#then they are probably lost and should look elsewhere

[togeppy]

behind (un)locked doors ;

bodhi durran x reader

garrick discovers that his younger sister has been in a secret relationship with bodhi and takes his duties as a protective older brother very seriously. ✧ : slight nsfw near the beginning but I don't write smut as of rn so it's super surface level and like 3 sentences lmao

The first rule of being in a secret relationship should probably be to make sure you always lock the door behind you. Usually, this would be your priority - double checking that no one was around to watch you slip into a secret alcove, only passing stolen kisses in the quiet of an empty classroom, and locking the damned door. Only, today Bodhi looked so ridiculously beautiful as he trained his squad that your priority was elsewhere; you desperately needed to get your lips on him, and he needed to get his hands on you - beelining your way to the solitude of his room was the only thing on either of your minds.

The only issue that both of you neglected to consider was that for marked ones, an unlocked door guaranteed uninvited visitors.

An unlocked door wouldn't have been a problem if your older brother, Garrick, hadn't been looking for you to let you know that he had some spare time to give you extra training. It wouldn't have caused any issues if he hadn't run into Emery in the hallway, who told your brother that he saw you and Bodhi head into the second year's room only moments before. It wouldn't have resulted in the situation you're currently in if the two of you hadn't had such an incredibly platonic relationship over the years, that it didn't even cross the older Tavis' mind to knock, because there was no way the two of you were up to anything that he couldn't just barge into.

The problem was that all of the above did happen, and you and your boyfriend now have to pay for the consequences of your own actions.

Within moments of returning to Bodhi's room, his shirt was discarded onto the floor and you found yourself in his lap as the two of you got comfortable atop his bed. His back leans against his headboard and your mouths are locked together in a passionate kiss, as if starved for one another. Your fingers are lost in his hair, gripping his soft curls as if it will keep you from floating away from pure bliss. His hands are gripping at your ass, fingers kneading at the soft skin, indicative of pure desire.

If humanly possible, you're drawing yourself even further into his embrace when the sound of the door clicking open surprises both you and your boyfriend, instantly causing you to pull apart. You roll off of him to lie on the vacant side of the bed and bury your face in the pillow as if hiding your face will make you unrecognizable to the unwanted guest, and Bodhi makes a show of being very interested in the ceiling.

"Hey, I've got like an hour free-" the all-too-familiar voice sounds as it enters the room, but quickly goes silent. You don't even have to look back at the man standing in the doorway to know what expression he wears: jaw ticking in annoyance after having snapped shut, mouth set in an unamused line, and broad arms crossed over his chest to make himself look larger and more intimidating than he already does.

You peel your face away from the pillow hesitantly to get a look at your brother, and sure enough, you've got it down to a tee. His eyes bore into you, fury apparent on his face as he takes in the sight before him.

"Explain. Now," he growls out, finally properly entering the room and shutting the door behind him. And locking it. As you very clearly should have done.

Bodhi squeezes his eyes shut for a few seconds before reopening them and finally looking at the angry man before him, dread apparent on his face. "We were just… studying."

Garrick's expression is unwavering as his eyes move from Bodhi's swollen lips down to his bare chest, and to both of your packs laying next to his own feet, very clearly shut and untouched with all of your books inside. "Try again."

You and Bodhi glance at each other, a moment of terrified eye contact before you grimace, hoping that he won't take his anger out too severely on either of you. "So… my dear big brother who I love very much…"

The man walks closer to the edge of the bed and if even possible, levers a more terrifying gaze on both of you. "Cut the crap. Is this a hookup or is this an ongoing thing that the two of you have neglected to mention to me?"

Bodhi scratches the back of his head, clearly puzzled as to which answer will result in a lesser punishment for both of you. On one hand, claiming it's a hookup would mean you could pretend nothing has happened before today, but it would end in Garrick beating the shit out of Bodhi for trying to sleep with his little sister. On the other hand, telling him the truth might mean your brother would hopefully see that you two are serious about each other, but would cause him to get angry about not being kept in the loop… and probably still end with Garrick beating the shit out of Bodhi.

You loose a sigh and wince, knowing you'll have to face the man's wrath regardless of your response. "The second one."

Garrick stands still for a moment, his expression unreadable as his gaze darts between the two of you. For a moment there's a tense silence as both you and your boyfriend wait to see his reaction.

"Does anyone else know? Does Xaden?"

You shake your head. "No."

"And how long has this," he gestures between the two of you, and you feel yourself turn a deep shade of red, "been going on?"

"Three months." Bodhi answers, speaking with extreme caution as if any word will cause your brother to pounce on him at any given second. Both of you are walking on eggshells, waiting for the mass destruction you know is coming.

The older boy tenses, raising an eyebrow at you. "Three whole fucking months? And when exactly were you planning on mentioning this to me?"

You scratch your head, thinking of the best answer to give him. You and Bodhi had discussed when would be the best time to mention your relationship to Garrick and Xaden, but you were both scared that it would change everything. With Bodhi being one of Garrick's best friends, and the four of you essentially being as close as family growing up, you were worried that if anything went south it would tear your group apart. So, you decided to keep it a secret until you were sure that you were committed to making the relationship work.

"Soon, we swear," Bodhi starts, unsure of how to best relay your plans to your brother, given that they weren't exactly concrete, "We just… wanted to be sure that this was going to work before making it public."

"And so even after three whole months, you still weren't sure enough to tell your own brother?" Garrick retorts, voice so levelled it sends a shiver down your spine, "Don't you think that might have been indication enough?"

Before you can stop them, the words are exiting your lips faster than you can force them back in. "Well, most people usually wait until after three months to announce pregnancies. I'd say three months is pretty standard to announce big relationship news."

The regret instantly floods your whole system as soon as you finish your sentence, and Garrick responds immediately, moving to your side of the bed, ready to swipe at you for your snark. You jump over Bodhi with a yelp, and he follows you, the two of you now standing with the bed in between you and the third-year. Your boyfriend stands slightly in front of you, ready to protect you from any hits Garrick might toss your way; while you know your brother won't hurt you too bad, you've definitely roughhoused in the past and know that despite his overprotectiveness, he isn't afraid of leaving you with a couple of bruises after a fight.

"Forget she said that," Bodhi tries to recover on your behalf, shooting you a mildly annoyed look from over his shoulder, "But we are sure about the two of us. Just… you wouldn't have wanted us to casually tell you over breakfast would you? We were just waiting for the right moment."

Garrick cracks his knuckles as he stares down the man in front of him. "You think that's going to change my opinion of this all? You're one of my best friends and I trusted you to keep an eye out for my little sister. She's the only damned person I care about keeping safe in this hellhole, and despite all the trust I had in you, you went and started sleeping with her behind my back?" Your brother points an accusatory finger at Bodhi, before moving it in your direction, "And you… do you want to even talk about how shitty it is to find out like this that my only family left has been keeping a secret this major from me?"

Both you and Bodhi are stunned to silence, and you feel your heart breaking in your chest despite the fear you felt only minutes ago. You knew that it was wrong of you both to keep this from him for so long, but you were so consumed by your own fear of ruining the group dynamics and the excitement of being in a secret relationship that you barely considered how finding out that you've been keeping this a secret would impact your brother.

"Gare, I'm so sorry," you whisper, your eyes sincerely apologetic as you lock eyes with your brother whose rage-filled expression now holds traces of betrayal.

"I'm sorry for keeping this a secret, but I'm not sorry that any of this happened," Bodhi speaks up boldly, causing Garrick to snap his gaze over to the boy and narrow his eyes, confused yet still angry, "I have been keeping an eye out for your sister, and us being in a relationship hasn't changed that. If anything, it's just made me even more protective over her. If you think I'm going to let anyone hurt her when I'm around, you're out of your damn mind."

The tension between them reminds you that despite the fact that you're Garrick's sibling, Bodhi is one of his best friends - he has a long-standing relationship with your brother that makes him unafraid to challenge him when others would cower in fear. Garrick moves around the bed obviously to give Bodhi a piece of his mind, but you step between the two men, placing a firm hand on Garrick's chest to stop him from advancing.

"Hear him out for a second," you beg, your voice barely above a whisper, "Please."

The third-year levels a look on you for a second, before crossing his arms once again over his chest, eyes boring into his friend, letting him know that he's allowing him to continue speaking, though he's not happy about it.

"I love your sister, and I am so damn serious about this relationship. I don't give a flying fuck if you approve of us or not, but I will never betray the trust that you put in me to keep her safe. If it's the last thing I do, I will make sure that anyone that threatens her safety will pay."

You can't hide the shocked look on your face - you and Bodhi had only been dating for three months, so you had never said that you loved each other, but you know without a doubt that you feel the same way about him despite the words going unspoken until now.

Garrick stares at the boy for a moment, deep in thought. It's as if you can physically see the gears turning in his head as he decides how to proceed. He finally lets out a sigh, and then his gaze turns to you.

"Do you love him?"

Without hesitation, you drop your arm from where you were holding your brother back, and nod. "Yes. I do."

"And he… treats you well?" the older boy asks, gaze skeptically jumping to his friend, seeing as he's the person that knows the most about the kinds of antics your boyfriend gets up to.

"Extremely well." You nod once again, a smile gracing your lips as you look back at Bodhi for a second. "Besides, wouldn't you rather me date your best friend than another guy in the quadrant? Imagine how much different this situation would be if you had walked in on me with Aetos instead."

Garrick and Bodhi both look appalled for a moment, causing you to laugh slightly, easing some of the tension in the room. A slight smile lights up Garrick's lips, before they fall back into a straight line.

"Durran, if you ever break her heart I will break your jaw, get Nolon to mend it, and then break it again before you can recover. Got it?" he threatens, icy gaze trained back on Bodhi.

The boy nods, a smile now on his face, relief taking over both of you as the situation you had dreaded for so long has finally been dealt with. "Got it, Tavis."

Garrick stands for a moment again, surveying both of you for a minute before slowly nodding and heading for the door. He unlocks it and moves to step through the doorframe, before looking back at you for a moment again. "Just to be clear, I never want to see PDA from either of you. Keep it behind locked doors from now on."

He walks out of the room, shutting the door behind him. You and Bodhi both breathe a sigh of relief, both of you mentally exhausted from the altercation. With an exhale, you flop down on the bed, your body going limp now that the air in the room no longer feels so heavy. Your boyfriend softly smiles at the sight, before a deeper cheeky smile lights up his face. He moves across the room to where your brother stood only seconds before, and presses the lock with a light 'click.'

Your head snaps up to see him approaching you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he leans over you.

"Now that that's out of the way, how about picking up where we left off?"

bonus:

At dinner the next day, you sit chatting with Imogen and Liam, advising the first-year boy on how to stay as far away from burnout as possible when dealing with Professor Carr's training. Liam lets out an exhausted sigh as he defeatedly takes a bite of the bread on his plate, and you and Imogen chuckle, knowing what he's had to endure.

Your eyes flicker up as a flurry of movement approaches your table, and your smile falls when you see your boyfriend limp over to you as he sits down, his lip busted open and caked with blood.

"What the hell happened to you?" Imogen questions, and Bodhi doesn't respond, eyes only moving to the two larger forms that come and join your group. Garrick and Xaden have matching mischievous smiles on both of their faces.

Your brother takes a bite of an apple as he sits down, his expression full of pure joy despite the bruises forming along his own jaw as he gives you a content smile. "Bodhi just needed a little ass kicking today. No biggie."

You roll your eyes, shooting the third-year an annoyed look, to which he only beams in response. "Was that really necessary?"

"Not really," he laughs, taking another bite of his food and leaning back in his seat, "But you bet I enjoyed it."

[hephaestuscrew]

When Minkowski hugs Eiffel in Ep31 Sécurité, she just grabs hold of him without making a sound, and the listener only knows about the hug because of the "oof" noise Eiffel makes in reacting to having "the wind knocked straight out of him", and the script directions say that Minkowski has "tears silently streaming down her face", and Eiffel is the one who directly acknowledges the hug verbally ("Don't apologise for hugging"). If all we had was Minkowski's side of the interaction, we probably wouldn't know that they hugged. 

When Eiffel hugs Minkowski in Ep54 The Watchtower, he first tells her "C'mere, give us a hug!", and he makes a happy sound of effort as he squeezes her, and Minkowski - under the influence of Pryce's restraining bolt - doesn't seem to have any reaction at all, which Eiffel doesn't appear to notice. Once again, if all we had was Minkowski's side of the interaction, we wouldn't know that they hugged. 

The question of 'in what ways is the hug made audible?' feels much more significant in audio than it would in any another medium, and I do think it reflects something about these characters and their willingness to be open with their affection. Minkowski "grabs him and hugs him" hard enough to knock the wind out of him, but she does so silently. In a somewhat similar but also very different moment of reunion, Eiffel "embraces her" and he's not quiet as he does it. There's something about how Communications Officer Eiffel is always the one who verbalises their physical affection, whether or not he's the one who initiated the hug. The closest Minkowski gets to verbally acknowledging a hug is through an apology; Eiffel is the one who makes the hugs real for the listener.

[storfulsten]

lol did I just lose 3 followers for mentioning a cool new song? ok

[meadowfics]

blood on your hands

kang dae ho x f!reader

in which you commit an act so unforgivable, yet reasonable

warnings: murder, death, nsfw!! 18+, minors please dni. smut with plot. oral (dh receiving). switch!daeho. switch!reader. praise. no PinV. VERY long chapter. dark chapter. original plot changes. y/n is used. reader is player 099. reader is the murderer. established relationship with dae-ho before the games. this takes place after the mingle games. the original character in this fic is player 123. I am not responsible for the content you choose to read after you hit, "keep reading"

4.6k words

the bathroom is a mess of bodies and tension.

the air thick with sweat, fear, disgusting body waste, and the sharp buzz of the overhead fluorescent lights. the guards stand at the entrance, their rifles slung carelessly over their shoulders, barely paying attention. 

they know no one is dumb enough to try anything here, not after the mingle game.

a game in which you barely survived too.  

anyways, you should be focusing on keeping jun-hee safe, making sure she gets in and out of here without trouble, but your mind keeps circling back to dae-ho.

your man. 

the love of your life. 

the marine’s voice is still fresh in your ears.  

"stay safe, no heroics."

all of the women were assigned to all go to the bathroom before lights out. you had smiled at him, something small, something just for him. 

"i’ll be okay," 

you had promised, squeezing his hand. 

"i'll stay with jun-hee the whole time."

he hadn't liked it. you could tell by the way his jaw clenched, by the flicker of hesitation in his eyes, like he wanted to argue but knew it would only make things harder. he is super protective about you, even before the games back at home.

in the end, he let you go, but not before tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering like he was trying to memorize you.  

"come back to me." 

you had nodded. you always would.  

the two of you had been together for years. your relationship wasn’t new, wasn’t fragile. it was something built, something strong, something that had withstood everything life had thrown at you before the games.  

this?  

this was different.  

this was a nightmare neither of you had ever prepared for.  

when you first locked eyes after red light, green light, it felt like the world had cracked open. neither of you had known the other would be here. 

neither of you had imagined, in your worst nightmares, that this was how you’d meet again after not seeing each other for days.  

after meeting the salesman, the both of you had a plan to pay off each other's debts. unaware that the other had the same exact plan too.

the first game, dae-ho had stormed across the bloodstained ground, past the trembling bodies of the survivors, past the bodies that would never move again, and grabbed you like you were slipping through his fingers.  

“why are you here?" 

his voice had been raw, panicked. 

"how…why…"  

"why are you here?" 

you had shot back, just as desperate, just as lost.  

you both had kept your struggles quieter than you should have, thinking you could handle them alone. thinking you didn’t have to drag each other down.  

it didn’t matter now.  

now, all that mattered was surviving. together.  

which was what led you here…standing in a sea of exhausted, wary women, pushing into the bathroom with jun-hee behind you and hyun-ju in front, keeping them close, like a shield.  

you aren’t the only one on edge. hyun-ju’s beautiful eyes are scanning, assessing. she turns around and catches the way your fingers twitch at your sides, the way your shoulders stay stiff.  

"you okay?" her voice is low, careful.  

you force a small nod. 

"just need to pee badly."  

it’s a lie.  

hyun-ju knows. she reads people too well…probably from whatever special forces training she’s had. 

she doesn’t press, just gives you a look before shifting her attention elsewhere.  

it’s not the bathroom that has you tense.  

it’s her.

player 123. 

she’s already ahead, pushing through the group like she owns the place along with her goon’s, loud and grating. she hasn’t stopped talking since mingle. hasn’t stopped running her mouth.  

"you see that one triangle guard earlier?" 

she crows to no one in particular, shoving her elbow into the woman next to her. 

