#well shit my file just accidentally got deleted

[fuumiku]

They’re both so lonely. I just want them to autistically traumadump to each other and hug

[0310s]

gently, by your side | jaehyun

members: myung jaehyun x gender neutral reader

genre: college au, angst, comfort, best friends! to ???, more platonic stuff in this one

tags/warnings: extensive discussions of mental health and chronic/mental illness, y/n is not okay. :(

summary: jaehyun finds you after a bad week.

wc: 2.7k

a/n: this fic’s title comes from this lovely song. as someone who’s struggled with both chronic and mental illness, it really takes someone strong and amazing to keep on going, despite everything. most of the dialogue in this comes from my own musings and experiences with mental health. i wrote this for a dear mutual of mine! i hope better days will come for you soon, whenever that may be. meanwhile, i hope this gives you comfort when things are tough! sending lots of love <3 

𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

5 days ago 1:28 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

(y/n) we haven’t seen each other in such a loooong time imy :(( i mean i KNOW it’s just been a couple of days since we last hung out but still!!!!!!! when are we seeing each other again !!!! tell me ur schedule QUICK !!!!

4 days ago 6:33 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

heeeeyyyyyyyyy (with the intention to hang out) heeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy heeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyy reply to meeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!! tell me when ur free pls i miss u :((

3 days ago 11:58 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

hey i didn’t see u at the party today i thought u said u were going last week!!!  also i asked around and people said they haven’t seen u around recently??? and they don’t know what ur up to

2 days ago 2:05 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

heeeyyyy ?????????? did i do smth?????  or are u just really busy w school and work idk either way pls just let me know :(( i won’t bother u if ur rlllyyy busy

10:35 PM sorry if i’m being annoying btw

Yesterday  11:32 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

ok i thought about it reaaaaaallly hard and i don’t think i’ve done anything to make u mad or upset w me??? well aside from that time last last week that u got mad at me for accidentally messing w ur computer and deleting ur work files WHICH IM LIKE REALLY SORRY FOR but i fixed it!!!!! i thought we were good alrd!!! are u still mad at me 4 that ?

1:00 AM (y/n)?

1:28 AM idk  i thought i was ur best friend :(( did smth change???

2:47 AM pls pls reply :(( i know we can talk this out i don’t want us to not be ok

Today  3:00 PM 🐶 cutie puppy i’m coming over.

𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

Sitting up from your bed, your heart thuds in anxiety as you quickly scroll through your chat history with Jaehyun. Your eyes hurt and your brain feels especially foggy, like you’re looking at the world through a particularly cloudy lens. How long did you sleep? The last thing you recall was working on your assignments last night, then choosing to sleep instead when you got overwhelmed. Even then, you slept fitfully. You remember setting an alarm at 9 AM today to continue working, but even as you sat at your desk, you couldn’t type a single sentence on your laptop. Everything felt muddled and it was as if you couldn’t understand anything at all. Even the cups of coffee you drank in desperation was of no use keeping you alert; all it did was make you palpitate.

Then you gave up, went back to bed, and you’re here now. Checking the chat timestamps, you realize you haven’t replied to Jaehyun’s messages in almost a week, which has never happened before—you talk almost everyday, even multiple times a day. Jaehyun’s last message was at 3 PM, when he said he’d come over. One look at your screen shows you it’s already 3:20. If you’ve memorized his schedule right, it takes your best friend thirty minutes to get to your dorm from his Fundamental Maths class. That means you have ten more minutes to get your shit together and clean your mess of a room. 

But right when you’ve mustered the energy to stand up, you hear a series of knocks on your door. That can’t be— “(Y/n), open up, I know you’re in there!” Jaehyun’s voice echoes from outside the door. “I asked your dormmate and she said you haven’t left your room since yesterday, so there’s no use pretending!” Shit, shit, shit! You immediately spring up and hastily fold your blankets and organize your desk, throwing away stray food wrappers and plastic cups. You open your blinds to let some air in, and the bright sunlight makes your head throb even more. 

On your way to the door, you spot yourself in the mirror. There’s no other word for it—you look like utter shit. Your eyebags are dark and prominent, your hair disheveled from tossing and turning in your sleep. You look horrendous, but Jaehyun is persistently knocking on your door, so you have no choice but to fix yourself up as fast as you can. You splash water on your face and smoothen down your hair and open the door—then there’s Jaehyun in all his glory. Your heart clenches seeing him; he looks as handsome as always, his bangs fluffy and soft and his letterman jacket fashionably oversized. He looks nothing like you in your ratty T-shirt with coffee stains and pajama shorts. His hand is halfway raised, positioned to knock at your door (he could and would probably do it all day if he had to). Upon seeing you, he blurts out: “Did I do something?”

Instead of answering him, you open your door wider as an invitation, and Jaehyun takes the hint, stepping into your dorm. Once the door is shut, Jaehyun peers at your messy room and remarks, “Wow. When was the last time you cleaned up? You’re usually not like this.”

You know he didn’t mean it like that, but his comment stings at you all the same. “Sorry, Jaehyun,” you snap, “not everyone can be at 200% energy all the time like you.” At his hurt expression, you backtrack. “Sorry, that was really rude of me.”

“It-It’s fine,” Jaehyun replies confusedly. Then he looks straight at you, eyes pleading. He’s picking at the stray thread hanging from his jacket, a habit you’ve come to known is something he does when he’s nervous. “You know what, I thought about it. For days, really, if I did anything that would make you mad and ignore me. But I couldn’t come up with anything at all. I was really worried when you didn’t reply to me for days on end, especially when we talk everyday. So if I did something, can—can you just tell me? I just want us to be okay.”

Your throat closes up and your heart pounds even faster, making you feel dizzy. You have no idea how to answer him, when all he’s ever seen of you is the perfect student who does everything right, who’s smart and good at what they do without any flaws or exceptions. How would he react if he saw you for who you really were?

The words can’t form in your mouth, and out of frustration at yourself, you tear up. Jaehyun notices this, eyes widening in worry, “(y/n), baby, no, no,” and pulls you into his arms. Almost instantly, the tears cascade down your face and sobs wrack your body. You feel pathetic crying in your best friend’s arms, but Jaehyun just soothes a hand up and down your back as you break down. His other arm is wrapped around your shoulders, and it feels like your anchor when you’re drowning in all your troubles. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he says in a hushed tone, “let it all out.” You grip his jacket even tighter as you bury your face in his chest. 

When was the last time you’ve ever been hugged like this? The last time you’ve ever been truly vulnerable to anyone without that mask of perfection you often don? The last time you felt safe just being yourself? You have no idea. All you know that is in the circle of Jaehyun’s arms, you want to be small and imperfect and yourself just this once.

After your cries die down, Jaehyun clears his throat. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I don’t know what it is I did, but I’m so sorry for hurting you.”

“It’s not you, Jaehyun,” your voice is muffled by both your sniffles and Jaehyun’s chest. You don’t want Jaehyun to get the wrong idea that he’s hurt you in some way because of how broken he sounds thinking he’s done something to make you sad. “It’s just. Me.”

“You? What do you mean?” Jaehyun leads you into your room from the doorway. He’s holding your hand and doesn’t let go even when you both settle at the edge of your bed. His palm is warm and his grip loose enough in case you want to let go; you don’t. While you muster up the courage to speak, your best friend just sits there, waiting patiently. “It’s okay, whatever you say, I’m not going anywhere.” You don’t know that for sure, but him saying that makes you want to be truthful just this once, damn the consequences.

You take a deep breath, focusing on your intertwined fingers. You’re too scared to look at his face because you don’t want to see his reaction. “Jaehyun, what kind of person do you think people see me as?”

“Well…” He takes a moment to think about it. “Someone smart, talented, and who gets stuff done?”

In turn, you let out an resigned exhale. “Well, that’s the image I project. Of someone who’s perfect… someone who does things effortlessly. People think it comes easy to me. But it doesn’t. When people tell me that I didn’t need much effort to get to where I am now, I feel undermined. When I express I’m having a hard time, people brush it off and think I’m just overreacting. Because they think I’m perfect all the time. But honestly…? That’s the farthest thing from the truth."

Glancing up from your hands, you scan your room—your desk is a mess of papers and assignments that you have yet to get to. You can’t tell when the last time you spent time being actually productive when what you’ve been is fatigued out of your mind. When you try to sit at your desk and work, all you feel is difficulty concentrating and processing work and readings. Sleep has also proven to be elusive—no matter how long you lie in bed, you never feel well-rested. Simple actions and decisions require so much energy from you that you undeniably lack. You also constantly compare yourself to others, whom things like these come natural to them. But you’ve kept these feelings of yours secret for a long time—you’re utterly terrified that you’d be undermined for being useless and overly sensitive.   

“(Y/n)?” Jaehyun squeezes your hand, and you turn to meet his eyes. His eyes are sincere and kind. “I-I know I may not be the most empathic person, but I promise I’ll hear you out without judging you. I want to be here for you… and I hope you’ll let me. Please?” 

At this, you spill everything you’ve been feeling the past weeks—months, even—to Jaehyun. You stumble over your words and your breath gets caught in your throat, but he’s there to pat your back and to encourage you to keep going. Without you knowing, tears make their way down your face once again, and Jaehyun uses his other hand to gently brush them away. “It just gets so hard that I want to just. Give everything up. I don’t know what the use of trying so hard is when I see how other people don’t need this much effort to do even the most basic of tasks. It’s just so… unfair.”

When you’re finished with your rant, you don’t know what to expect from Jaehyun—but you’re stunned to see him crying. He’s sniffling and wiping at his eyes furiously. “Why…” You have no idea what he’s about to say, but you brace yourself for the worst. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” he whispers brokenly. “I didn’t know you were having such a difficult time. I feel like such a shitty friend for not even noticing. I’m sorry, (y/n).” Jaehyun’s eyes fill with tears and he starts “I… I thought we were best friends.” The best friends tell each other everything goes unsaid, but you know exactly what he meant.

“I…” You feel awful now for making Jaehyun cry. “You’re just. You just naturally have all this limitless energy. You’re…” Normal. Not like me. “I don’t know how if you were going to take me seriously if I told you what I was going through… There were times I’d see you, and I’d be so disappointed in myself for not being like you. And I was so scared that if I did tell you, I’d be letting you down.”

Jaehyun’s expression grows more miserable at this. “I-I’m sorry, (y/n), I never meant to make you feel unheard. And I never meant for it to feel like you couldn’t tell me about these things.” 

“It-It’s not your fault, Jaehyun,” you protest, but he shakes his head, obviously disappointed in himself.

“No, (y/n), I’m supposed to be your best friend. How stupid can I be if I can’t notice when you’re having a hard time? I didn’t even stop to ask how you’ve been doing because you seemed to be doing fine. But I should’ve known better. I shouldn’t have taken things at face value. I’m such an idiot,” Jaehyun berates himself. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

At his sincere apology, you can’t help but admit it to yourself—you desperately needed Jaehyun’s support as your best friend, but you were too scared to ask for it. And honestly? You felt immensely lonely without his words and presence to comfort you. 

“(Y/n), I hope you know that I see how hard you work. I know your sleepless nights and how much effort you put into every single thing you do. Despite everything you’re going through, you’re always trying to be better than the person you were yesterday, and it’s something I truly admire about you. But I hope you know it’s okay to be imperfect and flawed and to not be okay. I want to be here on your good and bad days. I just wish I could’ve been more vocal about this earlier… I’ve really taken you for granted, huh?” Jaehyun sighs wetly, taking your hand in both of his. He’s still crying; you both are, actually. What a silly pair the two of you make. 

“Thank you for trusting me and sharing all of this. It literally means the world to me,” Jaehyun rambles. “I promise I’ll be a better friend to you, someone you feel safe opening up to about anything, whether that be your achievements or your struggles. And (y/n), if it’s not too much to ask… Could I ask you to be more honest with me in the future?” He stares at you imploringly. “I don’t want you to think you have to go through all of this alone. I want to be here for you the same way you’ve always been there for me… Okay?”

“....Okay. Okay, I’ll try,” you respond softly. “Thank you, Jaehyun. I… I’ve never told anyone about this before. But thank you so much for just listening, and not judging, and accepting me for me…” While you appreciate Jaehyun’s presence at this moment, a new wave of fatigue washes over you with all this emotional vulnerability and talking. “Jaehyun… I’m still feeling really tired, so I might go back to sleep. Sorry, I know you came all the way here to see me, but here I am being shit company,” you apologize regretfully.

“Oh! That’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Jaehyun stands up from your bed to leave. When your fingers slip from each other, you feel an acute loss of warmth—both in your hands and in your heart. He makes his way to the door, slipping on his shoes, and your heart sinks. There’s something you badly want to ask of Jaehyun, but you’re too much of a coward to tell him what you truly want. You don’t want to be on your own right now, but you’d probably be asking too much of him. Accepting your fate, you settle in bed, attempting to take a nap so restless you’re sure will be of no help to your exhaustion.

However, Jaehyun himself stops in the doorway. He turns back around, a distraught look on his face. “(Y/n)... I don’t want to assume, but are you sure you want to be alone right now?” he begins. “I mean, we just had this really heavy talk. Can… Can I keep you company? I promise I’m great at cuddles—that’s what all my other friends say anyway when I annoy them with my hugs.”

When you nod, that’s all it takes for Jaehyun to shuck off his shoes, strip his jacket, and climb into bed with you. With your ear against his steady heartbeat and his comforting arm around you, you’re asleep in no time. It’s the best you’ve ever slept in months.

[youtappedout]

y'all wanna read something crazy?

my company's finance team accidentally sent me an excel file copy of everyone's salaries. wild shit. like I can't believe it happened to me lol.

so we have this compliance test thing that we do annually and I'm one of the employees that hasn't answered it and since I wfh, I always try to set aside 30 mins to exercise and head straight to shower. that happened today. when I got back to my desk I saw this email that said 'compliance' on the file name, and so I downloaded it without fully opening it thinking it's a thorough reminder about answering the test. I clicked on the file preview (we use Outlook) without opening a new tab, and there I saw.. everything....

it had our CEO's salary, the VPs, software engineers, my team (I'm in marketing), and all shit like gov't contributions as well. I was sooo fucking taken aback by what I was seeing. the team member who sent it called me IMMEDIATELY and asked if I saw it and urged me to delete while showing my screen. she also tried to recall the email.

I felt soo bad for her because I can hear her voice in fear, cc'd in the email is our CEO too btw!! LIKE I'M THE ONLY NON-LEGAL AND FINANCE TEAM MEMBER IN THAT MAIL I JUST 😭😭😭 after that call I deleted the copy I downloaded earlier, even in my device. she called the second time to check my onedrive - to make sure nothing's been saved or whatever, she kept apologizing about having to call and ask me to show my screen which I'm totally fine with. I asked what happened and how'd she end up including my name, turns out there's someone else with the same first 3 letters as mine 😵‍💫

so yeah. it's fucking bonkers to see the amount discrepancies among people's salaries, no matter the job title, tenure, skillset and stuff. also in my country it's not really ideal to discuss salaries... hence why this is such a big deal to us and them. I'm still in shock and let me tell you, I think I can do better with what I'm making now to be honest!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS WAS SUCH AN EPIC END TO MY WEEK BYE!!!!!!!!!! ;-;

[rockybloo]

I accidentally deleted the whole sketch layer for a Beanstalked page before reflexively closing the file so I had to reopen it and redraw it and I think it was a big sign of character development for me because the last time I had a slip up like that was back in high school and I got so mad at myself I had to change all my statuses on Skype to "Do not message me I am seething" while redrawing the page.

Today I just went "oh...well shit" and just redrew the page before popping off to go take my nap.

[josiebelladonna]

damn.

how’s everyone doing?

okay. these few days have been… interesting to say in the least.

first off, the house: the backstory, in case you don’t know, is that the property taxes here had defaulted about five years ago. to make a long convoluted complicated 95% of it i can’t talk about due to legality story short, they defaulted… and turns out, it wasn’t even our fault. someone dropped the ball somewhere, it totally wasn’t even our doing or our responsibility for that matter. but my mom and i looked at each other, we looked at what was due, and my mom bit the bullet and pretty much used all of her savings to cover it—by the skin of our teeth, too, like the company got the check today. she’s only got about 200 dollars left in her savings account after that, but luckily for us, it’s only a once-a-year thing (meaning we don’t have to think about this again for a full year), and we’ve been through difficult times before (read: we know how to pinch pennies in our sleep) and it’s only for about a month, which is when her job starts with a new assignment.

second, my mental health. it tanked the other day, and there were a couple of things that triggered it: number one was the fact that i kept getting asked about money over on instagram. people asking me about commissions and “dealing” and what have you—i think most of them were ai generated, but who the fuck knows. it’s a deep wound that only those who grew up poor will understand—compounded with the fact that i have a very dysfunctional, very unsupportive, borderline abusive family; on its own, it’s enough to push my buttons. plus—say what you want. every artist goes through this. i’m following a bunch of artists on instagram, good artists, too, some of these people are excellent… but i couldn’t help but compare myself to them. it’s also kind of… clique-y, i’d say? kind of like how tumblr is now, but it’s actually worse because you have art involved, something that should unite all of us. tumblr… as obnoxious as this place is now, i do see where it’s coming from. but within the art community? that just doesn’t seem right to me. when you take an art class, you’re going in there to rest your soul. tap into yourself and learn some techniques while you’re at it. nobody is picasso out the gate, so you hone your own skill and your own style all the while, so it’s like a leveling of the playing field (and no, showing the biggest piece of shit to the teacher doesn’t count). but this is uncomfortable. and it’s exhausting, too, like how the hell can you people be posting to your story several times every hour? i post three to mine in one sitting and i feel like i’m overloading everyone. and, i was getting comments from people who were following me years ago asking me, “you’re still drawing?” like they were shocked that i’m still doing this. i saw that as a bad sign, like… you know when you, a fan of something or someone, doesn’t seem to realize that the thing you’re fan of is still going, that’s usually a sign of things gone wrong. and i had accidentally rehashed some old wounds that are kinda “same ol’” status at this point: my sexuality, my appearance, my body, my not feeling good enough. so… i woke up one morning, looked at my art, and just started crying. all of that pushed me over the edge and it genuinely made me want to quit. i thought for sure i was finished. i had to get away. i have to be alone for a while.

(so, if i seem a.w.o.l. over on instagram, you know what happened: i just deleted the app from my tablet, i didn’t delete my account)

third, i looked at my art and i wondered if i just needed a makeover for it. i have a new little project going right now made by some of the techniques i’ve seen on instagram. i won’t reveal it until it’s done, though. it’s kind of abstract, kind of odd, kind of… well, you’ll see it. as for the “deleted all my art files from my computer” tidbit, it didn’t delete the backup files, so i clicked on those and salvaged every single one, every single one. i’ll admit, it was weirdly freeing to have all that free space on my thumb drive.  and as for neptune’s spear… i was thinking of posting it today or tuesday, but… eh. i think she can wait a while.

[rocket-sith]

Also going back to the Usenet/AOL era of X-Files shipping, generally Shipper, in the context of fandom discussions, meant MSR (Mulder/Scully romance) by default. If you were into a different ship, you had to specify, and if it was F/F or M/M (Mulder/Skinner for example), it was slash. Mulder/Skinner slash, or Scully/Any Other Woman slash (OC or not), whatever - it was slash, and you were into whatever/whatever slash.

Antis were called NoRoMos, short for No Romance, and this phrase too pertained specifically to anti-MSR. That being said, the level of hate over ship rivalry (or much of any rivalry) wasn't seen in fandom to near the degree it is in current fandom. (Save for the Joel vs Mike fights in the MST3K fandom, but that wasn't any sort of ship wank at the time, and it's also another matter ENTIRELY.)

There was definitely an X-Files shipper vs NoRoMo rivalry, and definitely some heated arguments, and Shippers would go NUTS when we knew an upcoming episode was written by Vince Gilligan (yes THAT Vince Gilligan) because he was infamous for dishing both hilarity (X-Cops, Unusual Suspects) and the shippiest shippy episodes that ever shipped with ALL the UST (Pusher, Small Potatoes), and some beautiful unholy hybrids thereof (Bad Blood), and the NoRoMos never knew if they were gonna get either extreme or just something really cool in the middle.

I don't recall seeing suicide bait and threats against fic authors from NoRoMos being the norm or even common though, and here's why:

The threats (not suicide bait, but definitely nasty-grams from corporate lawyers and "delete your page or else" type threats) were all coming from Fox, and they were leveled equally at all corners of fandom, trying to shut ALL of us up and all of us down.

We didn't have AO3, we had the Gossamer Archive, dedicated exclusively to all types of XF fanfic. It got takedown notices and DDOS attacks on the regular. So did X-Files fan pages on GeoCities and AOL Member sites and whatnot - fanfic, fan art, digital art, fan-run forum sites - forget the opposing shipper, Fox was the ultimate Anti. Anti their own fans celebrating what we loved, no matter what form we did it in.

So yeah, you had situations were a fan would panic over Fox's latest escapade in sending out copyright bullshit C&D letters to fan sites and fic archives, a person would frantically try and mirror a site before Fox could take it down, so a well meaning fan would accidentally DDOS the site they were trying to save and it created artifical strife within the fandom.

This shit runs deep. We used to hide huddled by faction in small scattered corners of the internet (AOL message boards, email listserves, IRC channels) or bonded together in large numbers, proudly and shamelessly as one fandom (Gossamer, a.t.x-f/a.t.x-f.c) that occasionally gave each other noogies, but dammit we're all in this together, waiting for the hand of the overlords to bring down its next bullshit copyright C&D flyswatter against a fic writer or an artist or a digital collage photoshopper or whatever, so we put blue EFF ribbons on our pages, and we used HTML to black out our fansites in protest long before Dark Mode was ever a twinkle in Agent Mulder's TrustNo1 eye, and we organized counter campaigns to advocate for the right of fandom itself to exist.

Shipper wars? Oh no. We've got bigger fish to fry. Fandom will live on, dammit. You can come for us, you can TRY, but not today CSM Satan, not today.

