His fingers flying over the holographic keyboard with more ease than before, eyes more focus and the haze of wrath slowly dissipating.

Then, out of nowhere, an unwanted thought resurfaced in Stone’s mind. One that he had been trying to suppress these last few days.

I wonder how the doctor would look in a collar…

Stone mentally shook his head to try and clear the vivid imagery of royal purple against pale skin, of gleaming silver in the soft blue lights of the lab. A click of the clasp, a hard pull of a leash.

His mind shouldn’t be diving into lakes with a red sign in the front.

This didn’t go unnoticed by the genius still beside him. Robotnik sighed loudly, frustration clear in his tone and posture. Stone cursed himself for accidently spiking his heart beat.

“I can’t work when your thoughts are whispering near my ear, Stone.” Robotnik turned over to the agent, his legs crossed and eyes bored holes into his agent’s soul. His gaze was unwavering, making Stone more nervous than he already was.

Whenever Robotnik claim to be able to hear Stone’s thoughts, the agent swore he would just die on the spot. Stone knew he was no mind reader nor was he psychic, the doctor didn’t believe in such things, but Stone be damned if he hasn’t found a way to scientifically enter someone’s personal mind space yet.

“I don’t have all day, Stone. Spit it out.” The doctor urged, one hand coming up to rest on his cheek, finger tapping his cheekbone impatiently.

Swallowing visibly and holding back the urge to make a joke, Stone looked over to his superior who was still waiting for an answer. Either he gets send home early or gets fired. Stone would prefer the former as he would have space to wallow in self-pity and shame.

“I was wondering- “

“Hurry up.”

Stone sighed, shoulders visibly tensed. “I was wondering how you would look in a collar, Doctor.” He tried to make it quick, but the shame was still there. Some his words got caught behind his teeth, making it sound slurred when it left his lips. No way to professionally worm his way out now. He dug his grave when he even thought about it, now he’ll have to lie in it after revealing it to the man who was considered god in his eyes.

Robotnik stared at Stone as if he was crazy, eyes widening ever so slightly. The cogs in his brain suddenly forced to work over time to dissect each and every word Stone had just said. His eyes drifted off to somewhere far way, finger stopped tapping on his cheekbone but started to press into the soft flesh there.

Stone swore he was going to hyperventilate.

He needed to even his breath out if he didn’t want to dart out the room like a scared animal.

Breath in, breath out.

It’s okay if he fires you. It’s okay if he doesn’t want to see you again.

You’re replaceable. You’re disposable. You’re not worth—

“Fine. If this is a little experiment of yours, I’ll indulge.” Robotnik finally spoke up, breaking the tense silence between both of them. Waving a hand to dismiss Stone, Robotnik pulled himself back towards his desk and started to work again as if nothing happened.

Stone stood there, stunned, staring at the back of his superior’s head.

Did he… agreed to it? Willingly without question?

Before the flabbergasted agent could say anything else, Robotnik was back to staring daggers into his soul, hands absently typing up a line of codes on his keyboard. With a quick jolt and a nod, Stone scurried back to his desk with an unbearable giddiness inside his chest.

Stone knew how gods and goddess work. They don’t just stand down for anybody, much less a mortal that they created. To think about chaining a god or goddess back is to be wishing for a painfully slow death. Only a few ever got the mercy of being dismissed.

Stone couldn’t let go of such an opportunity.

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Robotnik sent him home early for the day, claiming that he had other important stuff to tend to and did not feel like babysitting him. The agent made no comment about his clear schedule. Stone gathered his stuff, told his boss to have a good night before silently walking out to the parking lot. He was sure every place was rigged with a camera or two.

Securing his things onto his bike, Stone circled around the two wheeled vehicle like a snake to its prey, hands held behind his back to make sure no one was pulling tricks on him. Whether it was tying several things to the back of his bike or flat tiring his ride, Stone was having none of it.

After a three-minute check, the agent hopped on – completely ditching the helmet – and took a shortcut back to his apartment. The last thing he needed was a ticket.

The ride back was uneventful, nothing he liked to mention in particular. A tenant in his apartment complex just moved out because, according to rumors, she got married. In remains of that, she left a bright yellow envelope in his mail slot that contained some information about her marriage, mostly likely asking him to come. Several others on his floor also received the same thing, claiming she was just being nice despite not knowing a lot of people well enough. Stone sighed and left it at the front door, not bothering to even give her a proper reply.

She was a nice lady, really. He liked her because she would pipe down when asked, would lend a hand when requested. She wouldn’t ask about his job even though she was curious. She was one of the many reason Stone wondered why he moved out of that government issued condo.

Placing all his stuff down on one side of the couch, not bothering to even organize anything. He darted straight for the bathroom, changing and preparing for bed early. Usually, by this hour, Stone would still be sitting in his living room, sorting out leftover emails for the doctor and checking on his digital calendar, erasing any delayed meetings or ones that Robotnik preferred not to attend. But he was tired, exhausted, and so unbearably restless that doing work wouldn’t sate the feeling. And something else was on his mind.

Stone ditched dinner for the night, opting to just eat an apple after his stomach protested against his choice of not having a proper meal.

Sitting himself down on his bed, door locked, knees pulled up near his chest to support the tablet that laid propped up on his thighs, Stone reviewed his options. He spent around 30 minutes choosing a specific texture and color, picking a design that both him and the doctor would prefer to look at. At some point, Stone went to turn off the lights in his room when it hit 2230, but refusing to sleep, his brain keeping his eyes glued to the screen in the dark.

After he had set his mind on the design that he favored, Stone’s finger hesitantly hovered over the ‘deliver’ button. He reached over to his nightstand and blindly grabbed the eye drops, moisturizing his eyes before they scream in pain from dryness.

Would the doctor be mad that he took his words a tad too seriously? Would he be fired for ordering this even when the doctor agreed to the ‘experiment’?

Stone swallowed thickly, feeling a drop of sweat slowly trickling down the side of his forehead despite the AC in the room. Sighing and turning his head in another direction, Stone tapped at his screen randomly – almost angrily – until the soft blip was heard and his tablet signaled that the order had been placed and will be ready to be delivered.

Stone looked at the estimate time for delivery.

A week. It would probably come in on Tuesday.

Another sigh escaped him. Taking a glance at the time before turning off the tablet, Stone pulled the covers and bury himself under them in hopes of drowning out his guilty thoughts with sleep.

It inevitably didn’t work.

The following days were nothing out the ordinary, to Stone’s relief. Robotnik barely said anything regarding the situation that still had Stone in a chokehold, but knowing the doctor wouldn’t bring it up gave away some tension.

Until the day it delivered.

It was not, in fact, on Tuesday morning like the agent had expected. It sat with the receptionist, a small carefully packaged box with one corner slightly soaked from the rain outside. Stone never paid too much mind to who worked the shift but now he needed to pay attention.

Did they saw the package and assumed it belonged to one of the residents? Did they check the contents inside or just read the label on top?

Most importantly: did they know he ordered that?

Stone sighed internally, shaking his drenched helmet a few times before walking up to the desk. The receptionist behind it looked up at him with bored out eyes. No questions or fake greetings, likely knowing he live in the building and just waiting for him to ask a question.

“When was this package delivered?” Stone asked, trying to keep his face neutral and not give out the fact he was ashamed of himself.

“Around the afternoon, maybe 1400, I think.” Replied the receptionist, who immediately cocked his head towards the package, signaling for Stone to take it. “I saw it in your name, so just take it.”

So: Yes, no and yes.

Stone didn’t know whether to be glad that the receptionist knew it that he ordered it or didn’t bother asking questions about the content inside. Giving him a quiet thanks and grabbing the box more violently than he intended, Stone took one of the empty elevators up to his place with a sense of unease.

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Although it barely weighs like anything, it certainly felt like Stone was carrying a dumbbell to work.

Stone sighed and sped up, passing main security and making a b-line straight for the lab. Some other agents greeted him on the way for some unknown reason, but Stone barely gave them so much of a glance before he was fumbling with his pockets, trying to find his ID and badge to present to the scanner at the door.

The smell of cigarette wafted through the air, just reaching Stone’s nose enough to make him wish for a morning cigarette of his own.

The badniks stationed at the door probably recognized Stone’s unusual nervousness as they quickly accessed the door for Stone to enter. They probably did it out of pity. The agent smiled and thanked them, finally feeling like he didn’t have to be tensed and afraid for nothing.

Well, maybe there was something to be afraid of, but he was nowhere near it yet.

The doctor wasn’t in yet, so that was a good sign. Stone always made sure he arrived two hours before the genius himself so he could clean up and make his latte. Some badniks floated around the lab lazily, analyzing anything that came in their path, which meant analyzing whatever state Stone was in. one badnik perked up and knocked against the arm holding his briefcase. Maybe they found the collar.

“It’s okay, it’s nothing dangerous.” Stone ushered the badniks away, trying his best to shoo them off. Unfortunately, he was dealing with the doctor’s inventions, which meant stubbornness.

The agent sighed and unlatched his briefcase, cautiously pulling out the velvet purple collar with a silver ring attached to the front for the leash (Stone assumed) that came with the collar. Silver and purple was his color choice, with yellow embroidered words that read out ‘STONE’S’ on the back of the collar near the buckle. Stone was embarrassed when the person he ordered it from asked if he wanted to write anything on it (Most recommended was either the pet’s name or the owner’s), but he didn’t pass on the opportunity for it.

The drones scan it carefully, machinery whirring and their usually deathly beam toned down to something that looked like an x-ray scan. Stone stood nervously, his nerves feeling jittery and he swore his heart either stopped beating or was beating way too fast for him to catch on.

Yanking the collar away from the badniks’ scans, Stone hurried to the small kitchen to prepare the doctor’s coffee before it was too late. On his way there, Stone left the collar on Robotnik’s desk, the embroidered name turned away from view and leash nicely coiled right beside it.

Stone let his mind rest from its anxieties as he fell back into the latte making routine, watching the espresso swell and the milk swirl around in the pitcher. The latte was finished in a limited time, perfect the way he wanted it and just how the doctor would prefer it. Stone planned on drawing something more complicated into the cup, so after a minute of shuffling around the small space, Stone propped up a circuit board and started etching every detail onto the top. He was quite proud of what he made, gazing at it with a grin that would split his face in two.

Picking up the cup and choosing a saucer for it, Stone made his way towards the lab, nervous to find Robotnik there, swiveling around in his chair as his hand glided across holo-screens. The collar was still on the table, barely moved let alone touched.

Okay, let’s get this over with. Stone thought to himself as he placed the cup near the collar, eyes lingering on it for a moment to admire the way how the light was caught against the silver buckle.

“Your latte, Doctor.” Stone announced softly, straightening himself and placing both hands behind his back as Robotnik moved over to where Stone stood, picking up the coffee with grace and taking a long drink from it.

The music kept playing, Robotnik never looked at the collar, and Stone was getting more anxious by the second.

Of course. Of course the doctor meant it as a joke, he should’ve known that. Why would he ever indulge in the idea of a collar in the first place?

And Stone thought he was smarter than this. Maybe he was wrong. He should probably remove it from the doctor’s line of sight.

Just as he reached out for it however, Robotnik’s hand darted out and grabbed his wrist tightly, perfectly trimmed nails digging into the flesh of his wrist. Stone pulled back to put his hand back to their original position, and was surprised he was allowed to. The agent realized too late that the doctor was gloveless.

“About time, Agent.” Robotnik commented, clicking a few buttons and turning off the music completely.

Stone just stared.

About time for what? He couldn’t possibly be talking about the collar, right?

The doctor abruptly stood up and took of his coat, draping it over the back of his chair. Stone continued to be frozen in place, eyes widening by the second as Robotnik seemed to take pleasure in removing his coat as slowly as possible. Although he wore a turtleneck underneath, Stone still considered that moment being the first he had seen the doctor so dressed down.

So he was talking about it.

Fixing and adjusting the high neck of his turtleneck, Robotnik beckoned Stone closer with his finger, practically hauling him forward without physical touch. Stone complied without a word.

“Go ahead, Agent, do the honors.” Robotnik said, arms crossed in front of him as he faced his back towards Stone, head turned ever so slightly to look at his stunned agent. He was sure he looked like a tomato.

Swallowing thickly, Stone picked up the collar with shaky hands, already sweaty from his nervousness and slowly placed it around his boss’s neck before fastening it. Not too tight to choke, not too loose to be uncomfortable. It sat just over his Adams apple.

Robotnik attempted at swallowing, picking up his latte and taking a sip from it before he deemed it suitable. Stone’s hands hovered in front of himself, eyes fixated on the collar, the color complimenting Robotnik’s pale skin and dark complexion.

“I’m sure there was another item you have yet to give to me.” Robotnik requested, hand outstretched and an expected look on his face.

Stone’s throat dried up and closed on him. Another swallow, this one dryer than the previous.

The leash laid still coiled on the table, the clasp gleaming lightly in the light of the monitor. Stone picked it up, smoothing his hand across the fabric before attaching it on the back. He wondered why there was a ring in front if he wasn’t going to use it.

After it was fully attached and Stone had backed up more than he should, Robotnik took his sweet time admiring it in a small, circular mirror he had conjured from a badnik. The leash hung loosely and fell down his back, giving the illusion of a well-crafted scarf if it wasn’t swaying from side to side so often with every little movement.

The doctor didn’t seem to mind the fact he was wearing something made for an animal while the agent couldn’t get all the thoughts he had concealed for years under control. The thought rose and died down, pushed to the back of Stone’s mind before any could fully become too vivid.

“Shut up, Stone. What I say goes.” Robotnik raised a finger and pressed it against Stone’s lips. At least he knew the agent was going to open his mouth to apologize. The pad of his finger pressed into Stone’s lips, still and indecisive about whether or not should said finger be pushed into the agent’s mouth.

Stone waited with bated breath. It didn’t happen. The finger was removed and the hand was placed on Robotnik’s hip.

Stone sighed and nodded, a muted ‘yessir’ gone unheard.

The badniks that were nearby floated towards their creator, curiously looking at the new accessory that laid on his neck. Robotnik smirked and let out a breathy laugh, patting their hull and praising them in Japanese. Stone decided to tune those honey covered words out lest he attempt something stupid.

Before Stone could return to his desk with something that didn’t feel exactly like relief but close enough to it to put him at ease, a cold pain shot him square through his heart, making it drop to the pit of his stomach with an imaginary dull thud.

Robotnik immediately took Stone sudden stillness for something relating to either immediate danger or profound annoyance. Twirling the leash around his finger and down his wrist like a telephone cord, Robotnik eyed Stone expectedly, waiting for the stunned agent to speak up about their new problem.

“We have a field test today, Doctor.” Stone said meekly, head down casted with the look of intense guilt on his face. “It’s for the new paralysis system as well as self-destruction and auto pilot system.” Stone listed out the contents of the test, hands fiddling with each other despite his best efforts to stop.

The doctor only hummed in acknowledgement and sighed with annoyance, fingers pitching his temples as a few curses were muttered. He made no move to remove the collar.

Stone’s face heated up again.

“What time, Stone?” Robotnik asked, signaling a few badniks towards the mobile lab.

“In about 20 minutes, Doctor.” Stone said, eyes finally meeting his superior in hopes of him understanding the situation.

Unfortunately, Robotnik decided to be illiterate for the day and strutted off towards his quarters, either preparing the program or to change his clothes (the coat still laid draped on the chair, he didn’t take it with him).

Stone watched in complete mortification, his blood running cold despite his body feeling like it was burning.

Maybe he could get through this, as long as nothing goes wrong. As long as no one stare at the doctor from the back for too long. The collar will still be there; questions will be raise but Stone felt like Robotnik would spare him the shame of answering it and ignoring it all together.

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Stone arrived at their destination first with the permission of using his bike to get there. Stone greeted Commander Walters, the sergeant and the mayor at the scene, pulling out his badge and informing them about Robotnik’s arrival, whether he was coming late or not. They gave him a hollow thanks for his services before sending him to stand with the rest of the agents there.

Stone made a mental note of their names: Sergeant Lucas and Major Emily. Nice looking people, though Stone much preferred to stare into the sun than their faces.

Sergeant Lucas, a man past middle age addressed Stone with a stern voice of a father. Major Emily was younger than the sergeant by a few years, maybe older than Stone by a year, but he seemed to sustain a concerning amount of anxiety for someone his age.

The agent quickly noted that the contamination team was on stand-by along with the medical team, chatting and smoking despite their current role for the scene. Stone sighed at the sight, gazing at the cigarettes longer than he should be.

It took the doctor less than ten minutes to arrive at the scene, the mobile lab deafeningly screeching to a halt, annoying a few standing too close to it. Commander Walters quickly made his way towards the door of the truck, standing a few feet away from it as the steps rolled out. He planned on greeting the doctor and get him through the bare minimum manner he should have, like a mother with a particularly rowdy child.

Robotnik appeared like a god among mortals, little clouds of smoke curling out by his sides. Stone would only think that if it wasn’t for the visible velvet purple on his neck. The leash was tucked away elsewhere, presumably curled up and pushed against the collar of his coat. The commander was reasonably confused and shocked, eyeing the collar suspiciously but not questioning it. Stone winced at the sight of the commander’s slightly raised brow.