"dude was practically asleep. i bet i could’ve grabbed his gun…boom, game over."  

the woman beside her gives a nervous laugh, stepping away. no one outside of her dickriding goons wants to be near her…she’s too reckless, too unpredictable.  

your fingers curl into a fist at your side.  

you don’t trust her. not after what happened in the six-legged penalathon.  

you and player 123 had almost killed each other. 

it had been an accident, but that didn’t matter. the two of you had made a mistake, a single misstep, a moment of hesitation that had nearly sent both of you crashing to your deaths. and she blamed you.

the audacity. 

when jun-hee came to your group, asking to join. you gave up your spot for the woman. dae-ho protested, but you told him that the pregnant woman needs to live, so being with men will help her. 

dae-ho intensely watched you as you approached 123 and her group of 4. player 123 said you could join, since she needed another woman who looked, “as fit as you.” 

however, that was a mistake.. since you both nearly tripped when you were running to the finish line.

since then, she hated you..

you weren’t exactly fond of her either.  

you keep jun-hee behind you as the crowd shifts into the cramped bathroom. it’s a tight space, bodies pressing in on all sides. no privacy, no safety.  

you aren’t the only one feeling it…jun-hee shifts uncomfortably, pressing a protective hand over her stomach. you glance at her, lowering your voice. 

"we’ll be quick. i won’t let anything happen."  

she nods, trusting.  

too trusting.  

you can feel player 123's presence, her laughter cutting through the thick air like a blade. she’s talking again, louder now, complaining about everything.

"this is ridiculous," she groans, kicking the bottom of a stall. 

"they’re treating us like animals. like we’re not even people."  

you bite back the urge to snap.  

because that’s the thing...she’s not wrong. 

that doesn’t make you hate her any less.  

hyun-ju watches you carefully from the side, tracking the way your body tenses, the way your fingers tap against your leg like you’re holding yourself back from something.  

"she’s not worth it," hyun-ju mutters under her breath.  

you exhale sharply, steadying yourself. 

"i know."  

that doesn’t stop you from keeping an eye on player 123. doesn’t stop the weight of her presence from pressing into you. 

because in a place like this, grudges can get you killed.

the guards stand lazily outside of the entrance, their rifles hanging at their sides, not paying attention. 

they don’t care about the many players inside one hot room. 

but you do.  

you keep jun-hee close, guiding her toward the stalls. she looks miserable, her hand resting over the curve of her belly, shoulders tight with exhaustion.  

"y/n, i just need to sit for a second."  

jun-hee pulls you towards the first stall.

she goes into one of the stalls, locking it behind her, and you let out a slow breath. your heart is still racing. not because of the guards, not because of the way the other women keep their eyes peeled for weakness…but because of player 123.

you hear her voice somewhere off to the side, barking out a laugh, too loud, too confident.  

"these stalls are disgusting, i swear to god. like what do they want us to do? piss outside?" 

she’s talking to no one in particular, but the woman next to her lets out a forced chuckle, clearly too nervous to ignore her.

“she is so fucking annoying!”  

you think.

your jaw clenches, fingers twitching at your side.  

you don’t trust her. you never have.  

so when jun-hee comes out of her stall, you decide to go in after her. not because you need to pee, but because you don’t want to have to go later, when things could be worse.  

“i’ll be quick," you murmur, passing by hyun-ju, who is by the sinks, watching everything like a hawk.  

"stay alert," she tells you.  

you nod, stepping inside the stall, locking it behind you.  

you sit, but your mind is elsewhere, lost in the horrors of the game.  

everything blurs together…the blood, the screams, the crack of bones snapping under pressure. you squeeze your eyes shut, pressing your palms into your thighs, trying to push the thoughts away, trying to remind yourself that you're still here. still breathing. still alive. 

BANG. 

your entire body jolts at the sudden impact against the stall door.  

"can you hurry the fuck up?"  

that voice. 

your blood runs cold.  

player 123.  

you don’t say anything, don’t react, hoping she’ll just move on, but then

she crawls under the stall.  

your breath catches in your throat, horror spiking through your veins as her hands and knees scrape against the filthy tile, her face appearing under the gap before she pulls herself inside, into your space.

"are you fucking stupid?" 

you snap, scrambling to pull your joggers up as you stagger to your feet.  

she just laughs.

loud, grating, obnoxious.  

"oh? oh, look at that." she grins, rocking back on her heels. 

"it’s the stupid bitch who almost got us killed!"  

your fists clench.  

"get the fuck out," 

you hiss, pushing past her to unlock the door.  

she follows you.  

you storm toward the sinks, your entire body thrumming with rage. she’s right on your heels, her voice sharp and mocking as she keeps egging you on.  

"what’s wrong, 099? mad i called you out? mad that you’re such a weak bitch who made it this far? "  

you ignore her, stepping toward the sinks where hyun-ju and jun-hee are.  

she doesn’t stop.  

"you think you’re some big hero? sticking with your little group like you’re different from the rest of us? newsflash, sweetheart…nobody here is safe."  

your hands shake. you grip the edge of the sink, trying to steady yourself.  

then she says it.  

"you know... i started to notice how close you and player 388 are. are you guys together?" 

123’s tone shifts, turning cruel, taunting. 

you stare at her through the mirror, hoping she shuts the fuck up. 

"wait, awee you guys are together! you know.. he’s such a charm. i cannot wait to steal him when you die during the next game!"  

that’s it.  

before you can even think, your body moves on its own.  

you turn, your fist flying through the air, and the impact is satisfying to your mind and knuckles. 

CRACK.

your knuckles collide with her face, sending her stumbling backward, her body hitting the ground with a hard thud.  

someone gasps. 

her goons rush forward, helping her up.  

hyun-ju steps toward you, eyes sharp, but before she can say anything—  

all hell breaks loose.

somewhere in the room, another fight erupts.

two randome women claw at each other, snarling like wild animals, hair being pulled, screams echoing off the tile.  

and then, like a chain reaction, everyone starts fighting.  

jun-hee stumbles back against the wall, hiding, pressing her hands over her stomach, panic flashing across her face. she knows she doesn’t stand a chance in this chaos.  

hyun-ju moves quickly, diving into the mess, trying to break up fights before they get worse.  

you…you don’t get the chance.  

because player 123 tackles you. 

you slam into the sink counter, pain exploding through your ribs.  

"you wanna fucking hit me, huh?" 

she seethes, grabbing onto your shirt. 

"you bitch! you think you’re tough?"  

you fight back, gripping her by the shoulders, trying to throw her off. but she’s strong, fueled by anger, by adrenaline.  

you both go crashing to the ground. 

she’s on top of you, fists flying.  

one punch.  

two.  

three.  

your face is bruised, bloodied.

your vision goes blurry, the taste of iron thick in your mouth as blood pools around your molar teeth.  

you gasp, hands scrambling for anything. 

you grip 123’s neck, trying to choke her, trying to stop her punches, but she just snarls, yanking at your hair, slamming your head back against the tile.  

someone—se-mi—tries to pull her off.  

but it’s not working.  

you’re losing. 

then  

something presses against your thigh.

your metal fork.

the one from earlier’s meal. the one you saved, just in case something like this happened  

your fingers close around it inside of your pocket.  

without thinking..without hesitating.. 

you move your right hand quickly and plunge it into her neck.  

she freezes.  

123’s brown eyes go wide.  

her hands, her fists, stop.

she limps, her body crumbling.  

however, that was not enough. 

something inside you snaps.  

you stab.

again.  

again.

again.

again.  

again.  

over and over and over until.. 

"STOP!"  

arms pull you back… hyun-ju.

your breath is ragged, your chest heaving.  

player 123 is dead. 

her body is still. 

her blood is everywhere. 

you don’t realize what you’ve done…not really…until hyun-ju drags you into the hallway, pushing you against the wall beside a guard.  

you’re hyperventilating. those pink lungs of yours cannot seem to catch a breath.

hyun-ju doesn’t yell at you. doesn’t scold you for murder since that would be hypocritical of her. she just takes the bloody fork from your hands, wipes at the blood on your face…though your 099 shirt is already soaked in red. 

"breathe," she orders.  

you can’t.  

"what did i do?"  

jun-hee stands nearby, eyes wide, face pale.  

she looks at you, then at the bodies inside.  

"nothing. since nothing will be mentioned to the others," 

she says quietly.  

you nod.  

silent. 

back to the dorms.. you can barely walk.  

your legs feel like they don’t belong to you, and the weight of what you just did claws at your chest, sinking deep into your ribs, making it hard to breathe.  

hyun-ju keeps her arm wrapped tightly around you, holding you up, making sure you don’t collapse under your own exhaustion. your shirt is soaked in blood..

some yours, most of it hers. 

player 123 is dead. 

you did that.  

you killed her.  

yet, in this moment, all you can focus on is putting one foot in front of the other as you and the remaining women shuffle back into the dorms.  

the second the doors open, the tension inside the dorm shifts.  

the men had heard everything.  

the screams.  

the fighting.  

the pounding of bodies slamming against the walls, the stalls, the sinks.  

the killings.  

it was a nightmare. 

and dae-ho almost ran after you.

he had almost lost his mind when the first screams from multiple women echoed through the halls, his entire body lurching forward, ready to run, to fight, to protect you, before jung bae grabbed him.  

"don’t." jung bae had hissed, forcing him to stay put. 

"we don’t know what’s happening yet."  

"it’s a fucking massacre, that’s what," young-il had muttered under his breath, his face pale as they all listened.  

dae-ho couldn’t stay calm.  

he was barely breathing, his hands clenching and unclenching, his mind running a thousand miles a minute.  

you had told him you’d be okay.  

you had promised.  

but then why did the screaming keep going?  

why did it sound like hell itself had broken loose in there?

at one point, it sounded like you were screaming.

it was, it was when you were repeatedly stabbing 123 over and over again.  

back in the dorms, dae-ho kept trying to reason with himself.  

you don’t start fights.  

you aren’t reckless.  

then he remembered the way you and 123 had argued after your group barely survived the six-legged penalathon…by four fucking seconds.  

he remembered 123 cursing you out, yelling about how you should’ve died instead of her almost falling.  

he remembered the way you just flicked her off, walking away.  

she was a loose cannon.

123 was like thanos and namgyu smashed into one woman.  

what if—  

the doors open.  

the women return.

and it’s worse than he imagined. 

the ones who come back look horrible. 

some are bloody. some have fresh bruises. some have torn shirts, missing shoes, swollen faces.

but not as many women return as there were when they left.  

dae-ho’s stomach drops.

he scans the group frantically. 

the marine’s heart hammers.  

his eyes land on hyun-ju and jun-hee first…both fine, exhausted but fine. 

then he sees you and his blood runs cold.  

his baby. his love.  

you look destroyed. your face is bloodied. your right eye is swollen.  there’s a deep cut above your eyebrow, blood trailing down your cheek, dripping onto your already soaked shirt.  

your lips are busted.  

your knuckles are bruised and your hands are shaking. 

"what the fuck happened?"  

dae-ho’s voice is sharp, broken.

hyun-ju doesn’t answer right away.  

instead, she tightens her grip on you, like she’s trying to shield you from his panic.

it’s too late.

he pushes forward, prying you out of hyun-ju’s arms, cradling you in his own. 

his hands hover over your face, your wounds, your bruises, like he doesn’t know where to touch, where to fix, where to start.  

"baby, oh my god, what did they do to you?" his voice breaks. 

he lifts you into his arms, carrying you straight to his bed, settling you down gently, as if you might shatter if he moves too fast.  

you don’t say anything.  

you can’t.  

because if you open your mouth, if you speak,you might just say what you did. 

so instead, you stare at the ceiling, your breath shallow, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you.  

hyun-ju and jun-hee exchange a look.  

they don’t tell him.  

they don’t say what really happened. 

that is your place, not theirs. 

they don’t tell him that you killed player 123 in a fit of survival and rage, stabbing her over and over again until her body was lifeless.

instead, hyun-ju lies. 

"a fight broke out. everyone was attacking each other."  

dae-ho’s jaw tightens, his eyes flicking over every bruise, every wound, every drop of blood. 

"and she was attacked?"  

jun-hee nods.  

"we barely made it out."  

dae-ho exhales sharply, his hands trembling as he tears a piece of his 388 shirt, dipping it into some cup of water (belonging to gi-hun) before gently pressing it against your wounds.  

"fuck, i should’ve been there," he mutters. 

"i should’ve protected you."  

you swallow.

dae-ho’s words make your chest ache in a way you can’t explain.  

he doesn’t know.

he doesn’t know what you did. 

he doesn’t know that you aren’t just hurt.  

you are a killer now. 

across the room, young-il/001/the frontman undercover watches you carefully as he sits beside a worried gi-hun and jung-bae. 

his eyes linger. 

he knows. 

he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t make a scene, but you catch the way he scans the room, the way he takes note of who came back..and who didn’t. 

123 isn’t here

he knows.  

you don’t look at dae-ho. 

you can’t  

because then you’d have to acknowledge it. and right now, you just want to pretend. 

pretend you didn’t just take a life.  

pretend you’re still you.  

the speaker comes on and the room freezes as everyone listens. suddenly, the names of the eliminated players in the women’s bathroom echo through the dorms.  

"player 037. eliminated."

"player 272. eliminated."  

"player 081. eliminated."  

"player 410. eliminated." 

"player 008. eliminated."  

"player 072. eliminated." 

and then..  

"player 123. eliminated." 

the second her number is called, the room shifts in your perspective. 

your stomach twists.

dae-ho’s eyes snap to you.  

then to hyun-ju.  

hyun-ju turns away.  

you tense.  

but he doesn’t know. 

not yet.  not yet.  

because lights out is coming.

during lights out, you wake up to dae-ho who is looking up at the ceiling. the ceiling where the gold pig sits with all of the money. the money from the dead players. 

“baby, is everything alright?” 

you ask lightly, putting your hand on his upper thigh as he looks over at you. 

the man smiles lightly, brushing a piece of hair off of your forehead as you close your eyes.. taking in his touch. 

“i should be asking you that.” 

dae-ho responds. 

of course you are still thinking about the murder you committed. however, you know that there will not be any legal consequences. the guards and this whole game is illegal itself!

however, you wonder how dae-ho will look at you. 

he used to talk to you about a murder that he committed while he was in the marines. the one thing that started his PTSD while serving. however, he was forced to do that.

you were not forced. 

well, that is debatable. 

since you were acting in self-defense. 

you brought your sore lips over dae-ho’s and started kissing him soflty, moving his hands to your ass while you sat your clothed core on top of his bulge. 

“y/n.” 

he groans through your lips. 

“hm.” 

you smirk. 

“is this alright? i don’t want you to feel uncom–” 

“we need a distraction, dae-ho.” 

two minutes later, your lips around around his fat tip. the marine’s head laid back against the hard wall, his pants pulled down to his ankles as you took his whole length inside of your throat. 

you were distracting yourself. your focus is fully on your lover’s scent, his big dick in your throat, your hands massaging his balls, and the way your lashes batted up at his eyes while you sucked his dick. 

this is the only way you can distract yourself from earlier. the murder. the murder you commited.

dae-ho wrapped your hair in a ponytail with his hands while you continued to do your work. you concentrated your tongue on a particular vein on his shaft while arching your back in the process. 

"fuck, you're sucking me off so perfectly."

your boyfriend of five years reaches over to massage your clothed ass, groaning softly as you deepthroated his cock. 

obviously, sucking his cock during lights out, where a player can easily see you, was not ideal for most people. however, you refused to pull dae-ho into a bathroom and do it. not where you killed 123. 

dae-ho’s cock twitched inside of your throat and you hummed, feeling his white load spill inside of your mouth and throat. 

the man puts a pillow over his head, so the pillow can block out his loud pornographic moan he spoke out. 

you were always so good at sucking his dick, oh how much he missed it while the games were happening. 

you helped your boyfriend pull his boxers and pants back on. the man flipped you over and kissed all over your neck, but you cringed. 

not because of dae-ho, not at all. you were so desperate for his tongue on your clit but somehow.. you started smelling the metallic blood from earlier. 

123’s blood. 

tears fill your eyes almost immediately.

when dae-ho realized that you were crying out of fear instead of pleasure, he stopped instantly. he pulled you into his arms as you stained his shirt with your tears. 

you started to hyperventilate again. 

dae-ho keeps you in his arms, but pulls your head off of his chest in order to help yourself breathe.

“baby, please breathe.” 

dae-ho panics, nearly having tears in his eyes too. 

“dae-ho, i-i-ca-can’t. i’m ah-a monster.” 

you coughed out. 

dae-ho frowns. 

“no you’re not!” 

he mumbles confidently, truthfully. 

“you’re my angel.” 

you cry more, shaking your head with a frown. 

“angels don't kill people, dae-ho.” 

you sob, wiping your nose with your blood stained jacket. 

“what?” 

dae-ho’s eyes widened. 

“sh-sh-she was so close to killing me i-in there!”

you start shaking, dae-ho holds your hands as you try to recall the memory. 

your lips turn pale. dae-ho holds the back of your head with his large hands as more tears fall down your face. 

