#what could i have possibly done to get this far with them?? for this long???

[yagirlwrites]

Angels & Demons | (Sub!Rafe)

Pairing: sub!Rafe Cameron x domme!Reader

Synopsis: Rafe asks reader to a Halloween bash, proposing they wear matching costumes. They have a conversation on where they stand. Lots of fun at the biggest party of the year.

Warnings: fluff, clingy!rafe, pouty!rafe, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 8.4k (I'm so so sorry I need psychiatric help)

A/N: Hi y'all! It's finally here, ignore the fact that its 10 days late - Happy Halloween🤣 This is really long and fluffy, some steamy scenes as well because it wouldn't be me without them 😘 The smut for the day after the party will be posted soon! Had to separate it because it would have been too damn long to read and y'all deserved to have this as soon as possible. Hope it's not too long anyway 😭 I am sorry for the delay but I hope you enjoy it! As always lmk what you think!

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My work is my own; it's not to be copied, transferred or translated. Reblogs, comments, feedback are always welcome and appreciated❤️

Happy reading 🥰

Angels & Demons

"I need you to sit still, baby." His heart soared, as it always did, when she called him that. He was currently sitting at her vanity while she patiently applied glitter to his face.

He felt restless, she was so close and she smelled so nice and she was touching him so gently. Looking at her, so beautiful, right in front of him was driving him insane. It was his own fault for being in this situation, getting ready for a party he suggested they attend. So he really had no right to be acting bratty. He just really wanted to kiss her and she was keeping him hostage in the small chair. The generous view of her cleavage bent over like this, courtesy of her costume, might also have something to do with his fading sanity.

It was a week ago when he suggested they go to the Halloween bash together. It was the biggest party of the year so far, spanning the entire greek street. It was always wild and intense, but he wasn't interested in that this year. He just wanted to spend time with her and his friends, and have a good time. This would technically be their coming out party and he was ecstatic when she said yes to coming. Even more so when he suggested they match their costumes, trying to play it off as no big deal, but in actuality extremely aware of the implications.

"Like, a couple's costume?" It came out of the blue. They had been cuddled up on her couch when he brought up the topic the party and asked if she wanted to come with him. Then he started acting all shy and flustered broaching the topic of outfits.

"Yeah. I don't know if you maybe wanted to match. Might be cool, I don't know." He was blushing in that way that made her heart melt like a popsicle on a hot summer day. He didn't even give her a chance to respond as he continued.

"Unless you don't want to or think it would be weird, it's totally fine we don't have to. It was just a thought..." he trailed off, not meeting her eyes, flustered and insecure. Her heart ached.

"Hey..." her soft palm met his cheek and forced him to look back at her.

"Why would it be weird?" Her gaze was warm and he was blushing even harder now. His thoughts felt scrambled, all the practicing he had done in his head vanishing into thin air when he was so close to her.

"I don't know. Maybe you don't see us..." he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders, not able to finish his thought.

"As a couple?" She offered, trying to help but driving him further up the wall instead. He just shrugged, keeping his eyes trained on the coffee table, feeling weak. She pushed him further onto the couch, straddling his lap in order to force him to look at her. His heart felt like it might burst out of his chest.

She said nothing, simply waited for him to speak up. Needing him to talk to her, instead of shutting down. They'd talked about this habit of his, she promised she'd never judge him and he promised he'd try his best to be as open with her as he could. So he had no choice then, not when she was looking at him like that. Not after he made her a promise.

"We never talked about it. So you might not." His eyes were running wildly all over her face, trying to be respectful and not look away but not brave enough to see the possible rejection in her gaze.

"Do you want us to?" He sighed, the feeling of her playing with his hair making him lose the last bit of dignity he had. He was so desperate for her he couldn't cope.

"Maybe..." she shook her head then. She hated that word, wished he would stop using it and just say what he really wants. But she knew it was hard for him so she didn't push it.

"Do you want us to be a couple, Rafe?" His eyes finally met hers, hearing the vulnerability in her voice. When they did, he saw no judgement, no rejection, just kindness. And he didn't have it in him to pretend anymore.

"I do." The beat it took for her to react felt like an eternity, his breath stuck in his throat.

"Good." She smiled, caressing his face so gently he thought he'd cry. She kissed his red cheek and whispered a soft "me too."

His heart skipped at her words, a bright smile finally making it's way onto his face as he hugged her so close, leading them both to almost fall off the couch. The only thing that could be heard in her small appartment was the sound of their giggles as they processed their emotional conversation.

"Fuck, I'm so relieved." He kissed her neck where his head was burried while he held her as close as possible. Her hands running though his hair in that soothing manner she knew he loved. She laughed as he peppered kisses on her skin.

"What? Did you really think I'd say no?" She pulled him back enough to look at his beautiful face. He had a sheepish smile on and his eyes sparkled with joy.

"I don't know." He shrugged in a careless manner, even though they both knew it was a front.

"Oh so you think I just let any guy sleep over and cuddle with me on the couch?" She was giving him a faux offended look and he couldn't help but laugh.

"I don't know, you might..." he grinned and she rolled her eyes.

"Bro, be serious." She pushed off of him to pick up the blanket that had fallen to the floor during their tumble.

"Bro? You can't friendzone me now!" He whined as she stood up, folding the blanket and then throwing it right in his cheeky little face. He let out a surprised yelp and she giggled as he rushed after her on her way to the kitchen. He looked like a lost puppy, incapable of not being near her, it seemed.

"So what's this costume?" He was looking at her throat as she gulped down a glass of water, completely zoned out when she asked the question.

"Huh?" He snapped his eyes back to her face but it was too late, she'd already noticed him ogling her. His ears turned a shade pinker as he tried to play it off.

"The costume you want to wear, what is it?" He looked confused.

"I don't know." He shrugged causing her to raise her eyebrow.

"You don't have a costume in mind?" He shook his head, grinning as he stepped closer to her.

"Whatever you want." She had to refrain from laughing at how cute he was, with his floppy hair and his rumpled clothes and his childlike grin.

"So now I have to come up with a couple's costume even thought it was your idea?" She played annoyed but he could see the smirk twitching at the corner of her mouth. He wrapped his arms around her and connected their foreheads, the intimate banter reducing them both to mush on the inside.

"Yep. Just want everyone to know." He nuzzled his nose into her hair as her fingers ran gently over his back.

"Know what?" He pulled back to look at her then. A rare moment of bravery.

"That I'm yours." Her breath caught in her throat at the way he said it. So sure, so honest, so utterly unashamed. It made butterflies appear in her stomach and she wanted to curse at how much she loved hearing those words come out of his mouth.

"That you're mine?" She kissed his face gently and his smile could not be bigger.

"Mhm. All yours." she blushed from the raw honesty in his words and he noticed. But before he could call her out on it she kissed him, making him forget whatever thought he might have had of teasing her.

It was heaven, whenever their lips met. They felt like they became one and it was so insane to think about that they refused to, simply letting themselves get lost in the pleasure of being with each other.

And now here they were, in her bedroom, putting the finishing touches on the costumes. He admired how stunning she looked, so focused and unguarded. He swore he had never seen a person more beautiful in his life. He couldn't stop a smirk from making its way onto his face as he took in her outfit. The tight leather bustier made her boobs look insane, the short black skirt leaving just enough to the imagination, and the skull shaped lace of her thights hugged her thighs so well he wanted to bite into them.

"One last thing" she positioned the accessory on his head and smiled at the result.

"Perfect." He blushed at the compliment, turning around to face the mirror and finally see her hadiwork.

He looked flushed and soft, the sparkles on his face matching the ones on the halo atop of his head. He was dressed in all white, a button down over a white t-shirt, white pants she made him buy the other day, and white converse on his feet. The silver against the white made him look almost ethereal. He was a literal angel before her eyes and she could not be happier with how it all turned out.

She grabbed her own headpiece, a pair of black horns and completed their couples costume. An angel and a demon. Not the most unique of ideas, however the roles were usually reversed. He told her that when she came up with the concept and all she said was "You're my good boy now, right? You're gonna be my angel." After that he shut up and the flush didn't leave his cheeks for a long time.

He didn't know if she fully understood just how much she affected him when she said stuff like that. Messed with his mind, his heart, twisting him up inside until he feels like falling at her feet. Or maybe she knew exactly how bad he had it for her, and she enjoyed it.

She was taking her sweet time taking him in, critical eye paying attention to every detail waiting to find something she might have missed. Even though it wasn't her idea and she'd never done matching costumes with anyone before, she was feeling super excited at the prospect of the entire campus knowing he was hers. She wasn't a jealous person, but she knew there were girls vying for his attention and now he was making it clear he had no interest in anyone but her. It made her heart feel so full that she had to force herself to stay cool. He did that. He'd come and sweep the rug out from under her in the best ways. One minute she's chill and the next he hits her with this genuine unabashed affection and she's left confused as to how to cope. She wouldn't complain though, it was the best kind of surprise every time it happened.

To think not long ago she had thought he could never be with someone like her, that they weren't compatible. It was laughable now. Every move they made felt perfectly synced, like it was always meant to be the two of them together. And whenever her insecurities would try and weasel into her mind he'd smile at her in that way he did and she'd feel peace again. She knew he still had his demons but since they agreed to be open with each other he seemed more calm, less on edge, like that peace she felt was mirrored in him too. She couldn't quite believe how happy she was.

He was looking at her with those bedroom eyes again and she had to refrain from letting her mind run wild, as his no doubt was. They spent hours getting ready and they had a party to go to.

This would be the first time they arrived together at a party, and while she wasn't particularly bothered about what other people thought, she knew he cared and wanted to show the world they were together now. For real. She understood, they had spent so much time making up for all the months wasted, in their little bubble and while it was amazing and they wouldn't trade it for anything - they did need to step back into the real world. Meet each other's people, be part of each others lives in public too.

He was really excited at the prospect and it warmed her heart to see him so positively nervous about something. Something other than sex, that is. She needed to stop thinking about sex and focus. Party. They're going to a party. She grabbed her purse and took his hand leading them out the door and into the night.

................

Walking into his frat, hand in hand, it felt like the entire house was staring at them. In reality most people didn't pay them a second glance, but it felt like a momentous occasion to him. He had a big, proud smile on his face as he led her through the massive crowd to the kitchen where he knew his friends would most likely be congregated. As they walked in they were met with loud whoops sounding over the music.

"Mistery Girl! You made it!" It was Mac, Rafe's best friend. They'd met several times, and even though he now knew her name, he still clung to the nickname - to Rafe's great annoyance. As expected, Rafe rolled his eyes at his friend. She smiled and greeted his group, some of whom she'd briefly met before, some faces definitely unfamiliar leading Rafe to introduce her.

Rafe went to make her a drink, knowing she prefers a cocktail to a beer. He managed to locate some fruity syrup and decided to mix her a drink himself. He didn't trust any of the already made punches floating around. She deserved the best. Since best wasn't an option, at least better than the terribly tasting jungle juice Mac always made.

Aaron, one of his frat brothers, whom he didn't really care for, decided to stand too close to her for his liking. Rafe was looking at him while making sure not to spill any of the alcohol he was pouring. He didn't like him crowding her and he wanted to get back there to prevent any unfortunate scene that might unfold.

"So you're the devil, huh?" She gave the random man next to her an unimpressed look, taking a step to the side to create space between them. She didn't want to deal with annoying creeps, but she needed to keep her promise and not do anything to offend his friends.

"Just a lowly demon, I'm afraid." She replied to his question, trying to stay polite.

"Ah, I don't see nothing lowly about you, sweetheart." His gaze flashed to her cleavage and her blood started boiling when he leaned into her space again. He was clearly already drunk but her patience was wearing thin.

"Here you go, babe." His voice snapped her out of her reverie, bringing with him a calm she had missed in the past few minutes they were apart. She took the cup from him, relaxing into his chest as he made himself at home at her back, wrapping one arm around her. His eyes were shooting daggers at Aaron, and she had to refrain from smirking, finding his protectiveness endearing.

"This is pretty good, sweet boy." She looked up at him after tasting his conconction and he broke eye contact with Aaron to look back at her, a smile shining on his face at the compliment. A slight blush appeared on his cheeks at the pet name. He had yet to get used to how he felt every time she called him something so sweet and loving. This was the first time she had called him a nickname in public, not thinking anything of it until the pest next to them decided to speak up.

"N'aww ain't that just adorable?" The smile wiped off Rafe's face in record time as he shot daggers at Aaron for the interruption. Jade was getting more and more annoyed by this random guy and she knew Rafe was as well, so she wished to remove them both from his presence. Before she could though, he had to speak again.

"When did you become such a pussy, Cameron?" Rafe rolled his eyes, tired of his bullshit and ready to leave the kitchen but he felt her stiffen in his arms.

"You watch your mouth." Her voice was low and cold, but everyone in the kitchen could hear it nontheless.

"It's okay-" before he got a chance to reassure her that this dickhead's words meant nothing to him, he was interrupted.

"Woah there little lady. You're feisty. She speaks for you now, too? What happened to you, bro?" He was giggling to himself, but none of his other friends seemed amused. She was starting to realize no one liked him, but for the life of her couldn't understand why they tolerated such a piece of shit.

"Listen here, you little cockroach-" she took a step towards him but Rafe snapped into action, wrapping his arm tighter against her and pulling her backwards.

"Rafe..." her tone held a warning, but he didn't care. He wasn't about to let Aaron of all people, ruin their night before it even started.

"Baby, he's not worth it. Everyone knows he's just desperate for attention, since no one's giving him any." His first words whispered to her, but the latter said loud enough for everyone to hear. Aaron flushed red in anger and Mac saw it as his queue to jump in.

"Alright, we get it. You're jealous Rafe has a girl now. My condolences man but we gotta move on, yeah?" The crowd laughed at Mac's jokes making Aaron even more furious, but the friendly arm Mac slung around his shoulder and the beer he handed him managed to distract the drunken douche enough for Rafe to drag her out of the kitchen.