Before the test started, Robotnik ordered for Major Emily (now known to Robotnik as Major I-don’t-care) to have Stone be beside him at all times regardless of circumstances. The major tried and failed to explain to Robotnik about the dangers of having an unarmed agent next to him while he conducted the test, but the doctor was having none of that.

Stone sighed and thanked his lucky stars that the back of the collar was covered by the high collar coat Robotnik was wearing.

The test ran smoothly, with little to no unnecessary or wanton destruction. Stone tuned out most of it, knowing how it will all go down considering he got front seats to the new features months before the test at hand.

What Stone hadn’t notice was, during the duration of the doctor’s speech, Robotnik had removed his coat and gave it to one of his badniks, effectively having it carry the coat away and back to the mobile lab. The agent only realized it when Major I-don’t-care (Major Emily, Stone thought to himself) tapped his shoulder.

“Is there something you need, Major?” Stone answered politely, keeping the irritation out his voice.

“Please explain why your name is plastered on the back of the doctor’s…new accessory, agent.” His eyes were squinting from the sun, but his tone reflected uneasiness and a bit of concern. The major looked like he was holding back a load of disgusted statements behind his teeth. Stone felt his face heat up as he turned his head to see that, indeed, some people were staring a bit too intensely at the yellow embroidered words on the back. If Robotnik noticed, he didn’t address it.

A mini-nik was making sure the leash that was still attached to the collar didn’t fall of, carefully and softly coiling it around Robotnik’s and tucking it under his turtleneck while the rest of the audience was distracted with the show the badniks were putting up. Stone silently thanked the mini-nik.

Stone quickly shooed the major away, shuffling nervously by the doctor’s side to try and address the situation without being too obvious. He leaned in and tapped Robotnik’s shoulder once and whispered in his ear when the doctor paused his speech to listen to his agent.

“Doctor, my name is on the back of the collar.” Stone pointed out nervously. There was no way around it, no convenient short-cuts or excuses, so being blunt and straightforward was his best and safest option.

To his surprise – or the lack of it actually, the doctor just shrugged and continued as if nothing happened. As if his agent didn’t order or commissioned a custom made collar with his own name in the back. Stone was sure he could die of embarrassment. Some of the contamination crew eyed him from under their mask. Some judgmental, throwing him disgusted looks while exactly one threw him two thumbs up with a cheery attitude. Stone mentally note to spare him when the doctor took over the world.

Throughout the conclusion of the test, Stone stood as close to Robotnik as possible, looking like as if he might suffer from a heat stroke or a heart attack at any moment. Robotnik didn’t give him so much as a glance, clearly enjoying his time insulting everyone in the audience. Stone wished he was down there.

Eventually, somewhere between degrading someone’s brain matter and explaining the medical side effects of the paralysis system, the sergeant Stone had greeted when he first arrived approached Robotnik with a fury that was a common sight to Stone at that point.

His hands were balled into fists by his side, strides long and firm, each step pronounced by his heavy military boots. The cap that laid on his head previously was gone, letting medium brunette hair with a few grey strands be ruffled by the wind. Robotnik visibly paused at the sight, hands curled slightly in front of his chest and head slightly turned to the sergeant’s direction, an annoyed and disgusted expression laid on his features.

Stone wasn’t sure what spiraled down afterwards as his brain scrambled to understand the situation. When the sergeant started yelling, he was talking about how the paralysis system could possibly endanger an ally’s life if used for the wrong purpose. Robotnik was also yelling back at him, somehow managing to respond to all the sergeant’s stupid question while producing insults of his own.

Later on in the conversation, Sergeant Lucas talked about the auto-pilot system, accusing the doctor of not having a manual override in case of a dire situation, to which Robotnik loudly objected to with a finger pointed directly at sergeant. 

Then it happened. Stone saw it, just a small motion that could be easily missed if he wasn’t careful. The tightening muscle of the doctor’s jaw, how his hands pressed down on the buttons of his control glove, his feet grounding himself and staying put in his chosen position. The doctor had stopped shouting, his voice dying down for a completely different reason. Sergeant Lucas probably thought he won the argument, but Stone knew he was about to be dragged down to Hell and back if he didn’t shut up now.

Unfortunately, not everyone saw the signs of danger before it was too late. Stone had to prevent it. He didn’t want his doctor getting hurt, much less letting him waste his energy on an idiot that would know better if he used his brain.

Stone could feel his pulse rapidly increasing, the sound of his own heartbeat in his ear and his blood not knowing whether to run cold or boil over.

With one swift movement, Stone reached up and untucked the leash from where it was coiled around the doctor’s neck, tucked under the high neck of his turtleneck. The thick and rough fabric met Stone’s hand, and he paused for a fracture of a second to decide whether it was a good idea or not.

His brain worked faster than his physical action, however, as he quickly found himself tugging hard on the leash and pulling Robotnik back a few steps.

“Down boy!” Stone commanded with a tone he rarely used around the doctor, a small choked off noise came from the genius as he was dragged back a few pace. The agent’s voice echoed throughout the field, evoking a few interested faces and some disgusted comments.

The medical team could only gawk from a distance, exchanging alarmed glances as they witness Stone’s impulsive action. The contamination team ushered each other away, ash tray forgotten and snacks left for the raccoons to take.

Commander Walters and Major Emily raised their heads from the other side of the field like a startled deer, eyes quickly darting towards the scene that was being unfolded. The clipboard Walters was holding slowly slipped from his grasp before he steadied himself, gripping on the clipboard for dear life and wrinkling the papers. Major Emily sent a worried questioning look towards the commander, eyes clearly asking whether Stone would die by Robotnik’s hands after they leave the scene or he would be assigned to someone else

Robotnik’s hand came up and tugged on the collar, eyes wide and darting behind him to look at his agent before that hand was dropped to his side. His mind went blue-screened, a quiet but irritating whirring occupied the more sensible part of his mind. Stone’s face was pulled into something cold and calculated, startling the sergeant who had his lips sealed and jaw forced shut.

“We don’t need another HR report.” The formalities were dropped. No ‘Doctor’, no ‘Sir’ or anything of the sort. The usual docile and big eyed agent’s voice dropped an octave lower, eyes staring daggers into the back of the doctor’s head. Stone had addressed Robotnik as if he was the agent in this case.

The doctor nodded slowly, hands unclenching by his sides as he swallowed hard around the collar. Stone knew that pull would’ve choked his doctor or broke his windpipe if he was more violent, but it luckily didn’t. however, it did leave the medical and contamination team in shock. Commander Walters, Major Emily and Sergeant could only stare, mouth slightly hanging while the sergeant’s was still snapped shut.

Robotnik cleared his throat and straightened himself, glancing ever so often at his agent’s expression and the way his hand was still clutching the leash. Stone felt dread settling in his stomach like lead, but he kept his expression up, not letting it falter lest all of this gone to waste. Robotnik brushed invincible dust off himself, scoffing in a softer manner as his eyes darted wildly between the agent that still held the leash behind him and the stunned sergeant in front of him.

With a glance and a simple nod, Stone let go of the leash and dutifully followed the doctor back to mobile lab. Ten mini-niks buzzed around their creator, trying to access his current physical state while Robotnik tried to wave them away. Stone’s face was turned away from everyone else, steady and quiet steps approaching his bike and picking up the helmet, ready to depart.

“Stone, you’re coming with me.” Robotnik ordered, his expression now pulled back to something more neutral as he beckon his agent. The one that just pulled on the leash and commanded him like he was a dog.

Stone’s body gone rigid, his movement stiff but his expression remained cold. He nodded and dropped his helmet down on the seat of his bike, walking over to join the doctor in his truck.

Any government official left on the field could only silently discuss with each other about the scene the pair had caused. Sergeant Lucas was reasonably pissed, immediately falling into an angry, controlled rant about Robotnik while Major Emily’s main concern was about the collar.

“I did ask about it.” Stated the major, eyeing everyone else around him with worry. Commander Walters nodded solemnly, a thumb and index under his chin as he tried to analyze the situation in his mind.

The guy who threw Stone two positive thumbs up were being ridiculed by his teammates, like a little brother with his older siblings. He tried to defend himself, though he wasn’t sure if he had an excuse, so he succumbed to the jokes and mocking.

****

Word count: 6164 words

[bendyartistic]

Be aware of alexbstudios.

Over the course of what I believe a few months maybe, Alex has been harassing me with strange behavior and as of recent hurtful remarks too. He's been bothering other people as well from what I've seen. Probably going to say I should've just blocked him, but I wanted to keep an eye on things just in case. Today was the point in time after everything that I realized I should let people know about this kid.

I want to show from the beginning to present time of the interactions he's done with me. And maybe something can be done about getting him off the platform...

Firstly I want to say Alex has admitted to being 12 years old... apparently. I know this from this reblog. This already is a very large red flag. Considering the young age, no a callout doesn't seem right but I still want to warn people regardless since he's still active on the platform.

Though I am uncertain if this is true, he did not confirm nor deny my question about it.

Now lets get to the start of things. I don't like people reposting my art anywhere without credit, surely that can be said for everyone.

Randomly in May Alex reposted my art, no credit, mention of who made it, or where it came from. I should mention Alex had been following me well before this post, so he knew who I was. Rightfully I responded with a request to take it down as I didn't appreciate this.

Upon making this request he made a small complaint about it, which was unneeded. While he did "delete" the post, it still technically there, just edited. Therefore never officially removed like I had asked.

He also uploaded two other drawings I did, but he did not remove those ones.

Not too long ago on a post I made showcasing my Chris model, as it had been a while since I posted it, and I wanted to let people see it.

Alex later said some... questionable things about it. And it really made me uncomfortable to say the least.

For context in my AU, my Chris is 29. This has been stated before a few times.

I want to get to the biggest thing here however, as this is what drove me to make this post. The consistent weird and hateful DM's he has sent me.

I have told Alex to leave me alone on several different occasions and he has refused to do so. Again I know I should've blocked but as I said, just wanted to wait in case. Truth is I don't like blocking people, never have, I feel weird doing it. But anyways Alex made a poll a week ago if I recall correctly of whether or not he should keep or delete his account. The poll won on keep. No sooner did this happen, Alex was in my DM's bothering me about it after I again told him to leave me alone.

The DM's are as followed with context and info:

He responded with something along the lines of "Then my account would become lost media!" to which I only responded "No one really cares."

Next post is where Alex starts to mock me for being slow with my replies. I don't quite understand what speed he expects me to write my replies at, I guess 5 seconds?

So as you have noticed Alex is now making fun of my autism, and it's going to continue in this unfortunately. Bringing up a disability in an argument should not happen. However at some point Alex accused me of creating alts to vote against his poll, I have none.

I'm not sure why me specifically... and I hate how me being "slow" keeps getting brought up. Also racism is somehow brought into this as well.

He spammed me with the same image repeatedly, and it continued for a while. Passing that, he wanted me to run the same poll he did on if I should keep or delete my account. I obviously declined.

He then blocked me after this.

Alex in the past DM'd me, when he made those remarks about my Chris model. I wasn't happy then and I'm still not about it.

I'm still puzzled as to why he calls being blocked as banned. Besides that this comes to the end of the DM ark. Alex has done other things, such as suggest people to draw strange stuff, edited other peoples work, steal other peoples work, and tried to stir up drama at one point.

In conclusion,

Alex is immature. And should not be here, especially this fandom. But in general he should not be online, it is clear he has unlimited access to whatever he wants.

I am sorry to my friends and others who have had to deal with him. That is all I have to say.

Any questions or whatnot is fine. Reblogs are appreciated in order to spread the word.

[coco-loco-nut]

tumblr

pairing: Oscar Piastri x Reader

summary: idek, an unedited fluffy short blurb

requests open masterlist

———————

Usually your period isn’t this bad, but your body decided to rebel against you.

“How are you feeling?” Oscar asks, handing you a mug of tea as you are curled up on the couch watching your ultimate comfort movies.

“Like shit,” you groan, ignoring the cramp you just felt.

“I can make you a warm bath, maybe light some candles,” Oscar offers, sitting beside you.

“It’s okay, there is nothing Barbie doesn’t cure. You don’t have to sit here all day with me, go ahead and do your training,” you tell Oscar, watching to watch the old Barbie movies in peace, without Oscar worrying about you. He takes your hint without being hurt about it, he’s a big boy.

Honestly, you don’t know how you ended up with Oscar, he doesn’t really look like any of the princes, and those guys are definitely your type.

When Oscar reappears a few hours later, freshly showered, he notices you scrolling on your phone, humming to the music from the movie.

“Babe, I’m going to order pizza, what do you want?” Oscar asks, opening the app on his phone.

“Hold on, I’m about to get with you,” you say, fully invested in your phone.

“What?”

“This has been the slowest burn ever, but we are finally about to get together, in like chapter 20. I hate slow burns,” you huff.

“Babe, we are already together. You married me?” Oscar says confused. You finish the last paragraph and look at him.

“It’s fan fiction, Osc. You know, on Tumblr,” you show him your phone and his eyebrows are furrowed.

“Why?” is all he can say, unsure of how to react.

“I got bored of writing,” you say, closing the app and refocusing on the movie.

“You write the fan fiction? For me?”

“Ew no. That would be weird. I write for the more popular drivers. You know, Charles, Lando, Carlos, Max, Daniel, Lewis,” you list and Oscar just stares at you. You are literally besties with Lando and Charles, but you don’t write for your own husband? He’s honestly offended.

“What do you mean ew? I think how you scream my name most nights contradicts that,” Oscar smirks, your face flaming.

“That’s why it would be weird. I’ve written it but it will never be published,” you admit, a little embarrassed.

“Anyway, pizza. Yes or no?” you quickly reply yes, hoping to move on from the conversation. That night, once you fall asleep, he scrolls through your account, reading the fan fictions you wrote and reblogged. It’s weird, but he enjoys your writing.

The subject isn’t brought up again until one drunken grid and WAG dinner, where Oscar drunkenly blurts it out.

“Y/n’s written fan fiction about us,” he says and all the guys look at you.

“The girls love it. Some of your antics make for great stories,” you defend yourself.

“So true, I love reading them,” Kika says, the other WAGs voice their agreement about it.

“What?” Charles is confused, but Lando, being the child he is, gets excited.

“Which one of us gets the most written about?” he asks and none of you waste a second replying.

“Charles,” the answer is in unison, causing the Monegasque to blush. None of you will admit that Lando is a close second.

Over the next week, you get random texts from them, asking which ones you wrote, but also their thoughts on different ones. Charles is appalled and flattered by the amount of smut written for him. Lando and Daniel are the opposite, they love the smut and how they’re talked up. They also told you that they got ideas from some of them, causing you to want to bleach your eyes out.

Eventually, they found out which account was yours, sent it to each other, and started spamming your inbox with requests. Lando’s tend to be about him winning a WDC, poor guy can barely win as is.

After a week of them spamming your inbox with requests, you decide to post an announcement on your account.

Dear readers,

Unfortunately my account has been outed. I know you all love my works and when I post some behind the scenes information about GPs. Sadly, my friends who work in an important role in F1 found my account and it no longer feels right to write this anymore out of respect for them.

Thank you all ❤️

↪️ user1 she knows a driver doesn’t she

↪️ user2 or an engineer

↪️ cl16racer don’t stop 😢

↪️ y/username sorry buddy, it’s time

↪️ oscarpastryy yeah, it’s a little weird now

↪️ landomorewins it doesn’t have to be!

“Wow, the guys are really torn up about it,” you laugh, Oscar’s arms around you as you cuddle on the couch. You had been thinking about stopping writing them anyway, so it was just a good excuse.

“I just wish you’d publish what you wrote about me,” Oscar kisses the side of your head.

“That’s far too dirty and intimate. It’s what I read when you are away,” you say with a blush. “You can read it if you want,” you hand him your phone. He holds the phone where you can both read it, his other hand running up and down your side absentmindedly at first but more intentionally the longer you read, until you aren’t reading anymore. That might’ve been some of your best sex.

“From now on, when you write like that when I’m away, you send it to me. Promise, Mrs Piastri?” Oscar says, kissing you.

“I promise,”

[strwbrryjxxm]

SEONSAENGNIM

PAIRING: cho sangwoo x fem!reader 

WARNINGS: 18+ !! dead dove do not eat, age gap (reader is in her early 20s and sangwoo is in his mid 40s), dark content, noncon to dubcon, coercion, power imbalance, tutor/ student dynamic, slight verbal humiliation/ degradation, praise kink!, groping, impact play (super short moment), slight mention of overstimulation, no condom (practice safe sex kids), rough sex, dom!sangwoo, sub!reader, smut, slight plot with porn, tiniest mention of YN

please make sure to check the warnings before you read. if you don’t like, don’t read. this fic includes noncon elements that shift to dubcon elements. mdni !!

SYNOPSIS: you need a tutor and who better to help you than the genius of ssangmun-dong himself?

A/N: hi everyone ! i’ve been wanting to publish this for a while (i wrote this back when squid game s1 originally came out and have been debating with myself for ages on whether or not i should share this) and i’ve finally decided to do it :D i hope you guys enjoy,, this is my first time writing smut and getting back into writing fics in general so i’m a bit nervous, but i hope you all like it (please lmk if you do, i would love to hear from y’all hehe)

thank u for taking the time to read :] likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated <3 

somewhat proofread! please ignore my mistakes >.< 

(cross posted on ao3) (also might have accidentally deleted this post so </3 sorry about that guys!)