“dae-ho, i killed 123!!! the fork i-i ha-had when we ate the bibimbap to-together! she almost beat me to death so i stabbed her.” 

your hands started shaking to the point where dae-ho had to hold them. 

not only was the memory so traumatic, but you were started to think that dae-ho would leave you. 

scared that he would not want someone who is a murderer.

dae-ho’s eyes are widened, he cannot say anything. 

“puh-pl-please say something! i swear it was in self-defense!! she did this to me-” 

you pointed at the bruises and cuts on your face.

“i-i couldn’t breathe before i felt the fork in my pocket. i had to, i am so sorry! please forgive me for being a monster!” 

you forced your hands out of dae-ho’s and covered your face, ashamed of yourself. 

dae-ho is everything good in this world. even here, in this twisted, merciless game, he treats you like you’re made of glass…like you’re still the same person he fell in love with before all of this. 

you’re scared.. now you believe that he knows that the girl he’s holding, the girl he’s protecting so fiercely, is not the girl he fell in love with. 

you’re a monster. a murderer. 

the blood on your hands isn’t just yours…it’s 123s.

dae-ho holds you again.. and doesn’t let go of you. not even for a second.  

the marine’s arms stay firmly around you, grounding you as your entire body shakes, as your chest heaves, struggling to pull in air. your lungs burn, your throat closes, and your vision blurs with the overwhelming flood of emotions crashing down on you all at once. 

you can’t stop crying.  

you can’t stop the guilt, the fear, the shame from clawing at your insides, making you feel like you’re being ripped apart from the inside out.  

"i'm a monster," 

you choke out between uneven breaths. 

"i don’t deserve you, dae-ho. i don’t.."  

"stop."  

dae-ho’s voice is gentle, but firm. the man’s hands cup your face, thumbs wiping away the hot tears streaming down your cheeks, even though they just keep coming.  

"baby, listen to me. i understand." 

dae-ho’s voice is steady, warm, full of something so deep and unwavering.. it only makes you cry harder.

"i know. it was self-defense."  

you shake your head, gripping onto his wrists like he’s the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely in this hellhole.

"but i still did it," you whisper, voice breaking. 

"i still killed her."  

dae-ho doesn’t flinch.  

his grip doesn’t loosen.  

his expression doesn’t change.  

"and it would have been you killed if you hadn’t."  

his words hit hard, slicing through the noise in your head.  

you inhale sharply, shuddering. 

"this game… it’s bringing out the worst in all of us." his voice softens, his forehead pressing against yours.

"this isn’t your fault, baby. you were protecting yourself."  

you sob, shaking your head violently.

"no–"  

"yes." he pulls back just enough to look at you, really look at you, his dark eyes full of nothing but love.

"you’re not a monster. you’re still my girl… my angel."  

dae-ho’svoice breaks on those last words, but he keeps going.  

he wants to cry with you.

"when we get out of here, i’ll get us help." he promises.

 "therapy, whatever you need, i’ll be right there with you. we’ll get through this. together."  

your face crumples, your hands tightening in the fabric of his 388 shirt. 

"how can you still love me after this?"  

dae-ho lets out a soft, shaky breath, like he can’t believe you’d even ask that.  

"how can i not? you’re the love of my life. bad or good."  

your chest shakes as another sob wracks through you, but this time, it’s different.

it’s not just grief, it’s relief.  

because he’s not leaving. 

he’s not disgusted.  

he’s not giving up on you. 

"i’m not mad, baby. i’m not mad at you." his lips press against your temple, lingering. 

"and we’re okay. i’m still with you. i’m still going to protect you."  

"we’re okay?" you whisper, almost afraid to believe it.  

he nods, pulling you closer, holding you like he never wants to let go.  

"we’re okay."

masterlist

[justarkive]

THE JEONS | 04

04: Protective

summary: a collection of chaotic family drabbles. thats it.

contents: family!au, non.idol jungkook, girl!dad jk, fluff, angst, sensitive topics sometimes!

• chapter contents: ANGST, sensitive content! TW!! you have been warned!! weird guy making disgusting comments towards oc and hana, they fight, jungkook notices just in time, fight!! not graphically described but its there.

• a/n: protective kook :,(

* taglist: @jenniebyrubies @lovingkoalaface @iamstilljk @elinaki92 @rpwprpwprpwprw @mafersame cmnt to be added)

masterlist, series masterlist

The train was nearly empty.

You sat with Hana cradled in your arms, her tiny body warm and relaxed against your chest as she slept. It was late, and the train’s usual suffocating crowds had thinned to only a handful of passengers, most of them too caught up in their own worlds to spare you a glance.

Jungkook sat across from you, his gaze fixed on the darkened window beside him, arms folded over his chest, still too proud to speak to you after your earlier fight.

It had been over something stupid, as always. A petty disagreement that had spiraled into irritation, leaving the both of you fuming in silence. Neither of you had brought it up again since boarding the train, but the air between you was still tense.

To anyone else, you probably looked like nothing more than strangers—a man and a woman with a baby, but not a family.

You sighed softly, shifting slightly in your seat. The train was warm, the heat stifling even in your light dress, and you gently adjusted Hana’s position in your arms. She was dressed in an airy little outfit, nothing too heavy, but she still let out a quiet sigh against your skin, her tiny fingers curled into your dress.

The train slowed to a stop. The doors slid open with a chime.

And then—a man boarded.

The scent of alcohol hit you instantly, sharp and overwhelming. He stumbled slightly as he stepped onto the train, lazily scanning the empty seats before settling far too close to you.

Your breath hitched.

You tried not to react, keeping your movements slow, careful. There was nowhere to move, no easy way to shift away from him without making it obvious. Your fingers curled a little tighter around Hana, holding her closer.

Jungkook still wasn’t looking.

The man didn’t say anything at first. You could feel his eyes on you, lingering longer than they should have, but you forced yourself to keep your gaze fixed elsewhere, praying he would lose interest.

And then—out of the corner of your eye—you saw him pull out his phone.

You froze.

It was deliberate, the way he angled the screen. Subtle enough that to anyone else, it might have seemed innocent. But you could see the way his camera lens pointed toward you and Hana, could hear the faint sound of a shutter clicking even beneath the train’s low hum.

Your heart pounded.

You glanced toward Jungkook, silently willing him to turn his head—to do something, anything—but he was still staring out the window, lost in his own thoughts, oblivious.

Then, the man shifted.

You stiffened as his eyes flickered downward, toward Hana. A slow, leering look. Your stomach twisted, an awful, crawling feeling settling over your skin. And then—

You realized.

The way you were holding Hana had caused her dress to ride up slightly. Just enough to reveal the soft fabric of the little shorts you’d put on her underneath.

You feel sick.

You swallowed hard, suddenly so, so grateful you had put them on her tonight. But that didn’t stop the suffocating dread as you felt the man inching closer, a slow, lazy movement like he thought you wouldn’t notice.

Before he could get any further, before he could even breathe another second in your direction—

Jungkook moved.

In an instant, he was in front of the man, his hand gripping the front of his collar, yanking him up with a force that sent his phone clattering to the floor.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

The entire train seemed to hold its breath.

The man, despite being caught, barely reacted. His gaze was unfocused, hazy from alcohol, but there was still something disturbingly smug in the way he smirked.

“Just admiring the view, man.”

The next moment happened so fast you barely registered it.

Jungkook’s fist connected with the man’s face, sending him stumbling back against the seat. The impact was sickening, loud in the near-empty train, and you barely had time to react before Jungkook was swinging again, rage simmering off of him in waves.

“Fucking say that again.”

You scrambled back, pressing Hana protectively against your chest as she startled awake, letting out a sharp, terrified wail. Your heart was pounding, panic flooding through you as Jungkook barely gave the man a chance to recover before hitting him again.

“Jungkook!” Your voice was frantic, desperate, but he wasn’t hearing you.

The man was too drunk to put up much of a fight, but it didn’t matter—Jungkook was relentless, his knuckles red and split as he grabbed the man by the collar again, shoving him against the train doors with a force that made the entire car shudder.

People were watching now. Someone was shouting.

You barely registered it before hands were on Jungkook, pulling him away, dragging the man off the train as the doors opened at the next stop.

Jungkook barely resisted. His chest heaved, his hands trembling with leftover rage, his entire body still coiled tight as if he was ready to lunge again.

And then—he turned, grabbed your hand, and stormed off the train with you.

“H-Hey!” You stumbled after him, struggling to keep up while still cradling Hana, who was crying against you. “Jungkook—this isn’t even our stop—”

“I don’t give a fuck,” he snapped, his grip on your hand firm, unyielding. “We’re getting a fucking taxi.”

You barely made it out of the station before he pulled out his phone, already calling for a cab. His other hand ran through his hair, his jaw clenched so tightly you thought it might snap.

You stood beside him in silence, gently bouncing Hana to soothe her, the tension still suffocating between you.

When the taxi finally arrived, the ride was dead quiet.

Jungkook sat beside you, his knuckles still raw, his hands resting tensely on his knees. The only sound was Hana’s quiet sniffles, her little fingers curled around the fabric of your dress.

You exhaled, breaking the silence first. “…Are your hands okay?”

Jungkook didn’t answer right away.

He flexed his fingers slightly, finally looking down at them, as if only now realizing how much they hurt. Then, after a long pause—

“I feel fucking sick.”

You turned your head, watching him carefully. His brows were furrowed, his lips pressed together tightly.

“I should’ve noticed sooner,” he muttered, his voice low, heavy with guilt. “I was sitting right there, and I didn’t—” He exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. “That sick fuck—”

You reached for his hand, squeezing gently. “You did notice,” you murmured. “You protected us. You always do.”

He swallowed hard, his grip tightening over yours.

A beat of silence.

“…Let’s never fight again. I’m sorry.”

You exhaled a quiet, exhausted laugh, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Let’s not.”

[moonchild9350]

Here for You

summary: minho is your rock in this turbulent thing we call life.

pairing: bf!Minho x gn!reader

genre: hurt, angst, comfort

wc: 1.3k

warnings: none other than it's a tough day for reader

notes: just a comfort fic that was needed.

please do not copy, translate, edit, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2025)

general masterlist

The door slams and you let out a breath as you drop your bags on the floor. You toss your keys on the side table and kick off your shoes as three little furry friends rush to greet you.

They rub against your legs and purr, happy that you’re home, their soft fur comforting. The tv is blasting in the living room and your boyfriend’s laughter rings out, high and shrill.

The noise hurts your ears and you let out a huff, as you already have a headache after the day you’ve just had. You drag your feet to the kitchen, the cats hot on your tail, probably thinking they’re going to get a treat.

“Hey baby,” Minho says, not even bothering to turn around to look at you.

You mumble an explicative under your breath as you stare at the stove. The stove that is empty, where food should be cooking or waiting. The dishes are piled high in the sink, neither one of you making an effort to clean them after getting lost in your week.

Heat rises to your face and you take a few deep breathes to calm yourself, not wanting to let your irritation from your long day get to you. Instead you leave the room and make your way to the living room where Minho is lounging, his feet propped up on the coffee table and arms behind his head.

That anger that you pushed down bubbles up again at his comfort, at his nonchalance in helping out around the house while you were at work. You find yourself balling up your fist at your side and looking at him before huffing, “glad to see you had a great day.”

You say it with venom, hoping he’ll get the hint, but instead he smiles and starts chatting about his day and the things he did.

“I did baby! Jisung came over and we watched a few episodes of that new anime we started the other day and…”

On and on he yapped, gushing about how great a day he had. You glared at Minho and saw red as the anger became worse with each passing moment. You could feel yourself slowly shutting down, your brain starting to become foggy, your fingertips tingling.

Your heart raced and beads of sweat formed across your brow. Sooni wrapped himself around your legs, purring and looking up at you expectantly and meowed. Looking down, you took in the furry cat and focusing on how his soft fur felt on your legs, you let out a breath, slightly letting off some steam that had been steadily and dangerously building.

“I’m gonna feed the cats,” you mumbled and left to go back to the kitchen, Minho pausing mid sentence as he watched you shuffle out of the room.

He realizes you have that look about you, the one that you try to hide and lock away deep inside. Minho swallows thickly and debates whether he should follow you, but decides not to as too much attention when you feel like this can backfire. He settles back in the couch and turns his attention to the tv, but keeps the volume on low so he can listen for you.

Once in the kitchen, you begin the routine of preparing Sooni, Tooni, and Dori’s dinner, grabbing three cans of cat food and the special spoon reserved just for them. The little ones mewl pitifully, pacing back and forth as if they are starving and haven’t been fed in ages. Dori bumps his head against your leg and lets out a merp as if he’s saying hurry up.

You grab the supplements that are added to the food, setting them down next to the cans of cat food. Lastly, you reach up in the cabinet to grab the first cat bowl, eyeing the little fish that line the edges.

Your fingers reach out, your movements slowed and your hands trembling. They make contact with the ceramic and grasp the lip of the bowl and you tug it down. However, in transit your grip loosens and the bowl falls, bouncing off the counter and falling to the floor to shatter into a hundred pieces.

The cats scatter at the sound, running into the corner of the room to hide, their beady eyes searching for the source of the sound. You stand frozen in place, your body shaking, your breath coming out in hurried pants. You stare at the mess, eyeing the pieces of glass that litter the floor around your feet.

You feel something wet drip down your face, one at first and then multiple, leaving wet patterns on your cheeks. You don’t hear Minho who as rushed to the scene at the sound of the bowl breaking.

You barely notice as he quickly disposes of the glass shards. You don’t hear his voice that’s coaxing out your name, softly, gently, trying to pull you back.

It’s too much. It’s too much.

Three little words that run through your mind, over and over as you focus on the floor. Minho’s hands grasp yours and gently leads you to the couch where he pulls you down, cradling your trembling body to his side. He pulls a blanket around you, the fuzzy one that you like that makes you feel like you are in a cocoon.

He holds you to his chest tightly, resting his cheek on top of your head, a frown on his face. He needs to ground you, to bring you back to him and he pulls you even closer.

Sitting in silence, he lets you cry, lets you whimper and clutch at his hoodie. He feels the tears soaking the fabric, feels the overwhelming sorrow that plagues your body after the tough day you’ve had.

Time passes and with that your breathing calms, the tears slowing down until they completely stop and your face dries. You continue to clutch onto your boyfriend’s hoodie, breathing in the scent of him, a mixture of citrus and just... him. It comforts you, calms you, brings you back to the here and now.

Once you feel more steady, you break the silence, your voice slightly shaky. “I’m sorry. It’s one of those days…I just…just snapped.”

Minho hums acknowledging your statement. “I’m sorry too baby. I should have helped out more today.”

You attempted to shake your head. It’s not his fault, not at all. You both are busy and work crazy hours, both of you tired and barely functioning after a long day. It’s just dishes, just dinner, not the end of the world. But after the day you’ve had and the thoughts creeping up, you felt overstimulated, exhausted, irritated.

And you took it out on the one person who is always there for you. Who loves you unconditionally.

“No, Min. You did nothing wrong.” You whisper and nuzzle your head deeper into his chest.

You both sit in silence some more until Minho begins to pepper soft kisses on your head. His gentleness brings you to tears again, thankful for such an amazing boyfriend.

“I love you y/n and I will be here for you no matter what, no matter how bad it gets. You mean everything to me. Okay? You're amazing and tough and I just fall in love with you more when I see you bounce back, not letting anything keep you down.”

You lean back to stare at Minho, observe the love that is seated deep in his eyes as he cradles your cheek gently, wiping away the tears that continue to fall.

“Really?" you pause for a moment and then say "okay." You attempt to smile, letting out a little huff in the process.

Minho smiles back and pecks his lips against yours. “Now how about we order take out…but only after feeding these gremlins,” he says with a frown as Sooni, Tooni, and Dori let out their fury at a delayed dinner.

You let out a giggle and try to get up. “I think that’s a great idea.”

You truly do love this little family you both have created and the comfort it brings to your life.

divider by @strangergraphics

taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground @katsukis1wife @my-neurodivergent-world @hanniebaeee @hwanghyunjinismybae @channiesrightasscheek @skzdreamer13 @lezleeferguson-120

[stvllioner]

hi sweetie my head is currently empty save for a sweet and understanding reader choking on dabi‘s bad boi d3ck and he rewards them for it afterwards and I wanted to request if you feel like writing something like this but if you don’t that’s totally ok! thank you for reading this ask anyways (^–^)

      dabi/touya todoroki x [fem]pro-hero!reader

warning(s): sexual content, oral (f → m), finger sucking, choking, fucking on camera aka sex tape, dacryphilia, mentions of masturbation, petting, semi-public sex, established relationship.

key: e/c = eye color.

read more: masterpost | adult masterlist | drabble list

a/n: it's a tame... i keep falling out of writing lol. im not sure if it does a good job on the blowjob aspect but it sort of does?? yeah? yeah. thank you, anon!