"You should've let me knock him out." Her teeth were clenched and he tried to prevent a smile from breaking out but she looked so adorable, all mad and protective, ready to fight for his honor. He chuckled at the thought and her eyes snapped to him, taking in his face, thinking he's laughing at her.

"Hey. I could take him!" She was offended.

"Oh trust me, I know. I remember just how lethal that right hook can be." His eyes were sparkling with mischief, and she realized he was only teasing her.

"He deserved it." She spoke, no longer upset, feeling her anger leave her body as he swayed them both on the dance floor.

"I know." He was smirking, giving her that annoying yet adorable look, driving her crazy.

"Why do you let him talk to you like that?" He sighed, pulling her into his chest, laying his head on top of hers as they danced.

"I don't care enough about his opinion to let him ruin my night." She looked up at him then, realizing he wasn't being a pushover because of his friends, which she worried might have been the reason why he didn't fight back. He was just mature enough not to let some irrelevant twat get under his skin. She smiled at that, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

"That's very grown up of you." She teased and he laughed, glad she was back to normal.

"And you ready to fight him for a stupid comment, is definitely not." She rolled her eyes, a slight blush tinging her cheeks.

He was right, she had promised herself to stay cool but one mean comment aimed at him destroyed her composure. She felt such an intense need to protect him, it was quite confusing and scary. She would have laid that fucker out right there in the kitchen. How embarrassing.

"Hey, I'm not complaining. It was very hot, how protective you got." He was smirking again, the cocky little shit. She rolled her eyes again and pulled him into a kiss, just to shut him up and distract him from her somewhat childish behavior. He moaned into the kiss when her tongue entered his mouth and she smiled when she felt him shiver under her fingertips. He was so easy.

When she broke the kiss he was dazed, chasing her lips to prolong the moment but she simply gave him a sweet peck and pulled away. The pout on his face was adorable, resembling a little kid told he can't have his favorite candy for dinner. She admired the flush of redness on his skin from the brief shared moment and a longing stirred in her belly, resembling the one very clearly written on his face. They both wanted more but this was not the time or the place, so she went back to slowly swaying with him in a soft embrace. He melted into her, as he always did.

The kiss made him crave more but she was making it clear it wasn't going to happen. Not yet, at least. He enjoyed the way she held him though, so warm and soft and protected. It always messed with his emotions but he wasn't ashamed of how much he enjoyed it. Not even a little.

It wasn't long before their peaceful moment got interrupted. Mac nearly knocked them both down in excitement as he announced body shots taking place on the formerly used beer pong table. This was exactly the kind of chaos she'd come to expect from a frat party. Rafe's eyes glistened with mischief and she knew what he was going to say before he even spoke.

"What do you say? Wanna do body shots?" He had a playful smirk on his face, fully expecting her to roll her eyes and reject him.

"Sure." She nearly laughed at how quickly the smirk disappeared, replaced with a confusion which then gave way to cautious excitement. She smiled and took his hand, following where Mac had gone, presumably in the direction of the shots.

Rafe was buzzing with excitement as they made their way to the basement where the den was. That's where they usually used the old ping pong table for beer pong. A crowd was gathered around the table, whooping as a guy finished licking salt off a girl's neck. He couldn't believe she agreed to this. Holy shit.

They made their way to the table, waiting for another couple to finish, being next in line. Rafe could feel the adrenaline coursing through his body in anticipation. Then she turned to him and smirked and he thought he'd pass out right then and there. She was the sexiest woman alive, he'd swear it. He couldn't believe he got to call her his girlfriend.

"Shirt off." The command in her voice shook him to his core, too reminiscent of how she talked to him in the privacy of her bedroom. His pulse quickened in excitement. And then he processed her words and realized what she was saying.

"Lay down." Her eyes held a spark in them that always knocked his breath out of his lungs. Of course. Of course she would do this. He didn't know why he was expecting anything else. He followed her orders, like he always did. He had never been the one on the receiving end of body shots and he'd be lying if he said it wasn't turning him on.

The crowd went wild as he undressed and positioned himself on the table. She drank him in, all flushed, a sheen of sweat marking his body from the dancing. He looked delicious and she could feel arousal pool in her belly. It was messy, being like this in front of all these people. She knew, but in that moment she didn't have it in her to care. He was laying there, waiting for her and she wasn't going to deny either of them the high about to happen.

She moved into action, pouring salt on his collar bone and continuing a line down his chest, making Mac whoop out a "hell yeah!". She was solely focused on Rafe, though. He was getting more and more red as the seconds passed and he could feel the lust running through him. She was driving him insane. She put a lime wedge in his mouth and gave him a cheeky wink to which he silently groaned. A fucking tease.

With one last look into his wild eyes, she downed a shot of tequila and finally bent down to make contact with his skin. She licked a long strip from his belly button, over his chest, to his collar bones where she cleaned all the salt off his sticky skin. He shivered as her mouth moved to his neck, giving a cheeky bite to his sweet spot. His eyes rolled to the back of his head in response. She was evil for that.

Finally her eyes met his again as she leaned in to take the lime wedge from him, biting into it, letting the sour juice soak her tongue and complete her shot. The crowd cheered loudly and she quickly discarded the lime wedge to the side as she pulled him in and kissed him, deep and hot and messy.

Both of them were completely lost in the moment, the tension coming to a head as their tongues met and he tasted the liquior and lime on her. He moaned into the kiss, not caring about if anyone heard, solely focused on her. The kiss didn't last long but it awakened something in both of them. She managed to force herself back, to not give these strangers any more of a show than she already had, and pulled him up by his hand.

He struggled to find his feet, feeling completely fucking dazed from that kiss and that body shot and her touch and fuck she was ruining him.

As soon as they moved away from the table, the crowd's attention was taken by the next couple and they had a chance to take a breath. He was red all over, his shirt crumpled in his hand, his other hand in hers. She looked flushed as well, probably for the same reason he was. That was insane.

She kissed him again, finally out of the spotlight. This kiss was slower, but still as deep. He could feel his pants constricting him as he realized he was fully hard for her. She didn't miss it either, as she felt his length pressing against her abdomen. He groaned at the pressure and she pulled back to look at him.

He was embarassed so he lead her away from the basement, making sure to stay hidden behind her, not wanting anyone to witness his predicament. When they made it back to the ground floor he wasted no time in grabbing her hand and rushing up the stairs, her bemused laughter accompanying the movement.

"Where are you going?" She asked, trying to keep up with the speed at which he was practically running.

"My room." He spoke as if it was obvious as he pulled her in the direction of the room they'd both spent several nights tangled up together.

"Rafe, we're not having sex right now." She didn't want to be that couple, the one hooking up in the middle of a party after doing body shots. It felt like a cliche.

"No, I just need..." he trailed off as he unlocked his room, pulling her in as he turned the light on.

"Just need a moment." He looked down at his crotch with a blush and she smiled in understanding. He needs some privacy to calm down.

"Okay, baby." She kissed his cheek in reassurance and made her way to his desk chair, making herself comfortable.

He awkwardly stood there, not sure what to do now. Just having her in his room again was not helping with his problem. The thought of having to go take care of himself in the bathroom depressed him though. So he begrudgingly sat down on his bed and looked at her, confused.

She wanted to laugh at his expression, like he had no clue what to do with himself. His very obvious erection was not helping her calm down from what happened earlier. In fact, the fire in her was getting worse as she looked at him so vulnerable in front of her. Still shirtless, his chest moving with heavy breaths. It was driving her insane.

"Can I..." he didn't finish his thought, almost cursing at even saying anything. His voice had been so quiet she almost didn't hear him.

"What?" She drew the chair closer, to hear him better, making him take in a deep breath to try and get a hold of himself.

"Nothing. Forget it." He shook his head and refused to meer her eyes. That was unacceptable.

"Rafe." Her voice left no room for argument, she wanted him to tell her the truth.

"I was just... I wanted to..." he trailed off again feeling agitated that he couldn't just be confident in expressing himself the way he wished he could. He knew it frustrated her too and it made him feel worse.

"Wanted what, baby?" She moved to sit down next to him, her proximity only causing more frustration to bubble inside him.

"I want to taste you." He finally managed to verbalize his thoughts, meeting her eyes with apprehension.

"Oh..." she wasn't expecting that.

"I'm sorry." She shook her head at his apology.

"No, don't be. It's okay." She held his face in her hands then, observing him.

"Why are you so afraid, hm?" He gulped at her question, uncomfortable at her ability to see right through him all the time.

"I don't know, I just.. I don't wanna dissappoint you." She sighed and pulled him closer, placing a soft kiss on his lips. He exhaled in relief, she wasn't judging him.

"You would never dissappoint me by telling me what you want or how you feel, Rafe. I told you this." Her eyes were so kind it threw him.

"I know, I know. I just... I don't wanna screw this up." He looked embarrassed again and she hated it.

"You could never screw anything up by being honest. The opposite, actually." He nodded, feeling calmer as her fingers played with his hair.

"I'm sorry I'm so messed up." He let out a slight chuckle and she responded with a kind smile.

"You don't ever have to apologize for being human. Not to me. Not to anyone." She was looking at him with such conviction he couldn't help but nod. He wanted to believe her so badly.

"Is this something you've been wanting for a while?" He flushed again, remembeing his words form earlier, shyly nodding.

"Why didn't you say anything? Hm?" She placed her forehead against his, offering comfort and a grounding touch which was exactly what he needed.

"Dunno. Didn't want to overstep." He was finally being honest with her.

"By expressing your desires? To your girlfriend?" She was looking at him with slight amusement, and he blushed even more. She was right, it was silly

"When you say it like that it sounds dumb." He chuckled and she smiled at the sound. She kissed him again, a sweet kiss that helped ease his embarassment.

"I know I'm supposed to talk to you. I just didn't know how to bring this up without... I don't know... offending you." She nearly laughed at that.

"Offending me?" He shrugged.

"I don't know if it's allowed to ask for that." He blushed again, the teasing note in his voice not missed by her.

"You can ask for whatever you want, baby. I might not agree with everything, but you can always ask." She was serious now, wanting him to understand she meant it.

"Alright... So can I? Taste you?" He was holding his breath now, anticipating her answer. Truth be told he had been craving it for months - to please her like that. He enjoyed giving head before but he felt like he would explode with need over doing it for her.

"Not right now." She smiled.

"But I can... some other time?" He was desperate for her to say yes, to know he has a chance to fulfill this need, to please her like she deserves.

"Maybe." She was driving him crazy now.

"Maybe?" His tone was exasperated causing her to smile.

"Yes. Maybe." She pulled back so she could maintain eye contact.

"Eating my pussy is a privilege to be earned, Rafe. Not just something you can expect." He gulped as she spoke, driving him more and more insane with each word passing her lips. He wanted to scream with how hot she was, how sexy he found her confidence and how much he hated and loved her dominant personality all at once. He felt ready to beg. It was pathetic, really.

"How do I earn it?" His question made her stifle a chuckle, the eagerness in his tone endearing.

"By being a really, really good boy." She whispered the last part, his eyes glazing over, caught in a trance. She was so evil for playing with him when he's so messed up over her already.

"I'll do anything. I'll be so good." He would have been embarassed at how pathetic he sounded but he didn't have it in him to care, his arousal overwhelming him.

"You will, huh?" He nodded so fast she had to hold back from laughing. She couldn't believe he was begging to eat her out right now. This was not what she expected out of tonight.

"Yes. I'll be soo good for you. Please..." He was so far gone now, the whine in his voice causing her panties to dampen. Damn him. Damn him for how hot he looked, begging for her.

"You're gonna be good for me?" He was nodding along, clearly too far gone at this point to form words.

"Okay. I need you to calm down so we can go back downstairs." His brows furrowed as her words registered.

"What?" He asked, trying to clear the lustful haze from his brain.

"We came to a party, remember?" He was nodding along.

"So we're going back downstairs and you're going to enjoy yourself at the party you wanted us to come to. Yeah?" He finally started realizing she wasn't going to give him what he so desperately wants. She was mean for teasing him like that. He pouted again, giving her that kicked puppy look, but she stood her ground. He sighed loudly, feeling grumpy now.

"You're cruel." He mumbled as he got up and made his way to the door.

"What was that?" She heard him the first time but wanted to see if he'd have the balls to repeat it.

"Nothing. I'm going to the bathroom." He shuffled out of the room with his head down.

She felt a little guilty for rejecting him like that but she meant what she said. She didn't get all dressed up and come to this party just to end their night so soon. She knew this had been important to him and she didn't want his lust to distract him from what he really wanted to do tonight. Which is spend time with his friends and her, not to go back to their bubble the second they got horny. No. Tonight was a test for both of them, to practice some freaking self control. She had to be the strong one, cause he clearly couldn't be. Not when it came to this. But he made it really, really difficult to keep her head straight. Trouble personified.

Once he returned from the bathroom he seemed more calm, more in control of himself. He had splashed his face with water and spent an annoying amount of time sitting on the closed toilet seat, forcing himself to stop thinking dirty things and relax. It wasn't easy, with everything that happened in the basement and then his room. The teasing, the tension, it was all too much. But he understood why she rejected his advances, no matter how embarrassed he might be about it. He was the one who dragged them out to this party, making a big deal out of the night - so he had no right to be mad at her for trying to do what he had asked - experience the party with him.

So he shook his naughty thoughts off and managed to calm himself down enough to where his arousal was no longer noticable. It was the best he could do without jerking off and he really didn't want to do that.

She got up as he enterd the room, approaching him and pulling him into a hug immediately. He realized she felt bad for what happened but he wasn't upset anymore.

"It's okay. You're right. We should go back downstairs." She pulled back to look at him, to see if he was being honest with her. He smiled at her worry.

"I promise." He gave her a cheeky smirk and she accepted his answer, pressing a quick peck to his cheek and pulling him out of the room, back to the party.