WORD COUNT: 7,525 

in an AU where Sangwoo uses his brain right and is not in debt

bolded italics = Sangwoo’s text

italics = your text

seonsaengnim = teacher/ sir

You let out a groan as you stared frustratingly at the problem in front of you. This sucked. Going to school sucked. Being a student sucked. 

Why did studying have to be so hard? Especially when you’ve barely been able to learn any of the materials taught by your professor. 

Sighing, you push aside your homework. Whatever. Studying can come later, and the exam is in a few weeks anyway. Thoughts of a well deserved break flashed across your mind. 

Now you’re outside in the city, breathing in the air. It was a nice afternoon, and the smell of the city quickly distracts you from thinking about that stupid math problem. 

Passing by many of the stores in one of those big street alleys, your eyes lit up the moment you spotted a familiar shop you often visited. The shop owner, who you considered a friend, was named Mrs. Cho. She was a kind old woman, always asking about how you were doing and if you had eaten enough for the day. As of currently, she seemed to be talking to a tall man whose back was faced towards you. Maybe a customer?

A grin grew on your face when you noticed that Mrs. Cho had caught sight of you. Waving at her, you hurriedly rushed over to the smiling woman as she yelled over to you. “Come here, come here! It’s so nice to see you today. I haven’t seen you in two weeks, how have you been? You seem to have gotten thinner, have you been eating well?” 

The tumble of questions that flew out of Mrs. Cho’s mouth made you erupt into laughter before you grinned apologetically at the older lady. “Nice to see you too Mrs. Cho. Sorry I haven’t come out to visit you, my studies have been keeping me inside as of lately.” 

You took a moment to glance over to the man who was talking to her earlier. He who stood in front of Mrs. Cho was now standing beside her as she replied to you. He had on rectangular glasses that were rounded at the corners, and dressed nicely in a charcoal grey suit with a white dress shirt that was tucked into his pants. You don’t know him, but something in the back of your mind itched at you. Why does he look so familiar? 

“Ah, are your midterms coming up soon?” Returning your attention back to Mrs. Cho, you nodded and let out a big sigh, bringing a hand up your face to massage your eyes. “It’s been exhausting to study… not to mention that I don’t understand anything my math professor is teaching me. The content keeps getting more confusing… I think I’m too far behind to understand anything now.” 

Mrs. Cho looked at you sympathetically before she grinned from ear to ear, gesturing to the man beside her. “Ah! You remember my son Sangwoo, right?” 

Lightbulb. Her son! The man in the picture frame that she always talks about. 

“Yes, of course!” you exclaimed as you turned towards him. “Ahjussi, it’s nice to meet you!! I’ve heard a lot about you from your mother.” 

You shoved a hand out, holding it in front of him. 

Sangwoo took your hand and shook it, shooting you a short and polite smile. “No need to call me ahjussi, just Sangwoo. It’s nice to meet you too.”

His mother beamed at you. “You remember how I told you he was from SNU right? Well, I was thinking maybe he could help you study for your exam. After all, my son is the best! I’m sure he can help you pass!” 

You blinked owlishly at her. A tutor? You hadn’t thought of that. It would be nice but… judging by the way you saw him just grimace, he doesn’t seem too fond of the idea. Shaking your head, you refused.

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly ask him to tutor me. I’m sure Sangwoo already has enough on his plate.” 

Before Sangwoo could jump in to agree, his mother cut in. “Ah, I’m sure he’ll be fine with it!” Mrs. Cho smiled at her son. “You’ve been telling me how great business has been. I’m sure you have enough time for a little tutoring, right?” 

Sangwoo groaned internally. Yes, he graduated from SNU and yes, business was doing well but… he really didn’t want to spend his spare time tutoring someone he barely knows. Knowing his mother and her insistence though, he decided to accept, just to preemptively stop her from pestering him about it. And also maybe because the young woman standing in front of him was pretty. Maybe. 

Sighing, Sangwoo gave his mom a small smile and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. “I’ll make time to tutor her. You can count on me to do that.” 

Mrs. Cho looked up at Sangwoo, and stretched an arm up so that she could gently pat his face affectionately. 

Your heart warmed at the sight. It was obvious, in more than one way, that Mrs. Cho loved her son. 

Suddenly, someone appeared, asking to buy some fish. Mrs. Cho shouts to them, “I’ll be with you in one second!” She then turns to face the both of you with a smile and advises the both of you to exchange information while she leaves to attend to the patron.

The both of you faced each other awkwardly until Sangwoo pulled out his phone. “May I have your phone number?” You blinked owlishly at him before nodding, “Oh, yes, of course! My number is XXX-XXXX-XXXX.” 

Sangwoo typed in your number and sent a text introducing himself so that you’d know it was him. He glanced over to you to check if you had gotten it, but all he got was a sheepish smile in response. “Ah… I didn’t bring my phone with me because I didn’t think I’d need it since I was just going for a short walk anyways. I’ll get back to you when I’m home though? I’m about to leave anyway, so we can schedule a time to meet through text. Is that… okay?”

Sangwoo nods, “That’s perfectly fine.” 

You let out a relieved sigh, grinning at him. “I’ll be taking my leave now then! Talk to you soon!” With that, you rushed off, but not forgetting to stop to say bye to Mrs. Cho. 

By the time you were back in your apartment, the sun had just set. You rush towards your study desk where you left your phone. 1 new message. Scoffing with a smile, you went into your bedroom and laid down on your stomach, grabbing a pillow to hug as you entered the password to your phone. Opening up your messaging app, you spot Sangwoo’s text at the top of your recent messages.

Hey, this is Sangwoo. 

Snorting, a thought ran through your head. His first message was serious and concise, just like him.

Hey Sangwoo, it’s YN! I just got home.

It didn’t even take a minute before he replied.

What subject do you need help on, and when is the best time to meet you? Do you have time now to arrange a date and time for our first lesson? 

Hmm… I need help with math. We’re relearning some things, but I can’t seem to get past some of the concepts. 

I’m free anytime past noon, so you can pick a date and time that suits you best. 

Well, I normally come into work from mornings until early evening. Do you mind meeting up during then? 

I don’t mind! Since it’s late though, how about we meet at my place? The weather’s been getting cold lately, and I don’t think it’ll be nice to meet at a cafe so late. 

Sure, that sounds fine. Let’s meet tomorrow night then? 

Sounds good! Oh, and here’s my address! See you tomorrow night!

Surprisingly, the next day flew by fast. In the blink of an eye, it was night and you heard your doorbell ring. 

Who… could possibly be visiting at this hour? Reluctantly, you got up from your seat and headed to the front door of your apartment. “Who is it?” you asked. 

“It’s me, Sangwoo.” 

Blinking in surprise, you scolded yourself internally for forgetting as you opened the door. “Sangwoo, hi! I… kind of forgot that you were coming by, so please excuse the mess. I didn’t clean up because I wasn’t expecting company.”

Sangwoo waved his hand nonchalantly, “That’s alright. May I come in?” 

Upon your approval, he took a step in your apartment. Once he’s in, he hears the door closing behind him with a click. Another click is heard and Sangwoo assumes that you were locking the door.

From the entrance, Sangwoo takes a look around your apartment to familiarize himself with what he can see. To be honest, it wasn’t as messy as you seem to have implied. Your apartment was quite neat and minimalistic. It was cozy looking. 

Sangwoo was roused of his thoughts when he heard you speaking gently, “You can leave your shoes here and grab a pair of indoor slippers. If you prefer not wearing slippers, then you can just keep your socks on.” 

He gave a nod to signal his understanding, opting to just stick with his socks. Bending over to take off his shoes, his eyes took a brief look at your feet to see that you were wearing some fluffy slippers. Are those… bunny slippers? He let out a soft snort. How cute.

As Sangwoo removed his shoes, you couldn’t help but run your eyes over him, making small observations. He was dressed similarly to how he was when you first met him the previous day. For someone who was approximately twice your age, he was… quite handsome. 

Feeling your cheeks flush slightly, you shook your head and brought your hands up to gently slap them. 

Straightening back up, Sangwoo stood there awkwardly. Realizing that he was waiting for you to speak, your eyes snapped towards his blazer. “Ah, let me take that for you.” 

Taking a step towards him, your hands pause above the opening of the blazer. Eyes peering up at him for permission, you waited until he gave a small nod before taking it off of him and placed it onto one of the hanger’s hooks.

He briefly thought about how cute it was for you to peer up at him like that. 

“Have you had dinner yet?” you asked. Sangwoo gave another nod. “Yes, I ate just prior to dropping by. Have you?”

“Mhm. Do you want a drink or anything before we get started?” Sangwoo shook his head and declined, so you turned around and started heading to your room. Sangwoo followed closely behind. 

At first, it was awkward and the atmosphere was quite stiff, but after a short while, the both of you became more and more comfortable with each other. Despite his intimidating aura, Sangwoo was a calm and gentle tutor. He never got mad at any of the questions you asked, no matter how dumb it seemed. His explanations were always clear, and he was always willing to explain it a different way if you didn’t understand. 

This soon became a routine for you both. After work, Sangwoo would come by and help you with your math studies, as well as any other subjects you seemed to be struggling with. 

Some nights, he’d bring his laptop with him so that he could work in between breaks of helping you. 

Some nights, you would make him dinner so that he could eat ahead of time or while helping you. It was the least you could do. He’s been such a huge help and thanks to him, you were able to pass your math exam. Your understanding of your other courses were improving greatly too. 

Some nights, you didn’t need much help, so the two of you would end the tutoring session early, whereas some nights, it finished quite late. 

Tonight, however, was the latest it’s ever been. It was nearing midnight and you’ve barely touched on anything. Why? Because Sangwoo was stuck on his laptop, working. 

He had informed you of this beforehand— that the place he worked at had started on a new project, and it was important for him to spend time on it outside of work. You didn’t mind, really… but it was getting late and you were getting tired. Not to mention that you had an exam the next day and there was one thing you didn’t understand at all. 

Leaning back on your chair with a huff, your hands tugging on the drawstrings of your hoodie. As you tried to think of something to get Sangwoo to stop working, your eyes bore into the ceiling with furrowed eyebrows. 

Next to you, on the other side of the desk, Sangwoo turned his head slightly and stole a glance at you. Right now, he was supposed to be your tutor… but he’s not. Instead, he’s doing work. He felt bad for focusing on his project for the majority of the time he’s been here, but it was really important. The company could decline if this wasn’t done correctly. It wasn’t something he could just push to the side, despite him not being at work. 

Letting out a loud sigh, he turned his head back and allowed his work to consume him. Funny enough, his sigh brought you out of your thoughts, and you let out a sigh of your own as well. 

Your bottom lip pushed out and turned into a pout.

You stood up from your seat, and walked over to Sangwoo, standing there for a second to observe him. With the built routine, Sangwoo found it natural to take off his blazer every time he came to your apartment. As of now, he was wearing a white dress shirt and light grey dress pants. It was similar to the outfit you first met him in, which made you reminisce a bit. 

Tugging on the sleeve of his dress shirt, you called out to him, “Sangwoo.”

No response. Let’s try again. “Sangwoo.”

Eyebrows furrowing, your pout began to shift into a frown. 

Puffing your cheeks, you let go of his sleeve and crossed your arms in frustration. Was he ignoring you? 

You stood still for a second, your hands dropping down to the front of your legs. Fumbling with the edge of your shorts, you tilted your head back up to stare at the ceiling, trying to think of another way to catch his attention. 

Ah! Maybe this could work! 

Shifting closer to him, you leaned down and put your lips next to his ear, whispering, “Seonsaengnim.” 

Sangwoo jolted and turned his head towards you in an instant, making you jump back in surprise. The two of you stared at each other wide eyed before Sangwoo spoke, “What did you just call me?” 

“Seonsaengnim.” 

Blinking slowly, Sangwoo continued to stare at you in shock. He felt electricity spike down from his chest towards his nether regions. His lips parted slightly and he inhaled sharply. “What?”

Confused, you tilted your head to one side as you stared back at him. “Seonsaengnim. I called you seonsaengnim.” 

Exhaling slowly, Sangwoo felt his pants tighten below. This… this was not supposed to happen. Narrowing his eyes at you, he gave you a light glare. “Don’t call me that. You don’t usually call me that, you can just say my name like you usually do. Why did you call me that?”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise in bafflement at his little ramble and question, crossing your arms across your chest, glaring back at him. “You were ignoring me earlier when I tried to ask for help, so I thought calling you seonsaengnim would catch your attention and it did.”

Sangwoo sighed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you. This project is just really important and I wanted to make sure everything is being done correctly so far. Would you give me ten more minutes to sort through this? I promise I’ll explain anything you need help on.” 

Pinching the bridge of your nose, your eyes shut and did a little scrunch, exhaling through your nose in slight annoyance. “I guess waiting a little more won’t hurt much. Just… ten minutes?” 

He nodded and did a small “X” motion above the left side of his chest, “Promise.” 

Mirroring his nod, a small “okay” slipped out. “I’ll be on my phone resting on my bed while I wait!” With that, you hopped on your bed, bouncing a bit as you lay on your stomach. Ten minutes. You were definitely gonna time him.

What you didn’t notice was that Sangwoo’s eyes were tracked on you. Sangwoo silently gulped as he stared at your legs. His eyes trailed up your body until he reached the curved outline of your ass. 

What you didn’t notice… was that your ass was bent right over the edge of the bed, and your shorts were now clinging to your bottom, showing off each curve. 

How would it feel if his cock were to press up against your ass?

If his cock wasn’t hard earlier, he was definitely sure that it’s hard now. Clenching and unclenching his fist, he took his eyes off of you and went back to work. He had to focus. After all, he only had ten minutes. 

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. 

Grimacing, he looked away from his laptop screen. His erection wasn’t leaving at all. He tried shifting his legs, but that didn’t work. All he could think about was the fact that you called him seonsaengnim.

Ah… his cock just twitched. 

Tsk… this is ridiculous. He should work. But he couldn’t. Not when his cock is hard like this. Maybe he should leave? 

No, no. He couldn’t do that. He promised you that he’d clear up any confusions you had on your subject. 

He sighed loudly and shut his laptop.

Your ears perked up at the sound, twisting your body and rested your head on your elbow. “You’re done? It’s not even ten minutes yet.” 

Sangwoo nodded, “Yeah, I finished up early. So, what did you need help on?” He could feel his heart jump to the back of his throat when you bounced up from your position and set your phone on the table, sitting back on your chair and spinning it in. 

Finally spinning back to face him, you shot him a tired grin, pulling out a workbook and showing him what you needed help on. Sangwoo leaned closer to take a look at what the concept was, accidentally breathing in the smell of you. There was no perfume, but you smelled just as sweet as if there was. 

He blinked once and exhaled softly. He wouldn’t mind if this smell lingered around him forever.

As Sangwoo explained the concept, you nodded along, following every word. It didn’t take long for him to explain and because he was such an excellent instructor, there was no need for him to repeat it.

“That was a lot simpler than I thought. Thank you Sangwoo. You really are so smart… I don’t understand how you’re able to retain all that information,” you praised. Sangwoo shrugged, lips curving up slightly. “It’s not that hard.” 

You rolled your eyes, smiling as you got up from the chair, “Pfft, for you it’s not.” 

Packing up, Sangwoo stood slowly, trying not to make too many movements so as to not disturb his erection that was thankfully softening up after his explanation. 

“Well, it’s pretty late. I should get going now.” 

“Ah yeah… I hope your project is going well. Thanks again for your help, seonsaengnim.”

Swiftly turning his head, he glared at you. “I told you not to call me that.” 

And maybe you didn’t think he was being serious because your face held a playful expression, eyes full of mischief. “Oh come onnnn… it’s not that bad…” you said, pausing for a second before continuing, “... seonsaengnim.”

Sangwoo sighed heavily and pushed up his glasses, the reflection of them glinting for a second. His cock was beginning to harden again. 

“It is that bad, so please don’t call me that again.”

Taking a step forward, you bent forward as you crossed your arms and stuck your tongue out at him childishly, leaning back again. “Seonsaengnim, seonsaengnim, seonsaengnim~”

There was a grin on your face, but it quickly turned into shock as Sangwoo took one big step forward and grabbed you by the shoulders, pushing you backwards onto your bed. 

Lifting yourself up by the elbows, you tried to get up, but Sangwoo shoved you back down again. His body leaned down and trapped you against the mattress as he placed both his hands beside your head. 

“Sangwoo, get off of me! What do you think you’re doing?!” 

Trying to push him off of you was no use because he wasn’t budging at all. 

Grabbing one of your hands, he swiftly guided it to the bulge in his pants. “I told you to stop and you didn’t. This is why I wanted you to stop.” 

Your hand stiffened and you froze upon feeling the hardness that was pushing against the fabric. 

Abruptly, you pulled your hand away and stared back up at him in shock, before your eyes darted around to avoid his eyes, feeling sorry and embarrassed. 

You hesitantly attempted an apology, but he quickly shut you down, shushing you as he pressed his body closer to yours. The hardness of him pressed against the thigh of your leg, making you inhale nervously. 

Sangwoo’s mouth neared your ear, and you could feel his breath on it, making you shiver slightly out of sensitivity.

“Ah ah ah… I told you multiple times to stop calling me that name. It’s too late to apologize now. I think… you deserve to be punished.”

Gasping, you turned to look at him again, his face meters away from yours. 