(E/C) irises look so heartbreakingly iridescent under Dabi's unrelenting back camera flash.

there was not a single thought behind your eyes as it was that much evident after allowing yourself to be so indecent in such a crude place.

you should be patrolling the block, but instead you find yourself in a cramped car, slurping down a villain's cock like there was no tomorrow. safe for him, he still had his clothes in tact, but he couldn't say the same for you. you had told him your shift was almost over so it didn't matter and you'll make something up to make up for the ruined costume later. Dabi would call himself shocked, but also proud at how well he had taught you to lie so naturally and well.

lying in devotion to him as you gazed hopefully at him, mouth so perfectly around his cock, and saliva at the corners of your mouth. selfishly, he asks for you to brace yourself as he pushes your head further onto his length. with quick thrusts as he could manage in the small space, Dabi could care less on how obvious it was that maybe there were people in here doing things they shouldn't be doing. only crooked people seemed to be around this hour anyway.

his cock slides itself easily between your lips, your saliva that forms at the corner of your lips and your combined humming to avoid the gag-reflex helps with him getting closer and closer to his release. he groans in distaste when he feels the familiar feeling build in his stomach and pushes your head away from his length. your hands that wrap around the rest of him that couldn't quite reach your mouth to stroke him, your expression now confused more than anything.

the camera probably lost a bit of focus then, but you were still clearly in view; he always made sure that you were always the main focus.

you ask him what's wrong but is silenced when he seemingly cups your check, lovingly, and strokes your cheek with his thumb. your pretty eyelashes blink up at him before you move your head to the side, enough so he can slip his thumb in your mouth and you happily suck on that too. he curses under his breath and withdraws his hand from you, instructing you to fully pull off your uniform. the hero costume that was specifically tailored for, you, and you only. you comply without any questions, careful to not hit him as you undress.

"play with yourself."

and you do just that.

but instead of just using your own hands, you take two of his fingers into your mouth and lubricate them with your tongue; the wet muscle in your mouth playing with his digits. he growls as you toy with him, instead forcing hand further into your mouth causing you to gag over them. he promptly pulls them out as he lets you catch your breath and turns you over to your hands and knees. phone be damned, he needed to fuck you now.

Dabi tosses the device elsewhere in the car, the object releasing a soft 'thump' as it signifies its landing on the floor. he doesn't even warn you as he begins to pet your already sopping folds, the amount of slick never ending. he circles your opening, teasingly, before he sinks them in, two at once. you softly hiss as he works his fingers into you. you were more than ready to receive him but your tightness was delaying it. as he manages to slip in another finger your jaw drops and your hips press into his fingers. trying your hardest to not moan at loud, you cover your own mouth and take his preparation.

you whimper out his name to warn him of your climax and groan outwardly when he withdraws promptly. he tsk's at your eagerness and uses your slick to wet his tip. through with teasing, he aligns himself to your hole and rubs his tip against your opening. he promptly drops a glob of spit to help with lubrication, not that you really needed it, but you know he likes it messy. it's almost humiliating how elated you shiver once he sinks his cock into your awaiting cunny, legs spreading and hands finding anything to brace yourself.

without his usual carefulness and his on-edge mood for the night, he sets an aggressive and fast pace, hands gripping you tight and nails digging into your skin. you blissfully whimper at the pain that shoots through your body, not sure to say anything about it as the sick part of you loved it anyways. unfortunately for the limited room in the car, it didn't allow much space to work with and it was frustrating Dabi deeply.

"turn around for me, doll."

it was a command more than it was a question. which you didn't mind, either. with carefulness, you followed his directions and turned around for him, assuming the position and holding in your breath as you ready yourself for his pace. his reinsertion was gratifying to say the least. with a swift motion and his hands spreading your cheeks to observe both of your holes, the embarrassment that you would've felt in this moment died long ago. "look at this ass," he teasingly calls out as he delivers a playful smack to your bum, watching as your cheeks bounce on his dick. now he wished he hadn't tossed his phone to the front to savor this moment for later.

your pager starts buzzing with work temptations, the sound of the device nearly going unnoticed by you. in a lust-filled haze, you weakly lift your head up from within the confines of your arms and try to support yourself. you babble, something about needing to look at it—your pleas going unnoticed and Dabi's eyes narrowing at your anxiety. the male sharpens his thrusts deeper into you (how it was still possible, you weren't sure) to command your full attention once again. selfishly, the rocking of his cock graciously stroking your walls without delay in his rhythm ultimately breaks your resolve. with familiar vigor, one of his hands snake forward to play with the bundle of nerves to help further you along, his actions giving you no choice but to finish on his cock.

if only he hadn't tossed his phone elsewhere, he could have captured this moment to sit along with all his favorites with your name on it.

all rights reserved © do NOT steal, alter, translate or copy this work.

[hrefna-the-raven]

Promise

Horror masterlist - Masterlist - Misc. masterlist

RZ Michael Myers x female nurse reader

Words: 1296

Warnings: strangely none (considering that it's a Myers oneshot^^)

Notes: this has been sitting in my drafts for 3 months now and I still feel weird for posting it, I personnally don't like this oneshot but maybe someone out there might enjoy it, so here you go 😊

Summary: you seem to be the only person who's able to communicate with Michael

Reader: short female reader in mind, but no specific descriptions are used

"These eyes will deceive you. They will destroy you. They will take from you your innocence, your pride, and eventually your soul. These eyes do not see what you and I see. Behind these eyes one finds only blackness, the absence of light."

Those were Doctor Loomis' words about the most feared patient within Smith's Grove Sanitarium and everyone agreed...everyone except you. That's why you found yourself in the middle of the observation room, with Michael towering over you. You were waiting for the doctor to arrive, alone except for the guards outside who kept a vigilant watch on the two of you through the door's window. You should have been afraid of him but you weren't as you were probably the only human being within these walls who saw something else within Michael's eyes, a bittersweet sadness you were all too familiar with. You gestured for him to sit down, he hesitated for a moment before complying. Even while sitting, he still loomed over you, so you approached him cautiously, careful not to make any sudden movements.

"May I touch it?", you asked in a soft voice, settling yourself in front of him while pointing at his mask, "I promise I won't remove it. It's just...beautiful...and I'd like to get a closer look."

His icy blue eyes gazed at you, displaying a faint hint of contemplation, yet without uttering a single word or making any movement. You waited patiently, but since there was no response after a minute, you made the decision to proceed. Your delicate fingers grazed over the papier-mâché mask, brushing away a few strands of his long blond hair and delicately tucking them behind his ear. His breath hitched the moment you briefly touched his skin and a grin spread across your lips. Your hand now found his head, patting it sweetly while humming a happy melody. His breaths grew heavier and his head tilted, leaning in against your touch. Your gaze shifted from his disheveled hair to his eyes, and you found yourself getting lost in the dilated pupils that slowly engulfed the blue around them. Beneath the darkness of murder and madness, there still existed a little boy who longed for love, family, or even just a simple human connection.

"Nurse!"

The metallic clanking of the opening door and Loomis' voice startled you and your hand instinctively retreated as your eyes wandered to the doctor.

"You're needed elsewhere, I'll take it from here", he said softly yet assertively, taking a seat in front of Michael.

As you tried to turn around, you sensed a firm grasp on your wrist. Michael's fingers were wrapped around it tightly, keeping you in place as his pleading eyes found yours. Despite the intensity of his grip and the fact that he had already taken the life of a nurse, you felt an overwhelming sense of tranquility. Leaning closer to him, you gently attempted to pry his fingers away from your wrist.

"I'll be back as soon as I can", you whispered, a smile gracing your lips, "I'll drop by your room if it's too late, I promise."

Finally, he released his hold on you, and for a fleeting moment, a glimmer of hope flickered in his eyes, his hand rising slowly to wave at you. It didn't feel right to leave, but there was no other choice. As the door closed behind you, you stole one last glance through the window, your heart heavy at the sight of Michael's lingering gaze while Loomis scribbled something down in his notebook almost frantically.

It was finally the end of your shift but as you changed out of your uniform, your thoughts drifted back to Michael, the commitment you had made hanging over you like a menacing shadow. Hanging the uniform in your locker, you made your way through the hallways.

"Aren't you supposed to be home by now?", Cruz asked, mopping the floor around Michael's room.

"Yes but I made a promise", you replied, offering him a polite smile as you paused at the door, gently knocking and waiting.

Despite not being alone, the hallway felt eerie. The dirty white walls seemed to stretch out into an infinite torment as your gaze wandered down to the floor, all the way to the end. A sudden thud at the door made you jump, eyes darting towards the barred window where you discovered Michael peering back at you through his mask. As your heartbeat calmed down a bit, the corners of your mouth turned into a gentle smile and you placed a hand on the side of the window.

"See? I promised you I'd be back."

Cruz chuckled and stepped up beside you, slowly unlocking the door.

"Be careful", he whispered, twisting the key in the lock, "he's dangerous but I still believe it would be more personal and easier to greet him without the barrier of a solid metal door. Saw you two this afternoon, I believe it'll do Mikey some good, if you're good to him, he's good to you...in his own way."

With an encouraging smile, he pushed open the door and stepped aside. Michael remained motionless, his eyes fixed on your form as you cautiously entered his room. A gasp escaped your lips when you beheld the walls adorned with the many masks he had crafted over the past fifteen years. It felt surreal, like you'd just fell into another, darker, realm of mysteries and twisted wonders. Tentatively, you took a few steps closer, running your fingers along one of the masks hanging just above his desk. It stood inbetween all the colours as jt was painted all in white with cut-out eyes and a subtle dark gray line at the bottom resembling lips while the top was made of different black papier-mâché strands which gave the face less of a creepy and more of that weird out-of-bed hair look, eliciting a small giggle from you. Before you could react, a hand reached over your shoulder, plucking the mask from the wall and presenting it to you. You took it, careful to not damage it and turned around, your fingers nervously toyed with the loose coloured paper strands.

"For me?", you asked almost in a whisper.

Michael simply nodded and walked back to his bed, sitting down on the edge. You weren't sure if you should say or do anything else. The bond that was forming between the two of you was unusual and extraordinary. The silent killer and his nurse, an unexpected connection that blossomed like a foreign flower in the midst of a desert. 

"I...uh...need to get home now but I'll see you tomorrow", you offered him a smile, "and thanks for this. I love it and it'll get a special place at home."

You held up the mask before turning away, walking past Cruz who locked the door once again.

"I don't understand what it is with you but Mikey likes you, usually no one is allowed to touch anything in that room, not even me."

"Well maybe it's because I see a bit more in him than just the mindless killer everyone else believes him to be", you shrugged your shoulders, heading down the hallway with Cruz following behind you.

You felt his hand on your shoulder, forcing you to stop just as you were about to pass the last door of this floor.

"Whatever you see in him, don't forget what he has done", Cruz urged, "for your own sake."

The warden's words carried a subtle acknowledgement of the harsh reality, yet they were delivered with a touch of kindness. He seemed to be the only other person, apart from you, in this place who believed that there was more to Michael than just brutality and an unnerving silence.

Part 2 - Mask

[heavyhitterheaux]

Safety Net

See Me Through You Series

I've never been this scared before

Feelings I just can't ignore

Don't know if I should fight or fly

But I don't mind

Synopsis: Falling for someone else while you were still in a committed relationship was not supposed to be in the cards for you

Series Masterlist

A sigh left your mouth as you looked down at your phone and you rolled your eyes when you saw it was none other than your boyfriend Trevor. It had damn near fell off the table from the vibration and you watched it until it stopped ringing.

It had to be the tenth time that he called you today and it was the tenth time that you had ignored him. It seemed as if you and your boyfriend were arguing more than usual and it was honestly the last thing you wanted to deal with. There seemed to be a shift when you had gotten accepted to LSU and you applied there to be near him since he was a year older than you and you honestly had no clue what his problem was. He asked you specifically to do it and you were all for it. If you knew then how it would be, you probably would have applied elsewhere.

Any time you tried asking him about how he was feeling or if something was wrong since it seemed like there was, all you got was an attitude in return. He would pick fights for no reason, you would get upset and not talk to him while he went on to beg for your forgiveness when it was all said and done. The latest fight had been about how you wanted to stay in and have a study date instead of going out for date night when he knew that you had a test the next day that was a big percentage of your grade seeing as there weren't a lot of assignments to begin with for that particular class. Of course he told you no, and you left it at that.

Being your first semester, you had taken on a lot more than you could handle and you were now feeling the effects seeing as you were about a month and a half in. Last night you went to one of LSU's home football games because not only did Ja'Marr beg you to come, but Joe did also and was out until damn near four in the morning.

You could tell that he was getting more comfortable being a starter and they had been playing amazing. It was now Sunday night and you were trying to make up for lost time when your phone vibrated once again at your desk. Except, an instant smile came upon your face when you saw who it was and quickly answered.

“Joey…”

“Princess, why haven't I seen you yet? I thought you were coming tonight.” He asked you without giving a proper greeting. You could hear a bunch of commotion in the background and you simply assumed he was at another party.

Ever since the two of you met that first day in the gym, the nickname princess had stuck.

“Uh? Coming where? I was literally out with you, Ja'Marr and Justin until FOUR in the morning. I was UNWELL. I couldn't even see anymore by the time I got home.” You expressed and all you heard was his laugh. In your head you imagined that he was probably shaking his head too.

“Couldn't see anymore? Really? Now that's dramatic, even for you.”

“Excuse me!? Look, all I know is my eyes were red and my contacts were dry as hell and the THREE OF YOU kidnapped me.”

“Well I'm about to kidnap you again. At least for a few hours.”

“I have another EXAM to study for, sir. You got to have me all last night.” You told him as you had taken out your highlighters from your pencil case and set them on your desk.

“And? I want to have you all night again. But I promise not to have you out that late.” Joe told you and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

At this rate, Joe spent more time with you than your actual boyfriend and actually wanted you to be around him. He was always down to have a study session with you unlike Trevor.

“Hmm, what time did you plan on having me out until?”

“Three give or take.”

“JOEY that is literally only a one hour difference!” You exclaimed as you shook your head in disbelief.

“You don't take your exam until later in the week! I've helped you study and you're going to be fine. Come on, I want to see you. I forgot what you looked like and I need a reminder to be in person.”

“You are such a hot ass mess and you have been around my brother too long because that sounds like exactly something he would say. Take a picture next time.”

“I could take one tonight if you let me see that pretty face of yours.”

With a deep sigh and a groan escaping your lips, you finally gave in.

“I'm ignoring that last part.”

“Why? I called you pretty and it's a compliment.” Joe asked, suddenly confused.

“And I'm not single, which you already knew.”

“Hmm, at least not yet. But I'll patiently wait my turn.”

You were glad that it wasn't a facetime call because your jaw had literally dropped and it took you a second to close your mouth.

It was quiet for a few seconds and Joe had to make sure that you didn't hang up.

“Princess, you still there?” Joe asked and the music in the background distracted you for a second.

“Just text me the address.”

“Can't wait to see you, gorgeous. Text me when you're outside.”

As soon as you hung up, Joe sent you the address and then you went to ransack your closet to find something to wear. Looking through your closet, not only was your mind racing, but your heart was too.

Joe had a crush on you, that much was obvious but the last thing you wanted to happen was for it to suddenly be awkward between the two of you. Why did you suddenly get butterflies when he's around, but when it comes to Trevor you felt absolutely nothing? You were nervous that it would get to the point that you would make an absolute fool out of yourself in front of him. But at the same, why should you care? You had a boyfriend.

The more you kept thinking about it, the more you were probably going to hurt your brain so you put your focus solely on searching for an outfit. In the back of your closet, you found a short black dress staring back at you. It was already known that you had the perfect shoes to go with it, so the answer that you came to was yes almost immediately.

After taking a quick shower and straightening your hair, the dress was slipped on along with the shoes. You did a once over in your floor length mirror that you had gotten from IKEA and nodded to your reflection in approval. Looking at your phone, you saw that it was close to ten at night and the goal was to get there as soon as possible in order to be able to get back as soon as possible.

The drive was a short one and once you pulled up, you saw multiple people hanging out outside including someone who was shitfaced on the front lawn of whoever's house it was. Shaking your head to yourself, you quickly pulled out your phone and sent a text to Joe in order to let him know that you were here.

Less than three minutes later, you saw him come out of the front door and take the steps two at a time to make his way to your car. Getting out, you closed your door and made sure to lock it before turning to face him as he had come up to you from behind.

“Hey, I'm here just like I promised. Since you know that you forgot what I looked like and wanted to see me in person.” You told him while rolling your eyes he smirked.

“Nothing changed from last time. Still as gorgeous as I remember.” He responded as the two of you started walking towards the front door.

“You literally just saw me last night and I don't have any idea what I'm going to do with you.”

“I could think of a few things I want to do with you. Just let me know when you're ready to find out.” He whispered and you simply shook your head.

Once the two of you crossed the threshold, his hand was on the small of your back as he guided you through the swarm of bodies and soon made your way to the kitchen where Justin and Ja'Marr were in the middle of an intense game of beer pong.

“About time you showed up, big sis. Tell the little bro that he is about to get his ass kicked.” Justin told you as it was Ja'Marr’s turn who looked at Justin to suck his teeth.