He felt so lucky, holding her hand, seeing her interact with his friends, the smile on her face encouraging him to snap out of his thoughts and back to reality. He decided downing a few more shots would help him relax further, making it easier to forget how worked up he had been not 10 minutes ago.

As the night went on they hung out with his friends, drank, laughed and danced together. It was perfect. Exactly what he wished it would be like. He wanted her to like his friends and be comfortable around them and she seemed to be doing great.

They were in the kitchen again, her sitting on one of the bar chairs, chatting with one of the girls in the group. Completely smitten and unable to tear his eyes away, he just looked at her, his girlfriend - the realization making his heart feel so damn full he couldn't believe it. She was his girlfriend. How on earth did he get so fucking lucky?

She could feel his eyes boring into her for a while now, so she looked back at him finding him with a lovesick smile on his face, drunk and adorable, unashamed in his staring.

She decided to keep her drinking to a minimum, being the responsible one as always. It was in her nature. He was clearly already quite drunk but she didn't mind. She hadn't seen him drink that much during the time they've been together so she didn't feel a need to worry about it being a regular occurence. He just seemed really happy tonight and she didn't mind taking care of him once the time came. Which is something she never expected from herself at all- wanting to take care of a guy, not in terms of aftercare post sex, but in general. It made her question her sanity.

Once he realized she was looking at him the smile on his face only got bigger and he felt the intense urge to go to her, so he did. She smiled as he slightly stumbled into her, wrapping her arms protectively around him to steady him.

"Having fun?" She cheekily asked and he gave her the biggest boyish smile in return.

"Mhm, so much fun." He cuddled into her, taking her slightly by surprise. He was acting like they were the only people in the room, even though the kitchen was full of his friends. She could feel eyes on them as she played with his hair, the touch grounding, coaxing him back into reality.

"You okay, baby?" He simply nodded and nuzzled his face into her neck.

"Just happy." Her heart skipped a beat. She felt such intense affection for him in that moment it was unreal.

He wrapped his arms around her, making himself at home in between her legs, cocooning himself in her embrace. He was behaving the same way he did when they were alone, always desperate for her touch, to feel connected to her. It seemed even more intense now when they had a crowd of people looking at them.

"Feeling clingy?" She jokingly asked as the eyes of those around them burned into her skin. She didn't mind it but she was worried he might be embarrassed when he realized how he was acting in front of everyone.

"Just want you to hold me." He kissed her cheek and she could feel a slight blush forming where his lips met her skin.

She held him close, letting him soak in her touch, just as she did when they were in her apartment. She played with his hair and gave his back scratches in the same well practiced dance her fingers performed every day. She decided to break the moment by starting up a conversation with the same girl again as he cuddled into her in silence.

They stayed like that for a while and slowly but surely everyone got used to the odd sight of Rafe Cameron being clingy and soft as fuck, realizing this was normal behavior to the pair as she took it in stride.

After a while Rafe started getting antsy, she could feel him wiggling around and cocked a brow.

"What's up, angel?" Their eyes met and he pouted.

"Need to pee." He almost whined out causing her to chuckle.

"Then go pee?" She didn't understand his dilemma.

"Don't wanna." She realized what he meant, he didn't want to let go of her and leave her embrace even for a short bathroom trip. It made her almost laugh but she held back from it, seeing the serious expression on his face. He was drunker than she thought. She sighed, not believing what she was about to say.

"You want me to come with you?" She could see by the way he immediately brightened, she was right.

She couldn't believe she was so down bad that she'd baby a guy like this. But alas there she was, holding his hand and guiding him to the bathroom. She needed to maintain some dignity so she told him she'd wait outside for him to which he pouted but decided not to complain after seeing the resolution on her face. So she watched him stumble into the bathroom making a mental note to get him to drink water once they got back.

When he came out of the bathroom, he almost lost his footing nearly tripping until she caught him, steadying him. He was embarrassed at how drunk he'd gotten.

"We need to get you some water, baby." He noded his head, wrapping his arms around her again, quietly apologizing into her skin over and over and over while she shushed him and guided them back to the kitchen. As soon as they got there she was thrusting a water bottle at him.

"Drink the whole thing." Her tone left no room for argument so he drank the water obediently and she kept a watchful eye on him the whole time. As she did, she finally noticed something different in his costume. He had gotten redressed when he was in the bathroom upstairs, but something was missing.

"Where's your halo?" He stared at her confused, processing her words for a long moment until they finally set in. He hurried to check his head for the headband he was wearing at the beginning of the night only to find it gone. He set the now empty water bottle on the counter, turning around in search of the missing piece but it was nowhere to be seen.

"I lost it." He pouted, trying to think back to where he had it last but the task was impossible for his drunken mind. She softened at his sad expression, he looked like he might cry.

"It's okay, baby. It was only like 3 dollars." He shook his head, not feeling any better about it.

"But you got it for me." He looked so cute and pitiful, pouting like a kid over a piece of plastic.

"I can get you another one." She smiled as he brightened.

"Really?" She nodded, pulling him closer to fix the mess his hair.

"Really. It's not a big deal." But it was to him. It might have been a silly constume prop but he fully intended to keep it forever as a reminder of their night.

"Our costumes are ruined." He whined and she held back a laugh at his theatrics.

"I don't think anyone cares about our costumes anymore, Rafe." She was right, everyone was too drunk to care about any of that at this point.

"I do.... Now we don't look like a couple anymore." She sighed in exasperation.

"But we are a couple, baby." He smiled at that, hiding his face in her shoulder making her chuckle. He was adorable when he got all shy from her petnames. She knew he loved it when she called him baby the most.

"Wanted everyone to know..." he whined into her skin, apparently not done with the topic yet. She rolled her eyes at what she was about to do to appease him. She really is down bad for this guy.

She pulled out her red lipstick and her phone, reaplying the colour to her lips while he watched her like it was the most fascinating sight in the world.

"Here." She planted a big kiss on his cheek, leaving a print of her lips on his skin. He blushed as she showed him his face on the phone screen, feeling all giddy again.

"Happy now?" She was starting to annoy herself with her need to make him happy tonight.

"Yes. Thank you." He hugged her again, taking in the smell of her hair, feeling sated at last.

As soon as things were starting to feel somewhat peaceful again, Aaron had to make a comeback. She had no patience left in her body for anyone's bullshit and she figured it was around time to get going anyways. She looked down at Rafe, sleepily leaning on her, eyes drooping, realizing he was ready for bed.

"Time for bed, baby?" He groaned in disaproval, not wanting to end the night yet.

"Hungry." She barely managed to make out his mumbling. She hadn't seen any food around except for some chips which was not really good enough to sate a stomach as drunk as his. He needed actual food.

"How about we get you to your room and I order something? Hm?" He looked cute, thinking it over, she could practically see the wheels in his head turning with concentration.

"But we're supposed to go back to yours." The little pout was back on his lips and she realized he pouted a lot when he was drunk.

"I don't think I can carry you back to my place, baby. We can ask Mac for help up the stairs yeah?" He shook his head, the movement clearly making him temporarily dizzy and she worried he might end up falling over.

"M'not that drunk." The slur in his words contradicting his conviction. She simply rolled her eyes and located Mac who was also quite drunk but seemed still capable of helping her out.

"Mac!" The brunet immediately made his way to where the two were standing. "Help me get him upstairs?" He wasted no time nodding and grabbing his best friend under his arms to drag him to his room. Rafe protested again but after stumbling decided to keep his mouth shut and accept the help. He could still walk to an extent so Mac didn't need her help, managing to get him to his room fairly quick helping him down on his bed.

"I'm sorry." He kept apologizing, feeling bad for ruining the night. She disagreed. She'd had plenty of fun with him tonight and him being drunk was but a minor inconveniece to an overall good time. She explained this to him, kissing his cheek in reassurance.

Mac had made himself scarce quickly and she was thankful for the privacy and the quiet of the room. She ordered them both a burger and fries and played with his hair while they waited. It didn't take long for him to doze off.

Once her phone pinged, she snuck out not to wake him and made her way outside to get the food, pushing past the rest of the drunken party downstairs. When she came back his eyes were barely open, it seemed he had woken up by her absence. She smiled showing him the food and he returned it, stomach grumbling with hunger.

They finished their food quite quickly, given how hungry they were, throwing the trash in the bag to be dealt with tomorrow. She changed into his t-shirt and despite the sleepiness overcoming him, his eyes still stared at her body, unable to control himself when she was so damn beautiful. She caught him staring and chuckled at his awestruck expression. He had the same look on every time he saw her undress.

"Come on baby, lets get you changed, hm?" She helped him pull his shirt off and struggled to take off his pants but eventually managed. He had an adorable grin on his face as she made herself comfortable beside him. She reached for him and he immediately made himself at home in her arms. Sleeping with her had become one of his absolute favorite things in the world. He never sleeps better than when he's wrapped up in her arms.

"Good night." He whispered into her hair and she laid a light kiss on his temple as the exhaustion finally caught up to her.

"Good night, my angel."

.........................................

Taglist: if anyone wants to be tagged in future work let me know; @torturedtypewritersdept @kinkyrafe @mentallynot-here @wishing-i-was-rafes-princess @clinelyn @magnificantmermaid @mannstarkey @harringtonstudios @totallynotkaibiased @popcrone818 @fangirlwithlou @rafesxgold @malfoytargaryen @theyluvmesblog @withbeautyandrage @sierrahhh @harrys-humble-housewife @piceous21 @ditzyballerina @xoxo3m1ly @jessmaybank @whore-4-drewstarkey @palmwinemami @dustbunniess @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @starkowswife @ietss @beansprout713 @starkeysbebe @miahxelizabeth @lalalalala33

[hotshotsxyz]

heart is beating heavily

(buddie) (s8 spec) (1k) several people asked for more of this town is only gonna eat you so this is that. unfortunately i am still feeling evil, so please enjoy buck's pov of the same events :) btw the title of both of these fics comes from the song bloody shirt by to kill a king, which i played on repeat while writing these cw: mass shooting / gun violence

Buck’s breath leaves him in a sharp exhale when he hits the ground. It hurts, but not—not where it should. His chest, his back, they’re on fire. His head, though, as violently as he was thrown to the ground, never makes contact with the cement.

The only thing he can see now is Eddie. Eddie, hovering above him, eyes wild. He looks—cornered. Trapped. Only he’s the one pressing Buck into the sticky floor of the arena, not the other way around, and he doesn’t understand why.

“Eds,” he tries to say, but it comes out as more of a croak.

Eddie shakes his head sharply, almost—

Panicked.

Buck takes a breath and it hurts. His thoughts feel sluggish in a way they never really are. He tries to take stock of what he knows anyway.

His body is screaming in pain.

Eddie is afraid. (Why is Eddie afraid? What could possibly—)

They’re on the floor. (Eddie pushed him to the floor. Why would he—)

The space around them is filled with a cacophonous noise that Buck can’t quite identify.

Pain. Fear. Sharp popping noises that make Buck’s ears hurt, and—

Screaming.

Oh.

Buck presses his lips together and tips his chin toward his chest in an approximation of a nod. Eddie exhales, warm against his cheek. His face does something complicated, and then—

I’m sorry, Eddie mouths, and before Buck can figure out what for, white hot pain lances through his chest.

In his mind he screams.

In reality, he bites his tongue hard enough to draw blood. They’re in danger, and he won’t—As long as he’s still breathing, Eddie won’t leave him here. Even if he should. He won’t protect himself, won’t run, won’t hide. The least Buck can do is keep from drawing attention toward them, but in the moment, it feels like the hardest thing he’s ever done.

“—so good,” Eddie breathes into his ear. “I got you; I promise.”

Buck wants to believe that almost as much as he wishes Eddie would just save himself. Every breath he takes is harder than the one before, though, and it occurs to him that soon, he might draw his last. If he has to die, Eddie’s face is a pretty incredible last thing to see. He just wishes it wasn’t twisted in pain and fear.

It takes a minute for Buck to catch up with his own thoughts. Pain. That’s—he’s seen it in Eddie’s expression enough times to know it intimately. Why is he in pain? Eddie presses his cheek to Buck’s before he can interrogate the expression further.

“Slow, steady breaths, okay? You have to breathe through it, even if it feels like you can’t.”

The scrape of Eddie’s jaw against his sends something like a shiver down Buck’s spine. There’s something—something important, but—it feels just out of reach.

“You have to, Buck, I can’t—I just need you to hold on,” Eddie whispers, quietly wrecked.

He’s trying. God is he trying. But it’s—every breath feels like pulling fire into his lungs. With every exhale, he feels a tiny bit weaker, a tiny bit worse. Eddie pulls away slightly, and Buck feels the absence like a missing rib.

“Hear that?” Eddie asks, brushing a thumb across Buck’s cheekbone.

He doesn’t—he doesn’t hear anything other than Eddie, but he’s not sure he wants to.

“We’re so close, Buck.”

Something settles in his chest at the sound of his name on Eddie’s lips, louder than before, drenched in something that sounds like relief. He blinks once, twice, slow and heavy.

“Come on, eyes on me,” Eddie says sharply. And—oh, when did he get so far away?

Eddie pulls the hem of his shirt to his teeth and—oh god. That’s not Buck’s blood. He’s—Eddie’s hurt too, but Buck can’t make his mouth work, can’t even keep his eyes open long enough to—

“No!” Eddie commands. A new pain accompanies his voice. “You’re staying right here with me, got it?”

He has to—has to tell Eddie—he doesn’t—

“That’s perfect, you’re perfect,” Eddie says, eyes shining.

A lump forms in his throat.

“Just keep—c’mon Buck, just keep fighting. I need—you have to be okay.”

He does. He does have to be okay because Eddie’s not and he’s acting like he doesn’t even know.

“Hurt,” Buck forces out.

“I know,” Eddie says, but he doesn’t! “I know it hurts, I’m sorry.”

Buck lets out a frustrated groan. He tries to shake his head, and when that fails, to lift his hand to Eddie’s abdomen.

Eddie turns away from him, and if Buck could scream now, he would.