“P-punished… how?” you asked, nervously stuttering. 

Sangwoo’s hands left the side of your head and started moving around your body, gently tracing your figure. He stops at the edge of your hoodie. Without warning, he shoved one hand under and trailed up, aggressively grabbing at one of your breasts and twisting one of your nipples.

“Hmm, no bra?” he questioned, tone so teasing that it makes you feel so much more flustered.

Biting your lips, you hold back the shocked moan that would’ve slipped out. Instead, you exhaled slowly. Your nervous arousal sends a shock down towards your clit. 

He leans down again and this time, kisses you, surprisingly gentle at first before gradually becoming more aggressive. Your hands move up, one gently holding his face while the other tangles itself in his hair at the back of his head, unconsciously pulling him in closer.

Sangwoo slips another hand in and by now, both his hands are fondling your tits. Muffled gasps and moans escape from your mouth as he’s kissing you. It didn’t help that his hands were slightly cold, further stimulating your sensitive nipples. 

Suddenly, he stops and you can’t help but whine at the loss of contact. Your hands reluctantly let him go, resting at the top of your exposed stomach while he straightens himself up and stares down at you with a slight smirk. 

The bottom of your hoodie rests slightly below your breasts and your lips are puffy, glistening with saliva from his kiss. You’re out of breath and disheveled… and it’s all because of him. 

“Was that my punishment?”

He chuckled and took off his glasses, taking a step back to put them on your desk. He turns back around, gently grabbing your wrists and pulling you up into a sitting position. With a slight pressure, his hands run up and down the top of your arms and shoulders. 

“No, no. Your punishment hasn’t even begun yet.”

Sangwoo gestures down towards his pants, “You made me like this, so it’s only fair that you take care of this hmm?” 

He takes a step closer, standing between your spread out legs. Your eyes are wide as you stare at the obvious tent in his pants. Your hands are gripping the bed sheets nervously. 

“But—” 

“Ah, ah, ah… No buts.” He grabs the back of your head and pushes your face against his bulge. 

“This. Is. Your. Fault.” 

With each emphasis of each word, he presses his erection against your face in a thrusting manner. 

He could feel his cock twitch and twitch at the friction he was creating. Despite wanting to keep that going, he controls himself and takes a step back. 

“Take care of it for me.”

You look from him to the tent on his pants then back at him. Sangwoo stares at you expectantly.

Your eyes shift back towards his pants and slowly, your hands move up and unbuckle his belt. Unbuttoning and then unzipping his pants, they drop down and he steps out of them. 

Silently swallowing the buildup of saliva in your mouth, you stare at the outline of his cock in his boxers before gently running your hand across the length. It’s rock hard and…

“It’s so big,” you murmured softly, making Sangwoo feel prideful. 

Pulling down his boxers slowly, your face burns as his cock springs out, brushing against your face.

Sangwoo takes a step back to fully remove his pants and boxers, dropping them to the ground and stepping out of them. He kicks them to the side before returning to his previous stance.

Exhaling nervously, one of your hands wrap around the base of his cock. You move upward, rubbing your thumb against the slit while your other hand holds one side of his hips. Soon enough, your hand is moving up and down at a quick pace, slick with precum. 

Pausing your strokes, you could hear the sharp inhale of frustration from Sangwoo. Before he can say anything though, your head moves forward and takes his tip into your mouth. 

Sangwoo lets out an audible groan as you start sucking him off. Your hands are holding the side of thighs for stability while your head bobbed up and down. 

You moaned, the arousal of pleasing him go travel straight down to your clit, making it throb. 

You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. 

Sangwoo’s hand tangles itself at the top of your head, brushing some strands back before grasping your hair and pushing your head down. 

Your grip on his hips falters and you push against him in surprise. You could feel his cock hit the back of your throat as you choked on it slightly. 

Despite your shock, Sangwoo continues, both hands now gripping the side of your head.He moves your head back and forth, thrusting his hips forward at each downward pull, fucking your mouth at a quick pace. 

Each thrust sends pulses of arousal downwards to your throbbing clit, making you moan. 

Sangwoo groans, the vibration of your moaning adding to his pleasure. As he feels himself about to cum, he hastily pulls out his cock, a string of saliva mixed with precum sticks to your mouth that connects to the tip of his cock. 

Hands slipping from his thighs, you lean back on your elbows and your hands grip the edge of the bed, breathing heavily. You’re looking up at him, eyes half lidded in a daze. He stares back at you with a dark gaze, latching onto the messy sight of you. 

Lips glazed and dripping with saliva and precum. His precum. He could feel his cock twitching again. 

His intense stare makes you look away as you try your best to recompose yourself, lifting the back of your hand to wipe away the excess fluids on your lips. 

“We’re… done, right?” you ask hesitantly. 

Sangwoo smirks at you, bending down to caress one side of your face. His satisfaction grows when you close your eyes unconsciously and lean more into his hand. Unlike earlier, his hand is much warmer and the feeling of his thumb lightly stroking your cheek is nice. 

He slowly moves his thumb to your lips, applying some pressure to it, making you open your eyes to look at him. Leaning down, his lips are barely touching yours and the ghost of his breath on your lips felt tantalizing. 

His hand moves down and tilts your head up by the chin, giving you a swift kiss. “Silly girl… we’re far from done.” 

Sangwoo lets go of you and you’re frowning at the loss of contact. You look up to find him already leering down at you, unbuttoning his shirt and letting it fall to the floor. He kicks them to the side in the same direction as the rest of his clothing. 

“Why not?”

His dark eyes stare into yours. 

“Because I haven’t cum yet.”

You take a sharp inhale at that. 

Lifting you up into his arms, he moves you so that your entire body is sitting on the bed. He carefully undresses you as if not to scare you, but the lingering warmth he leaves behind contrasts the cold air in your room, making your nipples harden. 

He tosses your garments aside and his eyes rake over your body before meeting yours again. Both his hands move up to hold your face, one hand sliding down to hold the back of your neck while the other grips your shoulder, pushing you backwards.

As you're laid down, your legs are automatically spread apart, thighs resting on his as he’s leaning forward on his knees. 

Sangwoo gives you a deep kiss, his tongue slipping inside of your mouth, teeth slightly pulling at your bottom lip while he goes to leave a trail of wet kisses down your body.

He sits back up to gaze down at you. Your cheeks were flushed pink, eyes wearily staring back at him with parted lips, trying to catch your breath. 

His hands roamed around your body, but never fully touched your skin… only ghosting above it. 

You bit your lip and furrowed your eyebrows as his hands went near your breasts, hovering above them slightly. You could feel the warmth radiating from his hands and you wanted them on you. 

Your hands go to grab his wrists, pulling it down so that his palms are on your breasts. 

“Please touch me,” you requested softly. 

Sangwoo groped at your breasts, kneading them and pulling at your nipples, smirking when your grip around his wrists became tighter. “Such a needy girl… aren’t you?” 

Shaking your head, you denied the statement. It wasn’t your fault that you were so aroused. Not when he kept touching you like this. 

Each twist and pull sent shocks of pleasure downwards, straight to your clit. Eyes closed and oh so focused on the sensation of each pull, you didn’t notice that your thighs tried to press and rub together to give yourself some friction. 

Sangwoo did though. 

You couldn’t stop the whine escaping from your lips as he stopped playing with your tits. “W-why’d you stop,” you asked, huffing slightly with a pout.

As one hand shifted downwards to hold apart your thighs, the other brushed a thumb against your clit, making you gasp loudly. 

Smirking, Sangwoo applied some more pressure, rubbing your clit in a circular motion. Your hands grab at the bedsheets, and you bite your lower lip to muffle the embarrassing noise that wants to escape, exhaling through your nose. 

His eyes narrowed at this and removed his hand, slapping your pussy harshly. 

A loud moan escaped from your mouth. 

You could feel your face heat up as the blood rushes to your cheeks. 

Looking up at him, your breath hitches while the both of you make eye contact. His eyes hold a dark look and tension coils in your stomach. 

“Don’t close your mouth… I want to hear you.” 

“But… that’s embarrassing…” you said, lips quivering slightly. 

He raised an eyebrow, “And? What of it?” 

Sangwoo resumed touching you, his thumb rubbing your clit more harshly than before. Your gasp quickly turned into soft moans. 

“Mmm, w-wait— ahhhh.”

Your hands moved to grab hold of his hand and push it away, but his hand would not budge. 

“You can’t stop me that easily, silly girl.”

Shifting his hand, he angles it so that he can insert one finger inside of you and then another… all without stopping those circular motions on your clit. 

Ignoring more of your attempts at protesting, he can feel you getting wetter and wetter. 

Your face is burning in embarrassment as you hear yourself moaning loudly, the lewd squelching of his fingers shoving themselves roughly into your cunt sounds obscene. 

“Ahh… mmm!!” 

Your head is spinning and you’re lightheaded as your thighs clamp together so that he wouldn’t be able to remove his hands.

Sensing that you were near your release, Sangwoo uses his other hand to separate your thighs, removing his hand.

You let out a huff of frustration, glaring at him. You were so close… 

He glared back at you, which made you turn your head to the side, puffing your cheeks slightly. “You’re mean, seonsaengnim.”

There it was again. That word. 

Seonsaengnim. 

Narrowing his eyes at you even more, he shook his head. “I’m not being mean, little girl. This is your punishment, remember?” 

You stayed silent, not wanting to respond. Of course, this further agitated Sangwoo, making him grab your face and turning it back to face him as he leaned in close to you. His other arm moved up from your leg, and groped at one of your breasts harshly, making you whimper. A shock of arousal travels downwards. 

“Hasn’t anyone ever taught you to look a person in the eye when they’re talking to you? Looks to me like you need more than one lesson.” 

Sangwoo’s hands move to fondle your breasts, kneading them and pulling at your nipples. You can’t help but moan as he does this repeatedly before he straightens his back and shuffles his knees forward, his cock rubbing against your clit and wet folds. 

This makes you panic slightly, your hands surging forward to pull at his wrists, trying to stop the hands that were retreating to each side of your hips. An obvious sign for what’s about to come. 

“W-wait!"

His eyebrow quirks at you, “What is it?” 

“I think we should stop… isn’t this going a little too far?” 

He narrowed his eyes at you, furrowing his eyebrows. He could feel the slickness of your pussy and you’re telling him to stop? You’re practically dripping for him… and he was aching to just shove his cock into your cunt and fuck you.

Shaking his head, he tsked you. “You were the one who started this… you should take responsibility. Plus… don’t you want this too?”

“N-no, I tried to tell you to stop earlier—”

“But you didn't.”

“But I—”

“Ah ah ah… you were moaning when I was fucking you with my fingers and you were whining when I took them out…” 

Sangwoo presses his hips slightly forward so that his tip rubs against your clit, the action making you feel shiver feverishly. 

“... Don’t you want to feel good?”

“Mmm… but—” 

A hand of his moves to stroke himself, slapping his cock thrice against your clit, making you moan. 

Your clit is throbbing and your pussy clenches around nothing. You feel so empty… What if he just… 

“Don’t you?” 

No… no… you shouldn’t. You shake your head, but it’s too late.

Without any warning, Sangwoo pushes himself into you and bottoms out. Your pussy clenches around him tightly, and he feels like he could cum just right there. 

He gives you no time to adjust as he thrusts himself in and out. The pace is not fast, but every thrust is deep enough to hit your cervix. 

As Sangwoo leans forward, his hands pin themselves at your sides, supporting him as he rams his cock into you. 

Moaning, your hands move up to grab his upper arms in shock. It’s been a while since someone has been inside of you. It felt… different. More warm and…

Your eyes widened in shock as the realization hit you. 

“You’re not wearing a condom!”

“And?”

Sangwoo didn’t falter. 

He didn’t even flinch. You thought that upon telling him, he’d stop. Instead, he started rotating his hips slowly whenever he reached deep inside of you. 

“Hngh!! It’s not safe!”

“It’s not, but…” He gives you one big thrust and your head falls back, mouth open, moaning. “... it feels good right?” 

Thrust in, thrust out. Thrust in, thrust out. 

“But— ahhh!! Mmph!! Nnngh~”

Sangwoo’s pace quickens as he fucks himself into you, his movements becoming rougher and rougher. 

Your wanton moans echoed throughout your room, and the sound of skin slapping against skin was so loud and lewd.

“Ahhh.. nngh… Sangwoo… mmm!!~”

At the sound of his name, Sangwoo pauses for a second, shrugging your grip off him. You watched with lidded eyes as he took hold of your hands, interlocking his fingers with yours. 

Not wasting any time, he thrusts deeply into you again and he resumes his previous pace. Sangwoo relishes your moans as he buries his face into your neck. 

Feeling his hot breath makes you shiver.

“Nngh!! Sangwoo, ahhhh!” 

His lips ghost your ear, “See? Doesn’t it feel good?” 

Your hands squeeze his, moaning in response as you stutter out a no. 

Sangwoo clicks his tongue in disapproval, “Stubborn girl… I’ve made a mess out of you and you’re still denying it?” 

Quickening his pace again, he emphasizes each thrust. 

“Nnngh!! Mmph— ahh!” 

Another thrust. 

“Answer me.” 

It was clear from your moans that you were enjoying it. You knew you were enjoying it… but you were just embarrassed.

A tightness fills your chest and your eyes start to burn. Some tears fall and Sangwoo moves to look at you when he hears you sniffle. 

His pace slows to a stop, hands separating from yours to wipe your tears away. He was being surprisingly gentle, unlike how he was just a minute ago. 

His hands rest on your cheeks, making gentle circular motions while he waits for your answer. Your hands lightly hold onto his wrists as you speak, “I- it feels good… ‘m just embarrassed…” 

Sangwoo could see your lips tremble slightly. If you were making eye contact with him, you’d see that his eyes had softened slightly. 

Your eyes flit over to him when softly pinches your cheeks, flushing when you see that he’s smiling down at you affectionately. 

You feel a pressure on your lips and you realize that he’s kissing you. A light kiss. 

“See? That wasn’t so hard now, was it? Good girl.” 

You avert your gaze again, feeling your cheeks warm again from his praise. 

He chuckles, giving you a hard thrust, hitting that one sweet spot. He doesn’t miss the way you clench around him, eyes fluttering shut.

“Mmm— ahhh!!!” 

“Sweet girl, look at me.” Your eyes open right away at his command, making him smirk.

“Good girl. You’re so good for me.” You let out a whine as your pussy clenches around his cock. 

“How about I give you a reward, hmm?” 

“A… reward? Mmph!!”

Sangwoo’s thrusts hit that spot again and your hands move to tangle themselves in his hair, pulling him closer.

His hands rest on the side of your head to maintain balance.

“You’re taking me so well— been such a good girl… I thought I'd give you a reward. How’s that sound?” 

“Mmmph… ahhh!! Y-yes… p-please!!” 

Sangwoo lets out a breathy laugh, to which you can feel on your neck. With no warning, he roughly rams his hips repetitively into that sweet spot of yours. Your eyes shutting tightly, feeling a huge wave of pleasure crash over you. He can feel your pussy contract around him as you cum.

He doesn’t just stop at that though.

Sangwoo gives you no time to recover, thrusting deeply into you and hitting your cervix again. 

You gasp at the feeling, shuddering from overstimulation. “Mmmm— wait!! S-sangwoo… S’ too much!!” 

He gave you a small tsk. “Just a little more… it’s not fair if you’ve cum and I haven’t, right?” 

“Ahhh!! Mmm—!” You try to form a response, but it’s hard when he’s hitting your sweet spot so roughly without pause. In a desperate attempt to keep yourself stable, your hands grip his shoulders.

His hands move down and suddenly, you feel your body ignite. You could feel your heat coiling as your lower abdomen tensed— the rise of your next orgasm building up. Tears form again and you let out a choked sob. 

The pressure on your clit combined with how he’s hammering his cock in you feels so, so good. Sangwoo raises his head from your neck and kisses you.

Suddenly, your orgasm hits you and your eyes roll back as you cum, moans muffled behind his lips. You feel yourself clenching repetitively around his moving cock as you wait for your high to pass. 

Chasing his high, Sangwoo continues to ram into you, relishing the feeling of your tight pussy around him. He delves into the crook of your neck again, peppering a trail of kisses down to your shoulder.

You whimper, feeling his cock twitch inside you and then… something warm floods in. Sangwoo muffles a moan against your skin, panting and breathing heavily. 

Your head feels blank as he fills you up. It feels so, so nice. 

His movements slow to a stop, collapsing on top of you. His cock is still inside of you, slightly throbbing. 

You both lay there for a moment, your arms naturally around his neck, playing with his hair. 

Sangwoo slowly rises and removes himself from your body, his cum oozing out of you. 

He takes a moment to admire you from above, your tired fucked out expression making his chest swell with pride. 

He leans down and gives you a quick kiss, “Sweet girl, you were so good to me.” 

Your hands tenderly caress his cheeks as you return the kiss, heart leaping against your throat. “Anything for you, seonsaengnim.”

Clicking his tongue once more, he separates himself from you, rolling his eyes. “Didn’t you learn anything from that punishment?” 

Smiling up at him, you give him a lazy shrug. 

As Sangwoo moves off the bed, his hand pulls at one of your legs, spreading your thighs open to stare at his cum leaking out of you. 

He rubs your inner thigh, squeezing it gently as shooting you another grin, “Let’s get you cleaned up hm?” 