“I am not! How is that possible when I’m definitely winning right now?!” Ja’Marr asked as rolled his eyes.

“I just don’t see how the three of you have so much energy.” You said as you looked at all three of them.

“Yesterday we were pregaming.”

“Justin?! Pregaming?!?! We were out for hours!” You exclaimed as he looked at you and shrugged.

“You made it back home in one piece, didn’t you?”

“Of course she did because Joe wouldn’t let her out of his sight.” Justin quietly said but you could see Joe turn a slight shade of red while Ja’Marr smiled.

Since Joe and Ja’Marr had grown closer in the almost three months that he had been down here, Ja’Marr knew for a fact that Joe liked you and had been infatuated with you ever since he introduced the two of you to one another. He had his suspicions that you liked him back, but he wasn't so sure.

He would try to do everything that he possibly could to get you away from Trevor.

Joe had walked away from the three of you for a minute and when he returned he handed you a red solo cup. Before holding it up to your lips, you looked inside of it to inspect what it was. You could count on one hand the times that you had gotten drunk and rode it out at Erin’s house with her older sister giving you both IV fluids to help recover.

“What’s this?” You asked as you smelled it. It wasn’t a strong scent that would knock you off your feet and it gave you the vibe of it possibly being fruity.

“Your drink that I got you.” Joe said as he took a sip of whatever was in his cup.

“I was always told not to accept drinks from strangers or accept a drink that I didn’t go and get myself.” You told him as you looked back up at him.

“Well, it’s a good thing that I’m not a stranger right? And you honestly think that anyone would be stupid enough to try something with your brother standing right there?” He asked you as you gave him a look of approval.

“I guess you’re right, now what is it?”

“Just taste it, but if it will make you feel better, you can taste mine first. I promise that it’s the exact same thing.”

Without a second thought, you grabbed Joe’s cup and took a small sip. Just as you suspected, it was fruity and had a light taste that wasn’t overwhelming.

Seeing that you approved, he handed your cup to you and as you took another small sip, as promised it was the exact same thing.

“Good choice, Burrow.”

“I figured that you would like it and didn’t want any of the harder options that they have over there.”

“Y/N, you playing?” Justin asked and you gave him a small smile.

“Sure, but only if Joe plays against me.” You answered as you poked Joe’s side making him smirk.

“And here her competitive ass goes. We about to be over here for the rest of the night.” Ja’Marr muttered as he got some chips out of a large bowl and threw them into his mouth.

“I can take her, let’s get to it princess.”

“Famous last words, Burrow.”

After many rounds of beer pong later and mingling with other people, you were making your rounds with a few familiar faces in the living room, when you had suddenly spotted no one other than your boyfriend who looked to be drunk off his ass coming through the front door and sighed.

“Shit.” You quietly said and tried to look for an exit, but came up short. Before you could even make your way into the kitchen, he had spotted you and was moving towards the direction that you were in.

“So, you can’t answer my calls, but come to a party instead?” He asked as he towered over you.

“You pissed me off and I didn’t want to talk to you, simple. So yes, I can dodge your calls whenever I fucking feel like it and come to a party instead. Move out of my way because I still don’t want to talk to you.” You replied and attempted to move around him, but instead he caught your arm and pulled you back.

“I’m not finished fucking talking to you and the last thing you’re about to do is walk away from me.”

“I can and I will and you need to get your fucking hands off me before I get my brother who will beat your ass. I still don’t want to talk to you so move along. You’re clearly drunk and we will have this conversation when you’re sober.”

One thing that you were not going to do was let him intimidate you. You might be small, but you still stood your ground and let him know that you would be tolerating any form of disrespect coming from him or anyone else.

“Who the hell are you talking to like that?” He asked as his grip on your wrist tightened at the same time you were trying to get away from him.

You were trying to look around for Ja’Marr, Justin, or Joe but was coming up short until you heard Joe’s voice from behind Trevor.

“Is there a problem over here? Y/N, you okay?” He asked as he stood on the side of both of you and looked Trevor up and down.

“We’re fine, mind your own damn business. This is between me and my girlfriend.”

“I believe that I was talking to her and not to you. I don’t give a damn if you’re her boyfriend or not. What you aren’t going to do is disrespect her in front of me. You can first start by getting your hand off of her damn wrist because you’re hurting her and it’s turning red.”

“Who the fuck is this guy? Y/N, you fucking him instead of me?” He asked the first question to no one in particular, but the second one was obviously directed at you.

“Trevor, quit it. Just leave. I already said that I wasn’t going to talk to you.”

“Nah, because he thinks he can come over here and get in my business when it has nothing to do with him.” He told you as he turned to keep his eyes on Joe.

Suddenly the room had gone quiet and all eyes were on the three of you as he began to raise his voice.

“Just leave and we’ll talk later.” You told him as you wanted for this night to be over since your mood was now ruined.

You knew that you should have stayed home.

“Not until pretty boy hear learns a fucking lesson.”

Next thing you knew, Trevor shoved Joe who barely moved one inch and you went to stand in between them.

You saw Joe’s jaw clench and knew for a fact that this was going to end badly unless you did something and did something now.

“Joey, no. And Trevor do not fucking put your hands on him.”

“So, you’re defending him instead of me?”

“Yes, because you are being a straight up asshole. Why the hell are you pushing people?”

The next thing you knew it seemed like everything was happening in slow motion, Trevor raised his fist and got ready to punch Joe who dodged it, but Joe made sure to push you out of the way first so that you didn’t get hit. Ja’Marr and Justin came running over to where all of you were standing and caught Joe’s fist as it was about to connect to Trevor’s jaw.

“Joe, chill. It’s not worth it as much as I want to let you go and beat his ass.” Ja’Marr told him as he was holding Joe and Justin was holding back Trevor.

“Y/N, go and get in my car.” Trevor said and you looked at him like he was crazy.

“I think the fuck not. My sister is not going anywhere with you. What you can do is take your ass on out that front door before I let him go and all three of us are kicking your ass, your choice.” Ja’Marr told him as Joe was still struggling to get out of his grasp making him have to hold tighter.

Trevor then held his hands up in defense and began to slowly walk away towards the front door finally giving up on the thought that you were going to leave with him. Once he was finally out the door, Ja’Marr released his hold on Joe and turned to look at you.

“Pebbles, I wish you would fucking break up with him. Do you not see what the fuck he just did? What if we hadn’t been here, huh?! Do you know what could have happened?!” Ja’Marr started but Joe quickly intervened when he saw tears forming in your eyes.

“Not now man, important thing is that she’s okay. You are okay aren’t you? Let me see your wrist.”

You held out your right arm so Joe could look at it and there was a red indentation from where his hand had been.

“Come on, let’s get you some ice from the freezer.”

As you nodded your head, Joe guided you into the kitchen and you were caught off guard as he placed you onto the counter as he rummaged through the freezer and got a small ziploc bag to put the ice in. When he was finished, he walked back over to you and stood in between your legs as he placed the ice on your wrist which led to you letting a hiss escape from your lips.

“Seriously, princess. Are you okay?” Joe softly asked you and you nodded your head.

“I just… I’ve never seen him get like that before and I was scared. He has never put his hands on me or yelled at me like that.”

“I’m just glad we were all here with you.”

“Me too.” You quietly said as Joe brushed a piece of hair out of your face and smiled at you.

It was quiet for a few minutes as Joe tended to your wrist before he looked back up at you.

“You ready to leave? I can come with you.”

“Yeah, I think that it’s probably best at this point.”

Ja’Marr came into the kitchen and made his way over to you as he gave you a hug from the side since Joe was in front of you and kissed the top of your head.

“I yell because I love you and never want anything to happen to you. You’re the only twin I got.” He told you as he pinched your cheek which made you smile.

“I know, I love you too, Bam Bam.”

“I was going to take her home. I’ll text you when she’s safe.” Joe told him, with him nodding in approval.

“Sure thing.”

It had gotten a little colder outside and made sure to walk as fast as possible to your car since the heels you were wearing probably wouldn’t allow you to run. When you were about to get into the driver’s seat, Joe stopped you.

“Let me drive, I know your wrist is still hurting.”

Unlocking your car and not putting up a fight, you walked over to the passenger side and slid in as Joe held the door open for you.

The two of you were now driving through Baton Rouge, as your head laid against the glass and Joe noticed the small circles you were massaging onto your wrist.

“Make sure you take some motrin or something to help your wrist. You don’t have practice tomorrow do you?”

“No, but we have it on Tuesday and then a competition on Saturday. I just hope it’s okay by then.”

“It should be. Just keep stretching it and taking something for it. And more ice will help too.”

“I will. Actually can we make a stop really fast?” You asked and of course Joe nodded.

“Of course and besides, it’s your car that I’m driving.” He responded while laughing.

“Good point. Make a left at the next light and then a right.”

Joe followed directions and was now on a dimly lit street.

“Where are we going?”

“When I get sad, I eat ice cream or get a milkshake at this twenty four hour spot I discovered.”

“Not you holding out on me.” Joe teased as you shook your head.

“I would have taken you eventually. But when I’m around you I’m always happy so there was no need for it.” You quietly said as Joe tried to hide the smile that was forming on his face.

“And that’s how it will always be when I’m around you.”

A few minutes later, Joe saw the sign for the ice cream shop that you had pointed out and quickly parallel parked on the street before the two of you got out to head inside. Joe once again opened the door for you and helped you up the steps to the entrance.

Looking at you now scanning the menu, Joe couldn’t help himself but to take in your appearance for the night. The black dress you were wearing was hugging your curves just right and the shoes you had on was a perfect compliment to it. He was pulled from his thoughts as he heard you call his name.

“Joey, what are you getting?” You asked as you looked over at him.

“Hmm, I’m not sure. Did you decide what you wanted yet? I’ll pay, it’s my treat.”

“Probably an oreo milkshake and you don’t have to pay for it.” You told him as you shook your head.

“Then lets make that two and I’m going to because I said so.”

You knew you smiling at him was more than enough to thank him as he placed both of your orders and paid. The two of you stood to the side and Joe noticed that you were hugging yourself and assumed that you were cold.

Without even asking you, he took off his hoodie and told you to hold your arms up.

“But I don’t want you to be cold.”

“You need it more than I do, arms up.”

You finally gave in and held your arms up as he quickly pulled it over your head and took out your hair from the back and pulled it down in the front.

“Better?”

“Better.”

When Joe had turned away from you to get both of your milkshakes, you took in the scent of his hoodie and it happened to be one of your favorite scents that he would wear. You put it in the back of your mind that you were not giving him this hoodie back any time soon.

He handed you your drink and he walked in front of you in order to be able to open the door and help you down the steps. As the two of you got settled in your car and he started to drive when he broke the silence.

“Y/N…”

“Hmm?” You asked as you were sipping on your milkshake.

“I’m saying this as someone who cares about you so please don’t take any of this the wrong way.”

“I know what you’re about to say, just like everyone else. I need to break up with him.”

“Then why don’t you do it? I mean I’m to the point where I wouldn’t want you to be alone with him because of what I saw tonight.”

“In some weird twisted way I do love him and he means well. He was not like that when we first got together and I honestly think that he’s going through something and he either doesn’t want to tell me or…”

“Y/N, stop making excuses for him. Even if he is going through something he has no reason to act like that towards you, drunk or not. What would have happened if the two of you were by yourselves?”

“I….”

“I just want to be sure you’re safe. At the end of the day, I’m not telling you what to do because you’re an adult but…. Take it how you want it.” Joe said, being completely honest as he turned into your apartment complex parking lot.

When you were quiet, he spoke up again.

“I would want nothing more for someone else to be able to show you how you should be treated.”

“Joey…”

“Y/N, I know you like me, and I like you. I’ve made that obvious time and time again. You literally spend more time with me than your actual boyfriend, and you even just told me yourself less than thirty minutes ago how happy you always are around me. Why don’t you just let me in? What are you afraid of?”

[xanneeeyyyy]

Not again, Damnit!

A/N: Be sure to check out the masterlist for the rest of the series! Tho, this can be read as a standalone—it’s up to you. Enjoy!

Wherein Katsuki Bakugou’s girlfriend ends up lost again, all thanks to All Might.

Ground Beta – Training Grounds, 6:45 PM

The evening sun was beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow over Ground Beta, where Class 1-A was in the brink of training.

Explosions cracked through the air, ice spread across the pavement, and bursts of lightning flickered as the students pushed themselves to their limits.

Well—most of them.

"Ugh…" you groaned, dropping onto a bench near the sidelines. "Five more minutes… just five…"

You weren’t slacking off—you had just been training hard all day. Your muscles screamed for a break, and honestly, if you moved another inch, your legs might have filed for divorce.

Meanwhile, All Might paced nearby, looking increasingly… stressed. "Ugh… this paperwork… these meetings… SO MANY RESPONSIBILITIES!" he muttered, rubbing his temples. You tilted your head. "Sensei?" He blinked, noticing you for the first time. "Ah, Young Y/N!"

"You okay?"

He sighed dramatically. "I didn’t know being a teacher would be this stressful! So many administrative duties."

You snorted. "So, what I’m hearing is... you have paperwork."

"MUCH paperwork!" he groaned. "And now Present Mic just informed me that he needs these signed documents immediately. But alas, I am needed elsewhere! I—" He froze.

Then he looked at you.

Then back at the folder in his hand.

Then back at you.

You blinked. "…Sensei?"

"Young Y/N…" He smiled brilliantly. "Would you be willing to do me a small favor?"

You perked up. "Of course! What do you need?"

He beamed. "Could you deliver these documents to Present Mic for me? He should be in the faculty office!"

You immediately stood up. "Consider it done!"

And just like that—you took off.

Without telling a single soul

least of all, him.

7:30 PM – Heights Alliance Dorms

Training had ended, and the class had returned to the dorms, exhausted but satisfied. Except for one very important detail.

"…Where the hell is my girlfriend?" Bakugou asked.

Silence

Everyone froze.

Kirishima blinked. "Wait… wasn’t she with us at training?"

"I saw her on the bench earlier," Mina said. "She was resting!"

"But did she come back with us?"

Everyone exchanged wide-eyed looks.

Momo immediately checked her phone. "She’s not answering."

"WHAT?!" Bakugou’s eye twitched. "SHE HAS HER PHONE, RIGHT?!"

Kaminari scratched his head. "I mean, probably?"

Bakugou stood up so fast his chair nearly flipped. "ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!”

"Calm down!" Lida waved his hands robotically. "She’s probably just—"

A knock at the door. Everyone turned.

Standing there—was Aizawa.

"...Where’s Y/N? I need to ask her something," he asked.

Silence.

"YOU’VE GOTTA TO BE FUCKING SHITTING ON ME!" Bakugou roared.

Aizawa blinked. "…She’s not here?"

Kirishima gasped. "YOU DON’T KNOW EITHER?!"

Momo clutched her chest. "OH MY GOD,”

Mina’s hands flew to her head. "NOT AGAIN!"

Aizawa frowned. "…Again?"

Bakugou stormed forward. "WHAT DID YOU DO, SENSEI?!"

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed. "I didn’t do anything. All Might asked her to do a favor earlier,"

Pure. Deafening. Silence.

"THAT DAMN OLD MAN!" Bakugou exploded.

Kaminari collapsed onto the couch. "I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS."

"SENSEI, CONTROL YOUR COLLEAGUES!" Everyone pleaded.

Aizawa sighed. "…I should’ve seen this coming."

"NO SHIT!"

Todoroki, ever calm, simply asked, "Where did she go?"

"The faculty office," Aizawa answered.

Bakugou’s vein popped.

"SHE LEFT BEFORE TRAINING ENDED. IT’S BEEN TWO HOURS!" Mina clutched her heart. "SHE PROBABLY GOT LOST IN THE HALLWAYS!"

"Someone call the police," Kaminari whispered.

Aizawa rubbed his temples. "I’ll go find her." Bakugou pushed past him. "LIKE HELL YOU WILL—I’M GETTING HER MYSELF!"

"Bakugou—"

"NO! I’M BRINGING HER BACK BEFORE SHE ENDS UP IN A DIFFERENT PREFECTURE!"

Aizawa sighed. "Fine. Let’s go."

And with that—Bakugou was gone.

“I’m not paid enough to handle all of this crap —especially that hopelessly directionless child," Aizawa thought to himself as he ran to catch up with Bakugou.

"…freak."

You had delivered the documents perfectly fine. But then you’d taken a "shortcut" back to the dorms and…

Yeah. A shortcut

And now, you were somewhere in UA’s labyrinth of hallways—completely and utterly lost. "Okay… if I go left…" You turned the corner. "Wait, I just passed this vending machine—"

Then, footsteps.

Loud. Fast. Angry.

"—THE HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW WHERE SHE IS?!"

Your soul left your body.

Katsuki and Aizawa-sensei.

And judging by the sheer fury in Katsuki’s voice, you were beyond dead.

Really, really dead.