“Alright,” he says, turning back to Buck. “I’m going to get you onto that gurney. Let me do all the work, okay?”

No! No he can’t! Buck tries to tell him again, tries to force anything through his lips that Eddie will understand. You’re—“hurt,” he manages again. He can’t even lift his hand now. He’s dying and he’s going to take Eddie with him.

Eddie says something he can’t parse, and suddenly he’s moving, being lifted dizzyingly high off the ground. He sees—

A body. A swarm of cops. Uniformed paramedics and EMTs running in every direction imaginable.

One of them, he just needs one of them to look at Eddie. He just needs one of them to see. He’s still walking, still talking. He still has time.

Eddie drops him onto what must be a gurney, and immediately it begins to roll. Buck allows his head to loll away from Eddie and towards—

An EMT! She can—she can do something. She can—

She’s not looking at him.

She’s not looking at Eddie either. She’s looking straight ahead and under any other circumstances Buck would compliment her for her pragmatic understanding of the urgency of the situation. But she’s walking too fast and Eddie’s beginning to stumble.

“Diaz, is that—” Yes, yes! Someone sees him. Someone else knows—

“—were you shot?”

Buck gets his head around just in time to watch Eddie collapse into the arms of a firefighter he doesn’t recognize.

He wants to scream, to sob, to thrash against the restraints keeping him on the gurney. He wants to—

Wants to—

Needs—

Eddie.

[ecstarry]

"It was a Thursday" a love confession far from perfect // 529 words

It was not supposed to happen like this. They both had waited so long, it was going to be special. Possibly on the weekend trip they had carefully planned and made up excuses to justify sharing a bed. Or maybe it was going to happen after breakfast, on their walk back to the hotel. 

They were waiting. Regulus was certain they both figured it out at the same time — no doubt late compared to the rest of their friends. But it was a Tuesday, and the weather was horrible and his hair just didn’t look right. That was no way to confess his love to one James Potter. 

But today, a Thursday, with an okay weather, exams around the corner, when both of them were upset was definitely worse. 

Regulus couldn’t even remember what they were even fighting about, let alone how it turned into both of them screaming and blowing up on each other. There was nothing left to be said.

It was James who broke the silence. “I’m done, Reg,” 

He was going to be sick. “What does that even mean?” Regulus’ voice broke. 

“I won’t fight anymore,” James responded. 

Regulus turned his face, the thought of watching James leave was unbearable. “So you’ll just go?” He could barely get the words out. 

“Look at me.” James took a step closer. 

“No.” Regulus' eyes shut his eyes as he felt James’ hands squeeze his arms. Why did he have to be this gentle even when he was breaking Regulus’ heart?

James released his grip and softly brushed the side of Regulus’ arm with his thumb. “Please, look at me.”

Regulus obliged. James’ eyes were just as teary-eyed as his own. Was it just as tormentful for James to watch him?

“Why are you crying if I’m the one who has to watch you leave?” There was no venom in Regulus’ tone, and sadness seemed too insignificant of a word at the moment. Ache. That was closer. 

James’ hands traveled to his face, and god, were they were warm. One last kiss of the sun on his skin before winter came. He would miss it. They were so close to having it all, then Regulus snapped, said something wrong, and he didn’t even remember it. He couldn’t stop as his sharp words attacked until it was too late, he had crossed a line. James would-

“I love you.”

What?

“I love you.” James repeated, loudly. “I’m not leaving.” 

“Yo- you said you were done.”

“Fighting. I was done fighting, Reg.” James chuckled as he moved his feet close enough that the point of their shoes were touching. “I could never be done with you.” 

Regulus felt as if he was drowning and had finally caught some air. They were okay. James wasn’t leaving. James loved him. James loved him?

“You love me?”

“Actually, I’m in love with you.” James whispered as he lifted Regulus’ face slightly. “And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten that upset, you were already stressed and I knew it but I just couldn’t keep my mouth shu-”

“I love you too.”

“You do?”

“In love, actually.” Regulus said, allowing a small smile to form.

There was no perfect breakfast, no perfect weather, no perfect sunrise. It was a Thursday, with an okay weather, exams around the corner, both of them upset, and yet, they loved each other. Any day together would be lovely as long as that one truth remained. 

[littlereddream]

Of Whiskey and Venom

A/n: cowboy Jason Todd x Reader, f!reader, there will be multiple parts to this because I can’t help myself.

Owing debts to outlaws means playing dangerous games. You know that, well and true. When Carmine Falcone finds out that you don’t have the money to pay him back, he offers you one final method of payment. Your debt would be forgiven in its entirety, so long as you walk yourself to the notorious Red Hood’s camp and surrender yourself with the claim that you’re part of the Falcone’s.

In Gotham, big of a town as it is, word gets around to people fast. Whether it was through gossip or the newspaper boys hard at work, most things never stayed secret.

Usually, it was annoying. Last year, some nosy neighbor had discovered that you’d managed to get your hands on some quality eggs, courtesy of a friend of yours down South. Within the week, almost half of your neighbors had collected at your door at some point or another to ask for some. Would be a shame not to share, they’d said.

Usually, the knowledge of any of your personal business getting out would set you on edge. It’s never been any good to you, only ever causing trouble.

Today, you find cause to be grateful for the quickly spread word. If not for Gotham’s tendency to whisper in each other’s ears, your neighbor would never have come to knock on your front door that morning, all out of breath with urgency all over her.

“You’ve gotta get out of here,” she’d panted. “Run. Run and don’t come back!”

You’d quickly invited her inside, checking outside left and right before shutting the door.

“Mary, the hell’s gotten into you?”

But all she’d done is deliver a soft smack across your shoulder.

“Take this seriously! Darlin, it’s Falcone.” You still remember the ice that had trailed its way down your spine. “My husband, Rupert, told me that he’d overheard some of his boys talking about it. He’s lookin for you.”

You forced yourself to shake your head, pushing back the instinct to freeze up entirely.

“Mary, it just ain’t possible. Falcone and I, we- all of my business with him has been settled.”

“Yes, well, he doesn’t seem to agree. Now, go on! Pack your things. I’ve taken a horse from the stable for you. She’s a fast girl, just old. Won’t nobody come looking for either of you.”

In the end, you’d had enough sense to listen to her, but there was no packing your bags fast enough to escape Falcone. Midway through packing food for your trip, long after Mary had left, you’d heard a different kind of knock at your door. Demanding. Angry.

That whole interaction felt like ages ago to you now, including the conversation you’d had with the man. He’d explained it to you simply, tone so light you’d hardly believe the weight of the words he cracked into your skin, like a cane to a horse.

Apparently, all that time ago when you’d paid back your debt to the man who’d come to collect it from you, there had been a breach in loyalty within Falcone’s gang. Your debt collector had taken the liberty of deciding his own pay, stealing nearly half of the money you’d paid for himself rather than handing over the full amount.

Despite it being an error within his own system, Falcone refused to hear your bargaining. You’d even gone so far as to promise him that money again, all you’d need was a month.

He’d shut you down quicker than you could finish making the offer.

Instead, Falcone offered you a counter proposal.

It’s that counter proposal that has you currently making the solo hike to the Red Hood camp, handcuffs digging uncomfortably into your wrists set in front of you.

What Falcone offered to you went as such: After one of Falcone’s newer men went out and shot a man from the Red Hoods, Hood demanded to be delivered one of Falcone’s own as a leveling of justice and show of goodwill. A gesture to calm the waters between them, since the last thing anybody in town wanted was for the two most dangerous gangs to have it out for each other.

Your job is to be that token of goodwill, to march your way into that camp and declare yourself as a surrender member of the Falcone’s to fulfill their demands.

Do so, and he’d make the kind decision not to take the life of the neighbors that tried to aid in your attempted escape.

The camp is far into the woods, well outside Gotham itself, causing your dress to catch in every grown out bush and twig. Your feet ache from walking so long in the wrong shoes, while your hands haven’t stopped shaking since you were forced to leave home.

There is no getting out of this, you know that. If you run away now, if Falcone finds out that you didn’t settle this debt for him, there would be no corner of the earth far enough for you to hide. It’s either he kills you, or you take your chances with a gang so successfully underground, not even law enforcement knows the real name of its leader. Doesn’t mean they’re any less brutal, though.

You’re going to die, all because Falcone’s men can’t do their jobs, whether that be collecting debts or not shooting the wrong damn people.

There’s a point where the path you walk narrows out, becomes thin and difficult to follow. At some point, you can hardly tell which direction you’re supposed to head, saved only by the spots of recent horseshoe markings in the dirt.

It feels like any second, you’ll be surrounded by people with rifles pointed right at your head. With each step, your breathing further shallows into something unintentionally quieter. A bush rustles to your right, and you feel like an idiot for flinching back when a rabbit runs right out and past you.

After so long walking, you’re starting to think that Falcone could’ve been wrong about the location of the camp. After all, this part of the woods look completely wild, utterly untouched if not for the occasional broken twig or trail marking.

“Who’s there?” A voice shouts out.

Then there’s a gun being pointed to the side of your head. Well, at least you know that if there’s ever an award for jinxing yourself, you’d win it. Or maybe not, considering you’re very likely to be killed within the next few minutes.

“Carmine Falcone’s debt,” you say simply, proud that you’d managed to keep the waiver out of your voice.

There’s a pause in the air, before you can see the man’s mouth pull into a grimace out of the corner of your eye. “That so?” He mutters. “Right. Well, you’re going the wrong way. Come on.”

The redhead, whoever he is, takes great care not to spook you. His rifle, attached to a belt over his shoulder, is exchanged for a single handgun, one just within reach tucked into a holster. The hold he has on your forearm is surprisingly careful, less there to keep you from running and more to guide you through the confusing twists and turns of the woods.

“Watch your step,” he warns. “Hood is gonna be pissed.”

“Why?” You risk asking.

So long as the debt is settled, it seems to you that Hood would be getting everything he specified in his deal. You’re the one being screwed over here.

“Cause, it looks to me like Falcone sent over somebody he doesn’t mind losing instead of an honorable trade.”

You raise a brow. “Who says I ain’t a high value exchange?”

The redhead snorts. “Are you kiddin? You don’t got a single gun-wielding callus on you. We lost one of our best that day, and Falcone sent us you.”

A pause.

“No offense.”

“None taken,” you grumble, bitter for reasons you don’t even know yourself. Maybe it’s because you’re being completely screwed over here, but who’s to say?

It’s not long before the overgrown woods level out into a large clearing, the man weaving you past hitched horses to reveal a large camp. It’s nothing like what you’d expected, hearing what you have about the Red Hoods. Vile, vicious, and mean.

Come to find out their camp looks like an isolated meadow, sun shining down on their colorful tents. From where you’re standing, you can see a young child playing with an even younger puppy. Just past that, there’s a table of people gathered around two women who look to be playing five finger fillet.

The redhead calls out to an older woman to your left who you hadn’t even noticed, sitting quietly as she polished a hunting knife on her pants. What you’d do to be wearing pants instead of a dress right now.

“Ma Gunn,” he greets. “Got a moment?”

“Depends, Roy. More of your trouble?” She says pointedly, but Roy only laughs.

“Not this time. Just got some business to discuss with Hood. Mind keeping the young lady here some company?”

Ma Gunn waves Roy off with a free hand, sheathing the knife and standing.

“Go.”

And then you’re alone with her. Ma Gunn’s eyes are fixed on the metal binding your hands together.

“In some trouble with the law, dear?” She raises a brow. You’re not quite sure what to say to deny it, but some part of your face must look panicked because she breaks out into a quiet laugh. “Relax. We’re hardly the kind of people to judge you for having lawmen after you, not that we’d have any right to.”

Right. Outlaws.

“Besides, you don’t seem like the gunslinging type.”

“Roy said the same,” you tell her.

She snorts. “Course he did. How’d you end up here anyway? Tell me you’re not thinking of joining in. I’m telling you, it might seem nice at first, but it’s nothin worth putting up with Bizarro’s cooking.”

“No, not joining in. I’ve got a debt to settle between Mr. Falcone and Hood.”

It’s within an instant that the woman’s face changes, much more grim than just a moment ago. She looks at you like you’ve already been damned, no shot at survival left to you.

Roy’s back already, tipping his hat in thanks towards Ma Gunn, whose eyes still haven’t left your cuffed wrists.

“Hood wants to see you. Come on, I’ll take you over.” Roy doesn’t touch you this time, just hovers his hand over his lower back like he can force you to move telepathically. You do.

Together, you’re approaching one of the biggest tents in the camp, far in the back. Entirely red, though what else did you expect?

You stop in front of the fabric curtains.

“I think it’s best if you head in alone. Good luck.”

Right. With a final deep breath, you duck into the tent. It feels like stepping into your own casket.

You find that the inside looks bigger than the outside, complete with a large cot, a table surrounded by chairs, and a small bookshelf. At the table sits a man you can only assume is Hood himself, feet resting on the wood as he leans back in his seat. He’s got his arms crossed over his chest, gambler hat set on the edge of the table just by his boots.

He’s surprisingly handsome, sharply contrasting all the stories people tend to spread about him. When he’s not wearing a bandana, he’s said to be grotesquely scarred, some even say to the point of deformity. The man is front of you is very much not that, all sharp features with the only visible scars on his face being one over his lower lip and the other down across his brow.

You step forward into the tent, and the wood beneath your feet creaks. Quick as gunfire, narrowed green eyes level with yours. There’s a hint of disbelief in them, like he can’t quite believe his eyes.

“By Gotham, that fool was telling the truth.” You hear him say, gruff and mumbled.

It takes more effort than you’d ever admit to speak without breaking down right there. You’re practically speaking to your executioner right now.

“Hood, right? Carmine Falcone sent me to-“

“Yeah, yeah, I know why he sent you.” Hood drags a hand down his face. “Well, isn’t this just a mess.”