Edit to add: Ya know, this is weirdly/hilariously similar to both the Mirror Universe as it's presented in Discovery, and the quasi-mirror Q-niverse in Picard, where all these different, normally-warring species and factions had banded together to form a rebellion against the Terrans. Fox was the Terrans. That's kinda how things tend to work socially and historically - the enemy of my enemy, etc - but seeing it play out in fandom space is the ultimate trope of life and art imitating one another.

every few months some annoying motherfucker makes a post asking why it's called 'spirk' instead of 'spork' or 'kock' and the short, easy answer is: spirk is already the silly ship name, the og ship name is 'k/s' and the og og ship name is 'the premise', because spirk is a ship so old that it was around before ship names were invented. now never come into my house again.

[mia-tiny]

『 Enemy Wooyoung & Office Sex 』 | KTB ‘22

⇒ pairing: j. wooyoung x fem!reader

⇒ smut, hate sex, cocky enemy coworker wooyoung, office sex, unprotected sex (big no no), light spanking, dirty talk, use of “slut” and “whore,” questionable workplace activities

⇒ word count: 2.1k

💕 view my masterlist here

🖤 view my Kinktober ‘22 masterlist here

⇒ author’s note: finally got to watch YTC in Busan on rerun last night and Min Yoongi unalived me with every breath x.x. Also thinking about continuing this story after Kinktober if people enjoy it~

To say you are pissed off is an understatement. Your blood is boiling inside your veins and it wouldn’t be surprising if steam was truly coming out of your ears, all because of your fucking coworker Wooyoung. You two entered the company around the same time, so you’ve always been competing against each other for promotions and recognition, but beyond that, Wooyoung is also just a straight up asshole.

From shooting down your ideas to “accidentally” deleting some of your important files, he has almost done everything he can to fuck you over just so he can swoop in and save the day. And the worst part is that everybody else absolutely adores him. No one else sees or understands the shit he gives you, which only makes you look like a jerk when you start complaining about him.

Today, however, you have reached the breaking point.

Your day actually started really well. Your bus was on time, your coffee tasted just right, and you already had your project proposal finished and ready for presenting tomorrow. It wasn’t until twenty minutes ago that your mood did a full 180, and all because of that smug son of a bitch.

Wooyoung had apparently asked management if he could show his project proposal a day early only to then get up and present exactly what you had put together for tomorrow. Through the absolute shock that clouded your brain, you realized that he must have accessed your work through the shared folders used by the team and decided to entirely obliterate your last shred of sanity.

Your fists were shaking in rage throughout the never-ending ordeal, unable to speak up since you would only make yourself look worse. The fact that he kept glancing at your furious expression and smirking definitely did not help either. As soon as the meeting ended, you roughly grabbed his wrist, muttered an exasperated “we need to talk,” and dragged him away to one of the more secluded, and rarely used, conference rooms.

Now with him staring at you expectantly, you can’t even think of the words to describe your anger. You want to curse him out. You want to hit him. Honestly, you even want to get him fired from the company. But you are frozen solid in a state of absolute fury.

“Did you just bring me in here to stare at me? I mean, I know I’m attractive, but I’ve got work to attend to.” His arrogance never ceases to astound you, provoking your dramatically loud scoff and rolling eyes.

“You stole my proposal, jackass.” You cross your arms in a way that makes your cleavage even more prevalent, which Wooyoung takes immediate notice to, but he quickly regains his composure.

“You’re the one who put it in a shared folder. I don’t see how it’s my fault that I stumbled upon it,” he explains with a shrug, his nonchalant attitude making you fume even more.

“You know what, I’ve been relatively patient with you and your stupid fucking games, but I’ve had it! You think you’re all that because you’re handsome, people like you, and you can get away with shit by schmoozing your way around, but you are just a self-centered prick!” 

You expect Wooyoung to yell back, make a scene, taunt you for being so upset… But he just smiles as if this is going exactly how he planned. He takes a relaxed step towards you, prompting you to maintain your distance by backing up the same amount.

“So you think I’m handsome?” he purrs, the look in his eyes turning into that of a hunter about to pounce on its prey.

He continues strolling closer despite your attempt to back away, soon bumping against the edge of the conference table and having nowhere else to go. Determined to keep him from intimidating you, you collect yourself and fight to ignore the quickening rhythm of your heart.

“If that’s really all you heard, then I don’t know what else to say to you. Just stay away from me.”

He takes one final step to close the space between your bodies, your hands instinctively pressing against his chest as he leans his hips against yours, the bulge in his pants making your eyes widen in shock. An indisputable blush rushes to your cheeks as butterflies erupt in your stomach. You’ve never been this close to him before, close enough to feel the warmth of his body against yours or the lean muscles underneath his shirt. As angry as you are, his proximity has you feeling heated in a very different way from your usual disposition.

“Are you sure you want me to stay away?” He takes hold of one of your wrists and glides your touch down the curves of his abs. “Tell me that you really want me to stop, and I will.”

He finally settles your hand over his hard cock, squeezing your fingers around it so you can feel how big he is. Your legs subconsciously press together as you notice yourself getting wetter, your pussy aching for stimulation. You glance into his hungry eyes and the final semblance of rational thought that was left in your brain gets tossed to the curb.

The desire he has awakened in you takes over as you abruptly attach your lips with his, enveloping him in a frenzied kiss. He takes a few seconds to respond, but soon matches your salacious enthusiasm. His hand is then slipping under the waistband of your skirt and panties to rub at your clit, causing you to moan into his mouth.

Startled by the volume of your own voice, you momentarily remember that you are both at work and definitely should not be using the conference room for this kind of meeting. You pull back from Wooyoung’s face by a few inches, having to hold his head still with your hands when he attempts to lean in for more.

“Wait. What if someone comes in here?” you question in a sudden panic. There will be no way to escape the pink slip if you get found in this position. Wooyoung, however, seems entirely at ease.

“No one comes in here. Besides, the door is locked anyway.”

The feeling of his fingertips caressing your sensitive clit has you weak in the knees, your mind unable to keep a single train of thought as he uses your moment of hesitation to tug you back into his kiss. The second he does, you are once again wrapped up in overwhelming desire.

Wooyoung soon removes his hand from your heat, but before you have time to fuss about it, he is whipping you around and pushing your front half down against the table, his erection poking against your ass. You wiggle against him teasingly, causing him to let out a deep groan.

“Look at you, going around acting like you hate me just to let me bend you over a desk like a good little slut,” he sneers before aggressively tugging your skirt up so that it rests around your waist and pulling your underwear down just enough to expose your soaking cunt. The jingling of his belt lets you know he is undressing as well.

“Just shut up and fuck me already. I still despise you.”

Your smart-ass remark is immediately followed by a loud gasp as he shoves his entire cock deep inside you, stretching you out perfectly. Wooyoung chuckles at your reaction, knowing he clearly has the upper hand in this situation.

“Even if you hate me, your pussy sure doesn’t,” he purrs as your hole flutters around him in an attempt to accommodate his girth.

You have to clamp your own hand over your mouth to control your pitiful cries as he begins plowing into you from behind, his hands occasionally laying a sharp slap across your bottom that has you worrying if people can hear. The pleasure is too great to tell him to stop, though.

He roughly grabs you by the hips, using his strength to bounce you back on his dick in time with his sharp thrusts. The filthy sound of his hips smacking against your ass cut through the silence of the secluded room, a rhythm complemented by the melody of desperate pants and moans.

‘Of course he’s an expert at this as well,’ you think to yourself despite the thick fog of pleasure clouding your mind. ‘How annoying.’

A particularly hard thrust catches you by surprise and you unwillingly let out a piercing yelp that has Wooyoung grinning with pride. He has always longed to bend you over and turn you into a moaning mess on his cock, mostly just to prove how much power he has over you above all else.

When he had first noticed the way you were constantly pitting yourself against him and trying to outdo him in everything, he had been irked by the unnecessarily competitive behavior, but just assumed that you were a hard-working perfectionist. It didn’t take long, however, before he became increasingly frustrated with your dirty looks and dismissive attitude that were always directed only at him.

The fact that you were so uptight and so bothered by everything he did just made him want to irritate you more, the sight of you getting so worked up becoming his favorite form of entertainment. And what better way to rile you up than to have you submitting to him, giving into your own desires, and taking his cock despite the risk of getting caught in your own workplace?

At least, that was his mindset until he stepped into this room.

Even though he refused to show it, the way you dragged him in here and finally let out everything you’ve been thinking got him heated for you in a very real way that he hadn’t noticed before. And now, with your body splayed out and pussy clenching around him, he can’t help but worry that he is about to become addicted to you.

He quickly clears such thoughts from his mind, though, saving that dilemma for when he isn’t balls deep in your needy pussy.

With his attention recentered, he picks up the pace of his movements, the table scraping against the tile floor with each powerful snap of his hips. Every time his cock slams against your g-spot, you involuntarily let out a whimper. The knot in your core tenses tighter and tighter by the second, your climax threatening to hit any minute.

Feeling you clench around his dick, and not being able to withstand the pleasure much longer either, Wooyoung focuses all his energy on pushing you over the edge. “Go ahead and cum on my cock. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody what a shameless whore you are for me.”

You should be insulted, but his filthy mouth is the final straw that has you constricting around his cock mercilessly as your orgasm erupts like fireworks in your body, every inch of your skin tingling with pleasure. Of course, the vice grip on his dick is more than enough to have Wooyoung moaning wantonly as he stills and cums deep in your pussy.

Neither of you have the energy to move for a couple minutes, but Wooyoung eventually pulls out and tucks himself away before helping redress you properly as well. He assists you back into a standing position and spins you around so that you are face to face. When you glance up at his blushed cheeks and sweat-glistened brow, you get shy in your post-orgasm clarity and look back down to the ground, not sure what to feel or say now.

“Y/N,” he calls more gently than ever before, causing you to gather your courage and meet his soft gaze. “Do you really hate me?”

His expression teeters on the edge of sadness, your heart panging as you register the first true moment of vulnerability he’s ever shown you. In this moment, you can’t bring yourself to feel the same fury that consumed you not long ago. Your emotions are now all fuddled and your brain isn’t quite working right, but you may be starting to see him in a different light.

“I don’t know…” you mumble with honest uncertainty.

He nods minutely with a conflicted exhale before taking a step back, leaving a normal amount of space between you that somehow feels like miles now.

“Well… Let me know when you figure it out.”

With that, he strolls past you and out of the conference room. You are frozen in place as your brain tries to process what the fuck just happened and why it has left you with such mixed emotions.

The only thing you are sure of is that, at this rate, Wooyoung is going to be the death of you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Taglist: @minkysmilk @annaflwrs @han8ul @whatudowhennooneseesyou

[withered--s0uls]

Adds to list of ideas

Hmmmm. It getting Daytime so they're stuck with them for the time being

We get a range of

- IC!Uzi after the two Ns arrive being like "welcome back also hi" - proceeds to take Ray from Rexim and announcing she's putting the baby to sleep. Then when she's done with that she locks herself in her workspace bc she got work to catch up on after watching 8 Kids by herself.

- GD!N probably picking up on her quickly barricading herself after his arrival so god forbid he now thinks she hates him

- the kids proceeding to try and bother him with a ton of questions (trying to find out the differences and similarities between their dad and Beanies dad)

- "Guess which kid was not named by Uzi"(IC!N pointing at the 4 code related kids, 3 are named after guns.) "Why did you pick Raven?"(GD!N) "Egg."(Raven) --- alternate ending being "Why did you pick Beanie?" "Fair enough"

- Raven getting put into "timeout" (thrown over their dads shoulder like a bag of potatoes) for actually trying to bite GD!N and probably scaring the shit out of him with the damn Solver teeth (even if they're filed down it's still kinda obvious)

- Circling back to Ic!Uzi, my homegirl overworked herself until her battery is on a whopping 3%. She leaves the workspace and kinda just collapses bc her battery hits 0% (Ic!N being like "not again")

- Rexim, due to not really using his visor optics as eyes, coincidentally looking as if he's staring straight at GD!Uzi before like GD!Nuzi take note of the fact his headband optics are the only ones actually in use Idk I think it'd be funny bc he does kinda just look like he's staring at random shit to people who don't know about his broken main camera

- Annika being made to apologize after saying GD!N looks mentally ill, he says its fine (spoiler alert: it isn't, she made it very obvious to him that he isnt hiding stuff well)

Now, should I be nice and have it be IC!Ns day off so GD!N isn't left alone with a bunch of kids or should I be an ass and have the poor mentally ill man somehow deal with the kids of IC!Nuzi whilst IC!Uzi is passed out and recharging and IC!N is off at work.

I mean the three Teens at least can look after themselves and probably would help (to various degrees of actual helpfulness) before & after school. But that still leaves him with 3 Toddlers/Pre-Schoolers and a Baby he doesn't know a lot about on top of his own daughter, one of the toddlers/Pre-Schoolers being dead set on pouncing him like a cat and biting him and another trying to act mature and like an adult and failing horribly bc she's like 5.

It would be kinda funny if he had to watch them and then when Ic!N comes back from work GD!N is like "what do you MEAN you run a Daycare on top of this?!" Bc like if Ic!N isn't there to keep his kids insanity in check then their curiosity and unhingedness will get the better of them.

(I just accidentally deleted a whole paragraph I'll go commit a murder)

Like? Without their dad keeping the kids I'm check we get

- Orita having inherited Uzis unhinged side, so one moment she will be sweet like N in Canonverse, the next she will smile wildly with hollowed optics and will talk about the time she chopped off her bodies original worker forearms to replace them with self made DD forearms. Even worse she might ask if GD!N wants to see the weapons she built from scratch (only for her 5yo adopted sister to be like "You aren't allowed to pull out your weapons without your mom or dad or V present!")

- Raven probably actually biting him when he's distracted and then after proceeding to cover him in stickers like Orita & they did to Beanie. Except Raven doesn't ask GD!N first, they just suddenly do it (it's even the glitter stickers, someone save GD!N from the IC!Kids) -- note them actually continuously trying to bite him (without breaking metal notably!) as they are around him more and then covering him in stickers technically means they like him so 😭 that's a win ig? (If they didn't like him theyd not hesitate to break metal)

- Rexim blasting music whilst doing his homework, how does his mom not wake up? Robo-Fod knows how. Probably her body being in forceful shutdown until she's fully recharged

- Annika saying whatever comes to mind without thinking (she accidentally says stuff she shouldn't again)

- Olivia and Zagi being the only ones not causing problems despite being literally 5-6 years old. Olivia trying to act mature and Zagi just following their dads order of "behave and be nice to the other N" Zagi probably brings him a dog plushy or something if they notice him being stressed from having 8 kids running around (Typically how they help their parents with stress is cuddles, but they don't know if GD!N is comfortable with that so they just give him a plushy)

- Ray is a baby the worst he can do is cry because he wants to be held

Eventually at least Raven would get all their energy out of their system and fall asleep, the IC toddlers/pre-schoolers *do* still take Naps because like, Raven is a ball of chaos, Zagi is just constantly slightly eepy & Olivia finds comfort in it.

- Also whenever IC!Uzi does wake up and IC!N does kinda just pull her aside and tell her he picked up on GD!N seemingly beating himself up (IC!N may suck at math but at least he can read body language) I feel some awkward exchange happens where she's just like "I like didn't want to make you uncomfortable or upset simply by being around. Idk I thought it'd probably mess with your head" like IC!Khan when she was younger got visibly upset seeing other families with kids where both parents are still around so that kinda made her come the the conclusion that ESPECIALLY with her being an alternate version of GD!Ns dead wife he probably would be upset seeing her and god forbid seeing her and IC!N being affectionate with each other like the moments she is around him pre passing out it's kinda obvious she is trying to act different from how she'd normally act, mainly with her hands like twitching towards her partner but then pulling back. She over the years did become way more comfortable with pda and actually started initiating it more often.

Also I just whilst typing realized that IC!Nuzi are likely a good chunk older than GD!N just bc of picking a point in the timeline where they already have all kids lmao. Like the twins are 15. The twins were uploaded to their Untrained Networks between episodes 4 and 5 and in this AU a good amount of time passes between them.

Those mfs are between 35-40 if not older 💀tbf in my take on drone ages that's still very young for them bc I feel they have a lifespan longer than humans but still.

Anyways back to me taking another nap or something idk I'm rambling nonsense into the void

Oh look it's another GD crossover

Ghost Drone AU - @electrozeistyking

You already saw all this art but shhh HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

This originally started out with me just wanting to draw Beanie interacting with the Intertwined Codes Kids but then I added some extra stuff lol.

If you're a reader of Intertwined Codes, this kinda sorta spoils future stuff bc only the twins have been mentioned in the Draft/Teaser fic but oh well. You have been warned.

IC!Uzi wouldn't like actually meet GD!N bc they'd kinda decide that "hey, let's not have the widowed man see an alternate version of his wife that actually got live." simply out of respect kinda?? So she would stick around at home with the kids whilst IC!N goes out to look for Beanies Dad after their kids drag her to them lmao.

So yeah she doesn't necessarily know the extent of the mans depression, the kids just mentioned there only being a dad so she just specifically asks about GD!N in this doodle

IC!N would quickly pick up on GD!N not being completely okay, even without being told any details. So he probably would end up sitting him down to talk on their way back to the IC!Doorman families place, wanting to help if he can in any way. (He runs a Daycare and tries to also be a support to any parent that needs it, so I feel he out of habit would lean into trying to do that with GD!N)

More/The kids under the Cut otherwise the post looks so long rip

I will go over each of these one by one (can'tdo close ups bc 10 image limit, I'll reblog this in a second with the close ups.)

Left are the Code-Related Nuzi kids, right are the adopted ones.

Code related kids

Zagi:

Not much to say, I'm still working out their personality - they're maybe 2-3 years older than Beanie, so they aren't too far apart in age. :)

Orita:

She's the sibling who started the trend of putting stickers on her siblings, so she DEFINITELY would do the same with Beanie.

She also probably originally was going to show her how to build a weapon, but her parents promptly stopped that lmao .

She would think it's really cool that Beanie has a custom core icon & in general is completely customized from the start! She herself was originally put into a regular worker body (just with the tail and headband being custom made by her mom), she had to build the DD forearms herself. She also has a sticker of the DD icon on her core, covering the WD icon :3

Rexim:

At this point he has enough siblings to be past the "ew a little kid" phase, so luckily Beanie gets spared that. His main camera is damaged, he only really uses his headband optics to look around, so he would kinda just look as if he's staring past her a lot. But bc of the obvious cracks in his visor I feel she would pick up on the fact he's not actually ignoring her.

Also he definitely would just play music to her, because IC!Uzi kinda always has music on whilst working in her workspace he kinda picked up some of her taste in music (Hence he's playing the same song that Uzi is shown to have been listening to in Ep7)

Raven:

First up THANK YOU Zeisty for helping me brainstorm silly stuff for them. They're a little ball of chaos now and I love them.

Anyways.

They would join Orita in bedazzling Beanie, and then they'd start talking about bird facts and also try to get Beanie to talk about her interests.

(Their height difference isnt 100% accurate bc halfway through drawing this I changed the IC timeline, making Raven about the same age as Zagi instead of them being a teen, so I kinda had to manually try and semi-fit their heights lol)

Adopted Kids

Ray:

Nothing to say. He's a baby. Tho whilst I was outlining this one I had to giggle because of how big he is in Beanies hands. She's so tiny 😭💕 /affectionate

Annika:

Oh boy. Ann.

Annika is the eldest kid & was adopted a while before Zagi was coded / whilst the parents were organizing the code copies for Zagi

She does NOT know how to talk to other kids. Never did. It made her stick out at the orphanage wing because she just avoided everyone. And it is very chaotic when Olivia and Ray first show up, because Ann's only idea of talking to other Drones is "well you got to be relatable" so she brings up the siblings dead parents bc like, her code parents are dead too. Both pairs dying to DDs. So yeah she probably would be the first, if not only one, in the whole household to just bring up GD!Uzi. She would do it like it's nothing either.

IC!Uzi would promptly get her to stop and sit her down having a conversation about "what did N and I say about trying to connect on that topic?"

Like IC!Uzi would actually feel really bad about it despite Beanie not knowing her mom. Bc she herself obviously didn't remember IC!Nori growing up but still didn't like the topic.

Olivia:

Olivia, as I said, was greeted with the topic of dead parents by Annika as well. So she probably would kinda interfere when IC!Uzi goes to sit Ann down to talk.

She would feel the need to apologize for the older girls behavior (which Ann would apologize for herself later too ofc) and would try to get Beanie to go play something together whilst IC!Uzi sorts that whole situation out.

She's also the closest to Beanies age probably, just was forced to mature bc of what happened to her parents, despite being taken in by Nuzi shortly after. She still obviously acts like a kid tho when comfortable, so I feel she would kinda ease up around Beanie and actually act more like a 4-5 year old around her.

Bonus? Bonus!

Needless to say Beanie would return home covered in stickers & hairpins (Orita & Raven have more than enough of those, they'd just let Beanie keep some)

RIP GD!N having to get her out of those stickers once they're back home

Also, for the "*humming*" variation of the picture I blame @k1k0oftheworld. Kiko was in vc with me when I was talking about how Beanie would be covered in stickers when she gets home, and saw the doodles as well.

He proposed the following scenario after seeing Rexim show Beanie IC!Uzis playlist:

Beanie humming dead batteries song & GD!N having a breakdown bc it reminds him of GD!Uzi

I do not take accountability for this, I was going to spare the poor widowed man.

(I scrapped the idea of him not knowing ab the IC!Doorman family and him getting a mini heart attack when Beanie goes "I met Mom today" in favor of him and IC!N meeting & talking - I WANTED TO SPARE HIS POOR HEART)

@k1k0oftheworld you owe him money for a therapy session now /silly

Anyways that's it, I'll put the close ups in the reblog like I said 👍

[bonky-n-steeb]

𝐵𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐸

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝚃𝚆𝙾

𝘿𝘼𝙍𝙆!𝘽𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙔 𝘽𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙀𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 | 𝙈𝙊𝘽!𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙓 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬:  Your life is as good as it gets. The perfect husband, the perfect daughter, the perfect job. But what you are unaware is that your husband is a deadly assassin and your long-lost friend, now a fearsome mob boss is hell bent on getting you back. But what you don’t know can't hurt you, right?