Slowly, cautiously, you peeked around the corner— Only to make direct eye contact with a very, very pissed-off Bakugou.

"…Oh," you whispered.

"…Hi, S-Suki?"

His eye twitched.

"YOU."

Pure survival instinct kicked in as you turned and bolted in the opposite direction. "GET BACK HERE, DUMBASS!"

"NOOOOOOO!!! YOU’RE GONNA KILL ME!!!" you shrieked, running blindly through the halls, your only thought being escape from Katsuki’s wrath at all costs.

"WAHHH, MITSUKI-SAN, PLEASE SAVE ME!!!"

"NOT EVEN THAT OLD HAG CAN SAVE YOUR ASS NOW!"

The door slammed open. Katsuki stormed in, carrying me over his shoulder like a sack of rice and the entire class erupted.

"Y/N!"

"WE THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!"

"DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU PUT US THROUGH?!"

Bakugou then continued to walk up to the elevator and pushed the button to his floor. "YOU’RE NEVER GOING ANYWHERE ALONE AGAIN!" He grumbled

Aizawa sighed, rubbing his temples. "I'm implementing a rule."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Todoroki, completely unfazed, took a slow slurp of his soba. "She needs a leash."

You gawked. "HEY!

“SUK!! AREN’T YOU GONNA BE MAD AT THAT?! A LEASH?!"

"Tch. At this point? Not a bad idea."

Your jaw dropped. "EXCUSE ME?! If anyone needs a leash, it's YOU! You’re the one who barks at people like a damn rabid dog!"

Bakugou’s eye twitched. "OH YEAH?! AT LEAST I DON’T GET LOST LIKE A CLUELESS FUCKING CHIHUAHUA!"

You gasped dramatically. "HOW DARE YOU—"

Before you could fire back, Deku cautiously raised a hand. "Uh, actually… Kacchan does kind of, um… bark a lot."

Bakugou’s head snapped toward him so fast it was a miracle he didn’t get whiplash. "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY, DEKU?!"

Deku paled. "N-Nothing! I didn’t say anything!"

Just then, the ding of the elevator echoed through the hall. The elevator door opened and he stepped inside. "PUT ME DOWN, YOU SHITTY POMERANIAN!" you huffed, squirming in his grip. "NOPE. YOU'LL JUST WANDER OFF AGAIN, DUMBASS," he shot back, tightening his hold as you kicked your legs in protest.

"I WILL NOT—"

"LIKE HELL YOU WON’T! YOU GOT LOST IN OUR OWN SCHOOL!"

You scowled, arms crossed as best as you could in your undignified position. "I would've found my way eventually!"

Bakugou scoffed. "Tch. Yeah, maybe in a week."

Then the door shut leaving them in the common room. Everyone turned to Aizawa. "From now on," he said, dead serious, "Y/N must have a chaperone at all times."

Silence.

The class cheered

"THANK YOU, SENSEI!"

"BEST RULE EVER!"

And thus—the new rule was born.

Extra:

Katsuki and you were now in his dorm.

Bakugou crossed his arms, smirking triumphantly. "FINALLY. AN ENCLOSED SPACE." You groaned, still hanging over his shoulder. "THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?!" He kicked the door shut behind him. "MEANS YOU CAN’T RUN, DUMBASS."

Your eyes widened. "WAIT—"

Without warning, he unceremoniously dropped you onto his bed. You bounced slightly before sitting up, shooting him a glare. "YOU COULD’VE PUT ME DOWN LIKE A NORMAL PERSON! I THOUGHT I WAS YOUR DAMN PRINCESS?!" Bakugou smirked, leaning against the door with his arms crossed. "Yeah? And what kind of dumbass princess gets lost in her own castle?"

You gasped, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "EXCUSE ME?!" He shrugged. "Face it, princess. You need a royal guard—ME—so you don’t go wandering off like a lost puppy." You grabbed the nearest pillow and chucked it at his face.

"ASSHOLE!"

A/N: Part 3? Let me know in the comments 💟 Thank you for all the hearts and reblogs as well, trully appreciate it 🥰

© 2025 CODE:BKXY— All rights reserved. Please don't post my work as your own on any other sites.

[pomefioredove]

I— 'Don't bite your lip, I want to do that' with Jamil possibly? 🥺 I swear that would straight up kill me (in a good way)

I hope you have a good day!

oooh... this one is interesting

summary: "Don't bite your lip, I want to do that" type of post: short fic characters: jamil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, BRIEF mention of blood, a little kissing, fluffy, not proofread aaand maybe a little ooc

You are the personification of bad habits.

At first, Jamil avoided you; he thought he had done enough babysitting, and the last thing he needed was to worry himself over your love of biting your nails.

...And then, of course, he caved.

He couldn't just avoid you forever, and if he was going to be your friend anyway, he might as well have tried.

So, Jamil has learned a lot about you in these past few months.

For one, when you're nervous, no amount of verbal reminders will prevent you from fidgeting.

And, for another, you responded shockingly well to physical touch.

It became a habit of his. Away from prying eyes, he'd hold your hands to prevent you from picking your cuticles and tuck your hair behind your ears so you wouldn't chew on it.

He fussed over you in ways not even he understood, but that didn't matter.

He liked the feeling that came with being the leader between the two of you.

There was just one thing he couldn't seem to fix.

"Stop that," Jamil says, running his thumb over your lower lip. He sighs, seeing the blood beading from where you'd bitten.

He takes up a handkerchief, dabbing at your lip.

"There are better ways to deal with your anxiety than taking it out on yourself," he mutters. He would know.

"Sorry,"

"It's not worth apologizing over," Jamil says. "Don't let your thoughts get the best of you. They're supposed to serve you, not..."

He pauses, withdrawing the handkerchief.

"I just wish you'd stop doing that,"

"I can't help it," you say.

He knows that already, he thinks. That's why he's trying to help.

He frowns. Being so worried over someone he has no obligation to worry over is a new feeling, but not an unwelcome one.

It's just... difficult.

"You're too thoughtful for your own good, sometimes," but it's not like he's complaining. It's a welcome break from the thoughtlessness he deals with elsewhere.

Jamil knows it's your first instinct to bite and pick and peel; he's also confident he'll find a way to train you out of it.

Maybe...

No. What a stupid thought. Holding hands is one thing, occupying your lips to dissuade you is another.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask.

Ugh. "Nothing. A solution,"

"I want to hear it," you seem quite adamant. He sighs.

"I thought that if occupying your hands has worked for in the past, that the same might be true of your lips... but that's clearly not as easy,"

You're quiet. Probably thinking, and then overthinking.

"Well... why not? Why not kiss me, I mean?"

Jamil almost drops the handkerchief. Maybe you weren't overthinking this time, after all.

"...Because this is not some silly movie where I say something like... "don't bite your lip, I want to do that", or something equally embarrassing,"

You seem to hold back a giggle, much to his chagrin. "Maybe you should. Maybe it would work,"

"...You're not serious,"

You nod. Sevens, you are turning out to be a handful today. Much more so than usual.

Still...

He sighs. "Fine, but only because you insist,"

A long silence follows. Jamil studies your expression, almost looking for a hint of deceit, but... it's just you.

Genuinely caring about others is such a headache.

He hesitates, and then leans in, pressing a short but sweet kiss to your mouth. It tastes like blood. Not that he minds.

Keeping a cool facade after that is harder than he expected, and it takes him a minute to pull himself together.

At least you look happy with yourself.

Despite his internal embarrassment, he can't help but smile at the thought.

"Distracting enough?"

You're quiet, lost in thought... and then you nod. "I would say so. I guess your theory was right all along,"

Jamil feels a little swell of pride, both at the praise and at the soft look on your face.

"Hm. They often are,"

[luneariaa]

ᯓ★٠ ࣪⭑ UNSPOKEN. ✧ KENJI S. { 𝐈 }.

✰ — PART 1 ; mentions of kenji having some deep; untold sadness, emi mention, the reader being the sunshine friend to kenji + having close relationship.

✰ — probably will have more two - three parts of the story! tried to fit in one part, but it doesn't work somehow ( ╥ω╥ ) to those who wanted to be tagged in the next future parts, feel free to comment or send me an ask <33 !! ✩₊˚. PART 2.

. dividers by @/strangergraphics ⛓ !!

GROWING UP, for almost his entire life, KENJI— regardless of the increase of popularity and fame, doesn't really have that much of friends. Does he even have them at this point? He doesn't really have anyone that he could actually rely on; even trusted fully.

Despite everything from the outside of one's possible perspective, he's still the lonely, sweet boy deep down. None has ever truly cracked his persona down and managed to bring out his true self, which a part of him is glad for some reason— but the other, not so much.

The attention that he has received all over the world doesn't really mean anything, not what he silently craved and secretly desperate for.

Companionship, someone who actually cares about his wellbeing as a whole despite his ongoing status.

Yes, of course, he loves the fact that he's able to accomplish something that's quite significant to him, at least— getting all of the attention that they think he truly deserved, but there will always be this one void within his heart; as if begging to be fixed with something that even he himself wasn't so sure about it.

His mansion may have everything that he ever needed, but it still feels bleak, somehow, no matter what he's trying to do. What's the point of having large spaces, when in the end, the mere silence will be his only company?

Kenji doesn't even realize it, but sometimes, he ended up just staring blankly at the empty gaps of his surroundings; feeling lost at the said moment.

His world has been nothing but simply revolving around his stardom life as much as the realization hits him; an endless, monochromatic-colored world that he tacitly faced alone with some fair, or unfair number of struggles.

"Must be a tough day today, yeah Ken?"

"You should take some more needed breaks, at least!" He swiftly got pulled out of his train of thoughts, eyes immediately glancing to the source of sound. This is his reality now, not the one that he keeps on unconsciously reminiscing of.

"Pushing yourself too hard wouldn't be too good for your health, y'know." A euphonious voice scolded him lightly, accompanied with a bright, albeit concerned grin.

Kenji now took notice of you standing by the doorway; your smile remained despite the visible apprehensive look that was directed towards him. Completely aware of the mere truth behind your words alone, he averts his gaze back elsewhere— cracking a small, yet almost forceful of a smile as if he's trying to ease down your concerns.

"Yeah, you got a point. It's just the usual, I guess," he scratches the back of his head while lazily slouching on the bed. "It's not me if I don't mope over some pointless stuff."

"Well, it's not that pointless if it bothers you." You exhale out, gradually pulling him out of the bed.

"Maybe we can try something for the day— maybe you wanted to play baseball for a bit? I'll watch 'cuz you know I suck at those."

He couldn't hold back the snort from escaping, which earned a disapproving pout from you, but nonetheless, you added further.

"Or we could just play around with baby Emi as always! Or both, I don't know.."

"Perhaps that could at least ease your mind for a bit..?"

He could clearly sense your efforts; chuckling as he knows that he doesn't have any other plausible choices, but to simply follow your lead without any complaints. When it comes to you, Kenji knew it would always be futile to try anything quite the contrary from it.

"That sounds nice, actually." A genuine smile, despite the hints of his exhaustion, tugged at the corner of his lips. Has he even noticed it himself on how easy it is for you to coax him out of his shell? "Playing with Emi sounds amazing."

Kenji admitted along with a smirk being present by now, replacing his previous smile while doing some mini stretches here and there.

"I know!" You merely giggled over his words, "Besides, I just know that the baby already misses you. I fed her earlier too, in case you're wondering!" His pretty, midnight-colored eyes seemed to brighten up after you finished speaking for a bit.

"At this rate, I think you're spoiling her a bit too much," he castigated facetiously, earning an eyeroll from you when one of his hands ended up atop of your head— giving it a playful ruffle.

"Well, what can I say.."

"She's just a cute, big baby."

His genuine smile returned in mere seconds, finding the whole idea to be quite endearing; causing for him to feel the warmth that's starting to blossom within his chest. He's totally aware of his whole responsibility at this point— unintentionally, yet welcoming the idea of becoming a father to the baby kaiju, now willingly to take care of her because she's one of the reasons that actually changed him for the better.

Throughout the whole conversation that the two of you have shared with one another, it seemed as if the burdens on his shoulders has been lifted away; the atmosphere becoming more comfortably lighter than before without you even realizing it yourself.

Kenji doesn't even know how, but your sole presence has something in particular that keeps him grounded, and he values you deeply for that.

Even with such mystery that's been shrouding around you, it never really bothered him that much; respecting your boundaries and taking an immediate notice on how you seemed to be uncomfortable with talking about your own past and parents, in a way. He assumed that something might have happened before, hence the vague details you kept telling him— no irritation present ever.

Maybe someday, you'll have the courage to tell him. But for now, you would rather keep it a secret.

@luneariaa. do not repost; reblogs are welcomed. all rights reserved.

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Lonely Nights

Two uploads in one day? I'm cooking. Also inspired by @/shurisneakers grumpy x grumpy works, go check her works out they're amazing

Summary: Attending a party with the man whose whole goal in life seems to be annoying you to no end goes...not exactly as planned

You've lost count of the number of parties Natasha has dragged you to attend. You're pretty sure this is at least the tenth one in the past month, which is ten times more than the number of parties you usually attend. Then again zero times ten is still zero so you're not sure how the math adds up.

Grabbing another glass of whiskey, you stare at the golden liquid swirling around, trying to drown out the noise in the background. Parties really are far too loud for your taste, the only good thing to come out of them is the free flow alcohol that you constantly take advantage of. The drinks taste even better knowing that the tab is on a certain genius playboy billionaire and so at every party you lurk at the bar, inhaling drinks until you get hungover.

Tonight, there's a newcomer — Bucky Barnes, also known as the Winter Soldier. Turns out he's Steve's best friend who was thought dead and you have to admit, the brunette is quite the handsome man, although you'd rather die than admit it out loud. He's currently following Sam who seems to be on a mission to talk to a girl for more than a minute, and from the look on his face, quite enjoying the other's multiple failures.

You take another mouth of whiskey and look away, relishing in the way the liquid burns on the way down. Natasha has disappeared, probably to outdrink yet another poor soul, leaving you all alone at the bar counter, not that you mind. You quite like the personal space and lack of need to socialise with another human being, two things that are currently being challenged by a certain brunette you were watching not too long ago.

"Go away."

"I see you've been learning some manners." He leans over to take a glass of whiskey for himself, downing half of it in one go.

"And I see you haven't." You glare at him.

"Maybe you should introduce me to your teacher, I might just learn some manners then." He simply smiles at you.

"Hmph." You turn back to your glass. "So what are you doing here?"

"Was invited to the party by Tony." He swirls his glass before downing the remaining half. "Same as you."

"I can tell. Why are you sitting right next to me after I told you to get lost?"

"I believe you said 'go away', not 'get lost'."

"Same thing." You pinch the bridge of your nose. He was getting on your nerves as always, you sometimes swore he saved all his cheek for you and you alone.

"Nope it isn't. One is asking me to simply leave, the other is asking me to lose all sense of direction —"

"Okay Mr Dictionary, didn't ask you for the difference between 'away' and 'lost'. Why are you still seated next to me?" You grab another glass from a passing waiter and immediately inhale one third of it.

"I'm tired and want to sit down." Bucky shrugs.

"There's plenty of other seats out there." You gesture to where the crowd is.

"Here seemed the most comfy, although the company it offers could use some work." He smirks, biting back an amused huff when you roll your eyes.

"Then go and find company elsewhere."

"But you'll be lonely. As a gentleman, I cannot stand by and let a lovely person such as yourself spend the night alone." He dramatically places a hand over his heart.

"Since when were you a gentleman?" You snort, knocking back more alcohol. You were going to need more if this bastard insisted on spending the rest of the night with you.

"Since the moment I saw you sitting here alone."

"How chivalrous. You want a lordship or something?"

He laughs, reaching over the counter and pulling out a bottle of vodka. "If only you could grant me one."

"Dunno. Could try pulling some strings or something, haven't tried granting anyone a lordship before. First time for everything, am I right?" You toss a bottle opener his way and he catches it, raising an eyebrow.

"Do you have this on you at all times?"

"Swiped it from the waiter just now. Was going to open one myself but since you've already taken one you might as well share. Sharing is caring, right?" You wave a hand.

"Then sharing this bottle would imply I care for you." He pops the cap open and starts chugging.

"Hey! I provided the bottle opener! I deserve some!" You yelp, rising from your seat. He easily dodges your attempts to grab the bottle from him and grins, waving it just out of your reach. Growling, you leap onto the counter and dash along it, successfully swiping the bottle from his surprisingly loose grip. Hopping back down, you gleefully wave the bottle before chugging the remaining liquid inside, letting out a satisfied sigh when not a drop is left.

"I win!" You cheer, laughing. All that alcohol is making you giddy and you lean a little too far backwards, stumbling towards the counter but before you can hit anything, a pair of arms wrap themselves around you, stopping your fall.

"Can't have you dying before granting me that lordship." Bucky grunts, placing you back onto your seat. You try to shove his arms off, making a face when he refuses to let go before resuming your scowl and crossing your arms.