With a tired sigh, Hood calls you forward with a beck of his fingers. Once you’re at the other end of the table, he motions for you to take a seat. You do, albeit on unstable legs. It’s a miracle your knees don’t just buckle when you move to sit.

“So, tell me. This Carmine’s idea of a joke?”

“No, I-“

“He think it’s funny to send me a girl he picked up from who knows where? Send her to her death just to get off clean?”

“If you’d just-“

“Come on, doll. I wanna know. Why the hell is Falcone sending me you instead of what I asked for?”

Hood’s eyes are cold as steel, but you’ve got the strange feeling that his anger isn’t entirely directed at you. Still, better not to assume.

“I am what you asked for. You weren’t cheated.”

Hood snorts, entirely humorless. “You? Now, forgive me for my doubts, but I’m having a hard time-“

This time, you’re cutting him off. “I am,” you insist.

Hood pauses to look at you. Really look at you. There’s an amusement settling in his posture that you don’t like, one that promises nothing good for you.

“Right. Well, who am I to tell you what you are or aren’t? Far be it from me.”

He’s reaching for his hip, unholstering the revolver strapped there and setting it down on the table. You watch the motion as he does it, staring down the weapon between the two of you like it could shoot you without its handler ever touching it.

“This gun here? This is one of my most prized possessions. If this whole tent were to catch fire right now, everything I hold dear tucked inside, this gun would be the only thing I’d bother savin.”

He’s watching your reactions carefully, so you're just as careful to keep your expression back. You’re not sure what he’s looking for, so better he not find anything at all.

“Now, I personally believe actions speak much louder than words. I won’t sit here and call you a liar for telling me you’re a gunslinging outlaw straight from Falcone’s best, but I will tell you to prove it to me.”

Hood nudges the gun closer to where you’re sitting. “So go on and prove it. Take my own gun and shoot me. Eliminate any threat I pose to you within seconds, selfish and brutal.”

You can do nothing but sit there in stunned silence, hands tightly gripping the fabric over your lap. “Hood, I don’t-“

“I insist.”

Your hands shake when you bring them up with a sheepish grin. “Can’t exactly do that with cuffed hands, mister.”

Hood waves you off. “I’ve done worse things than shoot a man with my hands cuffed. Come on, Miss, prove it to me. Unless you can’t.” He tilts his head at the end.

To kill a man, to take a life. You can’t just do that. As is sensing your inner turmoil, Hood offers you a sarcastic pout.

“Weighing on your conscience, is it? Well, if it helps you any, it wouldn’t be a good man you’re killing. I’ve committed too many crimes to be clean of anything. All you’ve gotta do is put a bullet between the eyes of a man who might just kill you unless you do. Not so much of a choice, is there. I sure know what I’d do, if I was you.”

Hood is egging you on, pushing you to prove him wrong. He wants you to do this, wants you to pick up that gun and send a bullet straight through him. He wants you to because he knows you won’t.

The worst part is that he’s right.

You turn your head away from the gun, away from him. It’s answer enough.

You see Hood nod slowly out of the corner of your eye, reaching for his gun to holster it with a rustle and a click. He sets his feet back down to the ground, crossing his arms over the table to lean forward.

“Alright. So tell me again now. Why did Falcone send you?”

The change in tone has you thrown for a loop. Within seconds, the pressing intimidation from before is gone, now much softer in comparison.

So you tell him everything. From your neighbor at your door, from your debt to Falcone, the threats he’d made, all the way to the present moment. This time, Hood doesn’t interrupt you once. He listens carefully, nodding at all of the right places to each relevant point. When you finish, he simply asks you if there’s anything else worth mentioning. At the shake of your head, Hood stands.

“I’ll have someone let Falcone know that his exchange has been well received. So long as he thinks you’re with us now, no one you know will be bothered. As for you, you’ll be free to do whatever you want with your days, just as long as you’re here during the nights. How’s that work for you?”

For a moment, all you can do is stare. Then, ever so cautiously, you dare to ask, “you’re not gonna kill me?”

Hood shrugs. “I have no reason to. This way, you’ll be safe and I won't be bothered by Falcone trying to buy back my truce.”

“But what about your whole…you know.”

Hood raises a brow at you, urging you to continue.

“You know. The whole ‘eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth’ thing.”

Hood grins, toothy and predatory. “Trust me, doll, I’ll still be getting something back from Falcone. I tend not to forgive easy. Hands out for me.”

Quicker than you can process his intentions past putting out your hands, Jason is drawing out his revolver and shooting the chain between your cuffs quicker than you can flinch. He ignores your stunned expression, clipping his weapon back to himself.

“I’ll ask the girls to get you some decent clothes and set you up a tent. Pleasure meeting you.”

Without another word, he’s exiting the tent and leaving you to stare at the chain that used to link your wrists, now scattered into tiny pieces of metal across wood.

[garciaasfluffypen]

take care of me (like i take care of you) pt. 3

pairing: jemily x reader word count: 2.4k warnings: SURPRISE i finished part three and wanted to post it so i could get this cross posted to ao3 hehe. its time to talk(tm) about everything that happened! y/n's rejection sensitive dysphoria episode is a prominent aspect of this part. poor emily doesn't really know what to do except comfort her girlfriends, jj has some issues she's working through, y/n feels absolutely horrible about everything that conspired

after everything that had happened in the past two hours, you were drained. you barely made it to the bedroom before bursting out into tears. this was it. this was the big kablooey. jj hated you now, there was no doubt about it. considering the way she reacted when you had let the term slip past your lips… you never should have done it. you pushed too hard, and this was the end. you’d have to change your name and move to timbuktu so nobody could find you ever again and you’d never be able to embarrass yourself in front of jj and emily anymore. the harsh what did you just call me? reverberated through your mind as you let the sobs take over your body, practically doubling over with the sheer force of guilt. you couldn’t believe yourself. how could you let it get that bad? it hadn’t even been three months and you already fucked up. but that was just it, wasn’t it? the three month curse you were stuck with. nothing romantic ever lasted past three months. it was only time that this one ended, giving you a chance to reset and find something new. your exes were right, you were never good enough. you always did something wrong. it was bound to happen sooner rather than later, and you needed to expect the worst. 

peeling off the clothes you had worn to the zoo, you blindly felt in what had been dubbed your drawer for your jammies. you had gotten the shirt from an online store and it was the perfect shirt for when you were having bad days or sensory overloads. and a bonus, it was long enough to cover your butt and go halfway down your thighs. you had gotten it big on purpose, and you were glad you did. once you felt the fabric, you pulled it on and stumbled back to the bed, grabbing a pillow and holding it close to your chest as you continued to try and calm yourself down. logically, you knew you were over reacting, but the fact you were tired mixed with the immense guilt you felt for making jj feel bad… everything piled up and you found yourself trying not to spiral more than you already had. 

the door opened and a figure stood there for a second before coming over and pulling you into the biggest hug they could muster. after a second, the scent of emily flew through your senses and slowly but surely you started to calm down as you curled into her arms. 

“oh, lovey…” 

this was one of the downsides to how bad your adhd and rejection sensitive dysphoria was- when you cried, you cried hard. you had gotten good at bottling up your feelings into a little corner of your mind that barely got touched unless you had a whole weekend carved out to mope around. those weekends were far and few between these days, seeing as the budget increase the bau got gave them more opportunities to take cases. it wasn’t too bad, until this happened and you cried so hard you felt like you might throw up. 

you curled into emily’s chest, barely registering the door opening. a red eyed jj stood in the doorframe, hands wringing together as she looked for you. jj looked worse for wear, emily noted. the last time she had seen jj like this was when they were at the fertility doctor earlier in the year, when they talked about the possibility of emily carrying a viable pregnancy. but that wasn’t anything they could talk about right now. the puffiness around her eyes was evident, tear marks showing where she had piled on concealer earlier that morning. she sniffled, gaining your attention. your head perked up and you felt your heart drop when you saw how upset jj was. wordlessly, you shifted on the bed to make room for jj, letting her crawl in, curling herself up between the gap you had created. she wrapped her arms around you, squeezing you tight as she could as a single tear fell down her face. you wiped it away with the pad of your thumb, shooting her a small smile. 

“i’m sorry i reacted that way, baby.” 

her words were muffled into the palm of your hand, her breath dancing across your skin as you put your cheek on top of your head. your logical thinking skills slowly started to poke through the barriers your rejection sensitive dysphoria always put up during these moments, the realization that it also upset jj hitting you like a ton of bricks. you hated seeing her so upset, especially when you knew you caused some of the upset. granted, everything was still so new and you all were getting used to the idea of the three of you being together, but it still hurt you more than you could ever put into words. 

“no, it’s my fault.” you started. “i pushed you too hard. i should have asked before assuming i could just call you mommy and get away with it. do you…?” you trailed off, hoping that jj knew what you were trying to ask.  

“i’m not sure how i feel about the use of mommy.” jj said, quieter than normal. “it didn’t make me feel… i didn’t like it.” 

emily raised her eyebrow, slightly shocked that jj didn’t give you the full truth. while she knew what seemingly the true reason jj didn’t like being called mommy, she knew that it would be something she revealed to you in due time. hell, jj was still figuring it out herself. the dislike of the feminine terms was something that had started within the past year and a half. yes, jj was very feminine presenting and loved dressing up when given the opportunity, yet she had begun to start hating when she was perceived in a feminine matter. it was an interesting late life dilemma to have, and she wasn’t sure how to go about it. she had been so secure in her identity for years, and to start questioning everything? it had started to send jj into a spiral of thoughts she frankly wasn’t ready to think about yet.

the only other person who knew about her dilemma was tara. it had come out one night while the two were having wine after a long case and emily was stuck at the office filling out more paperwork than intended due to her having shot the unsub. the two of them were a bottle and a half deep into pinot gritiot, and jj had blurted out “do you ever just… not want to feel like a girl?” and now here they were, with emily being the second person to know that jj had started to despise the feminine terms of endearment she had been taught to love growing up. it scared her. but not as much as the thought of you thinking you lost her. 

“emmy?” you looked to emily. “do you like being called mommy? because for some reason it felt very natural and i don’t know why.” 

“we can toy around with it.” emily squeezed your hand. “thank you for asking.” 

“i’m sorry i was super bratty earlier, too. i let it go too far.”

“i thought it was hot, actually,” jj started to blush. “i do think we need to play around with different dynamics and what we’re okay and not okay with. nothing has to be set in stone, but if i’m being honest… it was…”

“i liked it when you got all controlling.” you finished jj’s thought. “i really did.” 

“would you want to play around with that more? me being more… in charge sometimes?” 

you nodded. “i’d like that. because i like listening to emmy but…” 

“it’s very easy for you to listen to me, i know.” emily smirked. “and it’s very endearing.”

“is that something you’re okay with?” you looked over to emily. 

“if you’re comfortable with it, then yes.” 

“color system applies to everything we try.” jj stated. “any time, you can tell us to stop and we will. or call yellow and we can talk it out. and it applies to you, too. if there’s anything that we don’t like, we’ll tell you.” 

you nodded. “is there anything else that i’ve done? have i made either of you uncomfortable?” 

emily couldn’t help but clock the nervous look in your eye, seeing the fidgeting start in her peripheral vision. it was sad for her, seeing you like this. she hated when you got sad. you felt certain emotions more than others, and when you did feel them they hit you like a ton of bricks. emily most likely would never know how that truly felt, but she could only imagine the thoughts flowing around in your mind that would make you feel less than. she couldn’t control herself, searching your eyes for any emotion other than guilt. it pained you knowing that you thought you were the reason the conversation was happening. she wanted to grab you by the shoulders and scream at you that it was not your fault and would most likely never be your fault, but she knew that would be counter productive. the three of you were all adults, you could talk about it like adults. 

jj on the other hand, felt horrible. her reaction was the reason you felt as if you were the reason the problem persisted. guilt plagued her as she stared at you, her hand coming up to gently brush back some of the strands that had fallen from your braid. she knew her own insecurities were the reason everything was going the way it was, and the main reason the three of you were sat here in various stages of emotional distress, but it was something she knew taking the blame for would just make you feel worse. she didn’t fully understand how your brain always made you think that you were the problem, but it was something you had been fighting for years. even penelope couldn’t get it through your brain that nothing was ever your fault. and that was saying something, since you and penelope had been friends for ten years leading up to when you joined the bau. both emily and jj knew it would take a while to get past the walls you had put up, but they didn’t realize how tough it would be. but it was a fight they were going to get through together, no matter what it meant. 

“nothing you’ve done could make us uncomfortable, y/n.” jj’s voice softened. “i know this is new, and it’s making you react in ways that you normally wouldn’t react, right?” 

you nodded. “i’m trying to be better, promise. i guess i just want to be taken care of?” you questioned. “but i have a hard time accepting it. like… i just want someone to take care of me like i take care of you. i’m just… i’m getting used to it.”

“is that why you were pushing today?” jj looked at you. “because you wanted to feel taken care of?” 

you sheepishly nodded. “a little bit. i liked it when you told me we were leaving and got all bossy.” 

jj smiled. “i can do that more. do you want to have a certain phrase or word to let me know when you want it?” 

“um… maybe like… a shoulder tap to start? i don’t want to say anything out loud, especially if it happens in front of the team.” 

“how about three taps left shoulder?” you nodded, a small smile forming on your face. “and if there’s anything we do when we’re out that you don’t like?” 

“i’m not sure of that one yet.” you swallowed. “i’m sorry we didn’t have this conversation earlier. we could have avoided this.” 

“lovey, having these conversations is one of the things we need to do to ensure we’re all happy. we can’t necessarily schedule them.”

“i still feel guilty." you sniffled. “i made jj feel bad.”  

“oh baby,” jj pulled you back closer to her as the guilt washed over you again. “i’m not mad at you at all. if anything, i over reacted to that. i promise you i’m not mad. i’m not mad at all.” 

“you promise?”

“i promise.” jj placed a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. “i’m sorry i made you feel like you hurt me.” 