Nodding, you sit up. Sangwoo stands up first and you move to do the same, but your knees buckle. His hands grab hold of your hips, sitting you down. 

Your cheeks flush in embarrassment and you move to hide your face in your hands. Sangwoo chuckles softly and you look up at him shyly. 

He’s staring down at you with such a warm look in his eyes. “Stay here. I’m used to your place enough to know where the bathroom is. I’ll get the bath ready and help you clean up, hmm?” 

A sweet smile appears on your lips, “Sounds like a plan. Thank you Sangwoo.” 

Sangwoo ruffles your hair and heads to the bathroom. It only took a few minutes before he came back, holding out a hand for you to take. 

You gladly accept and he hoists you up to your feet, lifting you up into his arms and carrying you in the direction of the bathroom. Your hands scramble to wrap around his neck and you feel the rumble of his chest as he laughs. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t drop you.” 

True to his word, he carried you all the way to the bathroom. It wasn’t far, but it still came as a shock that he was able to carry you after everything that just happened. 

Sangwoo set you down gently into the bathtub, which was filled with warm water and bubbles that comforted your muscles. 

He climbed in after, sitting in a way that allowed you to recline into his chest. A content sigh escaped your lips while your eyes closed to enjoy the feeling of it all. 

Seeing that you started to doze off, Sangwoo shook you gently. “Hey, I think we’ve spent enough time soaking in the bath hm?” 

You nodded sluggishly and sat up. Sangwoo got out first, drying himself with a towel and then helping you out. He patted you down to dry you, then set the towel aside, lifting you into his arms once more. 

When he sets you down on the bed again, you’re nearly asleep. He snorted gently as he got into bed beside you, covering the both of you with a blanket. 

Pulling you into his arms, he gives you a kiss on the forehead.

Your words slur out of exhaustion as you bid him a goodnight, snuggling closer to him. “G’night Sangwoo.”

“Goodnight silly girl.”

(Let’s hope that you’re able to wake up for your exam tomorrow.)

[flowerandblood]

ONE YEAR OF FLOWER&BLOOD

✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙

Exactly one year ago I posted my first chapter of the My Best Friend series. Nowadays I think it's something awful and I don't even try to edit it because I'd have to write everything from scratch, but I've left it for people who feel attached to the story. I remember getting about six likes and one comment on the first day and that huuuuge interest made me eager to create chapter 2 and then all the others.

I remember the excitement with which I waited and then replied to comments, not believing that people were actually waiting for the next chapter. At the time I was literally not following anyone, which was good because I wasn't comparing myself to anyone.

Eventually I felt I was ready to try writing other series and a few were successful enough that I decided to stay here permanently and create because it made me happy. Up to that point, everyone had been very kind to me and I started following more and more blogs, wanting to feel part of the fandom, to make friends with everyone. Now I know that was the biggest mistake I made.

Seeing things that didn't interest me, fanfic's whose way of writing couldn't draw me in, I felt frustrated, while at the same time fearing that if I stopped following someone, that person would see it as an affront. At the same time, The Impossible Choice, my biggest project until The Fall from the Heavens (which I'm currently editing and re-editing, while inserting on AO3), began to be written.

Just when I thought I had reached the pinnacle of my abilities (which wasn't true), I also started to clash with anonymous hate messages, probably the worst of which were those vilifying me and my husband, and those regarding my one-shot with Micheal Gavey. I know now that taking it personally and getting involved was my big mistake, and the fandom was shaken by drama that got out of hand.

I was a few steps away from deleting my blog at the time, but my husband talked me out of the idea (thankfully, as my stories aren't saved anywhere else − I'm only now moving them to AO3).

That's when I first realised that some people here I don't even like, and they probably don't like me. I wondered, why are we following each other then? Why are we pretending to have any courtesy? It was only later that I realised that to be considered someone's friend, you have to reblog their work and preferably agree with them even when they write hurtful things.

Since I've depleted my circle of those I follow to about 20 people, since I've blocked dozens of people and tags, there's been blissful silence (with the exceptions of when I write about behaviour in the fandom that I find toxic and someone accuses me of causing drama, but I'm used to it now). I've also never written happier than I do now.

Ideas come to me on their own, I don't feel uptight about what other big people will think of me, whether they reblog it, approve of it or not. I don't give a shit and life is beautiful! Although I can be emotionally unstable, I'm only 70 people short of crossing the next milestone of 3,000 followers, and that's BIG for me. It amuses me that I keep getting messages that someone is going to block me or stop following me, and you guys keep coming. It's gratifying.

I'm going to keep writing for you guys, and I'm sure during season two you'll also see my posts describing my impressions after the episodes in which I hope to involve my husband. I'll also keep you updated here on how I'm doing with my book I'm creating in my private life.

Apreciation

@ewanmitchellcrumbs

Ange. I know that sometimes I'm fucked up, but I want you to know that you've made this place so much more bearable for me that I can't imagine it without you. What I appreciate most about you is that you can talk and discuss, that you always try to understand the other side, that you are empathetic, warm and kind. I feel that, like friends in everyday life, we can also tell each other about things we disagree about, and there are not many people like that here.

On top of that, you are very talented and your stories are always a pleasure to read, even when they are short, you are able to build the plot and atmosphere perfectly, something I have always admired. Thank you for every kind word and understanding.

I still remember your first message to me via ask, referring to the fact that I didn't want to write a pairing with a mermaid because someone else was writing about it at the same time. My heart melted then, it was so nice!

@targaryenrealnessdarling

Liz, Queen of Angst! Your calmness and composure puts me in awe. You're disgustingly talented when it comes to writing and you have a super-sweet personality. When you started following me I began to squirm with delight, and when you started reblogging my stuff? My goodness!!!

@persephonerinyes

You've been engaging and reblogging my stories for as long as I can remember. Always involved, your thoughts make me smile. Thank you for being with me for so long!

@zenka96

You've been here with me since the dawn of time. You know that I love you. Your support from the very beginning really makes me feel like I have a friend here.

@huramuna

I am so proud of you! I remember your asks when I wrote Glass Cuts Deepest, your illustrations for me and your uncertainty about whether you should start writing yourself. I'm so happy for you and that you are so successful! You deserved it.

@black-dread & @aegonx

You are my favourite gif makers. Your work always leaves me in awe, you are amazing! I know how much work you put into it and somehow you make even the worst lit scenes look wonderful!

@summerposie; @0eessirk8; @melsunshine; @immyowndefender; @bellaisasleep; @kckt88; @thedamewithabook; @happinessinthebeing; @queenofshinigamis; @travelingmypassion; @mefools; @fan-goddess; @toodlesxcuddles; @ammo23; @troublesomesnitch; @mariahossain; @out-of-life; @apothe-roses; @heavenhatesme; @whitearemydarkestnight; @liv-cole; @blackswxnn; @echos-muses; @watercolorskyy; @at-a-rax-ia; @tssf-imagines; @snh96; @hiatuswhore; @exitpursuedbyavulcan; @darylandbethfanforever9; @the-dendrophile-bookdragon; @opheliaas-stuff @zaldritzosrose

Your comments and reblogs make me want to keep writing. You make me laugh, you comfort me and you support me. I know I'm definitely forgetting someone, but I want you to know that I love everyone who comments on my stories and there is nothing better for me than responding to your reactions and questions! I have known some of you for so many months that I truly consider you my good friends!

lottie-blue-star; aveatquevale-; aemondtargaryenwifey marvelescvpe; alphard-hydraes-blog; herejusttostan; li0nn3stuff; alexandrawho; vilmakamunen; angelinap09; theloveablestargirl; rose-blue-19; xxxkat3xxx; flosaureum; mandiiblanche; librawh0re; jasminecosmic99; ivvypg; rojocarnation; killmanduh; tokkiiidoll; wolfdressedinlace; angelofvivianne; nina2697; starwarsgirlsimmer1; katsucker; ipostwhtifeel; aemondsdelight; ilswemoon; tigrigri; pasta-rask; roselibrary; lystargs; gemini-mama; nikstrange; tempo-rary-fix; coffeeobsessedtrencher; gwuinivyre; dreamerbythewayx; diiickbrainn; mothmankit

And everyone else I missed and whose icons I would recognize from afar. I know that you have been with me for many months, often in silence or communicating anonymously. Your silent support and presence is something wonderful for me, knowing that you have been with me for so long and read all my posts!

Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!!

[yoongissweetdream]

Changbin: Prompt 09

-> Pairing: Seo Changbin x Wife!Reader

-> Requested by: Anon

-> Prompt: 09 - He forgets his and his wife's anniversary.

-> Warnings: Forgetful Changbin.

-> Word Count: 508

500 followers = 500 words Masterlist | Main Masterlist

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead

“Let’s take a break,” as soon as those words left Chan’s mouth, Changbin pulls out his phone and looks at it. He finds his messages have gone left unanswered and unread. His call from earlier unreturned.  

It isn’t like Y/N to leave him on unread or not return his calls. He begins to feel concerned and looks at Chan, Han and Seungmin who are all in the room discussing Seungmin’s parts in the song their working on. 

“Has Y/N messaged or called one of you?” he asks interrupting their discussion. 

They all shake their heads no after checking their phones. “Is something wrong?” Chan asks seeing the frown on his chosen brother’s face. 

“She isn’t replying to my messages or calls,” he says as he calls his wife’s number again. This time it goes straight to voicemail after one ring. 

“Did you do something to upset her?” Seungmin asks.  

Changbin goes over everything that’s happened over the last few days, trying to come up with a reason why she would be upset. Then it hits him. He looks at his phone again, seeing the date.  

“It’s the 15th right?” he asks the others making sure he was reading it right. They all look at their phones before nodding this time.  

“Don’t tell me you forgot?” Han says this time, also realizing what today is.  

“No wonder she’s ignoring me!” he shouts, angry at himself that he forgot one of the most important dates of his life. Standing up from his chair, he collects his things and makes his way to the door of the recording studio, “I have to go. I’ll talk to you all later.” 

On his way home, Changbin decides to surprise Y/N by picking up her favourite flowers and ordering all her favourite dishes from the restaurant she loves.  

As arrives home, he found himself struggling to unlock the door, so he resorts to knocking instead. When the door finally opens, he presents the flowers and food to her with a smile. She seems unimpressed at first, but eventually allows him to come inside. 

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes as he walks inside. “I really have no excuses for forgetting our anniversary,” he says as he places the flowers and food on the dining table, before turning around to pulls her into his arms. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he continues to apologize as he places kisses all over her face. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” 

Y/N couldn’t help but melt into his arms. She couldn’t stay mad at him even if she tried. It tore at her when she ignored his messages and calls earlier. She was just about to call him back when he knocked at the door. 

She wraps her arms around him, letting her know she forgives him but to never let it happen again. After he promises not to, he brings her in for a kiss before pulling away. He makes her sit down while he serves dinner and places the flowers in a vase. 

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[ninii-winchester]

Unveiled Sorrows (Part 4)

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader, Sam Winchester x Reader (platonic)

Word count : 3.6k

Warnings : spoilers s1-5, angst, so much angst, violence, language, mentions of pregnancy, unedited.

A/n : This series follows canon plot line but some scenes might happen differently or be completely changed. Check the warnings for each part before continuing.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

It had been a few weeks since the boys have been on the road. They called often. But it was mostly Sam. Sometimes to ask for help in research or sometimes just to make sure she's okay. Sam informed Y/n that there might a way to stop the apocalypse, as Gabriel told them, they can throw Lucifer back into his cage. The key to the cage being the rings from the four horsemen. Luckily they already had two of them. They just had to get the other two.

Bobby went out to help them with a witch problem. More like to get help himself. Cas hung around while Bobby was gone.

"How're you doin', Y/n." He asked the girl.

"I'm good honestly." She smiled. "Maybe after Lucifer is back in the cage, we could have a somewhat normal life."

"You're right." Cas replied.

"Cas I'm sorry." Y/n started. "For the times I've been mean to you. I know you were doing what you thought was right."

"It's alright. I understand." Cas said with a smile.

Bobby came back the next morning and he looked solemn. Y/n noticed and she knew something was wrong.

"Alright spill." She said sitting in front of him. The older man just sighed and looked away. "What did they do now?"

"Those idjits are trying to kill me.." He exclaimed. "How did you put up with all that all these years?" He asked.

"You get used to it, Bobby, Cmon tell me what is it now?" Y/n smiled thinking it can't be that bad.

"Sam wants to say yes." Bobby stated.

"What?" Y/n exclaimed standing up from her seat. "Why? I thought we had a plan."

"Yeah but you don't expect Lucifer to jump in out of the goodness of his heart, do you?" Bobby asked rhetorically.

"Yeah so what he's gonna sacrifice himself? What did Dean say about this?" Bobby looked away giving her the answer. "You've got to be shitting me! Dean agreed??" She exclaimed.

"I think this might actually be good idea." Cas spoke for the first time.

"Cas, not a good time buddy, lord so help me i will rip your lungs out." Y/n snapped.

"Technically that's not possible since I'm an angel. Although it would be inconvenient since I'd have to find another vessel." Cas replied his in monotonous voice.

Sometimes she hated the Angel. She left the room without a word. She can't believe Sam would suggest something like but, no wait she can because he's dumb like that. What she can't believe that Dean and Bobby are actually considering it. She slammed her foot on the car infront of her, cursing in frustration.

The boys didn't come back for atleast another week. Y/n heard the Impala pulling up in driveway and she knew they're here. She stood at the bottom of the staircase and watched as the door opened and walked in Dean. She didn't know what she was hoping for but a nod of acknowledgment just wasn't it. Dean made his way to the main room without a word. Sam entered the house few moments later.

"Hey Y/n." He greeted her and her mind went haywire. Her anger flared and all she saw was red. She was angry and upset, Dean's behaviour added fuel to the fire. Before she knew she took a step forward and punched Sam in the face causing him to reel back. He held his nose and hissed.

Dean came rushing to Sam's side and Bobby wheeled to see what the commotion is about.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Dean asked angrily.

"Me? What is wrong with you two. All of you?" Y/n screamed. "You're going to say yes to Lucifer? You're gonna let him take you?" She asked incredulously looking at Sam.

"Y/n i know it's a hard pill to swallow but we don't have another choice. You can't just expect to ask him nicely and he'll jump in." Sam understood she's upset. He understands she can't let her best friend go. He put his hand over her shoulder but she shrugged it off and went to the main room. The others followed her behind.

"There has to be another way. Why do you have to sacrifice yourself?" She asked throwing her hands up.

"One life for seven billion lives. I don't think it's a bad bargain." Sam replied softly.

"What about us, what about me and Dean, your family?" She felt her lip quiver. "Why do you think it's your responsibility to be the one saving the world.?"

"You know damn well I started the apocalypse. It is my responsibility." Sam replied feeling himself getting angry.

"And you don't have anything to say about this?" She turned to Dean hoping he'd say something. When he didn't say anything Sam spoke.

"Look, Y/n there is no other way, we have War and Famine's rings, we're gonna get Pestilence's and Death's rings. I say Yes to Lucifer, We open the cage and I jump in."

"And you think he'll let you do that? You think he's not gonna take over your body as soon you say Yes." Y/n countered.

"It's worth a try." Sam replied.

"No it's a stup-"

"ALRIGHT ENOUGH." Dean's loud voice boomed making her flinch a bit. "You need to stop, you hear me? This is our decision to make. We were chosen for this and last I checked the world doesn't revolve around you." Dean said directly looking at Y/n.

"Dean." Sam said trying to calm his brother but the older Winchester didn't waver.

"I suppose the decision has been made. We don't need your input. Either you help or you walk out. The door's that way." Dean said looking into her eyes, pointing towards the door.

"You watch what you're saying, boy."  Bobby spoke for the first time in a while. "Need I remind you this is my house." Dean looked away at Bobby's stern voice.

Y/n didn't speak nor did she breath, how could she. She felt as if her heart has been ripped out of her chest. She didn't cry, everything inside her wanted her to scream and yell. To breakdown and hope that its a terrible nightmare that would be over soon.

"Is this your final decision?" She asked the same question she asked him after everything with Alistair went down. A single teardrop slid down her cheek.

"Yes." Dean replied. Unnerving and firm in his decision. In that moment she knew it was over. Everything was over. At this point who was she even kidding, there was nothing to begin with. At his confirmation all she did was nod her head. And she made her way up to her to room. The main room fell silent as she left.

"Dean what the hell?" Sam exclaimed and Dean left the room without a word.

Y/n didn't come out of the room the whole day. Bobby couldn't go up to check on her and Sam didn't know if she wanted to see him. Dean however remained indifferent. Sam grabbed a beer from the fridge and went outside. He felt like he was going to suffocate inside. He sat on the hood of one of the many cars present at the yard. He heard footsteps and looked to see Y/n coming outside. She stopped in her tracks when she noticed Sam sitting there.

"Sorry I'll just go." She said softly before turning back.

"Y/n-" Sam called out to her. She turned to look at him. "Please stay." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Sam-"

"Please." She nodded and made her way towards him and he helped her up. The two of them sat in silence. Dean saw Y/n and Sam talking, sitting on the hood of a car. He couldn't help but eavesdrop.

It was quiet for moment before Sam spoke, "I'm sorry." She didn't look at him nor did she say anything. "I'm sorry it came down to this. I wish things could've been different." She still didn't speak but looked at him. "I know it's hard for you to accept and i know if i were in your place I'd react the same way hell even worse. But you have to know this is my redemption, for what I did. I set him loose and I have to be the one to send him back."