"I'm not dying before you," you huff, annoyed. More importantly, you weren't about to die from a fall when you've survived aliens, gods, superhumans and everything in between.

"Congratulations on surviving purely out of spite all this while. Would you also like a gold medal?" Sarcasm drips heavily from his words.

"I'll take one." You don't miss a beat, even when tipsy. Bucky would admire that, really he would, unfortunately he's on the receiving end of your sass so it's already less admirable because of that. At least him being here means you won't be meeting your end via counters, he would miss all that wit and sarcasm if that were to happen. After laughing at your cause of death.

"Unfortunately I don't have one right now. Mind waiting for a bit, doll?" His lips quirk upwards ever so slightly.

"A gentleman making someone wait? What kind of gentleman are you?" You lift another snagged bottle to your lips, taking a swig.

"One that knows you're caring enough to share that bottle with me." He easily wrestles the half-drunk bottle from you, chugging the rest while keeping you at arms length with his forearm pressed against your chest. "Thank you for your generosity."

"You're not welcome!" You huff, futilely hitting his arm in an attempt to close the gap. He grins, turning the bottle upside down to show you there's not a drop left.

"Asshole." You scowl, gripping his arm tightly.

"My pleasure." His smirk is infuriating and with the alcohol clouding your mind, the moment he drops his arm you close the distance, wiping the smirk off his face with a kiss. Your lips connect and his eyes widen, but he kisses back, his metal arm snaking around your waist while his flesh one pulls you closer so that he can devour you.

Bucky's lips taste of vodka, whiskey and whatever else he drank before being your nuisance and it tastes good. You breathlessly pull away, cheeks flushed and grab a breath before diving back for another round.

"You're a pathetic kisser," you gasp after pulling away for air again.

"And still you want more." He licks his lips, ice blue eyes shining with mirth. "What does that say about you?"

"That I'm going to need to teach you how to kiss."

"Then teach me." He lifts your chin up. "The night's still young."

"Step one: shut up." Your lips crash into his again and he shuts up, savouring the kiss.

"Step two: don't stop." He murmurs, threading his fingers through your hair.

"Step three: eyes on me, only me." You press your forehead against his, feeling his warmth. "Took you forever to kiss me."

"You're the one who took forever, I was always open to it."

"Asshole."

"Idiot."

"You just asked an idiot to be your teacher."

"I don't mind this idiot being my teacher." His thumb runs over your bottom lip. "After all, this idiot is my idiot."

"Hate you."

"Love you too."

[thomaslittlegirl]

help. — thomas shelby

you have your first period and you need some help, so you look for your uncle.

warnings; suggestive. incest but not really. age-gap. reader is legal age!!

𐙚

small heath is covered in a dark fog and you rush to get inside as soon as possible. you know that your family doesn't like you walking around the city alone without any peaky man to protect you, or to make sure that no one wants to be smart with you.

the guys at the door quickly recognize you and let you pass. you're looking for a specific person: thomas.

a problem has arisen and you don't quite know how to address it. the only person you trust enough to ask for help is your uncle, the leader of the peaky blinders.

you take a few breaths and prepare yourself for what's coming, gently knocking your knuckles on the wooden door. "uncle?" you call, quietly but loud enough for him to hear you.

"come in, sweetheart."

when you walk into your uncle's office you almost wrinkle your nose when you see so much smoke. it seems as if the man had smoked all the cigarettes in the city in his space.

“what’s wrong, y/n?”

you take a breath and look at him, nervous. "i need your help... i need you to look at something for me."

shelby frowns and motions with his hand for you to come closer to him. the man leaves his cigarette in the ashtray and looks at you. you feel a little embarrassed walking near him. you feel sorry for what you're about to do, but you don't trust anyone enough to seek help elsewhere.

you carefully lift your dress to the height of your thighs, showing it to your uncle.

"what the hell happened to you?" he asks, now leaning close to your body. drops of blood drip down your crotch and dirty your legs.

"i don't know." you answer honestly, and a bit of fear in your voice. "am i sick, uncle?"

thomas looks into your eyes and then at the blood that trickles from you. "someone did something to you that you didn't want?" he asks, his jaw tense.

it seemed like his eyes shot up with anger in a second at the mere idea that someone had hurt you.

you shake your head.

"did you fuck anyone?" he asks again. the naturalness in which his questioning comes out makes you feel even more embarrassed. thomas talks to you as an equal, as if you were one of his brothers.

"no!" you respond quickly, shaking your head several times. "no, never."

your uncle directs one of his hands to your thigh, squeezing it briefly. he seems thoughtful. his silence makes you think the worst. "should we go see a doctor?" you ask, scared.

thomas smiles sideways, shaking his head. his large hand on one of your legs trying to give you comfort. "no, angel. "

"so...?"

"it looks like your first period has arrived.” he informs you, looking into your eyes. "congratulations, sweetheart. you are officially a real woman."

you look at him, swallowing. you feel ashamed for having overreacted in this way, for showing yourself so vulnerable in front of the head of the family for something so stupid.

“oh…” you just say.

thomas hides a chuckle trying not to embarrass you. he finds it cute the way you sought his help... he finds it sweet that he is the first person to whom you tell something as important as this is for a woman.

"what am i supposed to do now?" you question. your uncle stands from the comfortable leather chair and gives you a squeeze on the shoulder.

"wait here."

shelby gets lost in the hallways of his office and you just stand there, feeling the blood fall and watching how it stains the neat floor of his office.

thomas returns a few minutes later, with a tray in his hands. "lean on my desk." he says and you comply. "pull your dress up."

you do what the man asks of you.

"like this?" you ask, stealing a nod from him.

"good girl." he says, sitting back down in his big leather chair. "now open your legs a little for me, angel."

you feel the color rush to your face, probably leaving you red. you open your legs slightly as thomas asks, and you feel a warm, wet cloth slide down your thighs.

the sensation makes your skin crawl and you seek stability holding onto the man's shoulders. your uncle cleans the blood that dripped down your legs with a delicacy that surprises you... a man as hard as thomas shelby was, treating his niece in such a sweet and warm way.

thomas takes another cloth again and moistens it with the jug of warm water again, continuing his job of cleaning you completely; from your ankles to the inside of your thigh.

"lean back a little on the desk and open up more for your uncle, angel."

his words make you feel a little strange but you comply with his request, sitting on his desk and spreading your legs wide for him.

"i'm going to clean your private parts, princess." he informs, and soon you feel his strong hand running the cloth over your pussy.

you feel ashamed, vulnerable. small as if you were a tiny ant in front of a big lion.

thomas finishes cleaning you, but you still feel wet... your insides feel wet and hot, but you decide not to tell him anything.

the cloths stained with your blood are quickly discarded into a bucket on the side of his desk, getting rid of the evidence as he arranges your underwear in their place.

"done, little princess. your uncle left you all clean."

you nod your head, giving him a small smile. "thank you, uncle tommy."

thomas lowers your dress and covers your legs again. his big bads head towards your legs, caressing them gently.

"i'll tell polly to talk to you and explain how you should handle this situation on your own."

you nod. "it's okay... thank you for your help."

thomas smiles at you, now giving you a squeeze on the waist. his hands go down to your hips and stay there, holding you for him. "is there anything else that hurts you...?" he asks, sweetly. "your stomach, perhaps?"

you shake your head. it's not your stomach that hurts.

"just... my breasts... a little."

thomas licks his lips and you feel his grip on your hip get a little tighter.

"let uncle tommy take care of it, princess."

[sugarplumkneecaps]

Hello there! I'd like to request a Sonic x reader x Shadow if you will but if you can't then Shadow x Reader is fine! But basically since it's almost valentine's day, they have like a day together on Valentine's day just being all couple-y n stuff? Thank you take care! ❤️

A/N: Ahh! I’m going to give the 3 person one shot a go. I really hope I do your request justice <3 I tried to stick with something pretty wholesome and cute <3 Enjoy!

Valentine

Pairing: Sonic x Reader x Shadow C/W: none Genre: Wholesome, cuddling, fluff

“Well, here we are!”

Sonic’s voice cut through the loud noises of the city around you as you stood before a colorful building dawning all sorts of Chao memorabilia. Sonic had been going on about this new Chao Garden cafe for weeks and the grand opening just happened to be on Valentine’s Day. Shadow insisted that it was an elaborate marketing ploy and that you all should go after the hype had worn off. Sonic wasn’t one to wait for anything, though.

Crossing his arms over his chest defiantly, Shadow’s voice rose about the loud honking of cars and chatter of the long line formed around you, “did you get a reservation?”

“Sonic the Hedgehog doesn’t need a reservation,” Sonic declared, putting his outstretched thumb into his chest for emphasis. “Watch and learn!” He turned on his heel and headed toward the staff outside directing foot traffic. Each staff member looked horribly stressed, each wearing a forced smile when approached in between obsessively checking their clipboards. Marketing scheme or not, you felt awful for them and only hoped that the crowd would have mercy on them.

Sonic approached one of them confidently, interrupting their frantic preparations, “hiya! I’m Sonic the hedgehog and I-“

“Look, mister, I’m sorry but if you don’t have a reservation I can’t help you.”

Taken aback by the abrupt answer, Sonic tried again with an earnest tone, “Aha- right. Well, can’t you make an exception to the rule? What with me saving the world constantly and whatnot?”

You had to give Sonic credit for trying. The worker, however, was none too pleased. Exasperated by the interaction (and probably the line that wrapped around the building far from view), they answered firmly, “no reservation, no service.”

Returning to you, Sonic shrugged and smiled sheepishly, “they must of lost my reservation!”

“Typical,” Shadow shook his head, pulling his phone from his quills and typing something. “Let’s go.”

“What about lunch?” you asked, your stomach reminding you of your pitiful breakfast that morning. You had overslept and had to rush out the door in order to meet Shadow and Sonic here. All you managed was a granola bar and a breakfast shake, which had held you over enough to take the train here. But now, it was time for real food.

“I had a feeling Sonic might have dropped the ball, so I made reservations elsewhere.”

Sonic hung his head in comical defeat as you all started off to where Shadow led you. The walk over wasn’t incredibly far, thank Chaos, but the difference between the previous location and this was drastic. You stood before a small door leading inside a tall building, the windows having their blinds drawn to block out the sun overhead. On the door in small, neat print read “Chao Bao”. You reached out to turn the knob, pushing the door with some force to release it from the stuck frame.

An older gentleman stood behind a server stand, greeting you all as you entered, “why hello! Good afternoon!” He peered down at the page before him, sliding his long finger down the page until stopping abruptly. “Shadow?”

“Yes.”

“Ah! Right on the dot! Right this way, please.”

You followed him back into the building, moving between pillars and separating walls. As you walked down the hallway, you took note of the private rooms on either side of you. Muffled sounds of laughter sung behind each closed door until you all reached the one the host directed you into.

“Your waiter will be there momentarily! Make yourself comfortable.”

You all entered the room one after the other, taking in the sight of the private space. You found your way over to one of the intricately carved chairs, sitting gingerly at the large rosewood table. Within minutes of getting settled, you had all ordered and waited on your food.

“Man, Shadow, you really had to show me up,” Sonic pondered aloud, glancing around the room, nodding his head in approval.

“You say that as if it is difficult to do,” Shadow scoffed, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

“I’m just happy we get to spend the day together,” you offered. You genuinely felt so lucky to have these two goof balls in your life. Your relationship with them was unique, sure, but they made you happy in ways you didn’t know were even possible. Shadow offered a great deal of stability in most things and Sonic added spontaneity to the mix. Even though their bickering was the most of your worries after years of squabbles, they both worked well together to take care of you as their partner.

Rounds of bao were delivered onto the table alongside various other items that you couldn’t concern yourself with before digging in to sate your aching stomach. Sonic matched your pace, groaning after a short while as he rubbed his distended belly. Shadow thanked the servers before standing to leave. “Let’s get moving, we have more to do.”

You glanced at Shadow, giving him a quizzical look, “oh? Does it require much energy? I think I’m due for a nap after that.”

He smiled at you sweetly, moving over to you to offer a hand to stand you up. You placed your hand in his, the warm of his palm sending a tingling sensation down your forearm.

Sonic got up to join you both, stretching his arms above his head as he went. “Are we heading over to-”

“Yes.” Shadow answered curtly, narrowing his eyes at Sonic. “Do you not know the meaning of the word surprise? Now shut it.”

Sonic laughed loudly, giving you both a grand thumbs up before you went on your way.

The two had planned the most elaborate day of fun and doting you could have imagined, showering you with love and gifts that you showed endless appreciation for. It was far too soon when night crept over the city, signaling the time for your departure. Each of them kissed your hand before waving you off on your train. You had wished to spend more time with them, but with their insane work schedules, you understood their reasons for not entertaining late night hang outs.

However, upon entering your apartment, you found them both lounging on the couch, as if they were summoned by your very thoughts. You stumbled over your words, trying to piece together a coherent thought.

“You didn’t think it was over, did ya?” Sonic winked, grabbing your hand and leading you to the spot on the couch between them. They had done everything you hadn’t ever considered to be done to prepare for a lovely night in; rose petals were strewn about, candles had been lit, various sweets awaited you on the coffee table alongside a large bowl of popcorn and your favorite cup had been filled with your favorite drink. You felt an overwhelming sensation to tear up as each hedgehog took each of your hands into their own.

Images of your favorite film flashed on the screen, scenes playing out as you munched on your gifted snacks and cuddled between Shadow and Sonic. As the film neared its end, they each kissed your hand once more.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, love.”

[mongoosingisme]

Okay, hear me out, I'm sure this has probably been done a lot but, it's the 1st year of the flower dance and fem!farmer wooed shane up to 8 hearts. Farmer attends the festival in the proper attire (a pretty white dress and heels) and seeing shane all dressed up makes her all hot and flustered. She obviously asks Shane to dance and he begrudgingly agrees, but they instead sneak off into the forest for a little bit of "fun" instead. Protection? It wasn't planned soooo....oops. Pull out game? Weak. 🫣 They return to the festival afterwards for some sly comments from the others.

HELLO FRIEND!

I've tried to write this several different times, and then I got angst-pilled and wrote some other stuff and it all came together.

So... yes. A continuation of the couple other Shane fills I posted this week (here and here). Had to massage the ask a little bit (picturing it as being between 4 and 6 heart events), and it came out probably a little more dark/angsty than such a lighthearted ask would probably warrant so... uh, yeah.

(seriously, though, reach out if you want me to take another swing that isn't connected to other stuff and is maybe a little more light and bright).

Gonna be one more in this series that'll wrap it up.

Okay! No more housekeeping!

Title: (still don't know what to call these things - doc was named "Shane dance req")

Pairing: Shane x fem!farmer

Word Count: 4170

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only, if you would be so kind

Tags and fic under the cut!

Tags: Shane real real sad, alcoholism/depression stuff, blow jobs, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, super weak pullout game, not great examples of communication

When Shane was a kid Marnie had this dog. Ugly fucking thing, all drool and rough fur and this shit eating grin.

He loved that dog. He’d crawl into Shane’s bed at night, lay his head over his hip, all heavy and warm and stinking and love.

But then one summer the dog wasn’t there anymore. He had killed a chicken. Big teeth, thin neck, a mess of blood and feathers. You couldn’t have a dog that killed chickens around a farm, so he had to go live somewhere else.

Shane knew how that dog felt.

The farmer. He’d gotten a taste, and he wanted more.

Shane worked very hard not to want things.

Shane was failing.

It felt heavy. Everything felt heavy. 

“Are we gonna talk about all that?” She’d asked it a few days later at the saloon, voice quiet and soft, making sure Emily was elsewhere.

“Nope.” It was all that needed to be said. All that he could possibly say.

“Okayyyyy…” Her mouth was in a flat line. Another kind of honest look. Then she looked away, rested her cheek in her hand.

He wanted to be her hand.

He could still taste her.

He wanted more. It nagged at him. Made it all heavier. An unfinished task. Like if he did it maybe he could finally find some relief. Check the last box. 

He had a drink. It helped cover up the taste.

He should do with himself what Marnie did with the dog. Send himself off somewhere else, where there was less potential for pain.

That place didn’t exist, though. So he let himself sink.

Into drink, yes, of course, but also into the farmer. Because she was still there, somehow, still warm and real and honest and when he made her laugh he still felt like maybe there was a good reason for him to be on earth after all.

They spoke more. Sitting on the dock in the chilly early spring air. Or, most nights, at the Saloon. Slouching against the bar, lost in the way she managed to drag words out of him, circumventing the invisible boot that always felt like it was pressing into his throat. The teeth around his neck.

She saw more too. What he looked like when he was low. In his natural state, radiating spikes of pain that punctured the people closest to him.

It was okay. He had room for shame.

He didn’t have room for her, though, and the feelings she ignited in him. Feelings he could name (hope, joy, connection) but would not, would never, could never admit, because they were the feelings that didn’t stick around, and the holes they left behind were so much more painful than if they hadn’t been there at all.