“i’m sorry i didn’t ask you if i could call you mommy and made you upset.” you looked down at your hands, which were fidgeting with your shirt. 

jj lifted your chin up with her finger. “hey hey, none of that now. no more feeling bad.” 

you chuckled. “okay. i’ll try.” 

“how about i draw us a bath?” emily smiled at the two of you. “with the epsom salt for your sore muscles?” 

“that sounds really nice.” you smiled. “can we light the candle i like too?” 

“vanilla swirl or the one that smells like disney?” 

you pursed your lips, thinking. “the one that smells like disney.” 

“i’ll go grab it.” emily placed a kiss to the top of your head. “you feeling better?”

“a little bit.” you nodded. “i’ll be better soon.” 

“good.” she squeezed your hand. “i’ll go get everything and let you know when the bath is ready.” 

emily slipped out of the bed and went to go get your candle, leaving you and jj sitting on the bed together. she placed her forehead against yours, her hand going to cup your cheek as you sat in the silence. 

“i-”

“if you say i’m sorry i’m pushing you off this bed.” 

you chuckled lightly. “i do feel bad.”

“and i’m telling you that you don’t have to. promise. every relationship is going to have it's issues. we’re just able to talk them out because we’re adults.” 

“yeah, you’re right.” you put your head in the crook of jj’s shoulder. “thank you for not being mad.” 

jj smiled. “thank you for listening and not freaking out when i told you i didn’t like it.” 

“i mean i freaked out a little bit.” 

“but not a lot.” jj chuckled. “you’re adorable.” 

“you are too. like, a lot.” 

you snuggled into jj’s arms, curling into her side. it made you feel a lot better knowing that she wasn’t super mad at you like you thought. while you still felt guilty for making her feel bad, it made you feel better knowing that jj didn’t think of you any differently. 

and that she still deeply cared about you. 

taglist: @jayden-prentiss @idkwhatever580 @multifandomlesbianic @softestqueeen

[umgeorge]

The Pressure of the Podium: Interview With George Russell

While British success stories in Formula 1 tend to centre around Lewis Hamilton-as well they should; he's a legend-George Russell has quietly been making a serious name for himself. At a fresh-faced 26 years old, he’s one of the younger racers on the grid and, when we caught up with him ahead of the Hungarian Grand Prix back in the summer, was still revelling in the best season of his career. So, how was he finding the season so far? "Its been... I wouldn't say a rollercoaster, but it's been one that we've been climbing," says Russell. "At the start we were at the bottom of the mountain and been steadily getting closer to the top. There's so much excitement and motivation when you're on a team like this, like we have a visible return on everything we've been putting in, that momentum we've been building up."

We were talking shortly after his second F1 victory in Austria, which was a bit of a hairy one. After spending most of the race in third, still a respectable podium finish, Lando Norris and Max Verstappen ahead of him got a little too close to one another, crashing to take them both out the race. It was a far cry from Russell's incredibly convincing first win. But was there a difference to him? "Each win is incomparable. Every race is a completely different scenario. My first, in Brazil, was where I was ahead every lap. I'd done fantastically the day before and the pressure was there. Near the end I had Lewis on my tail and it was a relief to get across that finish line. In Austria I was happy to be in third, and then it all kicked off ahead and the opportunity arose. Every race is different and you never really know how it's going to go, even when you're behind the wheel." With that kind of uncertainty, it has to be hard to prepare yourself for racing at this level. There's the danger, of course, as that crash in Austria and a multitude of other times shows, but none of these guys would be racing if that put them off. Instead, we were more interested to find out if the pressure ever got to him - and, more importantly, what Russell did to cope with it.

"I'm a little obsessive. I try to make sure I've gone through all the preparation possible with my engineers, taken a look at last year's data, gone over the car, the weather conditions; anything I feel I need to be looking for. Once I've ticked them all off I'm at peace, mentally. I know I'm at my peak physical condition. I know every race is going to be tough. But there are nineteen other drivers and hopefully they'll find it tougher than I will. After that, what will happen, will happen. It's out of your control." With that huge amount of pressure every single week, the intense training regime to stay in that physical condition, and the sheer hectic nature of a globe-trotting racing competition, decompression seems like a necessity. Russell, though, seems to want to take decompressing very literally.

"I love being by the sea so I've started free diving, which is a bit of a random hobby, but when I'm out in the water I'm just so focused on my breathing, on being underwater, that I just disconnect from the world. Once beneath the sea, down there with the fish and coral, you're not thinking about anything else except having enough breath to get back to the top!" Russell isn't the only British racing legend around. We've had a long, illustrious line of champions of which Hamilton is only the latest and Russell could potentially be next. For Russell, there's something in the inspiration of champions of old, and having seven of the ten Formula 1 teams based in the UK helps. But for him, the key to British racing success is British racing's green grass roots.

"I remember racing with Lando and Alex, and alongside other racers who didn't make it to Formula 1 but have made professional racing careers. There's definitely something about the grass roots level here that works. But it needs to stay at that level. This isn't the most economical sport in the world, so we need to make sure that we can give kids that don't have the opportunity, otherwise, the funding they need to get behind the wheel and try go-karting." That said, go-karting is never going to be cheap for most would-be podium contenders, and whether it's that or sheer pace, it's an opportunity sadly few kids have. E-sports, on the other hand, is different. "Simulators have advanced so much now. The Formula 1 game is fantastic and there should be ways we can identify talent sooner, instead of just having financial backing to push you through the ranks."

Whether coming from the classic karting angle or from killing it online with photorealistic driving games, kids are going to need to have to contend with one of the most intensely competitive sports in the world - if not the most. According to Russell, though, they shouldn't be afraid of making mistakes; quite the opposite. "The one piece of advice that I try to embrace, myself, is: don’t be afraid to fail. The times I've failed have been the times I've progressed the most, the times I've really pushed my limits. It doesn't matter what you do; failure is necessary. It's how we grow, how we learn about ourselves. There's so much pressure not to let people down, especially with younger people, but you don't want to go through life never making a mistake or knowing where your ceiling is."

And any advice for those of us not thinking of a career in racing? Even shaving a few seconds off a track day would help for a few more bragging rights. "No matter what you're driving, stay relaxed. I've driven with people that have never been on a track before. They tense up, hunch over, and it makes everything erratic. Smooth is fast - smooth with the steering, throttle, and brake. It's not necessarily how we drive in Formula 1, but if you want to speed up on a track day, stay relaxed." Obviously, it’s not lost on Russell just how many kids and F1 fans alike look up to him as a sportsman. He's young, he's hungry, and his experience is starting to pay off. But for Russell, there are other sportspeople in other sports, and one in his own who I'm sure you can guess, that he looks up to.

"I have a huge amount of respect for Ronaldo. He's without a doubt the leader in his field. The same with Djokovic - they're fighters that push their physical performance. Then there's Lewis, obviously. He puts his platform to great use and I admire him for that as much as his wins and what he's doing off the track. I hope to be one of those leaders in years to come." Now he may well get a chance as Lewis will, in 2025, be moving from Mercedes, as Russell's teammate, over to Ferrari. It's a bold move, but on the other hand it means that Russell will soon be able to race his former teammate as an actual rival. Will that be weird? "He'll be wearing a different suit, but I'll still recognise him! We're at different stages in our career, but we have massive respect for one another. For now, I'll see him on the track."

[thesillymask]

D-Do I see Abel?

....

Can I request an Abel x Female Reader where the reader comforts Ab after a stressful day at work?

Yes! You see our beloved boy Abel! By the way, sorry for the delay! The last few months have been a bit busy for me.

Soft as wool, sweet as honey

Abel x Fem!Winner!Reader (Relationship established)

Genre: fluffy

⚠️warnings:Psychological pressure, possible triggers

Abel never wanted this to be honest, he never wanted to be the new leader of the exorcists. he just agreed to it to continue his father's legacy, even though his father doesn't give a damn about him.

To say he was nervous was an understatement, he was very anxious about the whole thing. Being the leader of the exorcists is a very high position and he was not at all prepared for it. He had to have an extremely long conversation with Sera about the rules and his duties as the new leader, in addition to having to train for hours to have some combat skills. And let's not even mention the paperwork, dammit! What's the need for so many documents!? Couldn't he just write down his name and make it official?

And if that wasn't enough the next day he had more work, and very early! He spent almost the entire day hiring new exorcists and running after new angelic weapons. That job really wasn't for him... But he couldn't give up now! Not when all the seraphim were counting on him and the exorcists needed new members and a new leader after the disaster of the last extermination. He had to do it, it was his duty... He needed to...

Once his work was finally done, he stretched and gave an exhausted sigh. He then gets up from the chair he was in and leaves his office. He locks his door, a tired look on his face as he takes off the mask, fixing his hair.

— "god... What a tiring day..."

He mutters to himself and then spreads his wings, flapping them lightly and then starting to fly. He must have to fly a lot until he finally gets to his house, after all his father's office (which was now his) was very far from where he lived. He gently opens the door, closing it behind him as he lets out a soft groan of frustration. he is then greeted by (name), his girlfriend, his gaze softening as he saw her

— "Honeybun... Hi..."

He gives a slight smile when he sees her, placing his mask on a nearby piece of furniture and hugs her, wrapping her in his arms while muttering softly. (name) notices his tired behavior and gently strokes his back.

— "hey Abel... How was work today?"

She asks, a hint of concern in her voice. She barely saw him all day and was thinking about him all day. Abel just nods and lets out a sigh, before breaking the hug.

— "It was... It was good... I think..."

He said softly, his shoulders slumping as he looked away. It was clear he didn't want to worry her, but it was obvious how stressed he was at that moment. (name)'s gaze softens and she puts her hands on his shoulders Abel, making him look at her

— "You don't look well... Do you want to sit down and talk a little?"

She says with a warm expression, wanting Abel to know that she was there for him. Abel looks at him for a few seconds before nodding slowly. She takes Abel into the living room, sitting next to him on the sofa. Abel was looking down, avoiding looking at her. She notices his tension and reaches out to touch his arm.

— "hey... Look at me..."

(name) says in a soft, sweet tone. Abel hesitates for a moment before looking at her, his eyes looking at her, you could see he looked agitated.

— "Tell me... Was work very stressful for you?"

(name) asks, her eyes never leaving his face. Abel lets out a sigh and nods, looking down at the ground again.

— "yeah... I had to endure over and over job interviews with so many candidates... There were so many and I was so agitated... They looked so serious and had a blank look in their eyes... Also I had to look for new angelic weapons for the new exorcists... I had to order several of them..."

He says in a frustrated tone, his hands clasped together as his fingers press together a little tighter, a sign of how nervous and overwhelmed he is. (name) looks at him with a soft and understanding look, I understand how stressful the day must have been. her hand moves down his arm to his hand, holding it

— "It must have been too much for you..."

(name) stops talking for a moment, before speaking again.

— "You know you don't have to do this, right?..."

— "Of course I do... Everyone is counting on me... I can't let them down now... I can't give up now..."

Abel says, turning to look at her, his brow slightly furrowed as he looked away. (name) reaches her other hand to Abel's face, cupping his cheek and turning his head to look at her.

— "I understand that you don't want to disappoint others... But if you don't want that... You can't force yourself to do it..."

Abel just lets out another sigh, burying his face in his hands.

— "I know I know... I just... I'm just tired... I'll be fine, I promise..."

He then takes his hands off his face and looks at her

— "I just need to recover..."

He says, trying to reassure her and convince her that everything was okay. (name) looks at him, seeing that Abel needed comfort more than anything. she suddenly pulls him into a hug, holding him close and stroking his back

— "ok... If that's what it takes..."

She says in a low, soft tone, making Abel feel a warmth in his chest. He hugs her back and buries his face in her shoulder, closing his eyes as he enjoys the feeling.

— "thank you... thank you very much... I needed this..."

he says, snuggling his face into the crook of her neck as he holds her close. They stay hugging like that until (name) has an idea and lies down on the couch, pulling him along. Abel lets out a soft cry of surprise, before relaxing and burying his face in her chest, letting out a soft sigh of relief. (name) begins to gently stroke his hair, humming sweetly.

— "Comfortable?"

she asked, earning a nod and a soft, muffled 'mhm' from Abel. an affectionate smile and continues to caress his hair, her fingers snaking through the strands, feeling the softness and smoothness. they sit in peaceful silence until Abel suddenly speaks

— "hey cinnamonpie"

he says quietly, earning a curious look from (name)

— "yeah?"

— "I love you..."

— "I love You too..."

Here it is! I'm sorry if it wasn't what you wanted. I really tried my best

I'm so happy to be the first to do an Abel x reader, I love him so much! I want to hug him and never let him go 💖

[ectoplasmer]

i’m being so normal over these characters totally acting like other fans of them there is nothing that can say otherwise i’m being the most exceedingly basic about them *literally vibrating with Emotions over card game anime characters*

[vampyroteuthid]

today was unbelievably insane which is to say it was pretty normal until like 12:30 pm when he decided to do an emergency pyometra spay on a uhhh 7 year old frenchie boston terrier. i was so nice to her owner cause she was so upset and crying about dropping her off before we even knew about the pyo but then it turned out her email was thin blue line something and then she told me she feeds her (7‽) dogs (all rescues supposedly) 5 different kinds of kibble "for the vitamins" along with cheese and gravy and ground meat. and how royal canin (the only product that she listed worth feeding) is "just awful chemicals" but she sprinkles it in sometimes. also how she knows her dog's nails are long but she "lets them curl around so it's easier to cut them." and then her dog tried to bite me and everyone. ma'am i should have been an asshole to you my bad

[robinsnest2111]

augh the absolute need to be held and pet and showered with love and gentle praise is so STRONG tonight 😭

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[classyrbf]

YOU'RE PREGNANT! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...how the jjk men(toji, gojo, geto, nanami, choso) act when you’re 9 months pregnant and ready to pop

INFO...jjk men x fem!reader, fluff, comfort, reader is pregnant (obvi), mention of mood swings, cravings, emotional reader, jjk men being great dads

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

TOJI

toji has already dealt with this kind of thing before when it came to megumi, but it’s been so long that he’s almost forgotten what it was like. You’re waddling around the house, a stank look on your face as you stare at him. “Yes?” He questions, eyebrows raised. “I want food,” you simply answer. “Okay, what do you want?” He asks. And when you tell him you’re not sure, he lets out a long sigh because he knows this is gonna end in you getting emotional. You’ll complain your back hurts, your feet hurt, and then you’ll end up cursing him out for putting a baby in you. So all he does is walks over to you, and hugs you because he’d rather do that than get into a stupid argument about food. “Toji!” You cry into his arms. “I’m just so hungry and I don’t know what to eat!” You sniffle. To help with your problem, he starts listing off every fast food restaurant and food he could think of in hopes you’d find one appealing enough. “Chinese food?” He shrugs. You gasp with excitement. “Ugh, yes! Me and the baby could go for some orange chicken!” You smile. Toji just chuckles, “making the call right now, sweetheart.” He watches as you waddle over to the couch, smiling like a kid in a candy store.