"I understand Sam." Dean heard her say. "Truth is, I was being selfish, I didn't want to lose my best friend. I didn't want to lose my family, but the real truth is I realised that I never had one." She tucked her knees to her chest. "I found out the hard way but all in good time." She smiled even though she felt her heartstrings were seconds away from snapping.

Dean felt like his whole body was on fire as he heard her say that. He knew what he did, and he knew what he said. But he had to keep her away. He couldn't let her get hurt, so it doesn't matter if she walks away hating him. What matters is she walks away. Alive and Safe.

"That's not true Dean...he just... he didn't mean it. He's angry. He might not show it but the decision is affecting him too. He didn't mean any of it." Sam tried to explain.

"You and I both have been with him long enough to know he meant what he said." Y/n looked into Sam's eyes, her eyebrow raised and lips tugged upwards. Her face screamed are-you-really going-to-argue-you-know-i-am-right. Sam looked away because deep down, he knew Dean meant it. His posture, the way he spoke, it was familiar to him. "I assume this is goodbye?" Tears filled her eyes as she asked.

"I wish it wasn't." Sam replied pulling her into a bone crushing hug. Y/n was thankful that they were sitting so he didn't crush her stomach. However his hands were tightly wrapped around her shoulder and her's around his torso.

"I wish i knew what to say to make you stay." She sobbed in his chest. Sam couldn't help but let a few tears roll down down his cheeks and onto her hair. "Please don't go Sammy." She cried, her body shaking with intensity.

Dean wished he could join them, he wished he could comfort them both, he wished he could tell them that's all gonna be okay. But his feet were glued to ground. The only thing he wanted to do was protect his family. He failed to protect Sam but he knew he had to protect her so he made a decision and he's going to stick to it.

"I have to. But you have to promise me you'll take care of yourself yeah? You won't be reckless." He pulled away to look at her. "As much as I love you I have no desire to meet you on the other side anytime soon. You hear me?" He joked and it made her chuckle through her tears.

"Bold of you to assume I’m going to Hell.” She tried to joke but it only made her cry more. “I promise. I'll be safe." She sniffled as they pulled apart. "I'm leaving." She told him.

"What? Where?"

"I don't know." She shrugged.

Dean has never felt so broken before. The two people he loved the most in his life are leaving. And he can't do anything to stop either of them. Life has always been a losing game for him. But being ripped off of his family, all at once it was too much to bear. He didn't know how long he could hold on so he went inside. He couldn't hear it anymore.

A month has passed since Y/n left Bobby's house. Much to the older man's dismay. Last thing she knew before leaving that the boys were searching for Pestilence. She had been living in a motel room that she had booked for a month. She went to see a doctor as well, and found out she was three months along now. She was lost in thought staring at the ultrasound picture when her phone rang. Her heartbeat accelerated as she picked up the phone. It said Cas. She pondered whether to answer or not.

"Hello." Her voice shaky as she answered.

"We have the key." The angel spoke. "We're going to Detroit." He spoke.

"What do you want me to do Cas?" She asked, she hoped Dean had asked him to call her. She knew he was too stubborn to call herself but she hoped.

"I thought you'd want to know."

"Did they tell you to call me?"

"No. It was me." Her hopes were shattered.

"Alright Cas."

"Will you come?"

"No." With that she hung up. She couldn't go. What would she even do? Watch her best friend jump into the hell fire? She'd pass.

As Sam and Dean drove to Detroit, the tension in air was so thick they could cut it with a knife. Dean kept his focus on driving and Sam kept fidgeting with his fingers. He couldn't take it anymore.

"Dean." Sam turned to his brother.

"I'm not doing the goodbye crap." Dean replied without looking at Sam.

"You have to listen to me." Dean raised a brow and urged him to continue. "You have to promise me you won't try to bring me back." Sam said with urgency.

"What? I never agreed on anything like that."

"Dean. No, you have to promise me that you won't bring me back. You get out."

"Out?" Dean questioned.

"Out of Hunting, Dean, you go back Lisa. Live that life you always wanted to live. I just want you to be happy man, I hope by some miracle she takes you back."

"What about y/n?" Dean asked subtly.

"What about her? She left. I hope she's happy wherever she is. But I can't have you trying to find her." Sam said seriously.

"Why not?" Dean side eyed Sam.

"Because then you two will try to bring me back. I need you to get away from this life Dean. I need you to promise, you'll go back to Lisa and you'll live the apple pie life." Sam explained. "Don't try to find Y/n again, I just want you two to be happy. And if you two keep trying to bring me back, you won't get out of this life." Dean looked at his brother and his heart raced a thousand miles per hour. "Promise me Dean."

"I promise."

Y/n paced back and forth in her room. She can't seem to get it all out of her mind. Damn you Cas, she cursed grabbing her stuff and her car keys. She threw her things in the backseat and left for Detroit.

For Dean, it all happened in a blink of eye yet it felt like time had slowed down. They met up with Lucifer after Sam had chugged down all that demon blood. Sam said Yes which allowed Lucifer to get inside Sam's body. Dean threw the key at the wall and said the incantation to open the cage. He saw Sam fighting for power over his body but then Sam said the incantation to close the cage. He took the key off the wall and pocketed it. Lucifer had taken over and Sam was gone. They lost.

The war was going to happen and there’s nothing Dean could do. He had the power to keep it at bay but then the angels had brought in Adam and Micheal had taken over him. The war was now inevitable. Millions of people were going to die. Michael and Lucifer will fight in Sam and Adam's bodies.

Dean called Chuck to ask him if he saw what happened and Chuck said he did. The Winchester asked the latter if he saw the outcome of the war but he denied saying he couldn't see that far. But he told him he knew when and where it'll happen.

"Where Chuck?"

"Tomorrow high noon, at Stull Cemetery." Dean hung up and revved the engine to meet up with Cas and Bobby. He couldn't sit there and wait for a duel to happen between two angels. He had to do something.

Y/n drove as fast as she could to reach Detroit and she saw Cas calling. She answered the phone keeping her eyes on the road.

"Cas?"

"We lost."

"WHAT?" She stomped the brakes. A screeching sound was heard.

"Sam couldn't take over his body. Lucifer closed the cage and took the key. Michael and Lucifer will fight." Cas told her.

"Wait how? Dean said he'd never say yes to Michael.." Cas cut her off.

"They brought in Adam."

"You know your kind is a bunch of assholes?" Y/n growled.

"I know, I wish things..!" Cas stopped talking as he heard Dean calling his name.

"Cas.. Bobby." Dean said approaching the two. Cas didn't hang up just shoved his phone back inside his pocket.

"What's going on Dean?" Bobby asked.

"I'm going to stop this war." She heard Dean say.

"What? You don't even know where or when it will happen" Cas replied.

"I know. Tomorrow noon, stull cemetery."

"But it's not possible. It's Michael and Lucifer. You can't stop them." Cas said solemnly.

"I can't just sit here and wait for destruction. I know I can't stop them, but my brother's in there. I can try." Dean said getting into his car.

Stull cemetery, Noon.

Y/n repeated those words in her head and she stepped on the Gas. She had to be there. She arrived there at before anyone else did and hid behind the bushes. She saw Sam walk in the cemetery but it wasn't her Sam anymore it was Lucifer. She watched as Adam appeared out of nowhere. It wasn't Adam anymore it was Michael.. The two talked for a while their voices getting louder and then she saw The Impala driving in , music blaring from the speakers. Her heart squeezed at the sight of Dean.

"Hey. We need to talk." He said walking towards Sam/Lucifer.

"Dean, even for you, this is a whole mountain of stupid." Lucifer said.

"I'm not talking to you I'm talking to my brother." He replied.

"You're not a vessel anymore." Adam/Micheal said.

"I just need five minutes."

"You have no right to be here. You're no longer a part of this story." Michael walking towards Dean when Cas called out to him.

"Hey, ass-butt." And threw a molotov cocktail at Michael but it was made of holy fire, which made him disappear. This made Lucifer angry.

"Castiel, did you just Molotov my brother with holy fire?" Lucifer snarled at Castiel.

"No?" Cas answered, if it wasn't an apocalyptic situation Y/n would've laughed.

"No one dicks with Michael other than me." Lucifer said before disintegrating Cas to nothing.

Lucifer then moved towards Dean and grabbed him by the neck. Bobby shot at Lucifer to which he just flicked his hand and cracked Bobby's neck. Y/n couldn't just watch anymore. She jumped out from the bushes as Lucifer kept punching Dean. He threw him against the car and bashed his face with his bare hands.

"Dean." Y/n yelled as she ran towards him.

"Oh hello there darling." Lucifer said in a sickening voice. "I knew someone was missing when these two showed up. You were in Carthage weren't you?" He asked.

"Let him go." She said staring down at Lucifer. Dean was brutally beaten. His face was swollen and bloodied. His eyes were barely visible due to all the swelling on his face.

Lucifer threw Dean on the ground and he collided with the Impala. He groaned as he hit the car. He watched as Lucifer walked towards Y/n.

"Sammy don't do this please." She begged hoping he's in there listening.

"Sammy's not home darling." Lucifer snarled as he grabbed her by the neck. Pulling her off the ground. "You know I could've let you two live if you'd just stay away. I care about Sam and I know you two mean a lot to him. But you're so annoying, you two." Y/n gasped trying to get his hands off her.

"Sam please." She cried.

"Sammy." Dean groaned. "Let her go."

He looked at Dean and his gaze fell on the an action figure stuck in the Impala, something flashed in Lucifer's eyes and he let Y/n go. She gasped as she dropped to the ground. Coughing up as she tried to take as much air as she could. Lucifer looked at Dean and Y/n and the two looked back at him. It wasn't Lucifer. It was Sam. He immediately fished out the key from his pocket and threw it on the ground. He said the incantation to open the cage and it appeared on the floor. Sam turned to look back at Dean and Y/n. She was sobbing on the ground while Dean looked at Sam as if he was trying to remember his face. With one last look at his brother. Sam jumped. Michael reappeared trying to stop Sam from jumping in but he pulled him in too.

As soon as he jumped Cas came back to life. He pressed his two fingers to Bobby's head and brought him back to life. Castiel then walked to where Dean was and healed him completely.

"Cas, are you God?" Dean asked.

"That's a nice compliment but no." Cas replied. "But I believe he brought me back."

Dean nodded and looked around and saw Y/n still on the ground, sobbing. He turned back around and got into the Impala. He did what no one of them had expected. He drove off.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @queensilber

[arcane-vagabond]

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter One

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter One

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.

Trigger warnings: Alcohol consumption, Sassy Bob, Flirty Bradley, Supernatural elements, Siren calls. I think that's it?

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: Here is chapter one!! I hope you enjoy this story as much as I am enjoying writing it lol I'm so excited to continue this one. Just a quick reminder to you all that I will be out of town Wednesday-Saturday, so I'm not sure how much I'll be able to update as I will be attending a wedding! As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated! 18+ ONLY!! You can also follow me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond where I will be posting updates as well!

Series Masterlist

You crossed the bridge to North Island a few hours later, the sun hanging low in the sky, but not quite to the point of setting. You marveled at the expanse of water that stretched on beneath you as you drove.

“Not sure why the founders wanted to settle way the hell out here,” Bob grumbled beside you. “We’re too small to even have a damn Walmart.”

“Walmart is overrated,” you told him, turning the radio down. “Besides, small towns are so cute!”

“Not when you’re forced to live there every day,” Bob retorted with a roll of his eyes. You rolled your eyes back at him, repositioning Rusty who still sat on your lap.

“You’re too close to it to see all the charm it has to offer.”

“I give it two weeks before you eat those words,” he smirked. You reached over to smack his shoulder lightly, and he looked over at you in mock shock. “Don’t hit the driver!”

“Well, maybe the driver shouldn’t be such a cynic,” you teased, leaning back. Bob chuckled as the car reached the other side of the bay, passing the crowded beaches. “Does North Island get a lot of tourists?”

“Only during the summertime, really,” he replied. “It’s a calm, quiet little town with white beaches and pretty views all over the island. The founders have really played into the local legends over the years, so we have a lot of souvenir shops dedicated to those.”

“What local legends?” you asked him, quirking a brow. Bob flushed, the tips of his ears turning a bright red.

“It’s dumb,” he grumbled, but you were listening intently now.

The two of you drove through the downtown area, people milling about and enjoying the end of the summer day. The dinner crowd was beginning to pick up and you could hear the music blaring from several different buildings.

“No, come on,” you grinned. “You can’t drop that little tidbit and then not tell me.”

“Alright, fine,” he sighed, glancing at you. “For as long as the town has been around, there have been stories of…things in the water.”

“What do you mean? Like a really big fish or something?”

He shifted in his seat, turning down a side road that led away from town.

“I mean,” he hummed, “things like mermaids.”

You laughed at that, and Bob grimaced. “I told you it was dumb,” he muttered.

“No, no,” you giggled. “It’s cute, really. I love mermaids!”

He rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t if you grew up surrounded by them.”

“There you go being all cynical again,” you scowled. “I would have killed to live somewhere like this with such fun local legends.”

Bob pulled down a gravel driveway and past a grouping of trees. You saw a grand, white house perched at the edge of the hill overlooking the water. A porch wrapped around both the first and second floor, and you saw a path lead down the hill towards the beach.

“I’m glad one of us is excited to be here,” he chuckled, coming to a stop on the blacktop as you stared at the large house in front of you.

“You live here?” You asked, looking over at him in shock.

Bob had the decency to look sheepish as he turned off the car. “Yeah, this is home.”

At that moment, a small, blonde woman opened the door with a wide grin. She rushed out onto the porch as a burly, spectacled man stepped out behind her. Bob opened his door, and you followed suit. Susan Floyd rushed down the steps and up towards you, wrapping you in a warm hug before turning to give her son a matching one. Richard Floyd gave you a warm smile as he clapped his son on the back.

“You two must be exhausted after that drive,” Susan cooed, ushering you into the house as the two men moved to get your luggage out of the car. You smiled warmly at her and allowed her to lead you into the house.

“I’m not too tired,” you told her as she sat you down in a stool by the island in the kitchen. It was a spacious room, opening up into the dining room. A set of glass doors led out onto the back porch, the ocean sitting front and center in the beautiful view of the beach below.

“That’s good,” she hummed, stirring the pot on the stove. “Are you hungry, sweetie? I made some of my special spaghetti. It’s Bobby’s favorite, you know.”

Bob groaned as he stepped into the kitchen with his father. “Mom, I’ve told you. It’s not Bobby, it’s Bob.”

Susan smiled at the younger man affectionately. “Yes, of course dear. Were you hungry?”

“Starved, actually,” he smiled, plopping down in the seat next to you. Susan began piling noodles and sauce onto two different plates before setting them down in front of the two of you. Bob uttered a thanks before shoveling a healthy fork full into his mouth. You giggled, watching as he ate like he hadn’t eaten in months. You took a much smaller bite than he had, humming at how good the sauce tasted. It had a hint of red wine that pulled out the flavors of the garlic and herbs.

“How’s it taste?” she smiled at you, leaning against the counter.

“Ifs delisus,” Bob said through a mouthful of noodles. She scowled at him before throwing a napkin at him.

“Don’t talk with your mouthful,” she scolded before turning to look at you expectantly. You chuckled before nodding your agreement.

“It’s delicious, Mrs. Floyd.”

“No, none of that,” she scowled. “Call me Susan.”

“Yes, Susan,” you smiled. She smiled at you before turning to clean up the rest of the kitchen. Bob inhaled his first plate of spaghetti, and Susan was quick to load his plate up with more.

“Has Bob told you any of the town’s history yet, y/n?” Richard asked you from his spot at the dining room table. Bob groaned, hiding his face in his hands as you smiled.

“He told me about the mermaid legends,” you grinned. You saw Susan pause out of the corner of your eye as Richard gave you a wry smile.

“I don’t know if I would call them mermaids,” he mused, giving a pointed look at his son who refused to meet his gaze. “But our town has a long, storied history, yes.”

“Oh?” You asked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

Richard hummed, leaning back in his chair. “No, mermaid is an insulting term for what these creatures are. They’re fierce hunters, preying these waters with deadly accuracy. Sometimes they even hunt on land.”

“What do you mean?” You frowned. Susan gave him a warning look, but he continued.

“They say these creatures come out of the depths to prey on humans on the land, dragging them into the depths never to be seen again.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Susan snapped at him, Richard giving her an apologetic look. “I don’t want to hear any more of that nonsense tonight. Why don’t you make yourself useful and go take out the trash?”

Richard heaved a sigh, standing to obey her. He passed you with a wink, dropping a hand to your shoulder.

“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about, y/n,” he smiled, turning to head out the door. Susan sighed, turning to look at you once she heard the door close behind him.

“I’m sorry about him,” she grumbled, shooting a glare at where her husband had just disappeared. “He loves those crazy stories. Don’t even pay him any mind, okay?”

“I don’t mind!” You assured her. “I think it’s all very interesting. The most anyone talks about where I’m from is Bigfoot.”

“As much as I would love to hear you go on your bigfoot theories tirade again,” Bob spoke up, rolling his eyes. “I thought you might want to go out tonight.”