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦:  psychological disorder, PTSD, domestic abuse, yandere, obsession, violence, cursing. If you find any of this triggering please DNI. Also inform me if I left something out.

ᴛʜɪs ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, sᴏ ᴀʟʟ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ

My previous account was deleted so I’ll be posting the stories again. I’ll be changing this one, so yeah.

Inform me if y’all wanna be tagged!

You stared at the ticking clock, counting the seconds for his return, while Iris played with her stuffed tiger that her dada had bought for her. Her father was finally coming home after serving for a really long time in the military. Bucky was everything you had wanted and more. 

Though you both had a small and cute wedding when you were way too young, it still was one of the best days of your life. Since the day you had met him, he had been hell bent on joining the army as he somehow felt the need to protect people after what had happened to his father. So, after serving his first term, while you were still a second-year graduate student, he had proposed and you had accepted without wasting a second.  

Soon you had found yourself pregnant, during your pregnancy, he had been there for your every beck and call. You still remembered his face when Iris was born; it was filled with such adoration and love, you knew you wouldn’t have to worry about anything. Iris was literally the female version of her dad, her cute nose, her lips and most importantly her blue eyes; her eyes had played a small role in naming her.

Having a kid and completing your medical residency had been tough, but whenever Bucky was home, he took care of all the housework and kept Iris busy for as long as possible. Just one thing which you didn’t like was all this time he spent away from home and the immense risk that came along with being on active duty. But he wasn’t just your Bucky, was he, he was Sgt. Barnes, too.  

But now as you sat staring at the clock, you feared that when he returned, Bucky wouldn't be the same man he was. While on duty, there had been an explosion and he had lost his arm. Hearing his voice on the phone was enough to tell you that he was broken. You were waiting to take him in your arms and tell him that it would be fine.

Just then the bell rang and you quickly got up and unlocked the door. And there he was, his eyes without their usual luster, filled with unshed tears. As Iris ran towards him, he quickly scooped her up in his right arm. “dada! I missed you s’much” she said kissing his face. You wondered whether she didn’t notice or was simply ignoring his missing arm after you gave her a little ‘talk’ about it. “I missed you too Rissie! I love you my little princess!” he said smothering her with kisses. “I'm a Queen!” she exclaimed. “Alright your majesty. Now may I enter your palace and meet my wife?” Iris pretended to think and then exclaimed a yes.  

“Hey, don’t cry” he said as he dropped Iris down. You hadn't even noticed that you were crying. You quickly wrapped him in your arms and he held you tight, fearing that you might slip away. You both didn’t speak for a long time, you were too busy being buried in each other's neck, but then you felt the moisture collect on your shoulder. As you let go, you realized his dam had broken and he was crying too.  

“I love you Bucky bunny” you said playfully. Somehow long back, you had come up with this nickname while watching Looney Tunes; your magnificent brain had somehow morphed Bugs Bunny into Bucky bunny. He pretended to hate it saying it sounded like some porn stars name, and therefore you teased him even more. “I love you too.” he replied staring deep into your soul.

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

As you both retired to your bedroom after ensuring Iris was fast asleep, you simply laid in bed without talking. Your hands were quietly exploring the same planes of his body you had travelled a million times over. You hesitated to touch his arm at first, fearing whether he was comfortable with it or not. But as you slowly began to trace the scars, he let out a long breath.  

You wished he didn’t have to suffer this; you wished all went to the way it was previously; you wished that his eyes shone just as brightly as they did before. But that didn’t mean you loved him any less now. Though throughout the day he pretended to be just fine, you knew he wasn’t even close to being fine.  

“Are you going to leave me?” he finally broke the silence. You couldn’t help but give him a confused expression, why would he ask that? “You don’t have to pretend. Not with me. Just say and I'll go. I don’t want to be a burden to you... ” you shut him up by kissing him. “I am not leaving you Buck. I’m gonna stick with you like an octopus.” you said chuckling. “Buck, we’ll go through everything and anything if we are together. I just want you to be happy. We'll make it work; we will find a way. And trust me when I say I love you more than anything.”

You spent the entire night, tangled in each other, telling him how much you loved and cherished him.

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

You were tired and your back was aching after performing a long surgery. As you opened the door, you were greeted with the smell if your favorite dish being cooked in the house. As you walked straight to the kitchen you were stunned to see Bucky somehow managing to cook with Iris sitting on the kitchen counter. Though the kitchen was a mess, you weren't going to complaint, all you could see was the blinding happiness on his face.

“Look who is back! Guess what mama bear?” Bucky said joyously. You wondered what was the reason behind his joy. “Daddy is gonna get his arm back!” Rissie exclaimed happily. This wasn’t news to you though. You had talked to Bucky about getting a prosthetic arm and he hadn't been half this excited. Seeing your confusion Bucky responded “Well, I got a call this morning. They are not only giving me my job back but giving me a cool new arm. I'll be on duty again!”  

You weren't sure whether to be happy or sad. You were euphoric about Bucky’s job and arm but at the same time you were worried for his life. “That’s amazing Buck!” you hugged him tightly as Iris slipped between you two. Your eyes were filled with happy tears. He was happy and that’s all that mattered right now.

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

FOUR YEARS LATER

You finally had a holiday from your hectic schedule as a surgeon. Iris was off to school and after some pushing you had persuaded Bucky to go get groceries. You wondered what had happened to Bucky. Something had changed after he got that arm, rather everything had changed. He wasn’t lively anymore, he got irritated at small things, stared off absently into space not responding to anything, he constantly looked behind his back, nor did he laugh at any of your jokes, you missed his laughter and that's what hurt you the most.  

Not to mention the horrid dead blank stare he gave you some days, intently looking at your every move like a predator, that thing scared the shit out of you. In the past two years not once you and Bucky had accepted Thor’s dinner invitations. You didn’t have many friends, you just had one, Thor. He was with you since your residency and you both worked together as trauma surgeons. Bucky and Thor had become quick friends too and the three of you went on many double dates. But that was a thing of the past. Now, whenever Thor invited you, Bucky simply came up with a stupid reason to not go. Bucky had become so closed off; he wasn’t the thoughtful and jolly Bucky you fell in love with.

Now that you finally had the house to yourself, you had decided to go on a cleaning spree. Currently you were in your bathroom; busy cleaning with your mop, when you accidentally slipped on some spilt soap water and ended up falling right beside the bathtub, your mop flew up and hit the ceiling tiles, thus displacing them. Suddenly a small diary fell right on your head. Placing your right hand on the ledge of the bath tub, you waited for everything to settle down and cursed loudly. “Fuck you, you goddamning son of a bitch! Everything had to fall on my head! Pathetic!”.  

You saw that you mop as now dangling on the bath tub and that stupid diary which had apparently fallen from heaven knows where was laying right beside you. As you looked up, you noticed the displaced tiles and realized that’s where this must have fallen from. As you picked up the diary you noticed there wasn't any dust on it, so there wasn't a chance that the previous owners might have left something in the false ceiling above. And it definitely wasn’t you, Iris was too small to keep something there; that only left Bucky. But why did he never mention this diary before. What exactly was he hiding?

As you opened the diary, you realized that you couldn’t understand a single word written. It felt as it was written in some highly complex code language. You were sure it wasn’t any language spoken everyday by sane humans. As you flipped through the pages you realized that every page was written in the same format. At the top was presumably some names written in the code and the rest was probably the information of that person.  

You wondered how did Bucky know this language? And why didn’t he ever tell you about anything, heck, he didn’t even mention it. And whose names had he written like it was the most confidential file? You got up and quickly closed the lid on the toilet and climbed up on it. You stuck your hand inside the hollow ceiling above to check if he was hiding something more.  

Your hand caught something and you pulled it out, only to realize it was a laptop. You wondered why he needed a second laptop when he already had one for work purposes in the home office. You took the laptop and the diary and sat down in the bathroom itself, so that if you when you would hear Bucky come you would simply put everything back up in the ceiling. You opened the laptop and saw it was password protected. You decided you would have two tries at unlocking the laptop and if you didn’t crack it, you would simply confront him.  

You first tried out typing Iris's name and her date of birth. But it was denied access. You thought for a minute more and entered your own name and your birthdate. And access was granted to you. You didn’t know whether to be happy that he had kept your name as his password or angry that he had been lying to you about whatever this was. As the laptop opened, you saw various files in it. You tapped on one and it seemed to open on a person’s resume. No, it wasn’t a resume, it was that person’s entire life history. It was like those files the assassins carried in movies with all the information about their target. You wondered what Jason Bourne shit this was.

As you read his name and saw the photos attached with it, you felt as if you had seen this person before. As you scrolled further, it finally clicked. A year before this person, who held a high position in the United Nations, was all over the news due to his untimely death caused by a heart attack. You had absolutely no interest in worldly matters, you already had a million problems on your head so you hadn't paid much attention and had not given a flying fuck. But now suddenly sweat was covering your forehead. You were worried sick as to why Bucky had all this information stored in a secret computer.

As you scrolled further, you almost reached the end of the file and that’s when you saw the video. With shaky hands you opened it. It seemed to be the security footage of that man’s bedroom and its resolution was pretty shitty. For the first few minutes all you saw was the man sleeping peacefully but as the video continued, you noticed it. The window in his room was slowly lifted as a man entered. He seemed to be dressed in tactical gear, his face was covered by a mask, but he was given away by one tell-tale sign. His arm. The metal arm with a red star on it glinted in the moonlight and you knew it was Bucky.

You watched as Bucky quietly walked towards the sleeping man. As he stood near the bed, he produced something from his pocket and bent down. As you strained your eyes, you saw that it was an injection. Your eyes widened as you clapped your hand around your mouth. That man hadn't died due to a heart attack, at least not natural. He was murdered by Bucky!

You opened another file, then another, they all were the same. In the beginning it was the information about the person, then a report as to how they died and then a video. All of them were well known figures; and all of them had been assassinated by Bucky. In one of the videos, you saw him choking the life out of a man with his metal arm and your mind wandered to the many times you would playfully tell him to choke you with the metal arm while fucking you; your hand unconsciously went to your throat at the thought.  

Then you opened a file titled: The Winter Soldier. That was weird you thought, the other files were given numbers but not names. As you opened the file, you realized it was Bucky’s own. Apparently, his codename was The Winter Soldier. Everything about him was stated in that file systematically. His background, his education, his military career and the worst of all, there were your and Iris’s photos too. As you continued to read, you realized he wasn’t working in the military anymore. Four years before, the people who had called him were from an organization named Hydra. The name and symbol itself sent chills down your spine. God, was Bucky so stupid, the octopus symbol itself screamed that Hydra was up to no good.

In the beginning, you couldn’t believe Bucky had gotten such a fancy and technological advanced arm. Looking at it you wondered how much it cost, the material and the functions would make it no less than a few million dollars. Now why would the government spend so much money on a sergeant, not that Bucky didn’t deserve it but you were curious.  

It felt as if he was hiding something from you. But you didn’t as ask as you knew he’d come around and tell you soon anyway. He needed time and you had plenty to give. But he never did. You had asked so many times whether the star was a tattoo of some sort and he had always deflected your questions. But now after reading this, you knew what all this was for. The arm, the pay raise, the irregular schedule, it was all Hydra. And Bucky was a professional assassin, and that too a deadly one.

Your eyes watered and bile rose to your throat as you saw a list, it was all the people he had killed, and the list was pretty big. You quickly placed the laptop besides you and began to puke your guts out in the toilet. In all the panic you failed to notice that a person was holding back your hair and soothingly rubbing your back.  

[thegreaterlink]

Reviewing Star Trek TNG - S4E3 “Brothers”

In retrospect, that title doesn't quite fit the episode. But they already called the last episode "Family," so hindsight is 20/20. Though "Droids From the Same Noid" was still ripe for the taking.

THE PREMISE

After a misguided prank between two young siblings exposes the younger of them to a deadly parasite which they're unable to treat aboard the Enterprise, they're en route to a Starbase where the boy can be treated. Suddenly Data returns to the bridge, sets a new course and triggers a life support alarm, forcing the rest of the senior crew to evacuate the bridge while he locks down the ship.

MY REVIEW

Golly gee, two episodes in a row focusing on family. Vin Diesel must be happier than a pig in shit right now.

Depending on who you ask, Data's complete takeover of the bridge is either pretty effective in showing how intelligent Data is as a character or in showing how crappy the Enterprise's security measures are when one rogue android can take control of the entire ship.

Then again, they were once held hostage by a hologram who couldn't even leave the room projecting him, so I guess it isn't that much of a stretch. Plus I doubt they could've predicted Data using his voice to impersonate Picard.

Wait a minute.

Well, I’ve got egg on my face.

But yeah, Data manages to make his way through the ship without difficulty due to programming a series of force fields to keep the rest of the crew at bay... despite multiple points where I feel like the crew could've gotten to him. Feels weird. But he still manages to beam down to the planet with the Enterprise still on lockdown, and finds himself in the home of that weird old guy from the header image.

Speaking of that weird old guy, he reveals himself to be Doctor Noonien Soong, Data's creator and kind-of father, who is apparently still alive. He's also played by Brent Spiner in layers of old-age makeup which look much better than the series' earlier efforts.

Soong gives some vague exposition about how he somehow survived the crystalline entity which destroyed his colony, as well as disappointment that his "son" joined Starfleet instead of becoming a scientist, pretty standard stuff. But Data at least takes the rare opportunity to ask why Soong created him in the first place. Brent Spiner has a nice conversation with himself as they arrive at the conclusion that it was part of humanity's inherent need for continuity.

Data: I suppose it is a factor in the human desire to procreate.

Soong: So you believe that having children gives humans a sense of immortality?

Sure, what’s the difference? They’re both overrated.

But before I can dish out any more spicy takes, a familiar face (in more ways than one) shows up.

"Looks like we have ourselves a... family reunion."

Golly gee, I sure am glad that attaching that file for a single joke went off without a hitch! I definitely didn't accidentally delete an entire review the last time I tried that!

Yeah, don't be surprised if you see a re-review of "Evolution" on your dashboard in the near future, cuz that review doesn't really exist anymore. Or maybe y'all could hunt down a reblogged version and send it to me. Just saying.

Anyway, yay! Family reunion!

So yeah. Lore is back. After being beamed into space way back in season 1 and being left to drift for two years, he made his way here after being picked up by a Pakled ship. And honestly, that scans. He made his way back through the same homing device that called Data back, and Brent Spiner gets another few days of overtime.

This episode must have been a pain in the ass for him to film. But it’s a testament to his acting prowess when he can make the three of them feel like different characters, even when two of them look exactly the same.

As Brent Spiner warns himself not to trust himself, we get some of that sweet, sweet Soong family drama, with Lore resenting both Soong and Data for how they treated him and almost leaving before Soong reveals to both of them that he's dying. Something which you could probably guess just by looking at him.

Lore: What do you mean you're dying? You look fine!

Sir, he looks like a baked potato.

Dr Soong explains to his favourite son (and Lore) that the reason he summoned Data there was to bestow upon him an emotion chip to allow him to feel the same broad spectrum of emotions that Lore can.

However, Soong arbitrarily decides to rest before the procedure, rather idiotically leaving his two sons unattended. I say so because when he performs the operation later, it turns out that Lore managed to incapacitate and deactivate Data and switch clothes with him (which is exactly what he did last time and exactly why Data tried to warn Soong that Lore couldn't be trusted), and despite Soong's warnings that the chip isn't compatible with him, Lore fatally wounds his creator and beams away.

Wow. Lore went rogue and betrayed them. Whosoever could have predicted this. Certainly not I.

The rest of the crew of course beams down and finds a deactivated Data in another room. They had their own subplot about removing the ship's lockdown and tracking down Data which I chose to ignore.

Still, Data at least gets a nice moment of... grief probably isn't the right word... where he stays with his creator in his final moments.

"Everybody dies, Data. Well... almost everybody. Goodbye, Data..."

"Goodbye... father..."

And that's pretty much it. While the Soong family reunion is interesting, it feels like Rick Berman (in one of his handful of writing credits, despite being a longtime producer on the franchise) didn’t have enough of the runtime to do what he was going for. Which is ironic, considering we apparently had time for an entire damn subplot about two children who we’ll never see again.

Yeah, remember them? The impetus for the episode's entire plot? They were just vibing in sickbay the whole time, taking up way too much screentime trying to resolve their little spat. I haven't mentioned them at all because all their scenes are boring filler.

I mean, they try to justify it by throwing in some last-minute parallels between their relationship and Data’s relationship with Lore, but it ends up feeling pretty forced, even if it is the main source of tension since . But to be honest, I haven't cared so little about a threat to a child's life since I last watched an episode of Caillou. Just remove all the shit about the two brothers and free up more time for the Soong family sitcom.

I think that's my biggest problem with this episode - there's just not enough time for anything meaningful to happen. Data takes almost half the episode to even get down to the planet, then it takes even longer for Lore to appear, and all the while valuable runtime is being eaten up by the Enterprise crew trying to find them and an unrelated subplot which none of us care about.

The whole situation with Lore and Dr Soong feels more interested in setting up a later episode than focusing on its own goddamn story. This script isn't bad, far from it, but it definitely could've used another draft or two to weed out the unnecessary shit and tighten things up. I'm sure we'll see Lore again (you don't set up something like an unstable emotion chip in an already dangerous android without following it up later), but I just wish his appearance here had been more interesting.

Wow. Look at me actually reviewing an episode in a review.

6/10 - Feels like wasted potential.

Previous Episode | TNG Masterpost | Next Episode

[svnflowervol666]

harry doing baby bubs hair in the bathroom while she’s facetiming mitch 🥺

Word Count: 2.4k

Author’s Note: This made my heart melt. It’s in a puddle on the floor right now. That’s all.

“Baby, ye’ gotta sit still,” Harry huffed as he resituated his daughter on the bathroom counter for probably the fifth time that morning.

She was normally a patient and well-behaved child despite her ripe age of three, but today she was really showing her age.

“Want mummy do it!” she whined, smacking her pudgy toes against the inside of the sink.

“I know ye’ want mummy t’ do it. I want mummy to do it too, but she had t’ go t’ work early. ‘S just me and you today.”

Harry reached for the spray bottle filled with water with his right hand while keeping a firm grasp on his daughter’s unruly head of curly hair with his left, determined to tame the frizzy strands that seemed to have run wild while she slept the night before. A ponytail shouldn’t be this fucking hard. Should it?

He spritzed the bottle a few inches away from her head, trying to smooth down the baby hairs that littered her hair line. And he almost had it. That was, until his daughter tucked her head downward in agitation and caused Harry to lose his grip and the poofy tufts of chocolate brown hair to fall once more around her forehead and ears.

A exaggerated (but not really, it was well-deserved) groan erupted from Harry’s chest, and a feeling of defeat washed over him. He rubbed his tired eyes with the knuckles on his fingers. It wasn’t a big deal and he knew that, but the fact that he couldn’t do his daughter’s hair was making him feel like a failure of a father. 

“What’s it gonna take for ye’ to stop squirmin’, huh? Will ye’ just be good so daddy can do your hair and we can get ya t’ nana’s?”

She was getting restless now, the hard stone making her tiny bum ache and her attention span dwindle down to the point of non-existance.

“Daddy, I want dowwwwwn,” she fussed as she balled her hands into fists and hit them on her knees in protest.

“I’ve got t’ fix your hair, lovie. Can’t have it hangin’ in your eyes. Just be still for a few seconds. Ye’ know what? Here. Play with this.”

Harry fished his cell phone out of his back pocket and placed the sleek device in his child’s lap. He was normally against letting her mess with his phone in fear that she’d accidentally delete an important file or call one of the dozens of influential figures he had saved in his contacts, but at this point he’d do just about anything to make her stop moving so that he could put her damn hair up.

Her eyes seemed to light up when she realized what she now held in her possession, fingers moving quickly to unlock the screen and cause whatever damage her heart desired. It didn’t take her long to realize that unlike her mother’s, Harry’s phone was locked with a passcode and she was unable to get into it.

“Fix it, daddy!” she exclaimed, raising the phone over her shoulder while Harry had finally managed to regather her hair into a somewhat presentable bundle.

He cursed under his breath and let her curly mane go once more, then took the phone back from his daughter. It was unlocked and back in her arms in a few seconds flat, to which Harry’s millionth attempt at corraling the curls he undoubtedly passed down to her began. 

In an instant, she’d forgotten all about how antsy she was, now busying herself by opening random apps that caught her eye and pressing random keys that meant absolutely nothing to her because she was a three year old that couldn’t read, but it didn’t deter her from thinking she was a proper adult doing adult things on her very own cell phone.

Harry let out a sigh of relief when she seemed completely content, reaching once more for the spray bottle to rewet the comb he had been using to smooth over his daughter’s scalp. She put up no fight when he pulled her hair taut against her head, almost as if she had forgotten he was even there as her pudgy fingers tapped away on the glass screen.

The silver lining was now in reach, the finish line only a handful of long strides away. He was satisfied with his work. Sure, there were a few lumps and bumps, but nothing his wife or mother would fuss over, so he raised his arm up to his mouth to pull the neon pink hair band from his wrist with his teeth. As fate would have it, just as he began securing her ponytail with the hair tie, the flimsy elastic snapped and shot to the floor, leaving the toddler’s hair in a bird’s nest on top of her head and Harry’s patience at it’s end. 

“You’ve got t’ be bloody kiddin’ me,” Harry groaned, having to turn his body away from his daughter as if the fuse attached to his last nerve was going to implode at any second. 

He was now certain that whatever higher power in the sky was planning his demise on this bright and sunny Tuesday morning.

With the last bit of his dignity, he knelt down to open the cabinets and rummage through the bin with all of his daughter’s clips and bows until he found another hair tie that would match the outfit he’d picked out for her to wear. He kept a firm hand on her back as he jumbled around the contents of the container, just in case she lost her balance and fell backwards off of the counter (she didn’t really need the extra reinforcement, but he’d not quite been able to shake the over-protective dad persona that he’d adopted whenever she was much smaller and prone to flinging herself backward without warning). There was no additional pink hair tie in sight, so he was forced to go with a bright green one that didn’t compliment what she was wearing in the slightest, but it was just nana’s house, so who gives a shit, he thought to himself. 