The alcohol helped, for the most part.

It might be a problem.

———————

Shane was an atheist, but if he thought it would make the farmer stop showing up in dresses he could absolutely be convinced to pray.

Spring. Flower Dance. He was there. It made Jas and Marnie happy to see him there. He owed them that. Owed them the suit and the bow tie. Owed them the freshly shaved face and combed hair. Owed them the flask left at home.

Well. Two out of three wasn’t bad.

He spotted the farmer before she spotted him. This was a good thing - he’d probably have a stroke if he had to speak while processing what he was seeing. She was in a dress again. White this time. Light and floating around her knees. Pretty shoes that made her a little taller (his height exactly, if he figured correctly).

She looked radiant. That pure sun smile. Those warm, endless eyes. Hair done special and necklace on and bright and shining and kind and open and he wondered if he’d feel the same if she came up to him and took his hand in front of everyone and

(fuck no absolutely not, this was not what we are thinking about…)

Her shoes made her walk a little differently, back arched a bit, calves shapely. He could see the backs of her knees. She’d be soft and sensitive there. He could run his fingers back and forth over her skin, make her gasp and squirm.

(he knew what it sounded like when she gasped now, knew the sharpness of the intake, the gentle ‘hah’ that followed, knew a few ways to make her make that sound but there would be more, there would have to be more, so many ways to make her gasp that he hadn’t found yet…)

Her neckline wasn’t plunging, not exactly, but gathering, sleeves dropping off her shoulders in a way that insisted he trace his gaze across her chest.

(he’d touched her there, once, just the once, just his hands, he should have used his mouth, could have marked her, it would have faded by now but he’d know the spot, could look at her and remember how it’d felt to press his mouth there, but all he could do now is imagine and stare and…)

Shit. He was starting.

He focused quickly on the table in front of him.

Food was something to do, at least.

Take her taste out of his mouth.

He grabbed a macaron.

“Is that a bow tie?” She’d sidled up to him. 

He focused on the cookie, and the way his flask felt heavy in his pocket. “Don’t say a thing.”

She just smiled. “You look so perky! Like you’re about to round out a barbershop quartet!”

“Yoba’s Light, must you?”

“Or like you'll try to sell me a clarinet or something. Mr. Music Man!”

“Leave,” he said. “Go be somewhere else.”

“Only if you agree to dance with me!” Bright eyes. Sunshine smile.

“I would rather snort lead paint dust than dance at this thing,” he said. The cookie was dry in his mouth. Cloying and sweet.

The farmer’s sweetness was different. 

If she asked him to dance again he was going to say yes.

He needed a drink. 

“Hey kids!” Emily was there, sneaking the last macaron from under his fingers. “You dancing today?”

“Yes,” the farmer said.

“No,” Shane said.

Emily raised her eyebrows. “You two better get your stories straight.”

“Dance with me?” No bright eyes. No sunshine smile. Just her, sweet like a maple candy he’d had once, melting away on his tongue like it was never there in the first place, but the flavor remained.

“You’re not going to leave me alone until I say yes, are you?” 

“Nope!” She waved to someone over his shoulder. 

“Fuck,” Shane muttered, just to himself, then “fine.”

She smiled, small and controlled. There was a bit of impishness in her eyes. “Perfect. You’ll have to teach me the steps though.”

“Fuck,” he said, for her this time. 

She laughed. 

It all felt lighter, just for a moment. It made him feel like he was spinning up and up.

What goes up must come down.

“Show us how it’s done!” Emily was grinning over a madeleine.

Shane felt like he was losing control over the situation. 

As if he had any to begin with.

“I am not giving you a dance lesson in front of all these people.” He grabbed a fistful of meringues, popped a couple in his mouth. They dissolved instantly.

Not like her. She melted but she lingered.

“So go find a quiet spot and teach her!” Fucking Emily. She always knew exactly what she was doing. 

“Great idea! Come on!” And the farmer was holding his hand now, pulling on it, off towards the woods, and something was skipping in his mind, stuttering, trying to keep up because he absolutely felt the way he thought he would if he she did that, light shining through his body (hand to shoulder to heart to throat), a crushing weight lifted, and he could loosen if he wanted to, in the wake of it, but he tensed instead, because the holding of a hand implied a hand eventually letting go, and it all comes crashing back down so much harder when it gets lifted for a moment.

Emily winked, gave him a little wave as his feet moved without his approval.

The farmer’s hand was solid. Warm. Calloused. Strong. 

He wondered what the callouses would feel like if they rubbed against his lips. If they trailed over his stomach. If they wrapped around his -

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in something that didn’t have the word ‘Joja’ on it.” 

They were walking, just walking, hand in hand like it was the most casual thing in the world.

“How else am I supposed to feel like I’m thriving?”

The farmer snorted. Then, soft and sincere: “you look really good.”

What do you say to that?

“Thanks, you too,” he finally muttered.

“Don’t I?” She smiled at him. “Took me an hour to get my hair together. I used to take an hour on my hair every morning when I lived in the city. I can’t even imagine what it would feel like to have that much free time now.”

Shane made a sound of acknowledgement. 

One of the nice things about the farmer was that she rarely required him to have something to say.

“Think this spot is good?” They’d wandered off on a side trail, ended up in a little clearing.

Shane was struck by the fact that they were alone together. This was very rare.

Shane was struck by the fact that the farmer was absolutely beautiful, looking at him all gentle and at peace and like she was just where she wanted to be.

Shane was struck by the fact that he wanted her. He always wanted her, but it was suddenly so much more intense, so overwhelming, because she was right there, looking at him the way he looked at her, like she saw something she wanted, like she was looking at something worth wanting, and he wanted to drop to his knees.

“Yeah, this is fine,” he managed. 

“So how does it go?” She was looking at him expectantly.

“Huh?” 

“The dance. The one we’re supposed to be practicing. Is your tie restricting blood to your brain?” She reached out, fiddled with the bow.

Shane reached up and grabbed her wrists without thinking. They fit so nicely in his hands. “Don’t,” he said. “That took me twenty minutes to tie.”

He didn’t let go.

He could feel her pulse thrumming.

Her cheeks were a little flushed.

Her eyes dipped down to his mouth.

(It could happen it could happen he could check that box right now and be done with it and it would be fine, it would be okay, it was nothing to worry about because it’d be over and he’d know and the taste would be gone and he could finally finally move on…)

He rubbed his thumbs over her wrists. Slow.

“We’re going to have to talk about this at some point.” She sounded breathless. 

“Yeah,” Shane lied. Then he moved her.

There was a simplicity to bodies that Shane appreciated. A kinetic intelligence that had always been with him. Move this way and that will happen. Apply pressure here and see results there. It had made him a monster on the gridball field, taking down larger players with ease and precision.

Shane knew where his strengths lay.

He knew how to move a body. So he didn’t need to think about how to angle his grip to make the farmer take a step backwards. And it was easy to crowd into her space, press his forehead against hers, make her shift and stumble where he wanted her to go - up against a boulder that he knew would support her just where she needed it, on her shoulders, her hips, the arch of her back as he pressed her against it.

His mouth was on her skin, her neck, but only for a second because her hand was in his hair, pulling him up, making him look at her.

Her eyes.

He tried not to groan.

“Promise me,” she said. “Promise me we’ll talk about this.”

“I promise,” Shane lied.

(it was okay, he had infinite…)

“Okay,” she said, fingers loosening.

He wished they wouldn’t. He wished they’d stay right there, strong and harsh and demanding and showing him exactly what she needed, exactly what he could give her that wasn't a lie.

“Okay,” she said again, and his mouth was falling.

Dresses. Fucking dresses. So different from flannel and denim. So easy to move. Those sloping sleeves that dropped with the slightest nudge, baring curved shoulders and long neck and mounded flesh and skin and skin and skin and skin and skin.

And there it was. That gasp. She made it as he raked his lips across her chest.

(soft and warm, always, every part of her so soft and warm…)

She smelled incredible, like cedar and lavender and soap and just a little bit of sweat, and her chest was moving, heaving up under his mouth as he kissed her, mouth open and lax, chin and cheeks sliding, smooth for once (though part of him craved the friction, the resistance, the reddened skin that proved he was there).

Dresses. Fucking dresses. With tiny zippers in the back that were a bitch to get a good grip on, but once you did they came down so easy, and fuck, the farmer, so put together with a pretty strapless bra that he could pull down like it was nothing. 

Her breasts were warm and heavy as he cupped them. She sighed, pressed up into him.

A sigh was good.

A gasp was better.

He squeezed, observed the indentations his hands made in her flesh. She gasped, arching her back against the boulder.

“There you go.” He wasn’t sure if he said it or thought it. 

Her nipples had tightened, two pebbled tips, and it felt right and good and needed to pinch at them, thumbs and the sides of his forefingers.

(fuck, just like he thought, just like he dreamed, those sounds, sounds like “yes,” like “more,” like his name all broken and gaspy because she loved it, loved his fingers and his hands and his voice…)

“There you go.” He was definitely saying it out loud, and she was whimpering in return. 

His mouth wanted to say more. 

He filled it with her instead. Sucked. Grabbed at her hips as she arched again. Memorized the way she moaned. The way she tasted. Felt her tremble as his teeth scraped over her. Tried not to groan as her hands made their way back to his hair.

He failed.

"That feels so good," she was whispering, and it went straight to his cock. “So fucking good, Shane.”

(His name his name his name his name…)

The other side now. Sucking and scraping and groaning, he couldn’t help it, the sound ripping out of his throat because her hands kept holding him there. 

But then they were pulling, and he was letting her go, and she was saying “I owe you” with the cutest fucking little smile. He didn’t know what she meant until she lowered herself to her knees in front of him, and then he knew exactly what she meant.

Her hands. On his belt. His pants. Pulling. Tracing over his hips. Wrapping around his cock. She was gentle, looking up at him with eyes that were happy and present and just a little mischievous and she looked good, so fucking good down there

.

(So good, such a good fucking girl for him, down on her knees like that with her dress pulled down for anyone to walk by and see her, see her like that, all undone for him, all down on her knees with that smile that felt like a kiss, hot and dirty and intimate and he wanted to kiss her, drag her back up by her hair and…)

She flicked her tongue against the head of his cock, then took it into her mouth. 

He groaned.

Her lips stretched around him, warm, hot, so hot he was dying. 

He needed more.

He reached for her head, her hair, but she slapped his hands away, drew back to say “you mess up my hair and I’m ripping out your bow tie.”

Of course she’d make him laugh like that. 

“Noted,” he said. He realized his voice sounded warm.

And then she was on him for real, mouth stretching down, enveloping him, soft and suction and heat and wet and perfect. So perfect. He wanted to tell her, to unlock his throat, to let the words fall out

(So good so good so fucking good for me sucking my cock like this out in the open, so pretty for me on your knees, fucking made for me aren’t you, fucking made for this…)

But he pressed his lips tight. Closed his eyes. Let the entirety of all that was him rest at the point where her mouth stroked his skin.

It felt like light. Like letting go.

He wanted to let go.

But not yet. 

Now or never, he realized. 

He had to see. Had to check that box. Put it behind him.

He grabbed her hair, pulled her face back. She went easily, looked up at him. Her lipstick was smudged, her eyes a little wet.

He was going to make a mess of her, wasn’t he?

“Are you fucking kidding me?” It was the hair, he realized. 

Well. In for a penny, in for a pound. He kept one hand on her head, used the other to rip out his bow tie, and then he was pulling, something deep in him filling at the way she gasped, different this time, excited, anticipating, an edge of pain.

(Gonna make a mess of her, make a mess of this…)

She was easy to move, so pliant, goosebumps pricking up her arms as he settled her stomach and chest against the rock. He leaned against her, let her feel his weight. His mouth was by her ear. He let his lips touch it. Not a kiss, just a touch. Like his hand that had come around to cup her neck. Just a touch. Just a touch.

She was moving. Hips hitching back, rubbing against him. Throat flexing as she spoke: “Shane, fuck, I need you… Yoba, just fuck me, please.”

Her light. From her throat through his hand to his shoulder to his mouth. Filling it with her taste, too much, too full to keep the words inside, so as he reached up under her dress, pulled her underwear down, pressed his fingers against her he started to speak.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking wet for me, look at you.”

The words made her moan, or maybe it was his fingers working up inside of her. 

“You’re gonna feel so good, aren’t you? Gonna be good for me?”

He barely knew what he was saying, but she was agreeing with it, nodding, whining, moving her hips.

“That’s my girl. That’s my fucking girl.” He had to let go of her neck to get his hand around his cock, to rub it against her, so wet and welcoming, so warm, so fucking warm, all the time, like sunlight, pulling him in, (“I’ll pull out” “fuck, just do it”) deep, deeper, and he could feel her shift around him, making room, making space with a whimper and a whine and a groan (though maybe that was him) and he was enveloped and it was all lifting, lifting off of him, the weight, and fuck if there was space, if there was room in his life for good he could enjoy it, live in this moment, let it fill him and brace him and fix him like some idiot part of his brain still thought was possible.

But there wasn’t space.

So this had to be it.

She was looking over her shoulder at him. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes soft and hazy. Beautiful. So beautiful she couldn’t possibly be for him. “You feel good,” she said. 

If only there were space.

“Baby…” It fell out, looking in her eyes, and it made her smile, and it was fucked, it was all fucked, wasn’t it, because he couldn’t go back, couldn’t unfeel her, couldn’t unsee her, couldn’t let go of her taste.

There was nothing left to do but what his body was screaming for. 

To move.

An arm around her waist. A hand around her neck. Lips fastened on her shoulder. Hips shifting, ears listening, and yes, a gasp, a tightening, and so he did it again, felt her groan reverberate through his hand (hand to shoulder to heart), and then there was rhythm, something to follow, to fall into, to finally finally shut his mind off for one damn minute and feel.

Cool stone seeping in through his elbow.

Soft skin so easy to mold and move.

The farmer. Tight around him. Squeezing and taking. Giving back movement and sound and if he weren’t so far gone, so caught up in her he’d worry that they might carry, that someone might hear, but there was nothing on his mind, a merciful blank, a space, there was space, space that he could fill with her, like he was filling her.

(fuck fuck fuck he was doing it he was doing it he was here and she was here and they were moving together and it was like floating it was like falling it was like waking up it was like going to sleep it was like climbing it was like slipping it was nothing and everything and)

He wanted her to want this like him. Remember this like he would. He dropped his hand from her throat, found her clit, all wet and swollen and (fuck fuck fuck) her sounds were changing, breathier, rising in tenor and tension and he needed it, needed her to feel it too, how the weight could lift.

“Yes,” she was saying, over and over. Voice tight and shaking, trembling under him, hitching and tightening in a way that made his stomach drop, his hips tighten, his mind go blank and 

(oh shit oh shit oh shit too much too much can’t move can’t think can’t breathe can’t fucking…)

He was making a mess of her.

Like he made a mess of everything.

For a moment it all lifted.

In an instant it all came crashing back down.

“Fuck, did you…?” She was looking over her shoulder as he was pulling out, pulling away. Eyes (those eyes, those pretty pretty pretty eyes) still blown dark. Hair unkept. Lips swollen, like she’d been biting at them.

He wanted to push right back into her again. 

He wanted to run. 

“I… shit…” What the fuck do you say to that?

She was turning, rearranging her clothes, and there were things he was supposed to say, feelings he was supposed to be having, but there was no room for them, none, (only shame, infinite room for shame) but still she was there, and her hand was on his cheek. “We have to talk about this, Shane.”

“I know.” It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t a promise either.

“They’re going to miss us at the dance. We need to get back but…” She sighed. Stoked a thumb over his cheek.

(How? How? How did she have space for him, still, with all that was falling and all that was crushing and all that was him?)

The words were all caught up in his throat.

He needed a drink.

She was fixing his tie. Smoothing her hair. Swiping at her lips. Undoing the mess he made.

He wanted to fall to his knees.

“Come on.” She held onto his hand, led him back to the festival.

She had an infinite capacity for love, he realized. He could bask in it. Photosynthesize. Wrap that vine around her and let it grow and grow and grow until eventually it choked out everything around it. Thick and thorny and invasive, winding around her neck, impossible to remove once those roots got deep.

“Your bow tie’s a little crooked.” Emily. Back at the dance. The farmer was off making her rounds. 

He wondered if she could still feel him inside of her. 

“Did you two have fun dancing? You missed the big show.” Em was futzing with his tie, and his arms felt too heavy to bat her away. 

“Fucking hate this festival,” he said. 

“There’s always next year.” She ruffled his hair. 

Shane said nothing. Watched the farmer. Tried to decide if her walk was different. If her shoulders sloped. If she could feel his weight. 

He could feel it.

What he carried.

What pressed in on him.

Like a boulder on his back.

Like teeth sharp on a throat.

Her taste was still there.

It wouldn’t go away.

And Shane had to decide if he could live with the consequences.

You can find a part four here if you're interested. Totally cool if you're not tho.

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