GOJO

ever since he found out you were pregnant, he was at the stores buying whatever supplies he saw, doesn’t matter if you needed it or not. And till this day, when you’re about a few weeks from popping, he’s still buying the baby things. “What do you think of this, eh?” He smirks, holding up a onesie that says “my dad is the best”. “You’re gonna spoil her rotten, is what I think,” you groan as you reach into the bag to see what else he bought for your daughter. “More toys?” You hold up a fake set of plastic keys. Gojo snatched them from you. “I’ll have you know that she will be learning life skills at a very young age, thank you very much,” he scoffed. All you did was laugh, shaking your head at him in disbelief. Your daughter’s room was filled to the brim with clothes, toys, blankets, you were starting to wonder if you had any more room. “I can already tell she’s going to be a daddy’s girl,” you said with a sigh, rubbing your belly. “Yes she is,” Gojo leaned in towards your very plump belly, “isn’t that right?” He placed a kiss on your stomach.

NANAMI

nanami is the type that doesn’t let you do a damn thing by yourself. You’re reach for something to high on the shelf, he’s sprinting towards you, ready to be at your service. “Be careful,” he says, rubbing your back. “Kento, I got it,” you chuckle. His eyes are always on you, watching your every move. Especially when you’re in public, he hates when people get too close to you. He knows others don’t watch their surroundings and could easily bump into you. “Ken!” You shout from the bedroom. “Yes?” He peeks his head around the corner. “Can you help me get my shoes on, I can’t even reach,” you pout. Within seconds he’s on his knees, slipping on your sandals, and tying them around your ankle. He will even go as far as to paint your toes if you forgot because he knows how much you hate not having them done. Like I said, he won’t let you do a thing by yourself. “Thank you, Ken,” you kiss his lips.

GETO

geto literally pampers you. I’m not saying he acts like nanami, but I’m saying that he makes your pregnancy as comfortable as possible. “Sugu, baby, can you rub my feet? They’re swollen.” You frown. “Of course.” He grabs the lotion and casually massages your feet while you’re both watching a movie, and literally over the course of your pregnancy he’s become the best masseuse ever. He’ll also randomly creep up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist before lifting your belly, feeling the weight off of your back. “Feel better, mama?” He kisses your cheek. “So much better.” You nod, closing your eyes as you embrace the moment. You’ve even found it hard to shower while being pregnant and geto takes it upon himself to help you, albeit jumping in the shower with you or sitting on the edge of the tub while you’re in the bath. “Is the water too hot?” He rubs the soapy water over your shoulders. “It’s perfect.”

CHOSO

I’m sorry but choso is clueless. Not in a bad way, but in like a panicky way. You’re an emotional wreck through your pregnancy, moods swings like crazy. “Can you just get out please?!” You’re annoyed with him, bothered about the littlest thing ever and then in the next two minutes you’re walking out the room just crying and apologizing to him, kissing his cheek. He has no idea what the hell is going on, and you’d think he’d learn after nine months, but no. All he can is just sit there and comfort you. “It’s fine,” he assures. He gets your favorite food that you’ve been craving for the past two weeks, eating it non stop and then within a split second you’re gagging, pushing the food away. “Oh my gosh, Choso! Please throw it away, it tastes so bad.” You gag again. “But…I…you were just eating this yesterday…?” He’s says, confused before throwing the bowl of food in the garbage. Quite literally doesn’t understand anything, just confused to all hell, but he’s trying his best.

[mostly-imagines]

The Alchemy vol. I

jason todd x fem!reader

aka the progression of your relationship with the red hood

vol II

warnings: slow burn, mentions of attempted sa for reader, depictions of blood and injury, mentions of standard gotham violence

Dear fuck, he’s as heavy as he looks.

You use all of your weight to pull him backwards towards the couch, almost giving up when you realized you’d have to lift him up off the ground to actually get on it.

Getting him through the window was enough of a hassle, challenging the difficulty of the decision to bring him in here at all. 

Thankfully you don’t have to think too hard on it because you feel his body stiffen up suddenly. He jolts upright, though clearly pained to do so, hand flying to the gun holster on his side.

You take a step back, hands out in front of you. “Hey, it’s alright.”

“Who are you?” His voice is interrogative. 

You put your hands down, “You’re the one who passed out on my balcony, I think if anyone gets to ask that question it’s me.”

He stares at you, white lenses bearing into your soul.

Okay, yeah. You tell him your name. He doesn’t move. “You just looked like you needed some help..”

His posture loosens a bit, and his hand finally leaves the holster.

He glances down at his abdomen, a sizable tear in his suit and a nearly alarming amount of blood. “You got any bandages?”

“Uh, I—yeah, yeah, I do.” You dart down the hall into the bathroom, shuffling through your first aid kid. You toss a few wraps into your arms, along with some antiseptic spray you suspect he’ll need. You grab your hand towel and get it wet under warm water. 

When you return, he’s moved himself onto the sofa, lifting his shirt up to assess the damage. You round the couch, seeing more blood than you’d have hoped for.

“Can I?” You ask, motioning to his injury. 

He looks up at you for a long moment. He nods.

You kneel down in front of him and replace his hand in lifting up the shirt. It’s a cut, it doesn’t look terribly deep, but still not shallow enough that he could just leave it.

You take the rag and dab it around the wound, trying to clean up the blood as much as possible without making contact with it.

He’s very still as you work, and you get the strong impression he’s watching you carefully.

You grab the antiseptic spray, shaking it. “This’ll sting.”

He grunts.

You apply the antiseptic thoroughly and he doesn’t even flinch. Doesn’t move his gaze from you for a second.

You unwrap one of the bandages and place it on firmly, making sure there’s no bleedthrough.

And not that you particularly want to be thinking about this right now, but the man is noticeably ripped. Stacked like a house of cards.

You rip away your gaze and stand up, hands on your hips, taking a deep breath. You look at him—at his helmet.

You don’t know how you can tell, but he’s studying you. Trying to get a read on you, maybe. Regardless, you’re eager to escape the gaze.

You shovel the remainder of your supplies back into your arms and bring them back to the bathroom, calling out, “I didn’t take off your helmet, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

There’s a short beat. 

“Do I seem like someone that worries often?” 

You peek your head out of the bathroom door. 

You look at him. “You seem like someone that doesn’t worry enough.”

He snorts. “You’re not far off.”

You make your way back once you’re done, looking at the disregarded meal you’d been interrupted from. “I have pasta if you…eat.”

“I do.”

“I can go in the other room if you—”

He clicks the lock on his helmet, taking it off. He’s left with a second mask underneath, covering his eyes and nose. His dark hair sticks up from the helmet, a white streak poking out in the front. He looks younger than you would’ve expected. Cuter, if his jaw is anything to go by.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Okay then.

You grab a second plate out of the cabinet and scoop on the rest of the pasta from the pan.

You hand him the plate, avoiding standing too close. 

“Thanks, sweetheart.” 

You turn back around as casually as possible after hearing the name, wanting to avoid letting your face give anything away.

This guy kills people, right?

You sit down in the armchair across from the couch, spooling the pasta on and off the fork. He doesn’t show the same hesitation in dining away that you do—you guess fighting crime would require some calorie exchange.

“You a nurse?” He asks after a few minutes. 

The question takes you by surprise. You hadn’t taken him as a small talk kind of person. “Huh? Oh, no, I’ve just taken a few first aid courses and stuff.”

He gives a short hum, thoughtful.

“What?”

“You’re good.” Hardly.

“I didn’t really do anything.”

“You did enough.” He says, not leaving much room for argument.

He stands up at once, walking past you to the kitchen. Your gaze follows him silently. He puts his empty plate in the sink and returns to the edge of the living room.

He looks at you once more and pops his helmet back on followed by the click of the lock.

“I’ll see ya.” He says shortly, before ducking out the window.

You’re left alone, sitting in your armchair, plate of cold pasta forgotten on your lap.

That could’ve gone very badly. Maybe not your most thought-through decision to literally drag the Red Hood into your apartment, but hey. Maybe you’re exercising your ability to be an upstanding, helpful person. Or maybe you were just hoping to prevent a vigilante being found dead on your fire escape.

Regardless, you close the window after him, leaving it unlocked. Just in case.

You wake in the middle of the night to the sounds of footsteps in your living room. You shoot upright, immediately spotting the lamp light flooding in from under your door.

Creeping to a stand, you grab the baseball bat next to your bed and slowly walk to the door.

You creep the door open as quietly as possible, inching out half a step at a time. A nearby creak on your floorboards had you swinging blindly, only to have your bat get stopped midair. You look up to see Mr. Hood himself, blocking the blow of your hit with his hand. 

“Wow. You and a bat against Gotham, huh, sweetheart?”

“Fuck!” You let go of the bat and drown your face in your hands. “What is wrong with you?”

“Apparently that I don’t carry enough baseball bats with me.” He says coolly, inspecting your bat. Though he’s got to admit, your bat is probably a hell of a lot more useful than his. 

You drop your arms at your side. “If I’d known bringing you into my apartment one time was going to be considered a free pass forever, I might’ve thought twice.”

“If I’d known I was going to nearly be concussed with a baseball bat, I might’ve too.” Barely. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re still half asleep and it was not a very good swing.

He looks at you straight on for the first time. His helmet quickly drifts down and back up to your face just as fast.

You look down. T-Shirt, underwear, and…no that’s it. Not…ideal. You pull down on the unfortunately not at all oversized shirt, wanting to creep back into your room.

He turns his back, allowing you to do just that and scramble for some shorts to throw on. 

“Very gentlemanly of you.” You call out from your room, “And only thirty seconds after breaking into my apartment.”

“Okay, one, I’ve been here longer than that. In a non creepy way.”

“Right.”

“And two, I didn’t break anything. You live in the middle of Gotham and don’t lock your window?”

You reemerge in the doorway, “I live on the eighth floor.” 

He turns around to face you again, helmet in his hands. “Didn’t stop me.” No it did not. 

“Mm. So are you here specifically to judge my home security or was there something you needed?”

He takes a deep breath, “Actually yeah. I just need a place to rest for a minute.” 

“Rest from what?”

A series of gunshots echo from down the street.

“Next question.”

Concise.

You and Hood sit on the couch in the dark, per his insistence, because for some godforsaken reason, you have no curtains. It takes a few minutes for the silence to dissipate into forced conversation, which takes a few more minutes to fade into actual conversation.

“Can I be honest with you?” You ask him.

“Does it matter how I answer?”

“I don’t understand how you’re not dead.” You poke your head up, turning to him. “Are you human?”

He cranes his neck to look out the window, “Maybe getting shot at isn’t the worst thing that could happen tonight…”

You roll your eyes with a smile that you’re glad is hidden by the darkness. “Oh, fuck off.”

“You don’t have much in terms of self-preservation skills, do you?”

You ignore him as to not acknowledge that he’s probably right and roll through to your next curiosity, “Who the hell was shooting at you anyways?” Though, you don’t really expect an answer.

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. They got ‘til sunrise anyway.”

You tilt your head, “‘Til sunri—” oh. Yeah. Come to think of it, he does have two guns on him right now. At least that you can see. You squint blankly at the wall, “You know, I’m placing a lot of trust in the hope that you’re not just as bad as those guys.”

“Yes you are.” He nods, not doing anything to convince you that he is in fact a good guy. He hasn’t tried to harm you in any way though, so you guess that’s a good sign.

You tilt your head at him. “Do you get paid to do this?” 

“I’m pretty sure there’s a lot of people who would pay me not to do this.” 

You nod solemnly, mouth turned into an exaggerated frown. “So you have a day job?”

He looks over at you, “Do you always ask this many questions?”

“Are you always so dodgy about answering them?” You shoot back. If you’d thought for .5 seconds longer on that, you might not have said anything. But you feel comfortable here, in your apartment with a man whose face you’ve never seen, name you don’t know, and always has at least two loaded guns on him.

He huffs out a laugh, “Yeah. I am.” He looks over at you. “You live here by yourself?”

You look around at the empty apartment before turning back to him, “Seems that way.”

He shrugs, “Boyfriend could be out or something.”

“Well most people are asleep at one in the morning. Like I was. Remember that?”

“No.”

You sigh, curling up into a ball on your end of the couch, resting your chin on your knees. You’re quiet for a minute before piping up, “Do people actually break into apartments on high floors a lot?”

“Stupid people.” He pauses, looking over at the frown on your face. “Look, I’m in the neighborhood a lot. If I see somebody climbing your fire escape I’ll shoot them.”

You let a little smile out, “I’m thinking there’s other steps you could take before you get to that point.”

“If you want to waste time.” His gaze doubles back at you, “That was a joke, by the way.”

You bark out a tired laugh, “Yeah, I picked up on that, thanks.”

He removes his eyes from you, fixing on a set of pictures you have hanging on the wall.

Your eyes flutter and you move to rest your head on the arm of the couch. “Is this going to be a regular thing then?”