As he was regaining his stance from where he was balanced on his haunches, he heard a deep voice that wasn’t his daughter’s echo off the walls of the master bathroom.

“Hey, man! What’s goin’ o-,” the voice, which Harry now recognized as his best friend’s came to an abrupt hault when the camera focused and the man was able to see who was actually facetiming him at seven o’clock in the morning.

“Oh. You’re not Harry,” he toyed, trying to amuse the tiny girl he’d known and loved since the minute she was born.

“Mitchy!” Harry’s daughter yelled directly into the speaker of the phone, causing Mitch to hold his own phone several inches away from where he had it resting on the arm of his sofa.

“Hello, princess. Where’s your dad?”

“Right here,” Harry interjected with a grunt as he willed the pain in his knees (and back) away.

“Sorry, she’s messin’ with m’ phone. Must’ve called you on accident.”

“No worries. ‘S a lovely surprise. What’re you two doin’? You on baby duty this mornin’?” 

Mitch could see Harry messing with the toddler’s hair, a purple comb balanced in between his teeth and locks of wavy, brown hair slipping in and out of the frame as he gathered it on top of her head.

“Yep,” Harry spoke through the comb, “And it’s not goin’ s’ great.”

“Judgin’ by the look on your face, I’d say so.”

“Haha. Very funny.”

“Mitchy!” Harry’s daughter called for him again as if to refocus the attention of this conversation back on herself.

“Yessss?”

“I see kitty?” her voice raising an octave as she asked to see the kitten he’d adopted a few months ago that she adored oh so much.

“Kitty’s sleepin’ with Sarah right now, bug. Can’t wake them or they’ll both be grumpy for the rest of the day. Why don’t you come over and visit and you can see all of us? We miss you,” Mitch pouted dramatically at the camera, making the small girl giggle in a way that made him smile right back at her.

He’d always been rather reserved, but had quite the soft spot for his close friend’s bub and couldn’t help but show her all of the affection that he could.

“Daddy, I go to Sarah’s house?” she jerked her head back to look at her father, whose life flashed before his eyes when the sudden movement almost caused his to drop her hair again.

Harry quickly turned her jaw back towards the mirror with his thumb to keep another disaster from occurring.

“Maybe later, petal. You’re going to nana’s today. Daddy and Mitch have to go t’ work.”

“You play songs?”

“Yeah. Gonna play some songs,” he laughed at his daughter’s earnest attempt at understanding what he did for a living.

“Are you bein’ good for ye’ dad?” Mitch asked, seeing Harry’s struggle and doing what he could to distract her while Harry smoothed the final lumps over her delicate head with the fine-toothed comb.

“Yeah, I bein’ good,” she gloated, flashing her tiny baby teeth.

“If that’s what ye’ want to call it,” Harry mumbled under his breath.

He wasn’t quiet enough for Mitch to not hear his snide comment, to which he let out a chuckle towards Harry.

“I take it you’ve got a bit of a fibber on your hands?” Mitch directed at Harry.

“No kiddin’,” Harry huffed, face concentrated on one stubborn tendril of hair that wouldn’t lay flat no matter how many times he brushed over it, “’Ve been trying to put her hair in a bloody ponytail for twenty minutes. I swear I’ve never seen a three year old with this much hair before in m’ life. Don’t know how her mum does this every mornin’.”

“’M afraid that hair’s all you, lover boy. Those curls are unmistakeable.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Is your dad good at fixin’ your hair?” Mitch asked the toddler, knowing good and well he was giving leeway for Harry to be teased mercilessly by his ruthless toddler.

“No, I like mummy do my hair more. Daddy pulls it too much.”

“Listen here, you little monster. If ye’ would have sat still for two seconds, this would have been done ages ago and we could’ve been halfway t’ nana’s by now,” Harry stated very matter-of-factly.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Mitch intervened, “Take it easy, mate. She’s three. It can’t be that bad.”

“I would absolutely love to see you babysit her for twenty-four hours. You’d be choking on your words.”

“I’d love that, actually,” Mitch snided, “What d’ya say, princess? Sleepover at uncle Mitch’s house with Sarah and the kitty?”

The three year old cheered excitedly, her chubby cheeks widening on the sides of her face at the thought of spending time with her favorite people in the world (aside from her mum and dad, of course).

“No, no, no!” Harry yelled frantically, “Hold still. ‘M almost done.”

He quickly looped the brightly-colored elastic around her bunch of hair that he held tightly in his hand as if an imaginary stopwatch was about to go off and signal that he was out of time and he’d lose control of her curls once more, for which he’d certainly burst into tears.

“Aha!” he held his hands above his head in victory when he was satisfied with the number of times he’d wrapped the hair tie around her hair.

“Finally.”

Harry was breathing heavily as if he had just run a marathon, making Mitch cheer him on sarcastically.

“Super dad does it again.”

“You’re not funny, Mitch.”

“‘M very funny, actually. Isn’t that right, bubs?”

“Uh-huh!” Harry’s daughter agreed, earning an eye roll from her father.

“Alright, we’re very late. Need t’ get goin’ before Jeff yells at daddy n’ I’m not sure I can handle much more today.”

Harry scooped up the pint-sized child from the sink by the belly and helped her stand, her hands still clasped around the phone surrounded in a baby pink case. 

“See ye’ in a bit yeah?” Harry asked Mitch as he straightened his daughter’s shirt that had crinkled at the hem from sitting on the counter for so long.

“Yeah. Reckon it’s probably time to go wake Sarah. You be good for your dad and nana today. Alright, stinker butt?”

“I not stinky!” the girl cried, almost offended.

“You’re right. ‘M sorry. Your dad’s the stinky one.”

“Goodbyeeeeeeee, Mitch,” Harry sang monotonously into the speaker.

“Bye, Mitchy!” his daughter called after him.

“Bye, sweetheart. See ye’ at the sleepover.”

She began rattling off another excited spout of words, but was cut off as Harry reached down and pressed the red button on the screen, ending the call. He took the phone from her hands and slid it back into his pocket. His daughter was too busy buzzing from the high of being invited over to Mitch’s house to play with his kitten to throw a fit over being deprived of it, to which Harry was thankful.

“Did ye’ put your bunny in your backpack?”

She nodded her head, yes.

“And your blanket?”

She paused, lips pursing as she tried to recall whether or not she stuffed the worn, yet still comforting wad of fabric that she’s had since she was born into her bag.

“Better go check then,” Harry added, watching her as she booked it down the hall towards her room as if she was in a race against herself to make it there.

“Got it!” her tiny voice came trailing back into Harry’s bedroom, the corners of the blanket sticking out from the giant backpack that was nearly the size of her body strapped to her back. 

The sight of her wobbling back into his line of sight with the oversized bag made him want to cry. She was still so tiny, but where had his sweet baby gone?

“Good gir-” he began to praise her before he realized what he was currently looking at.

In the midst of her running, she must have exerted herself a bit too harshly, for her curls that were styled perfectly just minutes ago were floofed around her head in a (not-so angelic) halo and the hair tie had slipped down dangerously low, mere inches from falling completely out.

Her inherited curls were one of the cutest things about her and anyone with even the worst vision would agree. But, god. At what cost?

“-YOUR HAIR!”

[bumblebee-moreno]

Awkward meetings (GN!reader)

Request: "Awkward first meeting for all the boys" and "Awkward first meeting and You lost something very important to you and they’re helping you look for it with Frankie Morales" for @luminescentlily

(Boys included are: Din, Javier Peña, Agent Whiskey, Frankie Morales, Max Phillips, Marcus P, and Marcus M.

Warnings: None?

A/N: Sorry this took so long to write. I had to leave a few boys out due to writer's block (Ezra, Tovar, and Zach Wellison), and I wanted to get this posted rather than continuing to stare at the screen in hopes of my brain miraculously functioning. To make up for my lack of inspiration at least a little bit, I added Marcus Moreno. Hope that's ok :)

Din Djarin

You feel a tug at your pant leg. Looking down, you are greeted by a pair of large watery eyes and big green ears. “Well hello there,” you smile, crouching down to be closer to the small child. “Where’s your family?”

He simply responds by lifting his arms towards you. You take that to mean he’d like to be lifted up. Scanning through over the crowded marketplace, you search for someone who the kid might belong to. You really have no idea what you’re looking for, having never seen anything like him, but you search nonetheless.

“Hey!” an angry voice calls out behind you. You whirl around, and before you know what’s happening, the child has been torn from your grasp and there’s a blaster to your head.

“I wasn’t going to hurt him I swear, I was just trying to find his family,” you blurt out, raising your hands in surrender.

The figure in front of you doesn’t respond at first, keeping his blaster pointed at you while he inspects the child for injury.

“Why did you have him?” The voice from under the helmet demands.

“I just found him by himself and I wanted to make sure he found his family,” you explain, voice shaking. “Are you his… Does he belong to you?”

“… yes.” He cautiously returns his blaster to its holster.

“I’m sorry,” you relax. “I didn’t mean to scare you. He’s just so… small. I didn’t want him to stay lost.”

The Mandalorian clutches the kid close to his chest as if he’s afraid they’ll be separated again. “Thank you.” He nods his head just enough for you to see the motion.

Javier Peña

“Shit, I’m going to be so fucking late,” you mutter to yourself, walking as fast as you can without sending the tall stack of papers in your arms flying.

On your way down the hall, you start going down your mental checklist.

‘Closed the window so the cat doesn’t escape? Check.’

‘Turned off the lights? Check.’

‘Locked the front door? Fuck.’

You stop in your tracks. How could you forget to lock your front door? You spin on your heel and run back towards your apartment, your one free hand switching between searching for your keys and adjusting the unstable tower balanced on your other arm.

In your haste to get your apartment locked so you can get to work on time, you fail to watch where you’re going.

Your body smacks into another. You fall backwards, losing your grip on the meticulously organised files. They scatter across the floor, completely losing the order you’d spent all night putting them in. The wind is knocked out of you for just long enough to hear the man you ran into grumping about how you should watch where you’re going.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I’m running late, I should’ve been paying more attention.” You pull yourself to your knees and start gathering your work off the floor. You’d normally stand and make sure the man you ran into is okay, but things at work are tense as it is, and being even later than you already are isn’t going to reflect well on you. Especially now that all of last night’s hard work needs to be done over.

You expect him to get up and walk past you. After his reaction to being practically tackled, you wouldn’t expect him to give you more than a second thought. But then a stack of papers lands on top of the one you’re already holding.

Your eyes shoot up to meet his. “You okay? You hit the ground kind of hard there,” Your neighbour asks.

You swallow thickly. “y-yeah, I’m fine,” you give a shaky smile. “How about you?”

“I’m all right, just running a bit late,” He offers a hasty smile before helping you to your feet. “I gotta get to work, but um, I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, momentarily forgetting how late you are.

Agent Whiskey

‘Ugh I really needed this day off,’ you type underneath the photo before pressing send.

You place your phone on the edge of the tub before relaxing back into the warm water.

It isn’t long before your phone buzzes. Your eyes widen in horror at the response:

‘I think you’ve got the wrong number, darlin’.’ It’s paired with a photo of a man you’ve never met.

He is kinda cute though. You’d never think the whole “unironically cowboy” thing could ever work but… No. No. You can’t be thinking that kind of stuff. You just texted a stranger a photo of you in the bath for fuck’s sakes, you can’t be attracted to him after that!

You frantically scroll up to examine the photo you sent, breathing a sigh of relief when you confirm that the photo you sent didn’t have anything too revealing in it; between the angle of the camera and the bubbles in your bath, nothing too embarrassing is visible.

‘Shit, I’m so sorry, that was meant for a friend ’

You pick up the shred of paper your best friend scribbled their new number on while you were at lunch with them yesterday, to figure out what happened.

‘not a problem, It’s a nice distraction from this god awful meeting I’m stuck in’

You frown. ‘You’re in a meeting and you’re texting a total stranger?’

You return your gaze to the phone number in your hand. “what in the fuck,” you say aloud to yourself. The second to last digit. It’s supposed to be a 4. Not a 9.

A shaky photo appears on your phone. It’s obviously taken from peeking just the camera of his phone over the edge of the table.

‘Damn, that looks like a serious meeting, shouldn’t you be paying attention?’ If you were texting at work, especially in a meeting, you’d have your ass handed to you unless someone was dying (and even then, it would depend on what kind of mood your boss is in that day). And this guy is just casually texting you, a stranger, during a meeting with people who look like they make more money weekly than what your whole car is worth.

‘I’m a bit more concerned that I don’t even know the name of the person who texted me such a lovely photo 😉’

‘It’s Y/N.’ you send. ‘And please delete that picture, that’s kinda private’ you ask, crossing your fingers that he respects that.

‘Already done. Mine’s Jack, since you obviously weren’t going to ask 🤠’

A soft smile appears on your face. Maybe it is kind of okay that you accidentally typed in the wrong number. Or… it will be after you (lovingly) cuss out your friend for having such bad handwriting.

Frankie Morales

“Shit.” You mutter to yourself, searching through your pockets. “shitshitshitshitshitshitshit” You swear you just had them. Or… maybe you left them on the counter back at the library?

You turn around to run back, rifling through your bag. You only make it a few steps before you’re knocked backwards to the ground.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you blurt the moment you catch your breath again. Barely sparing a glance towards the man you ran into, you start gathering your books.

“No, no. I’m sorry,” the man insists. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He helps to gather your books.

“You okay?” he finally asks.

You look up at him and freeze. He’s really cute. In the ‘I give the best hugs in the world’ kind of way.

“Yeah,” you respond breathlessly. “I just think I lost my car keys at the library, and I’m running late for lunch with a friend.” You mentally kick yourself. You just ran over the only attractive man you’ve seen since moving here, and then the first thing you do is overshare?

“Oh, did you want some help looking?” he immediately offers.

“I wouldn’t want to be any trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugs. “I’ve got lunch plans I’m desperately trying to find an excuse to get out of, so you’re helping me, really.”

“Okay, um… sure,” you nod. “an extra set of eyes looking wouldn’t hurt.”

“Cool. I’m Frankie.”

You introduce yourself and shake his outstretched hand.

The two of you make your way back towards the library.

“so…” you break the uncomfortable silence. “Lousy lunch plans, huh?”

“…yeah,” Frankie falls silent for a moment. “A couple of guys I used to serve with invited me out and I didn’t really have an excuse to say no.”

“Don’t get along with them?”

“We used to be friends, but I’m kind of rethinking that lately.”

“Oh,” you debate asking more questions. But then again, he doesn’t have to answer if he doesn’t want to, right? “Did… did something happen?”

“Convinced me to go to South America a while back, which would’ve been fine, except we kind of got stuck there, and my wife was left alone with the baby.”

Your stomach dropped at this. You’re not even sure why; you just met the guy, you really have no reason to be disappointed he’s taken.

“Was she at least understanding?” You ask.

“huh?”

“Your wife.”

“Oh,” Frankie chew his lip for a moment. “no. When I got back, she was… possessive. Searching my phone, never letting me go out with friends, that kind of stuff. Separated a few months later.”

“Oh,” you try to ignore the fact that your heart skipped a beat; you can’t be excited—that’s insensitive. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be.” Frankie pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, actually. I was helping you find your keys, and here I am ranting about my whole tragic backstory as if you actually cared.”

“I don’t mind.” You actually like listening to him. But you keep that to yourself.

“You shouldn’t have to listen to all that though—”

“Shit!” you interrupt him. “I’m such an idiot.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Frankie looks like he’s assuming the worst.

“…I didn’t lose my car keys. I walked here. And lunch with my friend is next week.” You chuckle bitterly. “I was so lost in my head I completely forgot she rescheduled. Sorry I wasted your time.”

“It’s okay,” Frankie laughs. You can’t help but smile at his lopsided dimple. “Hey, since you don’t have lunch plans and I want to get out of mine… Can I take you out? You can tell me your life’s story since you already know mine?”

“Sure,” you smile, though half of you is screaming to just leave the country to escape the embarrassment.

Max Phillips

“Ew, no.” you scrunch your nose.

“Hey, you’re the one that lost the bet.” Eva insists.

“I am not kissing a random stranger.” You sweep your gaze across the crowded café.

“It was your idea.” Eva sips her tea.

“That was because I thought I was going to win.” You cross your arms across your chest.

“You don’t get to opt out just because you’re a sore loser.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know them, what if they have a disease or something? Gross.” Your stomach turns at the idea.

“Okay, fine.” Eva sighs. And, for a fleeting moment, you have hope that she’s given in. “Kiss that guy then,” she points.

You turn. “Oh my god, Eva. No.”

“What? He doesn’t look like he has a disease,” Eva shrugs.

“He looks like a frat boy.”

“He’s cute though.” Eva leans in a not-at-all-subtle way to get a clearer view of him.

“I hate you.” You stand up. “And when I’m done, you’re buying me an entire bottle of vodka to wash my mouth with.”

“Yes!” Eva cheers triumphantly. A few people shoot her expressions of annoyance at the outburst.

You storm over to the man and pull him in by the collar. His lips barely brush against yours before you’re stomping back to your friend. Though, for a moment, you actually consider staying to talk to him. Eva was right, he definitely isn’t hard on the eyes.

You push the thought from your mind and collapse back into your seat, scowling at your friend.

“You’re literally the worst human being on the planet,” you huff.

“You’re just being dramatic,” Eva laughs.

“Am not.” Okay… maybe you are, but Eva can’t know that.

“Fine. We’ll go get you a drink once I’m back from the bathroom.” Eva skips off, still laughing about your reaction.

She’s barely out of sight before her seat is filled by the stranger you just kissed.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I lost a bet,” you don’t look up at him, instead choosing the glare at a stain on the wooden table.

“I figured as much.” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “I also figured I have the right to at least know the name of the person who just kissed me.”

You reluctantly introduce yourself, still refusing to make eye contact with the man.

“I’m Max. And, if you want to apologise for kissing me without my consent,” he throws a napkin with a phone number scribbled in red sharpie onto the table in front of you, “You can call me.”

Marcus Pike

You hum quietly to yourself, unable to stop smiling. It’s been so long since you’ve gone on a real date. You turn on your shower, but instead of water coming from the showerhead, it starts leaking from the base of the hose.

That can’t be good. You turn off the water and fiddle with the shower. Maybe it just came loose.

You reach for the handle to try the water again. But before your hand can even touch the cool metal, the entire shower head disconnects from the wall and clatters to the shower floor.

Letting out an exasperated groan, you start gathering your clothes into a bag. You really don’t have time for this today. Crossing your fingers your neighbour is home, you head next door.

You’ve never actually talked to him, but you figure he’s probably a safer bet than the crazy old neighbour on your other side; the way he looks at you whenever you run into him gives you the jitters. And not the “he’s a creep” kind of feeling you get when anyone else stares for too long. More like the “he’s probably got a taxidermy cat in his living room and a human body in his closet” kind of feeling. So the neighbour you’ve never even introduced yourself to will have to do.

Your knock echoes through the quiet air. Shifting from foot to foot, you wait impatiently for an answer.

The door clicks open, leaving you face-to-face with your neighbour, who is way cuter up close than you expected him to be.

“…hi,” He greets you as if he’s startled by your presence.

“…hi…” you bite your lip and tear your gaze away from his face to examine your shoe. “I… Well, I live next door, and well—”

“I know,” he interrupts.

“I-What?”

“I’ve seen you… around. We get home from work at the same time, so…”

“Oh.” You chew on your lip for a moment. “Look, my shower broke, and I have a date I have to get to, and well…” you drift off. Are you really asking your irresistibly adorable neighbour who you’ve never met if you can use his shower?

“Oh. Okay, did you want to use mine then?” You pretend not to notice how pink his face has turned.

“Would you mind? I just—I’m running late and I don’t have time to figure out what’s wrong with mine before I leave and still have time to get ready to go.”

“Sure, Come on in,” He shuffles out of the way to allow you space to enter. “Down the hall, second door to the right.”

“Thank you so much,” you smile awkwardly. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

You walk as quickly as you can without breaking into a run to get to the bathroom, leaving Marcus frozen in the doorway.

This is not how he imagined meeting you. Not that he imagined that at all. And he definitely hadn’t spent hours trying to figure out how to ask you out. Because that would be weird.

And he just let you use his shower to go on a date with someone else.

Fuck.

Marcus Moreno

“Excuse me,” a voice speaks up from behind you, just barely audible over your music. You turn around to find that the voice belongs to a young girl.

“Hello,” you greet taking out your headphones.

“Do you see that guy over there?” she asks, pointing across the cluttered bookstore to a man struggling to balance a tower of books while skimming the shelves for more.

“The one in the glasses?” you confirm.

“That’s my dad,” the girl nods. “He thinks you’re cute, but he’s too afraid to talk to you.”

“Oh,” you say, unsure whether you should be flattered or amused.

“He says it’s ‘cause he doesn’t want to weird you out,” she elaborates, “but I think he’s scared you won’t like him back.”

The man glances up, and, upon seeing his daughter talking to you, rushes over. He pauses only briefly when he trips over a box of books placed in the middle of the walkway.

“Oh, here he comes, act natural,” the girl whisper-yells just before her father arrives. “Oh, hey dad,” she greets him nonchalantly.

“Missy, what did we just talk about?” he scolds.

“I know, I know,” she rolls her eyes. “I shouldn’t go up to strangers and tell them my dad thinks they’re cute even when he totally does.”

Missy’s dad freezes, a look of horrified embarrassment washing over his face. “You… You told them what?”

“I’m going to shop some more,” she walks away, winking at you.

“Hey, you get back here, young lady,” he calls after her, struggling not to raise his voice above a murmur in the middle of the peaceful book shop. His daughter ignores him.

He groans under his breath. “I’m sorry about her,” he turns back to you.

“It’s okay,” you laugh. “I’m Y/N,”

“Marcus.” He looks down at his armful of books. “I’d uh… I’d offer a handshake but…”

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile. Marcus smiles back. You allow a moment of uncomfortable silence before speaking up again. “So… you think I’m cute?”

“What? No! I mean, Yes. I mean…” Marcus’ face scrunches up in embarrassment. “Yes? But not… not in a weird way. I wasn’t like… admiring you or anything. That’d be… weird.” Marcus hangs his head with an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry. I’ll just shut up now.”