“Bobby, I’m sure she’s tired,” his mother started, but you shook your head, turning excitedly to look at your best friend.

“No, it’s fine!” You chirped. “I think it would be fun to go out and get to see the sites. Where did you have in mind?”

“I was thinkin’ I could take you down to the Hard Deck,” he mused.

Susan rolled her eyes at him. “You want to take her to a bar of all things?”

“Why not? The gang is going to be there tonight, I already texted them to make sure. They’re anxious to meet her.”

Susan seemed to brighten at that. “Oh, you’ll love’em, y/n! They’re such a good group of kids, and I just know they’ll love you too.”

“So we have your blessing then?” Bob joked, earning another scowl.

“Yes, you kids go out and have a good time, but don’t be out too late! I think your father said something about wanting to take the boat out tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, ma’am!” He mock saluted, earning a smack to the top of his head this time. You chuckled at the two of them as Bob rubbed the back of his head. He turned to look at you with a scowl at your obvious amusement. “C’mon, I’ll show you your room.”

The night was warm despite the cool breeze blowing in through the window from the ocean, and you chalked it up to the densely populated bar you now found yourself sitting in. You had followed Bob inside, having to grab his hand in order to keep from getting separated amongst the crowd.

“Bob!”

You turned to see a group of five seated at a large table on the far wall next to the patio. The only woman in the group raised her hand to grab his attention, and Bob eagerly dragged you over to them.

“Hey, college boy,” grinned a tanned man with long, curly hair that was slicked back. “How’s it hangin’?”

“More importantly,” said the dark-skinned man across from him, looking at you, “who’s your friend?”

“Guys, this is y/n, my best friend from Duke,” he gestured to you with a grin. “Y/n, this is Mickey, Reuben, Natasha, Javy, and Bradley.”

Each of them waved to you at the mention of their name, and you waved back with a small smile. The mustached one, Bradley, grinned up at you before shuffling over on the bench.

“Ain’t no need to be shy, sunshine,” he winked at you, gesturing to the now open seat next to him. “We’re all friends here.”

You sat down slowly next to him, Bob scooting onto the bench across from you and next to Natasha.

“So, y/n,” she smiled, leaning forward with intrigue clear in her eyes, “where you from?”

“Oh, I’m from Missouri,” you smiled at her.

“Missouri?” Mickey snorted, earning a ribbing from Javy. You chuckled, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Yeah, it’s not glamorous or anything, but it’s home,” you explained.

Reuben leaned around Bradley to look at you. “So you were in the same major as Bob, right? How did you even get into that?”

“Oh, I’ve always had a fascination with the sea, I guess. Felt like I might have been a mermaid in another life,” you joked, and the group chuckled, earning a look from Bob as you looked around uncertainly. “Did I say something funny?”

“Nah, sunshine,” Bradley grinned. “It’s just cute is all. Imagine you being a little mermaid.”

“In fairness, I was five,” you blushed, and he reached down to pinch your cheek gently.

“Don’t go gettin’ shy on us again,” he drawled. Javy rolled his eyes, taking a sip from the glass of beer in front of him.

“You’re almost putting Jake to shame right now,” he chuckled, causing Mickey and Reuben to both snort. Bob looked around the bar, brow furrowing.

“Speaking of, where is he?” He asked the rest of the group. Bradley let out a low chuckle, resting his arm behind you as Natasha rolled her eyes at the name.

“Mandy has been especially clingy, as of late,” Reuben frowned, peering towards the bar with a pointed look. Bob turned, frowning at what he saw. “Been dropping hints left and right for weeks. She barely leaves his side.”

“Well, yeah,” Bradley scoffed, taking a swig from his bottle. “I’m not surprised since it’s almost time for-”

Natasha cleared her throat, giving a pointed glance to you.

“Almost time for what?” you asked, looking around at the table. No one said a thing, giving small glares at Bradley who shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He cleared his throat and looked down at you, an easy smile spreading across his face.

“I just noticed that you don’t have a drink, sunshine,” he said. “Why don’t you come with me to the bar, and I’ll get you something?”

You gave one last look around the table before nodding slowly. “Yeah, okay. I could use a drink.”

You stood, Bradley close behind you, and you looked over at Bob. “You’re usual?”

“Please,” he said, giving you a tight lipped smile. You returned it softly, following Bradley up to the bar.

“Bradley,” hummed the older woman behind the bar, green eyes narrowing in on him as she saw you next to him.

“Penny,” he smirked, leaning against the counter. She walked over to the two of you, placing a hand on her hip as she frowned at him.

“What can I get you?” She asked him.

“Two beers and?” He turned to you, eyebrow raised.

“A jack and coke, please,” you smiled at her. She returned the gesture warmly, moving to make your drink.

“You best be careful around this one, honey,” she drawled, eyeing the man next to you. “He has a habit of goin’ around breaking hearts.”

“Penny, you wound me,” Bradley cried in mock hurt, gaping mouth quickly turning into another grin. He shot you a wink. “I would never do that to sunshine here.”

Penny snorted, handing him two beers and you your glass. “Right. You’re no better than Seresin over here.”

She jerked her head to the other side of the bar. You followed her gaze, seeing a blond man turn at the sound of his name. He glanced over to where Penny was looking at you and Bradley leaning up against the bar. He had an easy smirk on his face that rivaled Bradley’s, and when he turned his green eyes to you, you swear your heart stopped beating for a moment. His eyes were like sea glass, a frosty, almost moss colored green. It was like the world faded to black around you as you looked at him. You felt something that you could only describe as a tether snapping into place as his eyes bore into yours. If you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn his eyes started glowing as he continued to stare into the very depths of your soul.

“Y/n?”

Your eyes snapped to the side where Bradley was watching you worriedly. You shook the silly thoughts from your head. “I’m sorry, what?”

Bradley chuckled down at you, a hint of worry still tugging at his lips.

“I was just asking if you were ready to head back to the others?”

“Oh,” you trailed off, glancing back at the stranger across the bar. He was still staring at you, face unreadable. The brunette standing next to him looked very put out as he continued to ignore her.

“Jake!” She hissed at him, gripping his jaw and turning his face to look at her. “Are you listening to me?”

Jake looked down at her, a puzzled expression on his face. “Huh?”

“You are so dense sometimes,” she snapped, dropping her hand back to her side. The stranger, Jake, glanced back over at you, and the brunette followed his line of sight, scowling when she saw you. Bradley let out a low whistle before nudging you with his elbow playfully.

“Would sure hate to be him right about now,” he joked, an exaggerated grimace making you giggle. “Mandy is no joke when she’s pissed.”

“Jake!” Mandy shrieked. You chanced another look across the bar. Mandy looked like she was about to blow a fuse as she stared daggers between you and the man at her side. Said man was now frowning, eyes darting between you and Bradley. “I’m talking to you!”

“C’mon, sunshine,” Bradley said with a roll of his eyes at the couple across the bar. “If we stay any longer, I might lose my hearing.”

You followed him back to the table silently, still feeling the heavy weight of two green eyes on your back.

You slept with the window open that night, eager to feel the sea air on your skin as you slept. Your curtains billowed lightly as the moonlight poured into your room. You tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position to fall back asleep in. Your bed wasn’t uncomfortable, quite the opposite in fact, so you weren’t sure what had woken you up. You glanced at your phone, the numbers on the screen showing that it was far too early in the morning to still be awake. You huffed out a sigh, listening to the waves as they crashed against the shore below. That was when you heard it.

You weren’t sure what it was at first, it was so unlike anything you had ever experienced. It was a low hum that slowly turned into a lamentful cry amongst the breaking waves. You tossed your blankets back, quickly getting up and padding over to the window. The cry turned into what you could only describe as a song, not too dissimilar to one a whale would make, but this sounded almost…human? You peered out the window, heart racing as you continued to listen to the strange song. You felt a yearning unlike any other crescendo inside of you, calling to you from a distance almost like it wasn’t even your own. Your mind began to feel heavy, hazy with what, you weren’t sure. The song continued, calling to you, begging you to follow. Your eyes grew lidded, skin warm as you felt the call seep into your skin, drowning everything out but the inherent need to obey. You turned, taking a step towards your door.

A dog began to bark, causing you to jump and the song to stop. Shaking the cloudiness from your mind, you looked out the window once again. You caught sight of what you could only describe as a fish’s tail, silver scales gleaming in the moonlight, rising up before disappearing back beneath the waves.

[missidk1121]

A Cozy Bloom - Chapter 5

Pairing: Dino x Fem!Reader

Chapter tags: flirting, side character shenanigans, a flash of angst, dancing, forced proximity, a kiss (yes)

Content Warnings: Suggestive remarks, very brief argument

Word Count: 5.5K

Author's Note: Feedback, reblogs, and likes are appreciated as always, and if you're interested in being tagged when I post each chapter, feel free to comment, send a DM, or ask! ☕️ Hoo boy - this chapter was a doozy lol! In a good way! I feel especially proud of a certain scene in it, and I hope that you'll understand which one I'm talking about when you read it 🤞Felt pretty emotional writing this chapter and I think it shows!

Tags: @syluslittlecrows

🎧 Music playing at The Cozy Bloom

Series masterlist | Read on AO3 | Previous | Next

The rest of the ride went by in silence. Thankfully you left almost as soon as the two of you walked into the party, saying you wanted to go say hi to Wonwoo and his fiancée, but it still left Chan feeling, to put it bluntly, hot and bothered.

God help him, he could’ve sworn there was even a slight sway in your hips as you were walking away. Was that intentional or was he starting to see things?

A low whistle came from behind him.

“Boy, you’re down real bad.”

Chan turned around and saw Mingyu standing there, waggling his eyebrows with a knowing grin.

“Mingyu! What— What are you doing here?” he asked, shocked to see him there and also embarrassed he was even ogling you in the first place, let alone getting caught.

“Wonwoo’s my buddy. Has been for a long time now, since college,” he replied. “Y’know, I’m the one who introduced Y/N to Wonwoo, and it was him who recommended her for the job.”

“Huh,” said Chan. “She didn’t tell me about that. I didn’t know you knew her beyond just her coming to the café or being friends with me.”

“Jealous?” he teased.

“Tch. As if.”

“Anyway, what are you doing here?” Mingyu asked. “Did you come just to be her plus one?”

“Pretty much,” replied Chan. “She said Wonwoo invited me to come with her. I didn’t want to come at first, but then I heard Soonyoung and Seokmin, her friends from work, were bringing dates, so I figured I’d hang out and keep her company.”

“Oh, I know who they are.” Mingyu laughed. “They definitely do not have dates. Unless you mean each other, because I didn’t see them walk in with anyone else.”

Chan raised an eyebrow. “Really? Seungkwan told me they did.”

“Seungkwan?” Then Mingyu’s eyes widened in realization as he said, “Oh right! I saw him hanging out at their table a few days ago. Guess they’re friends now? He didn’t seem to like them at first.” He shrugged. “Those two were probably just messing with him.”

“Yeah, probably. They seem like the type,” said Chan.

“Well, I hope you two have a good time,” Mingyu said with a wink. “There’s going to be some slow dancing later, so be prepared.”

Mingyu turned and waved goodbye, heading to go and chat with someone else, leaving Chan to turn his thoughts back to you again. “Be prepared” — he’s pretty sure he wasn’t referring to the dancing part of it.

Maybe the dress was starting to take over your body, because under normal circumstances you would never do what you just did.

The moment you and Chan got out of the car, his eyes were on you again. From the parking garage all the way to the banquet hall, you felt them, lingering on you, not missing a single step you took. The way he looked at you, like he was seeing a whole new side of you that he couldn’t look away from — it made you feel butterflies. The whims of curiosity empowered you to do something, anything, to test the waters.

It was strange, really; how eager you were to have his eyes on you. You’ve never admitted this to anyone, not even to him — a secret you’ve kept to yourself all these years. And the longer you kept it buried in the back of your mind the more you felt embarrassed by it.

That moment where you wondered, during your short-lived infatuation with Joshua, when was the last time you were so attracted to someone? That someone? Chan.

It was surreal to think back on. You liked Chan. In college, during the early days of your friendship. But it was nothing earth-shattering like the typical best-friends-to-lovers “I’ve been in love with them this whole time” sort of scenario. Your crush on him was typical. Back then, to you he was just that nice, cute barista whom you happened to meet at the café three days a week before class.

You were both in college, uncertain of the future. Would you step out of your shell and get with that cute barista who may or may not have liked you in that way — you didn’t dare ask Chan if he ever had a crush on you in college; that would be awkward — or would you rather focus on more important things like your studies? Naturally, you had gravitated toward the latter, but in a way it was a little bit of both.

Over time, that cute barista — whose kindness extended even to you, a prickly engineer whose mind had only ever been tasked with solving problems until you met him; whose charms emanated from behind the counter and reflected through the mirrors of the dance studio, drawing you in with the smokey and inviting richness of his coffee and with every beat of his infinite repertoire of emotional expressions, like a moth to a flame — over time, he had opened you up to an endless world of possibilities, all while giving you a home to return to whenever that world became too overwhelming to chart.

Maybe this was why, from the moment you realized you couldn’t go a full twenty-four hours without thinking of him, you had abandoned the idea of your friendship turning into anything more. This thing between you had grown so comfortable, so warm that you didn’t want to leave. You wanted things to stay this way forever, thinking that there could be nothing better than what the two of you have.

But everything changes, a universal truth you seem to have forgotten. Maybe things have been shifting for a while between you and Chan, evolving naturally as the two of you grow and change.

Tonight you couldn’t resist the urge to test these changes, putting a slight sway in your hips as you walked away from him, knowing he was watching. You were far from being an expert in seduction, and you did it as subtly as you could, so subtly he may not have even noticed. But nonetheless the problem-solver in you needed to determine whether or not he was feeling what you were feeling. Although, maybe your spur-of-the-moment plan wasn’t very well thought out, because you had your back turned toward him, so you couldn’t see his reaction.

Regardless, you approached Wonwoo and Jangmi, the heiress of the Hwang Group which hosted tonight’s party, patiently waiting while many other guests greeted them. Some tried to offer Wonwoo the chance for a higher-paying job under the Hwang Group, which he respectfully declined, meanwhile others genuinely congratulated them.

When it was your turn, the pair greeted you with such smiles that you couldn’t help but think they’d look better in a much less grandiose setting.

“Y/N! I’m so glad you could make it! You look beautiful,” said Jangmi, giving you a hug.

“Thank you, so do you! Congratulations, you two,” you said as you hugged her back.

“Thank you,” Wonwoo said.

“Thank you so much,” Jangmi said. Then she pulled back, wiping her brow exaggeratedly as she sighed, “This whole thing has been so exhausting to put together.” Then she quietly added, “Though to be fair, I didn’t do much. Of course, it was my parents’ idea, so I left most of it to them.”

You shook your head. “I don’t know how you two do it. I was just thinking you both would be much better off having a smaller engagement party, or maybe even no party at all,” you laughed.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Wonwoo laughed.

“Yeah, I almost feel bad for you, getting stuck with in-laws like mine,” Jangmi looked at Wonwoo. “Keyword: almost.”

Wonwoo reached down to hold her hand, smiling at her. “Well, I’ve known you for so long now, I knew what I was signing up for. And I don’t mind it a bit, with you.”

You smiled at them. Curious, you asked, “Come to think of it, how long have you known each other? Clearly it’s been since before I started working with you.”

“Oh, definitely,” Wonwoo said. “She and I first met in grade school.”

Your eyes widened. “Wow. Childhood sweethearts. Wasn’t expecting that.”

Wonwoo chuckled. “Yeah, her parents weren’t either. We started dating in high school. They hated me, and several years back they even tried to set up an arranged marriage to get us to break up. But we stood our ground, and eventually they came to accept me. It’s still difficult sometimes; we obviously come from very different backgrounds. But things were bound to change.”

Jangmi nodded. “Yes. They dreamed that I’d marry some high-ranking man from one of our competitors, so that they could consolidate power and gain more wealth. Over time they saw how Wonwoo truly loved me and treated me well, and gradually they softened up, but we had to fight hard for them to realize that they were not in control, especially if we wanted to stay together.”

She frowned. “There were times when we weren’t sure if our love was worth fighting for, if we could handle all the political baggage that came with me.”

Wonwoo saw the melancholy that clouded her usual cheerful disposition as she said this, squeezing her hand harder as he continued, looking at her, “Every moment was worth it. If I didn’t fight for us, I would have regretted it for the rest of my life.”

Your chest tightened. You couldn’t imagine what it was like to be in their position, but you knew what it was like to want change, while also being afraid of the heartbreak that could come as a result of it.

“I’m sorry,” Jangmi said quietly.

Wonwoo, still holding her hand in his, wiped a stray tear from her cheek with the other. Your mind flashed back to that night with Chan, holding your face as he softly wiped your tears with his thumb.

“You don’t have to apologize,” you told her gently. 

Then Wonwoo took over, steering the conversation in another direction as he said, “Anyway, come to think of it: did you bring— Chan, was it?”

You nodded. “Yep, I left him for a minute to come and congratulate you both. I’m surprised you thought to ask about him earlier. I’ve mentioned him to you on occasion, but I didn’t expect you to invite him.”

“Oh, yeah. Well, Soonyoung told me the other day that you would be more likely to show up if I invited him,” he explained.

You gasped, mocking offense as you said, “How dare he. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Contrary to what he might think, I would like to clarify that Chan and I are not joined at the hip.”