You smile again at the flustered man in front of you. After a moment, you pull a pen from your sweatshirt pocket.

“Well, here’s my number,” you say, writing as clearly as you can across his forearm. “You can text me if you decide you do think I’m cute… In a weird way.”

You walk to the counter to pay for your books, sincerely hoping he decides to text.

---

Taglist:

@pascalisthepunkest @trashbin2 @anatanotegami @beesting77 @northernpunk @pumpkin-stars

[jarvisisbetterthansiri]

Only Human (sex pollen)

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader Word count: 2143 Description: Despite being with Pepper, Tony is only human, and when you are both hit with sex pollen, he can’t control himself Warnings: *NSFW* Dub-con (due to sex pollen), smut, infidelity, overstimulation, dirty talk, unprotected sex ~ soft!reader + dom!Tony

A/N: Yes, this has been posted before, it’s still me, I accidentally deleted my account, so I’m just moving to here, and re-uploading my fics I had saved on Google Docs so they haven’t gone to waste. Hope this isn’t too confusing.

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“Y/N, sweetie, can I borrow your hands for a few minutes?”

A slight blush makes its way onto your cheeks at the pet name, and you nod up at Tony Stark - your boss. Your very hot but sadly, engaged, boss.

Your job at Stark Tower consisted of bouncing between offices, making coffee, and helping with the filing. Not that you would complain, it was secure as you could ask for, and the pay was good. Also, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy spending time in the presence of Mr Stark, even if it was from a distance.

He moves towards a glass door, scanning his print for access, and you scurry behind before the door can shut on you.

“Just need you to help carry,” he squints at the cabinet, pulling out a key, “a few things. Careful. Don’t touch anything.”

You cringe at this, eyes widening at the objects locked in the shelves, bright warnings plastered on them: explosive, toxic, bio hazard, corrosive, radiation. Fuck.

Tony holds out a hand, passing you a small flask of dangerously pink liquid. And then the unthinkable happens - your hands shake with nerves, glass slipping through your clammy fingers, and smash.

“Shit!” you gasp, eyes wide as Tony mimics your expression. “I’m so sorry Mr Stark, I-”

“Goddammit!” his voice is raised, almost a growl, “F.R.I.D.A.Y, restrict access to this floor and evacuate the offices.”

He crouches to the floor, reading the label, and curses again, “Increase ventilation and purify the air in this room.”

“I’m so sorry Sir, I didn’t mean to,” you apologise, chest tightening, tears pricking your eyes. 

Tony replies instantly, accusatory, “I told you not to touch anything.” Then he fishes in his pockets for a phone.

“I - it was an accident - I,” you stammer, stopping when he raises a hand, pressing the cell to his ear.

You step back, eyeing the spilled liquid. It was locked away. You’d had it in your hand. And you...dropped it. It was locked away. With the rest of the dangerous items. You really fucked up this time. 

“Banner,” Tony speaks, clearing his throat, “yeah, I know. We had an incident.” Brown eyes glance over to you, sighing, “I didn’t - I don’t have time to argue right now. How long until the effects set in? Son of a bitch.”

He slams the phone on the table, fists clenching.

“What...what is it? Are we gonna die?” you manage to get the words out, hot tears spilling down your cheeks. 

You were so stupid.

Tony freezes, frowning, “You’re not gonna die. Look at me, we’re fine.”

“I’m so sorry Mr Stark,” you say again, and it’s true. More than anything, you can’t stand the thought of disappointing him. 

He offers a smile, kind eyes now like you were used to, “I know you are sweetie, it’s fine. You’re not gonna get in trouble. We’re good.” 

Is it getting hotter, or is it just your imagination? You tug at your shirt uncomfortably, “So what...what is it?”

Now Tony is the one who looks uncomfortable, avoiding eye contact, “It...it’s something we found on an alien ship - a kind of aphrodisiac.”

“Aphrodisiac?” You repeat, hoping you heard wrongly.

He swallows, leaning against the table for support, “We know the species was...well, a lot larger than we are. So, we don’t know exactly the effects but it releases hormones, so extreme arousal.”

There’s a moment of silence, and a wave of dizziness swims over you. Something hangs in the air, a spicy and heavy scent, and suddenly there's a prickling heat clawing its way through your body. 

Your breathing gets harsher, “Why is it so hot, Mr Stark?”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, the temperature?”

“Seventy six degrees Fahrenheit,” the automated voice rings out through the speakers. But no, that can’t be right.

Tony groans, and your thighs clench at the sound, “Fuck.”

His eyes find you, and he drops his head, moving back, “Probably gonna want to stay over there, sweetie.”

The nickname has you gasping for breath, and a high pitched whine makes its way out of your throat. A dull ache spreads through your core as you watch Tony across the room; cheeks flushing at the way his pants strain against his bulge. 

“How long?” 

“Huh?”

You moan, shifting to the floor, fingers fiddling with the bottom of your shirt, “How long will it...will it feel like this?”

Tony pants, eyes fixed on your thighs, which he noted were rubbing together incessantly now, “All estimates...theory is to work it out.”

“Work it….oh,” a sense of dread settles in your stomach, “You mean…”

He nods, gesturing to the table, “Just, I’m gonna be,” turning his back to you, “so you can...however you need to.”

You stare at his back for a second, making out the movement of his arm moving up and down, then feel a pang of guilt at your actions and turn away. Tony was engaged, you shouldn’t be looking.

At this point, your clothing sticks to you oppressively, and you hastily unfasten the buttons of your blouse, shrugging out of it. Another wave of arousal hits and you inhale sharply, unable to even breathe when every movement has your nipples brushing against your bra, and your pussy throbbing with want.

Shakily, you press a finger to your bud, circling it roughly, moaning in a voice that hardly sounds like your own. With every rub you feel yourself becoming more overstimulated, thighs sticky with arousal but it isn’t enough. Fingers slip easily into your core, thrusting against the right spot but it isn’t working. And everything is too hot, too clammy, too much.

Tony groans, fisting his cock furiously. This was not how he’d planned to spend his evening. He was supposed to have a dinner reservation with Pep - he closes his eyes at the thought of her. 

It wasn’t right to be doing this; jacking off just meters away from his sweet young secretary. His thumb drags along his length and he shudders when he hears those desperate little sounds coming from your direction. It definitely wasn’t right to be picturing what you were doing to make those sounds, either. He should be thinking about his fiance, he tells himself, willing to recall how Pepper blowed him just last night.

But then he’s thinking of your lips, and how pretty they’d look sucking on his thumb while he fucked into you. Was it the aphrodisiac? 

“Mr Stark, this isn’t working. I can’t,” he could hear you sobbing now, and turns.

Tony’s breath catches. You’re laying back, skirt hitched up your slick legs, shirt unbuttoned, if you had been wearing a bra, it was gone now too. He’s startled by how scared you look, and just as frustrated at the fact he could do nothing to help either of you.

“I don’t...I don’t know what you want me to tell you, Y/N,” he clears his throat, tearing his eyes from your form, trying not to focus on how wet your fingers are.

You let out a cry of frustration, fists hitting off your thighs, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t...it’s my fault.”

“It’s gonna be okay,” Tony starts, ignoring the throbbing of his cock. “We’ve got this.”

“No, I can’t, my fingers aren’t working,” you whimper, “I need…”

Tony glances at his ring finger, swallowing any second thoughts, and lets himself look at you. It isn’t cheating, he tells himself. You’re in pain, he’s in pain, what else could he do? 

“Tell me what you need,” his words are syrup, thick with desire as he wraps his rough fingers around your wrist, the smallest contact sparking you to moan again.If you’d been dizzy before, you were sure you’d pass out now. 

God, you want to die. You can’t imagine a worse situation than the one you’re in now - what are you supposed to say? That you need him to fuck you? You couldn’t.

He moves closer though, finger pressing into your chin, forcing you to look into those honey eyes and see the lust in them, “Tell me. Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”

“I can’t,” you protest weakly, shame eating away at your burning cheeks, “What about-”

“Don’t,” Tony cuts you off, not wanting to think about her right now. Not when you were looking up at him with those doe eyes, exposed all pretty for him. He lets his hand run down your side and squeezes at the curve of your exposed thigh, then adds firmly, “You can. Right now, tell me what you need.”

The words almost wont leave your lips, and you swallow thickly, “I need it. I need you.”

There’s a hint of amusement in his face behind the desperation you’re both feeling, “I gotta hear you say it, Princess.”

“Please Mr Stark,” you cry, fists clenching as the ache between your legs becomes so intense you think you might die.

Tony groans at your neediness and sits on the floor, pulling his cock from the painful confines of his pants. You feel all of the moisture leave your mouth at the sight - larger than your ex’s, swollen head glistening.

The amount of nights you’d pictured this exact scene while you touched yourself, and now it was real. Fuck.He motions for you to straddle him and you obey, crying out when his length grazes your clit. Tony’s breath is quick and shallow, nails digging into your thighs as he struggles to ground himself. 

Then, as much as he would love to pull you onto his cock right now, he restrains, “Do you need my fingers first?”

You shake your head, “No, just need you. Please.”

That’s all the confirmation he needs, and in an instant he’s pushing into you, “Fuck, you’re drenched.”

Another thrust, and you’re a mess, scrambling to hold onto his shoulders. If it wasn’t for his grip on you, you’re pretty sure you’d have collapsed already. Despite not being completely innocent, the sensation of being speared by his cock, of being stretched and filled, has you struggling for air.

Tony almost uses your body, forcing you up and down, watching your tits bounce and the look of bliss on your face. God, he couldn’t get enough of that look. Every thrust is harder to get more of that face and your needy little gasps.

“Feels so good, Mr Stark,” you babble, stars in your vision, and this seems to do it for him, judging by the way he pumps into you faster than you even thought possible.

Before you can even speak, you feel his fingers make their way to your nub, rubbing circles. And oh god, it feels so good, but it’s so much. You spasm, clamping down on his cock, crying in ecstasy.

Then, the throbbing in your core is subsiding, and you suppose the effects of the plant are wearing off. But Tony isn’t stopping, his cock pounding into you with a force that makes you choke, hands trying to push off of him. You’re too raw, too sensitive, and the pleasure is so good it hurts.

He notices and stutters his movements for a second, hand moving from your clit and finding its way to your shoulder, keeping you in place, “I just need a little longer, can you do that for me sweets?”

“Yes,” you sob, letting him slam into you again.

Tony pushes your hair out of your face, chasing his own release, “Fuck. Such a good girl for me.”

You nod, using your hips to match his movements weakly, and he sits up to place a sloppy kiss to your lips.

“Fuck,” he groans into your ear - what has to be the hottest thing you’ve ever heard in your life, “you take cock like it’s your day job, babe. Think you might be in the wrong career.”

The familiar knot is building in your core again, and you let your hand guide his back to your clit, wanting more. He curses at the action, and starts palming you desperately, feeling himself getting closer.

“Oh god,” the words fall from your lips in a voice that is as wrecked as you feel. 

The next moments are fuzzy, and you clench down, back arching as you feel Tony spend himself in you. It’s a sort of warm feeling, and you fall onto his sweaty chest when he releases his grip on you. 

The room is silent apart from the sounds of heavy breathing slowing to normal. Tony lets an arm drape over your body, an action that should be comforting, but then you feel it.

Warm metal on your skin. A ring, his ring, his engagement ring. The guilt comes then, and he feels you freeze, tears falling onto his chest.

What have you done?

[hopelessromanticvirgo]

Number 134 [22]

Chapter 21

May 16. 21:05

“I don’t want to talk about this.” Robbe said for the millionth of time today even if he knew it wouldn’t mean anything, but he desperately said it again and again.

“Well, I want to talk about it so that’s what we’re going to do.” Robbe rolled his eyes and started walking towards the kitchen, already done with this argument.

He heard Sebastian’s footsteps following him and sighed.

The past few days have been very hard on him, he hasn’t heard anything from Sander and he knew, he wouldn’t, not until he made up his mind and told him what he wanted, but every time he’d get a notification, his heart would start hoping it was from him, only to get disappointed.

And he wanted to call him, or text him, or do anything that would mean being with him, choosing him, but he was terrified.

Sander was too good, too pure and somebody Robbe would never deserve no matter how much he tried. And he’s also not good with changes in his life.

What he has now, with Sebastian, it’s not great but it’s familiar, and it’s the best he can ask from life.

And Sebastian always reminds him of that too, so by now, Robbe is used to feeling thankful for what he has, and afraid to lose it. That’s mostly the reason why his countless break up missions failed. A lot of times, he didn’t have the guts to do it properly and other times, Sebastian made his mind turn upside down.

By now, he knew a cute date, or kisses or cuddles would only come after a very serious fight, not for any other occasion.

If they didn’t fight all the time, he’s sure, they would never touch each other.

He has no idea how they got here, since at first, everything seemed to be great, their relationship was amazing but now, Robbe could barely call it, whatever they had, a relationship.

“Don’t walk away from me.” The way Robbe was so exhausted from all this. He has no idea why he thought that coming here today would be a good idea. He probably wanted to check, for the last time.

Check if it was real, if Sebastian’s and his relationship was really that bad, but oh how much he regrets that decision now.

“How did you not tell me?” Robbe could hear on the which level of angry, Sebastian was getting by the tone of his voice and it seemed like the things would get ugly pretty soon.

“I didn’t know he’d be there and I told you why. He acted like he didn’t know me because Noor doesn’t know and what could I do? Say ‘no, we already know each other?’” It’s been already forty minutes since they started talking about this.

This, meaning Sebastian reading the messages between Sander and him which took place the next day after their accidentally meeting at the bar. Luckily, Robbe feared this would happen so he deleted the last messages between them but not all of it, so after Sebastian found out, quoting “he was that Sander and you said nothing?” there they were.

“As if I’d believe that. You tried to hide it from me and I just want to know why.”

This calm facade he had going on was even scarier than his yelling and Robbe knew, he wouldn’t leave it alone, no matter what he told him.

“I told you why I did it.”

“So you’re telling me there wasn’t any more reason?” Robbe looked at the clock, hoping that his mom or anybody else would call him so he could lie about something happening and go home, but of course, he didn’t have any luck and the universe hated him, his phone has been silent all day long, nobody needed him or wanted to help him out.

He knew Sebastian wouldn’t let him go out of his house right now, and not until he got what he wanted, or not until he got tired of fighting, and it wouldn’t happen anytime soon since he just started, he was only getting warmed up.

“No, as I said already, there isn’t any different reason.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes and scoffed at him.

“I know you’re fucking him.” Robbe gripped the cup he was holding, starting to get mad but he knew it was important to stay calm and stable.

“I’m not doing anything.” He can’t ever remember how many times he has already heard all this and how he already knew each word that would leave his mouth next.

“So you’re telling me, all those texting and meeting up, ignoring me, didn’t mean anything? How much of a fool do you think I am, huh? If you’re not hiding anything , then why don’t you want to tell me the truth?”

“I’m telling the truth.” The desperation in his voice was already visible. He wished to end this already, he wished to go home.

He wished to be with Sander.

“Can we stop now, please?”

Can we stop forever?

“No. I just know you’re lying. How many times should you hide it? Just please tell me the truth, I won’t get mad, I promise. I just want to know.”

It makes Robbe’s head spin when he does all those moods swings on him, makes him think that all of the problems are in his head.

Sebastian usually doesn’t say the word “please.”

“I’m telling the truth, please just, believe me okay? I don’t have anything with him, I already told you.”

No matter how much I want to have something with him, I don’t.

“It’s all his fault, he came in and messed up your head.”

Robbe thought that too, for a very long time.

But as time went on, he realized a lot of stuff. It wasn’t Sander destroying their relationship;

It was Robbe opening up about his crush on Jens to him and Sebastian getting freaked out when Robbe’d say that he’d go out with his friends, complaining to him how they would never get to hang out that much, making Robbe feel guilty and in the end, making him ditch his friends for him without even realizing it.

It was ironic laughter after telling him about what his mom has been talking about while she didn’t feel good, making him feel horrible about sharing that fact.

It was “not even your parents wanted you” after one of their first intense fight, which in the end got sorted out with two movie tickets and one pathetic apology.

It was creating a problem out of nothing.

It was making him feel like a horrible person after getting accepted in his dream university just because it was a little bit far away from where Sebastian was studying.

It was getting mad about every little detail that’d go wrong.

It was “sometimes I understand why you father left you.”

It was making fun of his studies and not giving him any chance to work.

It was laughing at him for still skating with his friends on his free time, telling him how he was acting like a toddler.

It was “you don’t deserve good things in life and when something good happens, you’re not even thankful.”

And then Sander happened, and Sebastian didn’t even need to find a reason to fight, it was already there. No matter what the argument would start about, it would always end with Sander.

At first, it wasn’t anything drastic.

It was Sebastian pressuring Robbe into telling him all about this new client he had, claiming he was just curious and wanted to know what his boyfriend was doing, making Robbe tell him about Sander and his file, which Sebastian read without his permission after finding out that it existed.

It was him asking Robbe uncomfortable and personal questions about Sander that he didn’t want to share, creating arguments from it, getting mad that Robbe wasn’t trusting him with this.

And when Sander ended the contract and they started meeting up, it was hell for Robbe. Sebastian would tell him everyday how he hated that they were seeing each other and how it wasn’t his “job” to take care of Sander anymore.

Robbe guesses that’s when he started to get more paranoid about Robbe and Sander meeting up, afraid that something more between them was going on.

One time Sebastian even went so far that Robbe didn’t talk to him for the whole week, already ready to end it all, only for Sebastian to feed him more lies, promise him it wouldn’t happen again, telling him that sometimes he just snaps and he just doesn’t want to lose Robbe: “it’s alright, you can have fun all you want, he will try to kill his self sooner or later again and will succeed in it and you won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

And Sander.

He’s everything and so much more Robbe could ask for, but he knows, he will only hurt him, he will never be enough and he can’t drag him in his shit.

Sander is too good, too amazing, too perfect. And he’s not being fair to him, he knows but he can’t help it.

When they are together, he feels calm, like nothing bad will happen and he feels happy to finally talk to somebody who just understands him, knows what he’s feeling, knows who he is and what he wants. He almost texted him four times, but didn’t know what to say.

I’m yours, have me.

I’m only happy when I’m with you.

Will you take me as I am?

Please forgive me for everything, I can’t seem to stop hurting you and it’s killing me, but staying away also hurts, I don’t know what I want but I know I want you.

“No, it wasn’t his fault.” Robbe whispered, hoping that the other boy didn’t hear him but it was too late.

“What did you say? Are you defending him?”

“No, I’m just saying that we already had some problems.” With a sudden rush of confidence, he dared to say it and look him in the eyes.

There was something that run on Sebastian’s face for a second but Robbe couldn’t figure out what it meant.

“Problems? What are you saying?” He took a step and Robbe wished he wasn’t leaning on the counter so he could take a step back.

Next, he felt his hands on his cheeks, his face close, making him obligated to look up. “Hey, I know I sometimes can be aggressive and maybe even raise my voice but you know that I love you so much right? And they don’t mean anything, I just lost control. I know I shouldn’t but it’s who I am. I’m sorry, okay? It’s me who you should be with and only me.” Robbe could hear the hidden meaning behind his words now, for the first time in ever, he just heard it instead of realizing it later. “It’s me who you deserve.”

He got sick feeling down in his stomach and his mind filled with how much he wanted to be with his favorite person in this world, right now, he spoke up: “I want to break up.”

“What?” Robbe took his hands in his own and put them away from his face, took a step so he was out of the way and put some distance between them.

He cleared his throat, took a breath and repeated.

And just as he expected, the storm came crushing down, the flames went out and he had to close his eyes and wince from the howl he heard coming from the boy in front of him.

“For him? You want to break up with me for him?”

“N-n-no. I just want it for myself.” How he wished his phone to call right now.

“For yourself? Are you even listening to yourself?”

Robbe was and he was surprised and terrified.

“I want to go.” Robbe mumbled and tried to walk pass him but got held by a hand on his way out.

“Didn’t I tell you not to walk away from me?”

That tone still sent shivers all over his body in a very bad and unpleasant way and he wanted to say “I’m not afraid of your voice anymore” but he couldn’t, since he was afraid and both of them knew that.

And it’s not like he’s afraid of anything really, it’s not like Sebastian has ever touched him physically, but Robbe hated this aura around them when he gets mad so he always tried to make him win arguments so he won’t lose control, so he won’t yell, so they would act like they we’re happy.

And somehow Robbe being tired of arguments and making Sebastian win and agreeing with him, turned into all of their conversations ending with Robbe saying yes to whatever Sebastian wanted just so they wouldn’t have any more problems than they already did and Robbe has no idea how only Sander could make him realize that.

He probably knew, deep down knew how wrong it was but hoped it was a lie, hoped that this relationship could work out in the end but it never did and it never will. Specially not now, when Robbe finally saw that he wasn’t worth it, that Sander was willing to show him how special he was and no matter how crazy and unreal it sounded, he wanted to give it a shot. He just wanted to get out of here.

“I don’t want to be with you, why can’t you understand that?” He tried to make him let go of his hand but didn’t have any success.

“I want to know the reason.” Sebastian raised his voice and finally Robbe had enough and he screamed too.

“Because I don’t love you.” The boy still didn’t back off.

“You love him don’t you?” He pronounced the word “him” with so much hate that it was all it took for Robbe to burst out and yell out “yes” on top of his lungs which made the boy lose his grip on him and Robbe took the chance to start walking away. Only for Sebastian to go after him.

“I knew it. All those times you were with him, of course, and you’re making me seem like I’m the responsible for this. How many times have you slept with him then?”

He has been following him around when Robbe went back to the living room, looking for his phone and taking it in his hand, then going back to the hallway to take his jacket.

“Where do you think you’re going? You’re not going anywhere, I’m not done yet.”

He caught up with him and was about to grip his arm again to make him stop that

Robbe spun around, his fingers on the door handle.

“I’m done.” Looked him up and down for the last time, opened the door and walked out.

He could hear horrible screaming from the house, a few of them being a very loud “fine, go, see if I care,” “yeah go to him, he will get bored of you too eventually,” “if you think that you deserve any bit of a happiness you’re wrong,” “fuck you” and of course “go fuck yourself.”

As soon as he was outside, he ran.

Not daring to look back, afraid that he’d still follow him, watch his every move, control him.

And he ran until his legs couldn’t handle anymore, until his knees started shaking and when he finally thought that he was free, he fell.

Trying to calm down, trying to realize what he did and trying to see that he did the right thing. And when it was obvious that he couldn’t relax or calm down, he reached out to the person he needed the most right now.

He couldn’t see straight, the whole screen was blurry when he turn on his phone and tried to text him. Fortunately, Sander responded quickly.

And when Robbe saw his message, he breathed out.

May 16. 23:49

Sander didn’t know what to expect when he got to the address Robbe sent him, but finding the brunet on his knees, in the middle of the street, breathless with his head in his hands, rocking front to back, definitely wasn’t it.

He got scared as soon as he caught the glimpse of him, stopped the car, but didn’t care enough to turn it off, the light coming from the car lighting the whole street and road. There was nobody in sight, just Robbe, paralyzed and numb from this world, who didn’t even notice Sander got there.

When Robbe sent that he didn’t know where he was but he’d send the address using his map, Sander got more worried and he wasn’t able to breath normally until he saw him, but now, looking at him when he finally got here, he knew he wouldn’t be able to calm down anyways.

He run to him, didn’t even care to close the door, kneeled down next to him, getting his trousers dirty.

He didn’t know if he should touch him, or what to say, what to do.

“Robbe.” He whispered but when he realized that the boy didn’t hear him, he repeated himself.

Robbe looked up to him so fast, Sander heard his neck crack, looking at him like he was imagining, hallucinating Sander there, didn’t say anything to him.

It was dark but Sander’s car light was helping him to see how wet Robbe’s eyes and cheeks were and he could hear how hard it was for him to take a breath.

“Hey, I don’t know what to do.” Sander mumbled, trying to catch his attention so he’d focus on him.

“Tell me what to do.” He could see Robbe processing his words and after a while of silence, he whispered something, looking away from him, staring at the darkness around them.

“I couldn’t hear what you said. Can you repeat it for me?” He tried to act like him, think about what Robbe’d do or say if the situation was reversed.

When Robbe still stayed silent, Sander decided that he had to take matters into his hands now.

“Come on, Robbe.” He got close to him, their legs touching each other.

“Tell me what to do. I want to help but I have no idea how. Just tell me.”

“C-can you just - “ Robbe started.

“Yeah, tell me. Use your words, angel.”

He felt a horrible feeling down to his stomach while looking at him like this, unable to do anything, unable to take his pain away.

“Just stay with me.” He finally mumbled and Sander nodded his head, his heart melting.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Sander could see that Robbe wanted to say more but didn’t, something was holding him back.

“What do you want? What do you need?”

The boy was still hesitant, but after a while he shook his head and started talking.

“I want you to hold me.” He became quiet but then looked at him in the eyes.

“I need you to hold me, please just hold me close.”

Hold me close and never let me go.

And Sander wasted no time, he put his arms around him and made him turn around, put him in his arms, against his chest. And when he felt soft and cold hands, gripping his shirt, he smiled weakly, sadly.

And then the tears came. Robbe started weeping and all Sander could do was to tight his embrace around him, and whisper “I’m here” all over again in his ear.

And they stayed like this for a long time, with Sander touching his back up and down, putting him closer and closer and Robbe clinging to him like his life depended on it, and maybe it really did. A few cars passed by but they didn’t care. The cars had to go all the way around them and Sander’s open car doo so they wouldn’t hit them but neither of them moved a muscle.

And when Robbe finally calmed down, Sander dared to ask “Did something horrible happen?” with his lips in his hair, his legs and hands all around him.

Robbe looked up to him, their faces so close to each other and whispered “No, something good happened” and after seeing Sander’s confused face, he added “I’m just overwhelmed, and happy you’re here.”

“I’m here and I plan to stay with you. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” He chuckled humorously.

“Alright. That’s okay. Can you stand?” Robbe nodded his head and Sander helped him up on his feet, took his hand.

“Let’s go.” Robbe looked up at him weirdly.

“Where?”

“You can’t possibly think I’m leaving you alone right now. Come.” Took his hand and made him walk over to the car, helping him, not letting go for even a second, sat him down on the passenger seat and even put the belt on him, then walked over to the other side and started the car.

For the whole ride he hasn’t taken his eyes off of him, would throw glances at him, checking how he was doing, while Robbe looked out of the window, didn’t let Sander see his whole face but would look at him from time to time and smile to his self sadly, his cheeks still wet, hair messed up, clothes muddy, but to Sander, he still looked the prettiest person he has ever seen. “Where are we going?” He asked after a while.

“To mine.”

Where you belong.

May 17. 01:37

Robbe already knew that Sander lived alone but he was more than grateful for that fact right now. He texted his mom that he wouldn’t be able to see her tonight. He hasn’t even tried to refuse when Sander said he was taking him with him, to his house since all he really wanted to do was to be with him.

It was the first time he came to his home and the way the whole place just screamed “Sander” was so crazy. The walls were even done in black and white or had massive paintings all over them, a lot of posters on them and the paint smudges were visible on the couches.

He made a hot tea for Robbe and gave him some clothes to change into, which he did. They were huge on them, specially the T-shirt. And he hasn’t missed the way Sander looked him up and down when he walked out, but of course, didn’t say anything. He also hasn’t asked any questions about what happened, he was waiting for Robbe to speak up when he was ready.

They were sitting in front of each other, drinking their tea silently.

“So ... “ Sander started, looking at him.

“I broke up with Sebastian.” Robbe said and watched how he caught Sander off guard. He stayed quiet for a while, saying “oh” after a while.

“That’s all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“He’s my friend’s distant cousin and we - “ Robbe started but Sander interupped him.

“You don’t have to.”

Robbe shook his head. “No, no. You deserve to know. I want you to know.”

And after Sander mumbled a soft “okay” and nodded his head, Robbe started.

“You were right. I knew you were right but I was hoping that it would all go back to how it was before, our relationship, you know? But obviously it got worse and worse. It’s been going around like that for months but it got unbearable in the past few weeks.”

“When we met?” Robbe looked down.

“Yeah.”

“So it was mostly my fault then? I ruined your relationship?”

“No, no. It’s not true. You just opened my eyes. It was already ruined. Honestly, the whole thing was doomed before it even started, I was just too blind to see it.”

“It’s over now?”

“Yeah.”

He saw how Sander tried to hide his small smile and smiled himself and started to continue speaking.

“I wish it didn’t get to this and I know I should have listened to you. Even my friends didn’t like him and my mom but I didn’t listen to anybody. I guess I was so happy that I finally came out of the closet and I could be with a boy, fully open, that I didn’t notice all this toxic traits he had, or I just didn’t want to notice it. And I really wanted to just have a normal relationship and I also thought that I didn’t deserve something better than what I had and I - “

“You deserve the world, Robbe, and don’t let anybody make you believe that you don’t.” Sander stopped him to say this which made Robbe blush, ducked his head down. “You can tell me the rest tomorrow or whenever you want.” Robbe could feel that Sander was already looking at his face, but didn’t dare to look up. “You two are over and that’s what matters the most.��� And after a while, he added a quiet “I missed you.” Robbe hated how far they away were sitting from each other.

Not waiting for a response, he bent over a little bit and saw that Robbe finished drinking his tea. He asked him before, when they got here, if he wanted to eat something but Robbe refused, only wanted to have a hot drink.

“I think it’s better for you to get some rest now.” He stood up and Robbe followed him when he started walking, trying to calm down his racing thoughts and heartbeat.

Following Sander, he took him to the hallway towards his room which Robbe already saw when he changed his clothes. The room that looked more like Sander than even Sander did.

The room that Robbe instantly fell in love with as soon as he laid his eyes on it.

Sander turned back towards him. “You take the bed and I will sleep on the couch, I’m gonna change the sheets for you.” As soon as the word left his mouth, Robbe’s mood and heart dropped.

“N-no it won’t be necessary. You don’t have to change them.”

I want to feel and smell your aura.

“You sure?”

Robbe nodded his head, he was more than sure about that.

“Okay then.” He walked Robbe to his room and stopped by the door and looked at him while Robbe was still standing there, hesitating to go in, looking at the door intensely like it did something to offend him.

“Sander.” He whispered, his voice already on the edge of breaking, didn’t dare to look at him.

“I’m here, I’m listening.” The way his voice was so soft, so gentle, afraid of what Robbe was about to say and honestly, Robbe was afraid of that too but decided to go for it, decided that bottling stuff up wasn’t the way to lives anymore, decided to say what he wanted.

“Can you stay with me?” He whispered so quietly that he barely heard his own self but when Sander’s expression changed as soon as he heard those words, he knew, Sander heard it too.

“Robbe.” He started, the tone of his voice careful, rethinking what to say.

“No, please. Can you lay with me?” His voice broke at the very end, couldn’t control his self.

Sander sighed and looked away, making Robbe’s stomach drop on the floor.

“Robbe, I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.” He said softly, afraid of what reaction the boy would have.

Robbe nodded his head, his eyes getting wet but didn’t dare to show it.

“Yeah, okay. You’re right.” He said and walked in the room without looking back.

But he managed to hear Sander’s weak whisper. “In another universe, I’d stay.”

May 17. 03:03

Sander couldn’t sleep, he tried but he couldn’t so he gave up. He knew he’d have to stay up for the whole night. His mind going wild, coming up with new scenarios and scenarios, didn’t know how he should feel. He was happy that Robbe ended things with this jerk, but he was also sad about what kind of situation he had to see Robbe just a few hours ago.

He was devastated about how much that horrible boy messed him up, how many lies he fed him, made him believe that he wasn’t worthy of anything good in life. He has no idea what happened between them but it must have been so bad that Robbe decided to end things with him for real this time after so many failed tries. He also couldn’t think nor sleep because he knew, Robbe was here, in his house, in his room, just a few feet away from him and he has never felt more close and far away from him at the same time.

The past week has been one of the hardest he has ever had to go through. He thought that he lost Robbe for good when his phone stayed silent for days. He even consider texting him again, telling him that it was okay if he didn’t want anything to do with him, beg him to come back to him and he’d take all the pain, all the torture, just to see him again, just to be close to him again, he didn’t care about anything else now, but the part of his self which was already hurting and didn’t need any more pain won, he stayed selfish and hope that it would make Robbe realize the truth and it kind of worked. He’d see how Robbe was active on the Instagram, check his profile again and again, trying to fill the voice inside him by doing this but it was doing the worst.

Noor tried to take his mind away and made him have fun but it didn’t work, nothing could get him to stop thinking about the boy who was sleeping on his bed right now.

He didn’t know what to feel when he saw that Robbe texted him, happiness at first, doubt next, and when he found that he wasn’t well, worry. The anxiousness creeping inside him, unable to let him go.

And after seeing him like this, he’s sure, the part of him died but he felt closer than ever to him, saw that he needed help too. And maybe, just maybe, they could heal and help each other together.

He didn’t even know what time it was but he was still wide awake when he heard footsteps.

Robbe walked slowly, probably afraid of waking Sander up and he gasped a little bit when Sander asked “can’t sleep?”

“No.” Robbe walked up to him, Sander could feel. And when he felt the weight press down on the couch, his heart started beating fast.

“W-what? What are you doing?” He asked nervously but stayed quiet when he felt Robbe laid down next to him, touching him on every part of his body.

For a long time, both of them were quiet until Robbe spoke up, hot air coming out of his mouth, touching pleasantly on Sander’s skin, creating goosebumps all over him.

“I don’t want to be alone. I can’t.” And he put his arms around him, put his head on his chest, entwining their legs together. Sander was sure he stopped breathing, couldn’t move, still processing what was happening.

“Please, don’t let me be alone.” And as if these words had some kind of trigger and effect on Sander, he tighten his grip on him, pulling him close, kissing his forehead.

“Never.” He could feel Robbe’s breathing on his chest, slow and steady but still fast somehow.

“Never again.”

May 17. 10:21

As soon as Robbe woke up, he was met with the fresh smell of breakfast which was served right next to the coffee table, by the couch they slept on last night. His eyes went wide, and he looked around.

He saw Sander sitting on the other side of the couch, with a sketch book in his hands, on his lap. He looked up when he saw Robbe moved his head up and smiled at him. “Good morning, beautiful boy.”

“I-is this for me?” He asked.

“What?” And when he saw how Robbe was staring at the food, he realized.

“Oh, breakfast? Of course. I hope you will like it. I’m not the best chef but I try.” And he gave him the most amazing and cheeky smile Robbe has even seen, showing off his dimples.

“You made it for me?” He still couldn’t hide his surprise and amazement and Sander noticed too.

“Yeah?” He said as if he was saying the word “duh” and Robbe felt a weird sensation about how this was not a big deal to Sander at all.

“Why?”

Sander looked at him like he was dumb.

“So you could eat? What kind of questions do you have?” Robbe looked at the food again, sitting on the table and he felt so much happiness radiating on his body.

Sander made the breakfast for him, while he was asleep so he could eat as soon as he woke up.

Nobody has even made him breakfast.

He was sure he’d cry if he was alone just because of this.

“Did you eat already?” He asked.

“No, I wanted to wait so we could eat together.”

Robbe is sure, whatever he was feeling must have been his heart, melting away.

They started eating together but the peace didn’t last long when Robbe accidentally dropped his fork on the ground.

His eyes went wide. “Shit, shit. I’m so sorry. I swear I will clean up, wait.” and he stand up and started pacing around.

Sander looking at his panic like he grown a second head.

“Hey, it’s okay. Relax. It’s nothing.”

“No, I made a mess, I can’t do anything right, I’m sorry, I will - “ but he was stopped when Sander put his hands on his cheeks, made him stop and look him in the eyes.

“It’s fine, Robbe. It’s nothing. You didn’t do anything.”

It took a little more convincing but in the end, Sander managed to calm him down and make him realize over what he was getting anxious about. And they finished their breakfast calmly after that, until Sander saw something on Robbe’s wrist that made his jaw clenched, but he tried to control his self.

“Can I see your hand?” Robbe looked at him confusingly.

“My hand?” He looked down and his eyes went wide, seeing a few purple and yellow bruises on his wrist.

Sander didn’t wait for a response and took his hand in his own slowly and softly, observing it.

“Did he - “ he started but didn’t finish, it was already obvious and it got confirmed when Robbe stayed quiet.

“I’m gonna kill him.” He growled.

“It’s alright. He must have put a little too force on it when I tried to walk away.”

“No, it’s not alright. Has he ever done something like this before?” He asked and Robbe shook his head.

“No, he never used - yeah, he hasn’t.”

What Sander did next was so unexpected, he took his hand close to his face and kissed his bruises. Robbe swallowed. And when Sander put it down, he gave him a look that Robbe couldn’t quite understand, a look filled with something so pure and unique, his legs started shaking.

“Robbe.”

“Hm?”

“Did you really mean that?”

“Mean what?”

“That you want to be with me?”

“I mean it but “ Sander’s expression totally changed at the last word.

“But?”

“I don’t think I’m ready to be with somebody right now.” Sander breathed out, relived and smiled at him.

“I will wait for you, no matter how long it will take. Didn’t I tell you that you’d be worth the wait? Just tell me that it will happen in the end.” He took a step closer to him, looked deep into Robbe’s eyes. “Just tell me that we will happen.” Robbe got lost in his eyes, forgot to answer, forgot to think, forgot to breath.

“We’ll happen.”

Sander smiled at him. “Then you have nothing to worry about. I’m here and I will always be here alright?”

Robbe couldn’t help but ask with a shaky voice. “You promise?”

“I do. I promise and you know how much I hate breaking promises.”

A special and huge thanks goes out to @cleocc for helping me plan this chapter and talking to me about it.

Chapter 23

[hayjeon]

You Set My Heart on Fire 01 [M] ft. Namjoon

→ fireman!namjoon and paramedic!y/n au (warning: drunken sex, oral, etc.)  → 10k words, part 1 | part 2 | fin. → As a surgeon forced to volunteer as a paramedic in the Seoul Fire Department during an unfortunate probation incident, your one and only goal was to get to work, do your thing, and get the hell home and back to your original high-salary job. But when the SFD’s Chief is the incredibly attractive, cocky, and persistent Kim Namjoon, things start to get heated.  

Hi! this is a reupload, and i figured i’d vamp up the title and the header in the meantime! Thank you to the user who managed to save this just in time, after I accidentally deleted it T___T I am forever indebted to you, and I lost your username, so if you see this pls dm me i’d love to write something for as a token of my appreciation!

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair as the lawyer continues to lay out the demands.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you huff, glaring at the idiot gangster who’s at the other side of the room. He cringes a bit at your glare, nursing an ice pack against his bruised cheek.

“I swear, he slapped my ass! I was just retaliating!” You cry, frustrated. Your surgery chief huffs angrily at your behavior and you settle back, clenching your fists on top of the table.

The lawyer snarks back, “You also managed to cause damage to the victim’s body in the process. He’s demanding full reparations. Let’s see,” she muses, flipping through the documents spread out on the table between the both of you. “A broken nose, bruised cheekbone, fractured wrist from when he fell, and muscle strains on his lower back, and psychological damage from framing him for sexual harassment and from the physical assault. In total, it would amount the hospital to about $50,000 to cover the hospital costs and the time he would need to talk off from his job, and the continued physical and mental therapy sessions to follow for around 6 months.” She closes the file with a grin. “So, Dr. Y/N, what’s it gonna be?”

“Chief, I can’t believe we’re just losing to him!” You cry, following after Dr. Kim, who’s seething as he storms down the hall outside of the conference room.

He screeches to a halt, turning around with a glare. “Well, what do you wanna do?!” He throws his hands up in defeat, “You want to cause a whole legal issue? You know that there’s really nothing else we can do in this situation! It’s your word against his, and the video cameras only show proof of him passing by you, and then you throwing a big ass punch in his fucking face!” He cries, taking off his glasses and rubbing his temples.

“Look, Dr. Y/N, you did the right thing. The fucker deserved the punch, and you threw a good one. But,” he continues, placing his glasses back on his nose and patting your shoulder, “giving him the money is the best thing we could do for both the hospital and for you. So, just, take this next month off, get the community service done and then come right back. Alright? I’ll even let you head all the interesting cases that come into the operating room.”

He sighs, and walks off, leaving you behind. You roll your eyes and run a hand through your hair, fist clenching on the brochure of community service options for doctors.

The fucker had brought his girlfriend in during your shift at the emergency room, and while she was getting stitches for a cut that she got from a building collapse, in the craze of the emergency room, he was going around touching asses. You’d heard the nurses complaining about it, about how it was just a swipe of the hand that seemed like an accident, but multiple had the same experience from the same seedy-looking jerk.

When it was your turn to go up to the patient and explain that her stitches were done and she was alright to go home, he’d come up next to you and his knuckles grazed the skin of your ass. Sick of everything, you’d pushed him back and socked him straight in the face.

Later, from the cameras though, there was no visible evidence of him touching anyone, and it was your word against the clear security camera shot of you socking him right in his big ass nose. So you open the brochure and plop down at your desk to see what options there were. There were the general ones, where you could serve and clean up at a park or volunteer at a soup kitchen, and then there was a separate page for doctors who probably just wanted to maintain their skills in the field they volunteered in. You pick up the phone.

“What?” Yugyeom asks, “Chief seriously ended up giving you a probation period for community service?” He sighs over the phone, and you roll your eyes too.

“Yeah,” you huff, “which one should I do? I should sign up today, since it might take a bit to get approved and might as well start early so I can go back to work as soon as I get all my hours finished.”

He muses, probably scanning the picture you sent him. “Hm...well look, you can go travel to Africa or Cambodia or something. It’ll be like that one drama with Song Joong Ki in it. Maybe you’ll meet a hot military general. What do you think?”

“Too far,” you complain, taking a red pen and drawing a line through it. “Also, they don’t cover air fare or housing. Maybe something more local.”

“Okay, well then what about teaching kids in elementary and high school about general first aid and health? You can maybe meet a single teacher who’s good with kids. That’s kind of hot.”

“I fucking hate kids, Yug, you know that,” you sneer, rolling your eyes and crossing out that option. “Also, why are you trying to get me laid, you should be worried about your own empty gay love life.”

He huffs, “Well, bitch, if you’re gonna be so picky why’d you call. Just take the second to last one, the medic for the fire department! It’ll be fun, I know a friend who works in the one that’s close by to the hospital, so you can just commute from there and if you guys ever end up coming to the emergency room, you’ll see all of us there too.”

You hum, scanning through the brief description: Medic for the Seoul Fire Department. In-department housing and meals provided during both on-call and working hours. Needs basic EMT and paramedic skills. Must be able to handle emergency situations calmly and communicate with safety officers.

You purse your lips, scoffing a little bit at the emergency part. “Well, if there’s something I can handle, it’s emergency.”

He laughs, “What a downgrade...from a cardio surgeon to a paramedic. Jeez, you better get out of this one quick. Just make sure not to punch anyone during duty, and you’ll be fine.”

“Shut up bitch. Let’s go clubbing tonight. I need to let some of this stress out before I get trapped in there.”

The night was lively and the drinks kept flowing. Jennie and Jackson from Health and Nutrition, Sana from pediatrics, Yugyeom and Seulgi from Cardio, and even the oh-so-popular Jaebom and Jinyoung from general surgery came out.

You were dressed in the hottest dress you could find in Seulgi’s closet, and according to Yugyeom’s apparently “gay and therefore superior opinion,” your outfit and hair and makeup were basically a “straight guy’s ticket to bonertown.”

“Legit, how could you be so gay but also talk like such a frat boy at the same time?” You sneer, taking another shot of vodka.

He sucks on his lemon, and then flashes a smile. “It’s the best combination. I pull.”

He cocks his chin to a direction behind you. “Also seems like I was right, because you’ve been pulling too. That guys been staring ever since we got to the bar.”

You turn, blurry vision settling on a handsome, leather jacket clad guy that’s sitting with two other guys at the table. He’s looking now, eyebrow cocked and lip between his teeth. He’s not usually your type, but you feel it. This, was the guy you were gonna fuck tonight.