He and Jangmi laughed.

“I’m not even kidding,” Wonwoo said. “He literally reminded me this morning to text you about it. Said you’d be all lonely without him because he was bringing a date tonight.”

“Wait, really?” You looked around the room to see if you could spot Soonyoung.

When you found him, he and Seokmin were each grabbing two glasses of wine from the table behind them, one for each hand. The guests around them stared as together they clinked all four glasses at the same time. But before Soonyoung could take a drink out of one, in came Jeonghan, suddenly swooping in and stealing it from his hand. You saw him mouth a simple “thanks” before he took a drink from it himself, leaving Soonyoung to gawk, glare, and pout all at once.

You looked back at Wonwoo.

“Which one is his date?”

Wonwoo sighed. “Hard to say.”

You made it to the corner where Chan was waiting. Chan blinked. You were walking normally. Great, so he was just delusional after all.

“Sorry I kept you waiting,” you said.

Chan shook his head. “No worries. Turns out Mingyu’s here; he came by and we chatted for a minute.” Then he tilted his head, curious, “Hey, by the way — do you know if Soonyoung and Seokmin brought anyone with them? Seungkwan told me they were going to, but Mingyu said he didn’t see them with anyone.”

You shrugged, throwing your arms up in exasperation as you said, “I don’t know anymore. One minute he’s living it up with Seokmin, the next Jeonghan is swooping in to steal his drink. Not to mention Seokmin claims to be best friends with Jun now. And now Seungkwan is friends with them? You should’ve seen the side-eye he was giving them a few days ago. This drama is too complex for my tastes — anything bigger than a love triangle and you’ve lost me.”

Chan laughed, but stopped as he realized, “Wait. Jun? He’s back?”

You giggled. “I’ll explain later,” you said. “But more importantly…”

Your eyes locked onto his. You began to slowly inch closer.

Immediately he felt breathless — because what are you doing to him? He instinctively took a single step back, but that was all as he felt your pinky brush against his, carefully lacing them together as you leaned in to whisper, your breath tickling his face.

“Why are you worried about someone else’s date? Shouldn’t you be focused on yours?”

You were so close. The smell of your perfume permeated his senses, short-circuiting his brain as he turned so red at the false innocence in your eyes he was sure you could see it. 

“I-I–” he stammered, but was suddenly interrupted by a voice over the speaker.

“Excuse me,” spoke an older gentleman. “I’m delighted to announce that the bride-to-be will now dance with her soon-to-be husband. And I’m also delighted to announce that all are welcome to join.”

Chan looked at you, and suddenly you were back to your usual self, looking at him all innocent and flustered. He wanted to laugh or smirk, like the tables were turned, but they weren’t.

He didn’t often dance with you, per say. He’s never taught you ballroom dancing or any other kind of partner dancing. But whenever the two of you danced the same choreography together, he would never run out of playful comments to use on you, to rile you up and tease you, all for the purpose of distracting you from your nerves.

You were an overthinker when it came to dancing, especially when you were just starting out. His education taught him ways to help beginners relax and avoid tightening up, but he learned that the best way to get you to loosen up was as simple as a lighthearted “Shall we dance?” followed up by a wink.

Tonight, though? He’s got nothing.

“Do… Do you want to dance with me?” he asked quietly.

You untangled your pinky from his and backed away slowly.

“Um, sure,” you said. “If you’re comfortable with it.”

“Are you?”

You shyly clasped your hands in front of yourself. “I mean, it’s just a simple slow dance, nothing complicated. And I really do want to, but uh, not gonna lie, I’m a little nervous to do it in front of so many people. Especially people I know.”

Chan furrowed his brow in thought. He had to find some way to help you relax. Without relying on any flirtatious remarks, of course, because he was already walking on eggshells around you.

The music started. You both watched as the main couple stepped into the center of the dance floor, holding hands as many others began to follow. As the room became less crowded along the ends of the room Chan caught sight of a door. It was all the way across the room in the opposite corner, so it was hard to tell where exactly it led to, but he immediately got an idea in his head.

He didn’t think twice before reaching down for your hand, holding it firmly as he pulled you along. Your eyes went wide, but you didn’t protest as the two of you walked briskly along the edge of the room. He kept guiding you, quickly passing by Joshua, Seokmin, probably some others you knew, until finally you reached the other side.

Chan turned the door knob and opened it — thank goodness it wasn’t locked or else that would’ve been awkward, huh? — then he pulled you in and shut the door behind you.

Deep down he had hoped to enter some kind of quiet, outdoor balcony under the stars, secluded from the rest of the world. Romantic, huh?

But then the chatter, the lights, all of it faded in an instant. The two of you were alone, in the dark. Everything was silent apart from the muffled music outside, including you. He couldn’t see your expression, but he could easily imagine the look of shock on your face, probably wondering why the hell he did that.

He began to fumble around, trying to feel for a light switch, moving around just a bit, backing up a little and—

“Ow! Fuck!”

“Oh my— Are you all right!?” he heard you call out.

He clutched the back of his head in pain, leaning forward—

“Ow!” you both blurted.

There was a ringing in his ears as he now clasped his forehead, feeling increasingly woozy and lightheaded. Then he only grew more disoriented when suddenly light flashed into his eyes, making him blink several times until finally he saw you before him, one hand on the light switch while the other gripped your forehead in the same way his did.

It was all so ridiculous. The two of you alone together, the hands on your throbbing heads separated by a paper-thin space, standing in a tiny supply closet with just a single dying light bulb flickering above.

Chan couldn’t help the series of chuckles that escaped him, each growing one after the other, his shoulders starting to shake as it flourished into a hearty laughter.

Your cheeks turned red, and you simply gaped at him. But in the end you joined him, bursting into laughter along with him.

He should have felt embarrassed, trying to whisk you away somewhere, away from prying eyes, just to dance with you, only to end up knocking you in the head, but with you he didn’t mind. It didn’t seem like you did either.

Once his laughter died down, he figured he may as well finish what he started.

Your laughter quieted, and you looked down at his outstretched hand.

“May I have this dance?” he asked, accompanying his cheesy words with a playful eyebrow wiggle.

You feigned a charmed look, giving a small chortle as you took his hand.

The music was over. He heard an eruption of applause, then a voice ringing in again to give some frivolous speech. It didn’t matter, because the instant you somehow pulled each other closer, your breaths mingling in this cramped closet that smelled like antiseptic, he knew he wasn’t going to let go of this moment.

His hands snaked around your waist, the smooth fabric of your dress under his fingertips  sparking a tender warmth between you, that warmth that was familiar to him, yet all the same had now kindled into something stronger. Through all the uncertainty and changes in his feelings, undeterred by the envy and fears that emerged from him as he felt your dynamic gradually shift, you were still just you, to him.

The two of you swayed together to the beat of nothing. The chatter outside settled in again, and the light bulb was blinking more frequently now, but Chan was pulled in by the steady, soft breaths you took as you eased into the rhythm of his body. When the lights were on, he tried to memorize the sight of you up close, the glimmer in your eyes as they gazed into his, your lips which tempted him relentlessly. And when they inevitably turned off again his focus would turn to the sensations of your touch on him, his mind overrun by a haze, feeling the heat of his body against yours, one hand gently resting on his shoulder while the other found its way to his, your fingers uniting with his like they were the only thing keeping him from getting lost in you.

The night was all at once as tranquil as your mornings together and as exciting as your afternoons and evenings with each other. He felt calm in your presence while also electrified by your touch. There was no technique in the way you two were moving, and that was okay. He was more than happy to simply hold you close, barely swinging from side to side in this tight space, in a daze as he lazily leaned his forehead against yours.

The light finally gave out.

“You’re a really good dancer, you know that?” he breathed.

“I learn from the best,” you returned.

Ladies and gentlemen, we got em ;)

Seokmin hit send.

Like two evil masterminds behind the greatest matchmaking scheme ever created, he and Soonyoung watched with a grin as you and Chan discreetly exited the supply closet, your cheeks flushed as you stood awkwardly in the corner, pretending to listen to the speech from the betrothed couple while sneakily stealing glances at each other.

In his very first message to the group chat, Jihoon replied: Why are you saying ladies and gentlemen? It’s all guys.

Seungkwan: What happened???

Soonyoung: they literall justv walked into the stoeage closet duringthe slow dance idk what happened but theyre hella sus rn

Jun: Are you drunk? XD

Seokmin: Yep

Seungkwan: So does that mean the plan worked??? :O

Seokmin: I think so?? They hurried off to the closet right when the slow dance was starting and seemed pretty sneaky as they were leaving. Wasn’t expecting them to even go there in the first place lmao

Soonyoung: fr theres literally a sign that syas storage

Soonyoung: wtf were they doin there anyway tho its just a closet

Jun: ... does someone want to explain?

Seungkwan: Don’t expect his drunk ass to understand

Seokmin: Just wanted to update you guys. I’ll let you know if anything else happens!!! :)

Jihoon: Please don’t.

Seokmin let out a hiccup. He was starting to get pretty tipsy himself.

“Heyyy, Seok,” Soonyoung slurred. “Wanna get in that closet with me? See what all the–” hiccup “– fuss is about?”

Scandalized, Seokmin raised his hand and slapped his face as hard as he could.

The slap echoed throughout the hall.

The two of you left pretty soon after that. After their speech, you both said goodbye to Wonwoo and Jangmi, who really were as kind and down-to-earth as you had told him. Then you got in the car and Chan started driving back to your place.

“The drama between Seokmin and Soonyoung must run deeper than we thought,” you speculated.

“Yeah. Jangmi was a real professional. She just kept going like nothing happened. I still haven’t met them personally, but if that happened at my engagement party, best believe I’d be side-eyeing them,” said Chan.

You sighed. “Those two. Utterly shameless, I tell you.”

Unlike your ride to the party, this one was more conversational. You told Chan about how Seokmin and Jun bought and helped pick your dress, updating him on Jun. You both talked about the whole Soonyoung and Seokmin bringing dates thing, coming to the conclusion that they were either lying or their dates straight up ditched them and they didn’t want to tell anyone. Neither of you thought any more on the matter.

You both danced around the subject of… the dance.

After the lights went out, you stayed like that for a little while longer until your dance slowed to a stop. He wished he could’ve seen your face;  he just stood there agonizing over what you were thinking until you quietly noted that the two of you should leave before someone comes in. Reluctantly, Chan then followed along in your overly cautious plan to exit as discreetly as possible.

You both placed your ears against the door for several minutes, trying to listen for when guests would be distracted, their attentions turned away from that door in the corner of the huge banquet hall. Boy, he didn’t put half as much thought into getting you in there as you did getting the both of you out.

Now that the two of you were alone again, he expected you to ask him about it. For the rest of the party, he had pictured in his head you asking him, “What was that all about?”, or more directly “That was not something best friends do.” In his worst case scenario, he even wondered if you might’ve regretted it.

You were never one to leave something unresolved. Whether it was problems the two of you have faced or something as mundane as an error in your code. He began to think that maybe to you this wasn’t a problem worth solving. It was just another quiet moment between friends.

Something settled in the pit of his stomach. He suddenly felt ashamed of himself. Why was he expecting you to resolve this? You didn’t owe him a response to his feelings, feelings he hasn’t even told you about. Instead he should be the one to explain why he suddenly pulled you into a tiny closet and initiated a deeply intimate — at least in his mind — slow dance. He couldn’t even muster the courage to simply tell you that the dance, this night, meant something to him, let alone admit that it was the most incredible thing he’s ever experienced.

He felt your hand on his shoulder.

“Chan?” you asked softly, noticing his despondency.

“Hm?”

“Is something wrong?”

“I was just thinking…,” Chan trailed off. “I was just thinking about how fun it would be to do that again.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie.

“The dance?” you clarified.

Chan nodded.

You tilted your head, but then gave him an understanding pat before pulling away.

“Is that why you look so sad?” You paused, laughing a little, “You know you can dance with me anytime, right? I think you’ll find the experience much more enjoyable outside of a cramped closet. Maybe, say, in my kitchen?”

He wanted to tell you that the closet actually kind of made the experience. Your suggestion, however, made his heart race. He couldn’t envision a more perfect dream than simply dancing with you in the kitchen, in the morning, at night, anywhere in between, whenever the two of you wanted.

“Either way, I give you permission to be my at-home, personal dance teacher and my dance partner in crime,” you said proudly.

“Dance partner in crime?” he asked with a laugh.

“Yep! We’ll dance the night away in all sorts of places where we shouldn’t.”

He grinned. “I like the sound of that.”

“In all seriousness though, you really have a way of calming my nerves,” you said earnestly. “I don’t know how you thought to drag me to some side room just to slow dance, but it worked.”

“I mean, to be honest I wasn’t really thinking,” he said. “You wanted to dance, I wanted to dance, neither of us wanted the crowd.”

A brief pause in your conversation, until you continued.

“Well, regardless, you really do have a knack for getting people into a sort of flow state with dancing,” you told him.

After you said that, he knew where you were going with this.

“I know we’ve talked about this before, but do you still think about teaching full-time?”

He hummed.

Chan was so grateful to have you as his biggest fan, whether it was his coffee or his side gig as a dance instructor. After college, while you were looking for your first software engineering job, he stayed at The Cozy Bloom, transitioning to full-time. You supported him in his decision to stay there.

You also supported him through the hardship he faced in his on-and-off attempts to make a living through dancing. He did countless auditions, some of which accepted him, but the busy and competitive world of performance didn’t suit him. He turned to something more administrative like dance production, but he didn’t like that either. He liked choreography but couldn’t commit to doing that full time either. In trying these other avenues, he was reminded that teaching was what he was truly passionate about, but it never paid well enough to leave the café.

In the end, it was easier to just stay at the café. It wasn’t the greatest paying job, of course, but he had grown so used to working there, and it was stable enough. Also, the café had become like a second home to him. He fostered his passion for coffee there, it was where his friends were, and it was where he met you.

At no point would he ever regret his time at the café, but he had his what-if moments, more than he would care to admit. He sometimes wondered what it would be like to be a dance instructor full-time, maybe even one day owning his own dance studio.

However, getting knocked down all over again, pursuing uncertainty; he wasn’t sure he could handle it, especially since he’s so comfortable right where he is.

“Yeah,” he said, “I think about it from time to time.”

“Do you think you’ll have any plans to give it a try again?” you asked, considerate as always.

He hummed again. “I mean, I’m pretty comfortable where I’m at right now.”

That was usually as far as this conversation went whenever it popped up between the two of you. This was the part where you nod, and then you both go back to your mutually understood silence.

But this time you kept going.

“Do you really want to stay there?”

He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“I just mean that if you really want to be a dance instructor, why not… why not give it a go again? Is it your dream to keep working at the café, or is that the thing that’s stopping you?”

What are you talking about?

“You know why.”

You were right there with him each time he failed, so why were you asking him this?

“So,” you said, “it’s the latter then?”

Chan sighed. He really wasn’t in the mood for your smart remarks.

“Look, I’m fine,” he said firmly, exasperated and tired. “I don’t need to go and try that again after it didn’t work out the first time. I’m fine where I am right now, okay? So just drop it.”

“... Fine.”

The tension in the air was thick as the car stopped. You didn’t say anything, and you didn’t need to in order for Chan to figure out that he really screwed up.

The walk up to your apartment was heavy and cumbersome, weighed down by tension and exhaustion. Even in the veil of darkness he could look over and see tears beginning to form in your eyes.

What the hell was wrong with him? You didn’t deserve to be snapped at like that, especially when you were just trying to help him. He felt ashamed that you bore the brunt of how dishonest he was being with himself.

When you reached down to unlock your door, he moved as quick as he could to stop you, gently grabbing your wrist.

“Wait—”

“I-I’m sorry!” you apologized, suddenly turning toward him as your tears finally spilled over.

He pulled his hand away.

“I’m sorry that I pushed you,” you uttered softly. “I just… I just want you to be happy.”

Chan watched as you wiped your eyes harshly, trying to make them stop. He felt awful, so sick, making you cry like this.

“No, I’m the one who should apologize. You had every right to call me out. I… I was lying. To myself and you,” he said quietly.

Hesitating, he tried to reach for your hands, wanting to hold them in his, but all of a sudden he felt your arms wrap around him, hugging him tightly. His surprise wore off quickly though, and he returned your hug, resting his head against your soft hair as he held you close once more tonight.

“I think you’re more aware than I am of what I want,” he whispered. “You were right. I do still hold onto those dreams I had years ago. I think I just got tired of chasing them.”

Then he rubbed soothing circles along your back, speaking softly into your hair even as a tear dropped down on it, “I’m sorry I’m such a coward.”

“No, you’re not. You’re the coolest person I know,” you laughed and sniffed, squeezing him tighter. “I’ll always support you, in whatever you decide to do with your life. If you get tired, it’s okay to stop and rest. And if you give up… I’ll just be grateful that you had something in your life that brought you joy.”

You both stayed like that, silently holding each other until your tears finally dried up.

You pulled away slightly to look at him, raising a finger in front of him as you added, “But one more thing: I’m sorry I was being kind of a smart ass.”

He chuckled.

You’re so adorable.

Another piece of his self-restraint chipped away, and he slowly moved his hands from your back to cup your cheeks, caressing them with his thumb before leaning in to place a soft kiss on your forehead.

“We should get some rest. Goodnight.”