You get up, patting Yugyeom on the arm. “Thanks, I’ll take myself home tonight.” He whistles behind you as you try your best to make your way to the guy, but suddenly your drunk ass hobbles on your Forever 21 heels, and you topple to the side. All of a sudden, there’s a strong hand gripping your upper arm and pulling you up, and an arm wrapping around your waist to offer support.

“Oh shit, miss, you alright?” A low voice sounds right next to your ear. You look up, expecting to see the leather jacket guy, but this...this was much better. This guy was dressed in only a black t-shirt tucked into blue jeans. But his simple ensemble didn’t matter. He was tall, way taller than you in your tallest heels, and he smelled so damn good. His hair was slicked up and his skin absolutely golden. He wasn’t biting his lip or doing anything to try and hook up with you, but in seconds, you were sopping wet.

No, this was the guy you were gonna fuck tonight.

“I will be,” you answer him, straightening up and pressing yourself up against him. “when you buy me a drink.”

He seems to understand what you’re getting at. He chuckles a bit, eyebrow quirking and you think it’s the hottest shit you’ve ever seen since waterproof scrubs. He helps you straighten up. “I think you’ve had enough drinks already. Can I get you some water?”

“Yes,” you breathe, but not letting go. “But only if you stay with me until I’m finished.”

He smiles, and keeps his hand on your waist as he guides you the bar and orders a cup of water. You sit on the single empty bar stool, and he stands, and you revel in the fact that even on this tall bar stool, he still stands taller than you.

You sip the water, and he leans an elbow on the bar, inches from you.

“So, what brings you stumbling into this bar?”

“I’m here with some coworkers,” you say, and he leans in closer to hear you over the loud music.

“Won’t they be looking for you?”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” You pout, and he laughs, shaking his head.

“Hell no, I’m just worried.”

“Wow, and they say chivalry is dead.” You fire back, and he laughs again.

“You gonna keep laughing at my jokes or are you gonna ask me to come home with you?” You raise your brows as you sip your water, looking at him over the rim. His expression darkens, but the corner of his mouth sexily turns up.

“I might laugh a little more just to tease, I suppose. Helps build up for later.” He leans up, hand on the bar, but steps a bit closer to you this time. If you leaned up a bit, you’d kiss. He chuckles again, and you can feel his breath on your lips.

You roll your eyes, “Shut up and kiss me already.”

He smiles and leans down, other hand cradling your waist as you reach up and tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling harshly when he slides his tongue into your mouth as soon as you open up for him.

He’s a good kisser. He knows how to move his lips, knows when to pull back to leave you wanting for more, and does that thing where he stops kissing to just peck wetly at your lips before sinking in for more. Hook, line, and sinker. You’re done. “Let’s get out of here, please,” you whimper against his lips, and he smiles, straightening up.

“As you wish. Oh, also what’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you shout over the music. “What about you?”

“You can call me Joon.” He smirks.

The ride to his apartment is blurry, because all you remember is a lot of giggling and trying not to moan at how his hand is so big around your thigh that you have you physically restrain yourself from jumping him on the highway right there. The tires screech as he parks and you both laugh as you stumble into the elevator, giving the security guards watching the cameras a show when you straight up make out with him in the corner of the elevator, his hand up your dress and your hand up his shirt.

He pushes you against his closed door, dropping his keys and jacket on the ground as he undoes the zipper on your dress. You tug at his shirt, “Off,” you whine, and he smiles, stepping back to whip his shirt off with one hand behind his neck.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” you whimper, and he kisses you breathless. “You’ve been saying that all night. Creative, much?”

“Fuck off, I don’t do hook ups much and I’m just telling the truth,” you say, as he gathers you in his arms and literally picks you up and heads to his bedroom. His hands squeeze your ass as he makes his way over, and you catch a glimpse of a neat, tidy living room. His bedroom is clean too, especially for a bachelor. Navy blue sheets, sleek, black furniture, expensive looking place. He was literally so fucking hot.

He drops you on the bed and immediately drapes over you, his jeans rubbing against your soaked panties. He slides his splayed palms up from your waist up to your breasts, mouth following the motion as he laves his tongue over your nipple, palm gently cupping the weight of your breasts in the grip between his thumb and the rest of his fingers. You preen at the sensation, back arching off the bed. “Pants off,” you pant, squirming underneath the warmth of his hands and mouth.

“So bossy,” he comments, smirking as he leans up on his knees to undo his belt. “I dig that.”

You lay back, taking the time to wiggle out of your soaked panties. You thank the gods you chose to wear your new set of lace undies because the rest of your drawer was basically an ocean of white granny panties. He finally drapes back over you, hand gripping your thigh to open you up as he mouths at your neck.

You retaliate by reaching down and gripping his cock, hand squeezing at his base. You can’t really see it because your face is nestled in his shoulder, but you can feel how hard and big he is. He groans at the sensation, nipping at the sensitive skin behind your ear, sending tingles down your spine and your core clenching around nothing.

He props himself up as he looks down at you and slides a finger between your folds. Your yelp dissolves into a drawn out moan. “Oh my god,” you pant, as he slides the flat of two fingers over your bundle of nerves, “please don’t stop that.” You also work your fist over his cock, mouth blubbering nonsense into his neck. He moves the fingers down into your pussy, sliding in with practically no resistance and slowly drawing them in and out your wetness. You don’t really have much time to be embarrassed by the wetness you can hear, because Joon closes his eyes and bites at the soft skin at the top of your breast.

“Shit,” he grits, and he looks down to see the way your wetness glistens on his fingers, “I don’t think I can wait. Are you good?”

You nod eagerly, and you let go of him as he gives you a hard kiss on the mouth and slides a condom on while still fingering you. Its probably not porn-worthy whatever sounds you’re making, but it seems to do the trick because he kisses you even harder and then flips the both of you over so that you’re sitting in his lap. He cradles your waist and descends on your breasts again, tongue circling your sensitive nubs as you sink down on him inch by inch.

When you bottom out, you clench around him. He’s so long and thick, and it’s been a while since your last hook up. It borders on soreness, but the sensation of him moaning with your nipple in between his lips is enough of a distraction for you to work up the nerve to start moving.

It’s embarrassing how turned on right now you are, but Joon seems to be at the same level of deliriousness because he doesn’t stop touching you. From gripping your thighs, to groping your ass, sliding his hands from your waist up to your ribs, tangling in your hair, gently curling around your neck and tightening slightly, he’s literally everywhere.

“Fuck,” you cry out when one of his hands are around your neck, squeezing lightly. You slow down, grinding instead of bouncing, and the new rhythm puts your clit in that perfect position to get stimulated by his pelvis, and his cock hitting that perfect spot inside of you that you find yourself hurtling over the edge much faster than you’d imagined.

He mouths at your cheek and ear, hand still around your neck when you cum, and suddenly he grips your thigh and presses you down against his pillows as he kneels in front of you and begins fucking you hard. The bed knocks against the wall, but you can’t care because the new position has your orgasm prolonged to a point that you’ve never felt before and your mouth just stays open in a mouthless cry against his chest as he tenses and finishes into the condom, mouth panting hoarse compliments into your ear. “Holy shit, your pussy feels so good. So tight, fuck.”

He pulls out and rolls over so he’s not crushing you, and you let out a final breath. “Wow,” you say, chest heaving as he ties the condom and throws it away. He props his head up on an elbow, grinning at you. “That good?” He says cockily, and you turn to lightly punch his chest.

“Don’t get too cocky. It was just one orgasm.”

“But also seems like the best you’ve ever had.” He adds. You roll your eyes and retort, “Well, that’s what you think--,” but your laugh dissolves into a moan again when he reaches over and pulls you underneath him to press a long, wet kiss to your mouth.

“Shut up,” he whispers between kisses, "and kiss me back already.” You smile as he kisses you, fingers tangling in the hair at his nape, and scratching lightly at his shoulder blades. He growls, and moves to your neck. You sigh as he draws more open-mouthed kisses down your neck and torso, and again when a big hand splays over your thigh to hook it over his shoulder. He presses a peck against your folds and looks up at you, and you mewl as he draws the flat of his tongue thickly through your pussy all the way up. You’re a goner.

“I’m gonna make sure you never forget my name.”

The walk of shame isn’t so bad when you basically have no time to waste as you gather your things and glance once back at Joon who’s still sleeping before running down to his lobby. You don’t really care for the disapproving looks you get, as you rush to get into your uber, and immediately thank god that this particular driver offers you a tiny complimentary water bottle. You chug it down, and try not to throw up.

You literally hurtle out of the car when he gets to your place, making a mental note to tip him heftily, seeing the way he booked it when you asked him to hurry a little. You step into a hot shower and don’t even have time to pick up the dirty clothes off the floor as you quickly dress in a white shirt and navy skirt and run out of your apartment to the bus stop.

Thankfully, you make it on time to your interview, and even though the captain gives a small disapproving look to your wet hair tips, he gives you a huge,  bright smile when you tell him you’re a cardio surgeon “taking a break.” When you told him that you used to work as a paramedic before medical school a few years ago, he basically hired you on the spot, babbling on about how much he loves people with more experience.

“So, miss Y/N, what are your interests, your hobbies?” Hoseok trails like a little puppy after you as you walk down the hall from the Fire Captain’s office to your team’s multipurpose room. You frown at him. “Eh,” you brush him off, “not much.”

He smiles, pushing his hair back from his face and trying to stand up tall, “Well, doctor, I love lifting weights and saving damsels in distress. What are you doing later, say, around 5?” You turn on your heel, and he bumps into you, scuttling backwards at the glare you have on your face.

“Look, honey,” you sneer, stepping towards him with a scowl, “You’re cute, but I’m hungover.” you say, scanning him up and down, “And I’m only here for a month and I swear if I have to spend the entire 30 days having you chase me down like a little pet, then I’m probably going to just jump off a building. Okay? So do me a favor, and stop asking me out.”

He gawks at you, and then recovers. “Wait...you’re only here for a month?”

Rolling your eyes, you resume walking towards the wait room. He wasn’t going to stop. “Yes, I’m here just to serve a short community service sentence.”

He hums, following your footsteps again, grinning. “Okay, fine. I won’t try to ask you out. I’ll just keep replaying the part where you said I’m cute over and over again in my head.” He winks at you lightheartedly.

“Here, let me introduce you to the guys.” He walks a bit faster than you as you approach the room, and creaks the door open and lets you in.

As soon as the door swings open, your eyes grow wide as you take in the sight in front of you. In the room, theres a half naked guy digging through the refrigerator, his firefighter’s outfit hanging around his hips. A pair of muscular large ones are wrestling in the corner, also only decked in sweatpants low on their hips. One lounges on the couch in a pair of glasses and a plain white t-shirt and navy uniform pants and boots, while a similarly dressed shorter one is asleep. A tall one is in the corner playing with a tiny puppy. All six of them swivel their heads towards you when you enter.

You wave awkwardly and take a step back to leave when Hoseok bounds in after you and throws an arm around your shoulder, announcing proudly, “Hey guys, this is the new medic hire! Dr. L/N!”  

The one closest to you gives you a smile, taking off his glasses and setting his book aside to reach out a hand. “Hey, I’m Seokjin, captain. Nice to meet you doctor!” He smiles and you make a note of how hot he looks in glasses and how broad his shoulders were.

“You can just call me by my first name, y/n,” you shake his hand, “Likewise.”

Another one that was digging through the fridge approaches you with a piece of gummy candy hanging from his lips. His face is sharp, but he breaks out in a huge smile that lights up his face. “Taehyung! Hi y/n, welcome to Unit 55!”

You shake his hand too, “Thanks. Do you have any firewomen?” You glance around as the pair who were wrestling stop their antics and approach you shyly. The taller one shrugs, his muscles rippling as he does and you make a huge effort not to stare. “No, honestly it’s really hard to find a firewoman these days and they probably don’t like spending time with all guys like us either.”

Taehyung leans over. “That’s Jungkook by the way.”

His partner punches Jungkook’s bicep and turns to you with a show-stopping smile. Oh. The girls would swoon for both of them, you note. They’ll have no problem finding firewomen who want to spend all day with them. “I’m Jimin. And even though this idiot makes us sound like a bunch of goons, it’s just rough being around 7 guys all the time for girls probably. But we’ll do our best to help you get comfortable around here. We’re really fun, I promise!”

You frown, glancing around the room and counting the people you’d met already. Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung, Jungkook and Jimin. Which left just the one still asleep somehow through all the commotion on the couch. Seeing your eyes trail over him, Seokjin looks at you over the rims of his glasses, pointing at the sleeping figure with his chin. “Oh, yeah. That’s Yoongi. Good thing he’s not awake cause he’s really grouchy, but he’s also a really good driver so we keep him. You should meet him later when he’s done with his nap.”

You laugh a little, and nod. “And the 7th?”

Jungkook throws on a shirt as he talks. “Namjoon, our unit Battalion Chief. He’s not here right now, but you’ll be able to meet him later. He basically runs this whole thing.”

“Oh I see,” you muse, and give a tight-lipped smile. “Well, maybe I’ll start moving my things in soon. Can you show me my room?”

“Bitch,” Yugyeom sneers as he watches open-mouthed as the guys help unload your car at the station. “You didn’t tell me that all your co-workers were single, hot guys that walked around shirtless all the time.” He frowns at you, ignoring your eye roll, and then switching 180 degrees and laughing and smiling when Taehyung walks by with all your heavy trunks in his arms.

“Hahahaha, Y/N, you’re so funny,” he fakes, and then turns to you with a glint in his eye. “Maybe I should’ve punched that idiot in the face too and I would’ve been here instead.” He hisses, gawking at the way Jungkook and Jimin both easily haul your mattress up the steps. Shirtless, by the way. Again.

You sigh. “It’s only for a month. And honestly, you’re such a fake ass little bitch. You were the one trying to find me a man, and now that I’m surrounded by them, you resent me for it?” you huff. “Oh, Jin, those drawers just go in the closet, thank you.”

“No problem Y/N,” Seokjin grins, pushing up his glasses as he walks past you two easily, holding up the chest of drawers that took both you and Yugyeom an entire twenty minutes to shove in the moving truck. You give him a smile in return and turn back to Yug with a snort. “Wipe your drool.” You laugh, and he closes his mouth with a clack.

“I’ll literally visit you, like all the time, Y/N,” he whispers.

“Please don’t.”

“Oh also,” he turns to you inquisitively. “What happened last weekend? Did you end up going home with that hot guy?”

You pull him closer. “Keep your voice down,” you hiss. “Yes. I fucked him.”

He whistles lowly. “He wasn’t that good?”

Sighing, you check to make sure all the other boys aren’t in the vicinity. “No, that’s the problem. He was too good. I can’t stop thinking about it. Haven’t had a proper orgasm since.”

He looks unsurprised. “Well, when’s the last time you got laid. College?”

“Shut up, asshole,” you frown, “It’s only been like...a few months.”

“Okay, so I guess we’re calling last year’s during our we’re-not-interns-anymore-party a ‘couple months’ ago. It was like 13 months ago.” He points out, and you glare at him.

“Fine,” you snap, “okay? It’s been, like a year. But he was really good, no matter how deprived I’ve been.”

Yugyeom still looks unimpressed, so you pull his sleeve down to whisper in his ear. “I had five orgasms that night.”

He straightens up, turning to you with wide eyes, “FIVE ORGASMS?”

You wince as chief walks by with a stern look, and you pinch Yugyeom in the side as you laugh, “Oh hahahaha, Yugyeom, you’re such a hilarious guy. Why would a patient even talk about those kinds of horrible things in the waiting room?!”

That seems to help as the chief’s expression lightens and he smiles as he grabs a cup of coffee and ascends the stairs again. You drop the smile as soon as the chief is out of earshot and punch Yugyeom hard.

“Little bitch,” you hiss, “are you trying to get me fired?”

He rubs the spot that you punched. “Ow, and no. I’m just shocked. Did you even get his number or something?”

You sigh, watching as the boys come back down to retrieve a couple more things. “No,” you say forlornly, “I literally had to run out for my interview. I only know his name, and I’m not even sure if its right.”

Yugyeom sighs, watching Jungkook and Jimin banter as they come back down.

“Well, at least you have guys like them to keep you company. Did you bring your vibrator along?”

You pinch him again.

With the help of the boys, moving in wasn’t a problem. Surprisingly, the bunk rooms aren’t at all what you’d expected. It was less of a college dorm room style, and more of like a communal housing unit. Apparently, the Seoul station had updated their housing recently, so the inside looked like a newly furnished office hotel, basically.

Jimin was nice enough to move into Hoseok’s room so that you could have the corner room all to yourself, with a private bath attached. It was adequately sized, but there was a nice closet and twin size bed attached, which was an upgrade from the dinky communal on-call room bunk beds that the hospital provided for the residents to sleep in.

There wasn’t even much to unpack, besides a few articles of clothing, a desk and computer for you to do some catching up on hospital paperwork, a mattress so you could sleep on without knots in your back, and your toiletries. You had a uniform anyway, and you were pretty low maintenance. The hospital shifts didn’t really give much space or time to pay attention to your fashion sense or your looks, and it wasn’t going to change now, either.

You make your way downstairs after finishing, with the stairs of course. The boys had kept trying to convince you that you won’t die if you try the pole, but honestly you weren’t down to break your ankle, especially when you were expected to help during an emergency situation. The stairs were fine. You were only on the second floor anyway.

The boys are already eating in the large lounge, and you see that the sleepy fireman had woken up and had starting to cook.

“Y/N!” Jungkook calls, scooting his chair over to make room for you at the center of their table. “Here!”

You smile and set down your phone, taking a seat as Taehyung brings you a tray. Its pasta and steak, with a huge side salad and green beans. You gape at the cook who’s still engrossed in tasting and perfecting the sauce for the pasta.

“Yoongi hyung’s a really good cook,” Jimin says, with a mouthful of salad and steak. With that, the man in question appears behind the younger firefighter and hands him a cup of water. “Don’t eat and talk at the same time. It’s disgusting.” He says with a curled lip, and then gives you a nod.

“You’re the new paramedic hire right?” He asks.

You nod, “Hi, yes. I’m Y/N.” He shakes your hand, nods, and turns away. “Not much of a talker, is he?” You say, and the boys chuckle.

“Yeah,” Hoseok says, “Yoongi’s not really an extroverted type. But he’ll warm up to you, just give it time.”

The rest of the day goes by smoothly. You have to sit in your room for a couple hours though, watching boredly through the instructional training online lessons you had to complete before starting your first day. You’re close to dozing off when a soft knock sounds.

“Yes!” You sit up and turn, and Jungkook appears, smiling sweetly. “Hi, Y/N! What you doin’?”

You stick a thumb at your computer, “Training videos,” you sigh, curling your lip. “Why?”

“Oh, hyungs and I are gonna watch a movie. If you wanna come sit with us in the lounge and do your training or just watch with us, you’re welcome to!”

You pause. “Won’t it be loud? I probably won’t be able to get anything done.”

“I’m pretty sure Seokjin hyung has done basic training before. He can probably give you all the answers to those end-of-lecture quizzes.”

Now there was your incentive to go. You smile, standing up and closing your laptop. “Why didn’t you say that sooner? Let’s go.”

He guides you down to where the lounge is and all the boys chime a nice “hello” or “y/n!” when you appear in the doorway. You can see that a new episode of Game of Thrones is on. You pad over to Seokjin and he smiles when you ask him for the favor, and moves seats to the couch behind so you can sit with him and watch at the same time.

The night goes smoothly, you tapping Seokjin everytime you finish a lesson and him pausing to quickly finish the quizzes, and you joining in with the debates about the show occasionally. Yoongi brings out some snacks, and eventually Jimin brings out a blanket for you, and by the end of the episode, your training is finished and you’re sipping on soda and eating pizza.

It’s nice, you think, a lot nicer than the hospital. You were used to the competitive nature of medicine. It was always competing against the other residents or interns to get a spot that had ridiculously low acceptance rates. There was always no time to relax. This wasn’t bad at all.

But you shake your head. This was temporary. A break. No need to get attached. They’re just being hospitable. You give a tight lipped smile as the episode ends and you take your laptop and blanket with you as you stand. “Thanks, guys, for inviting me. I’m gonna turn in tonight.” you say, slowly shuffling away. “Good night!” Taehyung yells, and the other boys chime in one by one.

You set your stuff down in your room and get ready for bed. Laying in your single bed, with no one else snoring or sleep talking, and with no post-surgery fatigue to get you straight to sleep, it’s hard. You end up staring up at the ceiling of your room, sighing as you try to think of the most boring topics in the world to try and get to sleep.

“Just a few weeks, y/n.” you murmur, turning onto your side.

You’re finally dozing off when suddenly, the intercom you had no idea was located right outside your door bursts to life. “Code 904B Building Fire. Code 904B Building Fire.”

You scramble up, throwing your covers back as you stick your head out into the hallway. The lights are flashing brightly, but you can hear the sounds of the boys in each room getting ready. The first one out into the hallway is Taehyung, and he jogs up to you. “Put on your uniform, y/n,” he pants, “and meet us downstairs as soon as possible. We gotta go, and since it’s a building fire, there might be a few injuries you can help us with.”

“Okay,” you nod, as the rest of the boys begin appearing in the hallway with navy shirts on and their firemen overalls already on. They one by one disappear down the pole and you scramble to get the paramedic bodysuit on. You pull on your boots hastily and then sprint down the stairs, and see the chief addressing everyone.

“Alright, Yoongi and half of you in car 1, and the rest of you in mine. Namjoon is already in his way from his meeting, so he’ll meet us there. Let’s go!” The boys break out into jogs as they hurriedly begin packing the hoses tightly and jumping into the cars. “Chief,” you call out, “Where can I go?”

“Go with Yoongi!” He yells, and drives off, sirens wailing. You jump into the first car and immediately you’re surprised when Yoongi, usually lethargic and slow, slams on the accelerator and your own truck bolts into life. Stumbling into a seat, you ask Hoseok, “So, this is how it always happens?”

He nods solemnly, his usual playful smile gone. “24/7. We gotta stay alert.” You nod. He points to a large, bright orange utility box in the corner of the bus. “That’s your medic kit. You can look through it now if you want, we’ll be getting to the site in a few minutes.”

You nod, perching the box on the seat next to you and digging through it. It was pretty basic, syringes, bottles of lidocaine and epinephrine for stitch jobs, synthetic thread, scalpels, bandaids, alcohol, gauze, and more. You were used to working with the minimum at the emergency room. And seemed like whoever was in charge of this box had kept it neatly and pretty well-stocked. You lock the box when the truck begins to slow, and look out the window to see the commotion.

A large building has caught on fire, and already there are two other trucks unloading at the site, their firefighters already hooking up their hoses onto the fire hydrants and assembling into position to enter the building for any remaining people. The whole area smells like smoke and through it, the glow of the orange fire against the night sky is barely visible.

Immediately as the truck parks, the boys in the vehicle spring to motion. Their uniforms are already on, helmets, gloves, and oxygen tanks and all. One by one they jog out the door of the truck and do the same, unloading the hose from the side of the firetruck and linking it easily to the fire hydrant and getting ready to spray down the building.

You pull your hair back into a ponytail and look around for anyone who might be in need of help. There’s already a few survivors out around the area in the grass, and you run over to a woman laying down.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” You say as you approach her and kneel next to her. Her husband is crying. “Sir! Is she okay? What happened?”

“P-please! We were just picking up our son and then the burning piece of wood fell on her leg. No one has been able to h-help her yet! Our son is still in that building, too!”

You unlocked your box and reassured him, “Okay, sir, I need you to calm down and help me. Someone will go find your son, but we need to help your wife right now. Do you have a phone on you? Can you use the flashlight? I need to see the area.”

He does as you instruct with shaky hands, and you carefully use the scissors in the kit to cut a strip down her pants. The burn is quite bad and covers a lot of surface area, in addition to having a huge laceration down her thigh that needs to be stitched up now, in case of infection or bleeding out. You frown, she must have been in a lot of pain.

“Ma’am, can you understand me? This is going to be a bit painful, but I need to sanitize the area.”

She’s just sobbing at this point, but you can make out some words. “Please,” she sobs, “M-my s-son!”

You lean closer, “Sorry? Your son?”

She sobs and nods, “H-he’s still inside!!” She pushes your hands away from her leg, “I won’t be treated until I find him!”

You sigh, turning around to see if there are any firefighters available. You see one coming out of the building to replace his oxygen tank. You run up to him, unable to see anything but his eyes through the protective gear he was wearing.

“Hey! Hey, this woman I’m trying to treat is refusing treatment until she sees her son, and she claims he’s still inside. Please, if she doesn’t let me treat it right now, she might have to amputate her leg.” He nods, and follows you to the couple.

When they see him approaching, the woman goes hysterical. “Please!” She screams, “He’s still in there, on the second floor. I haven’t seen anyone bring him out!”

“Okay, ma’am, I’m going to go back inside for him. You need to calm down, and let this lady treat your leg, or else it could get worse. You need to stay strong for your son.”

She nods, and turns to you. You spring into action, giving the firefighter a nod as he stands. You frown, his voice sounded so familiar, but you couldn’t pinpoint it.

The lady begins wailing as the adrenaline fades and the pain of her injury begins to hit. You have her husband hold her hand as you pour some alcohol on the area and she wails as the open cut is cleaned out.

Quickly, you stitch up the wound and dress the burns so that they’re manageable. She refuses to take the ambulance to the hospital until she sees her son, so you coax her into just sitting on the gurney in the ambulance and wait for her son. You try and calm down the couple as you move onto address a few more people in the vicinity with minor cuts, scrapes, and burns.

Suddenly, you hear a commotion, and you turn to the building that’s now less of a bonfire and more of a quiet smolder, and the firefighter from earlier emerges with something in his arms.

The woman you had treated earlier immediately starts wailing and crying as the firefighter jogs over to you and her and sets a boy down onto a gurney. He’s unconscious, and the firefighter whips off his helmet as he addresses you.

“He’s breathed in quite a bit of smoke, and fell unconscious when I picked him up. He needs pediatric CPR!”

“Namjoon!” Hoseok cries out.

You gawk as you watch him yell instructions at you and the rest of the firefighters you’d met, brows furrowing and eyes widening as you recognize those slanted eyes, thick lips and angled jawline that you’d run your tongue over that one fateful night. It was Joon. He was a firefighter. His name was Namjoon.

“Y/N!” He grabs you by the shoulders, “Focus!”

You immediately spring into action, running towards the boy and checking his pulse. “Do you know how to do compressions on a pediatric patient?” You breathe, and Joon nods, throwing his helmet and his tank aside and opening the buttons on his uniform jacket before he climbs atop the gurney.

As he begins compressions, you deliver some shots on his arm and search his body for any large cuts or burns. You hook him up to an oxygen mask and turn up the machine to high. “Switch!” You call out, and your hands replace Joon’s as you climb atop him and begin compressions.

“One, two, three...” You count out, as other paramedics swarm around you to prepare him to be delivered to the hospital as soon as possible.

The boy stirs, and you stop compressing, and watches as he begins coughing, from deep within, and you help remove his oxygen mask and pull him up to a sitting position as he continues coughing the smoke and ash out of his lungs. A paramedic gives him some water and after the boy finishes coughing, you help him sip some water as he recovers.

The others help usher him onto a gurney and also help his mother and father join the ambulance.

You watch as the blaring sirens fade away and sigh as the remaining firefighters douse the building in water and put out the flames. Your knees are feeling weak, your heart up in your throat, and your breath short.

Feeling a presence standing next to you, you turn and meet eyes with him. You narrow your eyes at him, giving him a once over from his ash-stained angular face to the bulky equipment and uniform lining his body. Probably from the boots he was wearing, he seemed even taller than from the club.

He gives you a cocky grin. “So, you’re a paramedic, huh?”

You roll your eyes, stopping down to collect your materials and all the wrappers of the syringes and needles you had used to treat your patients.

“Not a paramedic, a doctor. On voluntary community service.” You huff.

He stoops down too, setting his helmet aside to help with your tools. “No wonder you’re good with your hands.”

You stop, sitting on your haunches to give him a look. He does the same, matching your cold gaze with a smirk. “I think that’s very unprofessional, Mr. Joon.”

You stand, locking the paramedic box angrily and stomp away.

But he easily catches up to you, having those damned long legs of his, and follows you to your truck. It makes you angrier that he begins unloading his equipment and uniform off into the same truck you came in.

“I think, Y/N, the moment you started making out with me at that club, professionalism was kind of thrown out the window, don’t you think? You disappear that morning without a trace, and then suddenly you appear again at my workplace. Don’t you think I have the right to be a bit confused and curious?”

“Look.” You turn to him. “That was a one-night thing. I told you that I don’t do them often, and it was a mistake and I’m sorry, I won’t do that to you again. So just--” you throw your hands into the air, frustrated that he looked so goddamn good as he took off his thick outer coat and stood in front of you with just a black t-shirt and the pants of his uniform low on his hips. “--just pretend it didn’t happen. Just forget about it.”

You turn to walk away into the truck, but he stops you. “Wait! Wait wait wait, Y/N,” he turns to face you, the smirk wiped away and now brows attractively collecting in a frown, “For the record, I don’t consider that night as a mistake.”

“Huh?” Your eyes widen as you frown up at him.

He doesn’t look away. The playfulness has dropped and he’s completely serious as his voice takes a lower tone.

“Sleeping with you wasn’t a mistake for me. Don’t apologize. I’ve only been able to think about you since then, and I don’t think that you showing up here out of all the other precincts or departments is another mistake, either. I’m sorry if I came on too strong, but I want to be clear with you that my intentions are to get to know you better, and do it the right way.”

“Do what the right way?”

“Date you,” he says simply, like he was talking about the goddamn weather.

Literally, who was this guy? Your mind was completely blank. Like, who just says exactly what they’re thinking? How could he just be so...honest? What’s his game?

You blubber out the first thing that comes to mind. “I don’t date co-workers. Especially here. I’m only scheduled to volunteer for several weeks.”

He seems to gain a bit of confidence. “Y/N, that sounds more like an excuse, than it does a reason.”

You huff, blowing your hair out of the way. “Nonetheless, the answer is no.”

He nods thoughtfully. “Don’t be surprised if I ask you again.”

And he does.

Every. Single. Day.

When you wake up, “Hey, Y/N, will you go on a date with me?”

“No,” you’d say, roll your eyes, and spit out your toothpaste.

When you’re in the library, reading up on the latest studies. He’ll pop his head in and say, “Oh, Y/N, dinner’s ready.”

When you look up and nod, “Thanks. I’ll be right there.”

He’ll nod back, and then say, “Oh by the way, will you go on a date with me?”

You’d learned to just laugh it off or ignore him.

When you’re in the dining commons. You’ll be chatting with Taehyung about something and Namjoon will walk by, hand you a mug of coffee, and walk away without a word. When you lift the coffee up to drink it after Taehyung leaves for something, you find a slip of paper on the saucer.

Will you go on a date with me?

You crumple up the paper while maintaining eye contact and drop it into the steaming cup of coffee. Then, you stand, and pour the mug out into the trash, while he watches with an amused smirk.

The only times he doesn’t ask you out is when you’re on calls.

Over the next few weeks, you notice that Namjoon has three modes: 1) His Chief mode, 2) his off-duty mode, and 3) his flirting-with-you mode. Modes 2 and 3 tended to mix, especially when he was with you.

But whenever that light on the walls of the department begin to ring and flash, indicating an emergency call, Namjoon immediately enters his chief-mode. One time, he was in the middle of taunting you with probable bad-date ideas, the lights began flashing and you had watched as he shook himself out of his off-duty mode, and immediately started barking out orders to the group and you, responding to the dispatch on his walkie-talkie. It had happened in a millisecond.

You were in the lounge with Seokjin and Jimin, watching a movie while Yoongi dozed off in one of the couches. You had slowly begun to easily sink into this lifestyle. You guys were lucky if you got at least a few hours in between calls to relax, and since the most recent call was a small issue with some old lady’s cat up in a tree, Hoseok and Taehyung had volunteered to go on their own. It was a relaxing Thursday afternoon.

Like clockwork, right as you were almost dozing off, the lights began to flash and blare as your walkie-talkies exploded to life and the dispatch officer began reading out the issue.

The boys spring to life, immediately jumping over to the pole and going downstairs to change into their uniforms. You sigh and use the stairs to run down to the garage and get into your uniform, clambering into the truck as Namjoon begins listing out orders. It was a gas leak in a chemical factory, and they wanted the firemen to take care of it. You were only following for protocol.

“It shouldn’t be too complicated. Yoongi, did you contact the engineers to shut off the power?” Namjoon asks.

“Yeah, they turned off all electricity, but they can’t turn off the gas valve. It’s stuck.”

“Okay, that’ll be the first thing to take care of. Jungkook, can you take care of that?”

You watch as the firetrucks pull in and follow the men into the warehouse. It’s completely dark but they all turn on their headlights as they treck through.

Namjoon leads them into the main gas chamber where one of the tanks is steadily leaking a stream of cold, compressed air out of it. Him and Jungkook immediately head over and begin working together to tighten the valve, while Seokjin begins looking for the pipe that leads into the tank.

You watch, boredly as the men do their thing, when suddenly, Jungkook yanks a bit too hard and both him and Namjoon are thrown back.

Jungkook immediately begins yelling out, and you scramble up in horror to see that he’d been thrown back into a piece of metal that was sticking out.

“Oh my god,” you cry out as you rush to his side. “Jungkook, hold on, I got you. Can you turn on your side so I can see the wound better?”

He moves while wincing in pain, but manages to maneuver so that the wound on his back is facing you. Using a flashlight, you make sure that the metal didn’t pierce any vital organs or arteries, and reassure him that it’s okay as you begin cleaning and stitching up the wound. After you’re finished, you look up to see Seokjin run into the room, and let you all know that he’d disassembled the valve and fixed the leak.

You sigh in relief as you cut the final thread and place some gauze over the stitches. Hoseok and Jimin had returned to help, and they throw Jungkook’s arms over their shoulders as they help him walk out of the building. You begin to pack your things, when you see Namjoon lagging behind the rest of the group, clutching his arm.

You catch up to him, “Hey, are you okay?”

He winces, but nods at you to go. “I’m fine. Catch up with the rest of them. I’ll be right behind you.”

You frown as you survey his features. The boys are now out of sight and you and Namjoon are the only ones left inside the chamber. “No, you don’t look very okay. Did you get hurt?”

He finally relents, groaning in pain as you guide him to sit down on some steps and remove his jacket. You gasp as his t-shirt comes off. Jungkook had been impaled when he hit the wall as he was thrown back, but it seemed that Namjoon had been in the direct line of contact when the valve of the pipe had blown off. It had sliced through his uniform and left quite a deep cut in his rib.

“Holy shit, Namjoon, you are not okay. Let me stitch this up right now.”

He shakes his head, “Let’s get out of here, first.”

You push him back. “If you keep moving, this wound is too close to your vital organs and it might cause infection or you might bleed out. Why didn’t you say you were hurt?”

He shakes his head as you begin unpacking your box of materials. For the first time in your few weeks at the department, you see a dark look of shame and regret written over his face. “I was the one who asked Jungkook to help me, if I didn’t, he wouldn’t be hurt.”

You click your tongue at him as you clean the wound, apologizing as he hisses in pain at the contact of alcohol. “You know, you say a lot of stupid shit, but that’s one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard you say to me. Ever.”

He laughs a little at that, wincing as it puts pressure on his side. You glare at him as you examine the wound and begin numbing the surrounding skin. “You’re a great chief, you know that. I’m administering some pretty heavy painkillers. Tell me when you start getting a bit woozy.”

He just silently watches you hover over his torso, squinting as you maneuver the hook needle and stitch him up. “I think that’s the first time you ever complimented me, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh, so now your chief mode is off, I guess.”

He furrows his brows. “Chief mode?”

You nod, snipping at the threads as you begin another stitch.

“You have these modes you enter on the job. One of them is when you become this intense, no-nonsense leader, telling us all what to do and what to get done.”

He smiles, “And the other mode?”

“There’s two actually,” you say, still focused on his wound, “There’s one that’s always flirting with me, and there’s a third, where I can see that you really, really care for everyone on this team. That third one is the mode you’re in.”

“Are you maybe getting turned on by that mode, Y/N?” He winks at you, and you laugh, poking him in his side and making him groan out as you finish dressing the clean wound and help him get his uniform jacket back on. “Shut up, now your flirty mode is back on too.”

You’re cleaning up the materials in your box when suddenly, the lights come back on, bright white, and as you and Namjoon are squinting to try and reassess your surroundings, the huge gate to the chamber closes with a hissing noise and a loud clang.

“Shit,” you hear Namjoon cuss, and you scramble up, running over to the door and searching for a handle, a knob, or a button, anything to get it back open. You click your walkie-talkie, waiting for the static to sound to let you know that it’s communicating, but there’s nothing.

“No use,” he winces, zipping up his jacket, “The company probably just turned the electricity on when they saw some of the trucks leaving.”

You watch in horror as the vents surrounding you begin hissing and cold air begins drafting in. “What is this?”

“It’s a containment chamber for flammable chemicals, so I assume that it stays at a cool temperature. It’s fine, some of the boys will probably realize we’re here and be back in no time.” He lays down against the steps.

“Namjoon!” You scramble over, “Do not fall asleep, do you hear me? The temperature dropping is going to make your wound even worse. You need to stay warm, stand up if you can.”

He frowns, curling into himself with a pout. “I’m cold.”

You roll your eyes. It was the painkillers kicking in. He was getting lethargic, and it could kill him. “I know, you big fat baby, but if we don’t start warming up, we might die in here. C’mon, stand up.”

He begins moving around, although you instruct him not to stress his wound, he begins rocking around on his legs to try and make some body heat. You do the same, waving your arms around and trying to generate some heat.

At one point, you lose complete sense of time, and Namjoon wakes up from the initial wave of his painkillers to find the both of you huddled in the corner of the chamber, knees curled into your torsos as you shiver in the cold.

“Y-Y/N,” he breathes, and reality dawns on him as he sees the mist of his breath fan out from his mouth. “Y/N?”

“S-s-so cold,” you chatter, curling into him as he puts his good arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer.

“D-don’t fall asleep,” he breathes, and you don’t respond, the chills rocking your entire shaking body as you curl into him further.

The walkie-talkie screeches for a moment, and Namjoon grabs it, responding back to the static. “H-hello? Anyone! Y/N and I are stuck in the main chamber! Temperature is dropping quickly. Hello?!”

The only response is static as he drops the walkie-talkie to just pull you in closer. “Y/N?”

There’s no response, and when he pulls back to try and look at you, your head lulls in his arms.

“Shit,” he mutters, “Y/N, Y/N!” He shakes you, but you’re completely unconscious in his arms. "Wake up!”

“No no no no no,” he chants, as he begins undressing, his whole body resisting the motions as he shivers in the cold, but he perseveres. He pulls his uniform open, baring his chest, and then proceeds to unbutton your uniform as well, baring a t-shirt underneath. He pulls your limp body close as he removes the t-shirt and then completely drapes himself over you, pressing your bare chests together as he pulls you tight against him, skin to skin.

He pulls the uniform tighter around your back so that you don’t lose any more body heat, when he finally hears yelling and pounding on the other side of the huge gate. He hugs you closer to himself before everything goes black, too.

[peachyunjinnie]

stray kids reaction:

their s/o reads/writes skz smuts.

requested: yes

a/n: this is just such a random request so i wanna do it! enjoy!

word count: 1.1k

chan

he will definitely be shook at first

seeing your open tab on your laptop when you left it open accidentally

his curiosity was just getting too big as he saw his own gif on the page

it was not his style at all but channie just had to know what that was

he read the title and saw a unfamiliar word on it

he is so confused what that all means but once he is reading the file he understands what you were doing on your computer all day long

he smiles but is so so shy

this boy's ears can be a redlight at a traffic

he is so flustered but he won't approach you about it

but makes sneaky comments when you're on your computer again

"enjoying what you're reading?"

"i wonder what you're doing on this site, little one."

"needy again?"

he will not make it a lot until you ask him what he is talking about

but he will rather show you what these fictional stories have in them instead of you reading it

minho

minho will be so so obvious about it

he will just not be hiding the fact that he saw what you're reading from his laptop

he was okay with you borrowing his laptop

but you didn't delete the history from your dirty little enouter to smuts

he won't tell you straightforward but as well make more obvious comments

that you immediately know that he knows

he will have so much fun with your flustered face

smirking like the cocky dom he is

just seeing the shade of your face changing into the whole rainbow

"i know i am hot but why won't you do that with me? i am here and i am all yours, y/n."

he will just ask you that but won't wait for your answer and just pull you into the bedroom

to fulfill your imagination about lee know.

changbin

changbinnie

ah changbinnie

he is such a softie for you

i don't really think he would say anything at all

he is just way too shy about it

just giggles when he reads through the smuts that you put in your library

changbin would just kind of enjoy reading those stories as well

just admiring the talent some writers have (!!)

kind of getting overly confident about how these writers write about his size

but other than that he wouldn't dare to tell you and just continue to live like always

you notice a change about how he is in bed

"changbin, you usually never do this. how come you changed so much?"

"i just got a better knowledge now, babygirl."

he learned a lot about those stories and how to step up his thrust game

but you can just enjoy it without knowing that he knows what you do on your phone

hyunjin

another man of curiosity

he was scrolling through his twitter stuff and noticed that he was still logged in as you

he wanted to change it but a hasthag that you typed in before catched his eye

'stray kids smuts'

he would lie if he said that he wasn't dying of curiosity

so he just searched it and oh god he was shocked on how much stuff you've liked and saved

he found one you've written yourself in your drafts

he was pleased to see his own name but he was hard from your piece of work

as soon as you came home again he was all over you and wanted

to do what your wrote about write now

"babe, you have such a dirty mind."

"i read your twitter stuff and damn, i want that right now."

jisung

jisung is a cocky dude

your misery and discomfort is his fun and amusement

he saw it on his google history and when i tell you

this man will HUMILIATE you SO hard

he will make jokes

"aww you need me so much, you even read about my cock."

"do you touch yourself while reading this? mh?"

"you're so cute, even though i fuck you more than enough. my kitten needs more."

he would make you so turned on and hot that you are basically dripping in front of him

he takes you to his bedroom and brings those stories to action

felix

lixie is so giggly

he finds it so cute that you would do this

that you would read something like this

when you could have him all day, everyday

he would be so turned on tho

like at the same exact time

he would love your dirty little secret

which is not really a secret anymore

he will ask you what that was tho

but like in a cute way

while hugging you or something

"i know your little secret, Y/N." he would whisper and giggle so hard

you are just as confused as he was when discovering your tabs full of 'stuff'

"what do you mean, felix..?" you had a bit of a bitter taste in your mouth

and you kind of knew what he was talking about

"come on, you know. the stuff you read about me."

"you know i would much rather do that instead of you reading those scenarios and imagining those things."

with that sentence he would just make the smuts into reality

seungmin

dude he would he such a little shit about it

he would just freaking tease you ALL DAY LONG

he really reminds me of minho

just those comments and 'mean' playful remarks

"like it when you read?"

"you aren't as innocent as i thought"

"you horny little kitty cat."

he is obvious but just stares somewhere else or just puts his concentrated eyes on something else

he is smirking but he won't touch you in any type of way

before you would confess about those books you were writing on your laptop

"seungmin come cuddle with me!"

"not until you tell me"

"tell you what?"

"you know what i mean"

that would go on until his neediness and yearning for you was too much

and literally is all over you

but he is still salty that you didn't tell him what you wanted with him

jeongin

A BIG SHY BABIE

he would he so so shocked when he saw the app you downloaded

but your iclould stuff was connected with each other

so whatever you download, also download on innies phone

so you downloaded wattpad and he was so curious about what that is

he just scrolled through the many books and discovered your wattpad account

jeongin deadass would read through the whole works and then just have the reddest face possible

he would never ever open his mouth about that topic

ever

he deletes the app and oppresses this memory in his brain

never happened and never talked about again