“You could lock your window.”

“Living on the eighth floor didn’t stop you, I can’t imagine a shitty lock will do much more.”

“If you don’t want me here, I won’t be here.” He says gruffly.

“If I don’t want you here, I’ll let you know.” You mumble, eyes closing.

You can barely make out a laugh from him, “Good to know.”

You’re not quite sure how much time goes by when he leaves, but you have a pretty strong feeling you’d fallen asleep. Your main indicator was feeling the blanket draped nicely over you that you could’ve sworn was on the chair across the room.

Maybe it’s ten o’clock at night and you’re sat on your kitchen floor, bawling your eyes out. Maybe you’re going to have to quit your job. Or maybe you’ll have to face a lawsuit. Maybe this is the worst day in the history of time. Maybe it’s about to get worse. 

The sound of your living room window sliding open has you startling into a rush, body panicking as if you’ve done something wrong and desperately need to cover the evidence. The past few weeks of sporadic visits leaves no question about who it is, and you just hope the kitchen island in front of you will be enough to convince Hood that you’re not in and he’ll leave.

But because today is today, that’s not how it goes down.

You can vaguely make out the sound of his footsteps approaching, a courtesy that you’re sure he incorporated on purpose.

“Oh fuck…” you mutter to yourself, wiping your eyes.

He rounds the counter, looking down at you. “Wha—what’s wrong?”

“Fuck. Nothing.” You say, standing up and adjusting your clothes. “Are you hurt?” He better fucking not be at only ten.

“No, I—why are you on the floor?” 

You roll your eyes, “I live alone, forgive me for assuming I would be given the privilege to cry on the floor in private.”

“Did something happen?” You’re trying really hard not to call him an idiot. 

You raise your eyebrows, giving a light nod. “Uh, yeah, I’d say so.”

He shifts in his stance, “Do I need to talk to someone?”

You scoff, knowing damn well his version of ‘talk to someone’ does not include talking to someone. “Why are you even here so early?” 

“Wanted to stop by before I went out.” he says quietly.

You’re about to snap something at him again, but the burning in your eyes takes immediate priority. You wrap your arms around your middle and try to calm yourself down, with very little success. The tears fall easily and your shoulders start shaking as you look at the floor, letting the melancholy take over. 

It feels like much longer than it probably was, but sometime after the first few tears fall he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. This only makes you cry harder, sobbing against his armor. Your arms stay wrapped around your center, while his hands remain completely still against your back, though firm. You don’t realize it immediately, but he’s holding a good portion of your weight up, you’d for sure collapse onto the floor otherwise. You kind of wish you would. Sitting on the floor felt nice, maybe falling down on it will feel even better.

You slowly start to regain your breathing, the well in your eyes drying up again. He waits for you to stop completely and slowly pulls back from you, hands momentarily still wavering next to you like he’s ready to catch you.

It takes you a minute to notice, but his helmet is locked on to the finger-shaped bruises on your forearm. You awkwardly move your opposite arm to cover them, looking around your apartment with nothing to search for.  

He’s quiet for a long while, clearly thinking hard. “What happened?”

You sniffle, “Some asshole at my job.”

“Some asshole?” He doesn’t believe you. Rightfully so, but he has no business being able to tell that you’re lying about one single word in that sentence.  

“My boss. Was very intent on successfully hitting on me.” You exhale deeply, “His approach could use some work though, if I’m honest.”

His posture remains statue-like. “Where do you work?”

You look at him straight on for the first time that night, “What does that matter?”

“I’ll take care of it.” He says simply.

You wave him off, “It’s fine.”

He waits a moment before letting you know, “I’m being polite by asking, I’m going to find out either way.”

You plop back down on the kitchen floor, knees to chest. “Well, then do it the hard way.”

About ten seconds of him staring down at you in silence go by, before he sits down next to you. It’s a bit funny how he tries to shrink himself down next to you, you’re assuming because he doesn’t want you to get panicked again because this massive stranger is sitting next to you in your kitchen in the dead of night.  

You don’t look at him as he clicks his helmet off and sets it on the other side of him. It’s quiet for another minute when he holds his gloved hand out to you, and you’re not quite sure how you know what he wants, but you do. You place your bruised arm in his hand, letting him gently pull it closer to him and scan over it. 

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” 

Again, you don’t know how, but you can tell he’s asking how far things went. “I started screaming and it freaked him out. He let me go.” you say numbly. 

You can see him nod out of the corner of your eye, bits of red making their way into your peripheral despite the discarded helmet. You turn slowly to look at him, finding him looking at you already.  

His face is more covered than it had been the first night, the same black mask covers his eyes but the lower half of his face is also hidden by a red mouthpiece. You’re in the lamp light and closer to him than you had been before and you’re counting out specks of green in his blue eyes. He lets you, to your surprise, and when you run out of emerald hues you take focus on his thick, dark eyelashes. Your gaze moves back ever so slightly to make eye contact with him and you tear your eyes away, zeroing in on the kitchen tiles. 

You sigh contemplatively, “I’m worried if you kill my boss it’ll be traced back to me and I’ll get pinned for it.”

He doesn’t laugh. But your delivery was a little dry in the wrong way so really it was on you.

“I’m not going to kill him.” he tells you, “I wouldn’t gamble with my pied-a-terre like that.”

Your head falls back, hitting the drawer behind you with a light thud. “Then why waste your time at all?” Maybe you should slow down with the snide comments.

He wants to, but he doesn’t call out the implied self-slighting in your words. “Maybe it’s a ‘me’ thing but I don’t particularly like men that hurt women.”

You let out a dry laugh. “In Gotham, it just might be.”

He sits with you on the linoleum tile of your kitchen until your eyes start to droop and he lightly corrals you to your bedroom before taking his exit through the window. You told him multiple times that he could go and you were fine, but he insisted that nothing important was happening in the city that time of night. You didn’t quite believe him though, because it was past midnight by the time he’d headed out.  

When you showed up to work the following day your boss wasn’t there. Wasn’t there the day after either. Or the day after. He didn’t make an appearance again until the following Monday. And when he did show face, he did so with a neck brace and a cast on his leg. But once more, he absolutely refused to make eye contact or speak to any of the female employees. It actually became a whole thing when he wouldn’t give instructions or feedback to any of you, and insisted on having his secretary replaced with a man, who he then used as a middle man to speak to all of the women for him. HR got involved three times in the span of the next five days, and by the Monday after, he’d been fired.

So to recap: yes, no, no, undecided, and hard no. 

Maybe you’re really starting to like this Red Hood guy.

Hard yes.

You’re slightly on guard upon hearing a clattering on the balcony, though if the past few weeks have been any indicator, you’re not in much danger.

Your posture slumps as you peer around the hallway corner, “Oh, it’s you.”

“Good to see you too.” he grumbles, dropping onto the floor.

“Well, I have to imagine I’m a step up from the last person you saw.” You say, looking him up and down, seeing what sure as hell looks like a gunshot wound on his chest armor. “What happened to you? The Mad Hatter uses guns now?”

He groans, “Ah, I said something about him being a heartless fuck, and I guess he took it personally.”

You sigh, “Jesus Christ, Hood.”

He waves you off, “It’s not that big of a deal.” 

You scoff, “He tried to shoot you in the heart.”

“Yeah, well, he missed.” He grumbles, adjusting his position on the couch. 

You exhale sharply, “How do you know?”

“How do I know?” He tilts his helmet at you, exasperated. 

You throw your arms up at your side, “I don’t know! I’m not equipped for this scenario.”

He huffs, “Look, it’s fine, it hit my armor. It’ll probably just be a bad bruise.”

“Probably?”

“I don’t think there’s blood. Could you…” he vaguely gestures to his torso, but it's enough for you to get the hint.

You shake the panic out of your head, “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

You help him shrug off his jacket as he strips off his armor, and you lift his shirt up as slowly as you can in case the injury is worse than he thinks.

You’re not shocked to see that he has scars, that’s kind of a given in his line of work. What you are shocked to see is one very long scar that lines directly up the center of his body. It’s a deep scar, too.

And, oh. The long scar extends further, splitting off into a fork at his collar. That’s—oh. Oh. Oh. That is an autopsy scar. 

You’re not sure what to do. You’ve never seen a living person with an autopsy scar—though you have to imagine neither have most people.

He clearly does not want to talk about it and you’re happy to let him keep the skeleton in the closet.

You avert your gaze back over to his diaphragm at the area of reddened skin.

“There’s no blood, but…” You inspect it a bit closer, “I think there’s going to be a bad bruise. You might end up with bruising on your ribs, you need to get that looked at.”

“I am.” He says shortly.

You stand up straight, dropping your shoulders. “By someone who went to medical school. Or has taken more than one anatomy class in their life.” 

He yanks down his shirt, standing, apparently too quickly, and wobbling. You catch his arm as he sways, attempting to steady him. “You should sit down.”

“Need to go back out.” He grunts, trying to pull away from you with little force.

“To get killed? ‘Cause you’re going the right way about it.” 

He tilts his head at you like he’s daring you to be so bold again. At least that's what it felt like. You sigh, gesturing to the couch, “Sit down.”

You didn’t expect it to work but he does as told.

You look around, unsure of what to do next. “Do you need ice?”

“What?”

“You’re hurt.” You say slower. “Do you need ice?”

He falters for a second, “No, it’s—no.” A couple beats pass before he adds, “Thanks, sweetheart.” 

It’s impossible not to notice that he’s staring at you. You feel hot under his gaze, not knowing what to do with yourself. You clear your throat, telling him to hang on for a second. 

You call out behind you as you walk to the kitchen, “Take your helmet off, it’s rude.” You grab the painkillers from their new easily-accessible place on the kitchen counter and grab a water bottle from the fridge.

It was a joke but when you come back his helmet is off and he’s just wearing his domino eye mask. His hair is extra tousled, the white streak barely visible in the mess of loose curls. You toss the bottle of meds at him, followed by the capped bottle of water. He catches them easily, downing more than he probably should have but he got shot tonight so you figure you’ll give him a break about it.    

You plop down on the couch next to him, honestly closer than you’d meant to. Your knees and shoulders lightly brush against one anothers, though neither of you make any moves to scoot over. 

You both look straight ahead at the wall, simmering in the amity. “So did somebody else deal with the Hatter or when you get shot do you just bounce back like a T-1000?”

He scoffs, “No, getting shot at is a bit of an inconvenience for me.”

“Wrong line of work.”

He cocks an eyebrow, “You’re telling me.”

You turn your head to him, “Why do you do it then?” 

He looks back at you earnestly. “Someone has to.” 

“Someone does.”

He tenses up a bit at that, breaking eye contact. “Not well enough.” 

Your head slowly lulls and drops into a rest on his shoulder, causing him to stiffen up a bit more before almost completely relaxing.

“So violence is the answer to violence?” you ask, not argumentative, just genuinely musing. 

Hood sighs, “Half-assed reform programs didn’t do anything, shitty ‘crisis interventions’ didn’t do anything, the cops sure as hell don’t do anything.” He shrugs under you. “You run out of options eventually.”

“And that’s why you took it upon yourself to intervene?”

“Mm. ‘When reason fails, the devil helps.’” He says, quite melodramatically, in your opinion.

“I-Is that—” you squint, shooting off of his shoulder to look him in the eye. “You spend your nights getting in street fights and shootouts and you spend your days reading Crime and Punishment of all things?” You gawk at him, “That explains a lot about your disposition.”

He shrugs with a shake of his head. “It’s a rough world. Can’t afford to be reading about Hogwarts.”

You pause, combing through your next words, “‘Man only likes to count his troubles; he doesn’t calculate his happiness.’”

His eyes crinkle under his mask as he smiles, clearly pleasantly surprised that you know your shit. “Touché.”

You grin back, pleased with yourself. 

There’s a brief recession where your smiles both get caught in the flicker between on and off, where your eyes take the opportunity to scan over each other’s faces. 

You realize that this may be the first time you’ve seen him properly smile and it’s so magnetizing. So much so that you don’t realize you’re staring at his lips until your eyes snap back up to his and find that his are on yours.

His eyes don’t leave yours as he nudges you a bit with his shoulder. It does just enough to break the trance, giving you the cue to rest your head on him again. This time you allow more of your weight to lean against him and he actually seems relaxed for once.

 You glance at the clock on the wall without moving and realize it’s almost four in the morning. “I’m tired, Hood.” you mumble into his shirt.

“You don’t—” he falters for a moment, “You don’t have to call me that.”

You squint at him, “What should I call you then?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “J.”

“J?” you whisper, like it’s a grave secret. You guess it kind of is.

He nods.

“Okay.” Your cheek flattens against his shoulder. “J.” 

You nearly think you’re imagining it when you feel him rest his head against yours.

“You don’t know how to protect yourself?”

You roll your eyes at him, “You saw the way I swung at you with the baseball bat, what do you think?”

It’s only just after sunset, you could still see some purple-pink hues in the sky if you looked out the window. He’s started showing up before patrol some nights, saying he felt bad about waking you up at 3 am multiple times a week. So now, he mostly only drops in late if he’s a manageable amount of injured.

You stand in the middle of your living room together, after you’d made a joke about needing him as a bodyguard in Gotham. As it turns out, that was a one way street to him finding out that you’re useless in a fight.

“I was hoping you were having an off night because you just woke up, but now I'm concerned.” He says, grimacing.

You shrug, “I carry pepper spray.” 

He grumbles, displeased. “Put your hands up.”

You drop your head to the side and glower at him, “Really?”

He raises his eyebrows at you. Just do it. 

Alright, you’ll humor him. You put your fists up and he holds his hands open in front of you in kind. You throw a light punch.

“Come on, put your weight behind it.”

You do, hitting his hand harder. “Hood—”

He tilts his head forward at that, looking at you through his brows.

You inhale impatiently, “J, Why do we have to do this? I don’t have any illusions that I could knock you out and I can’t imagine you do either.” 

He shakes his head, “It’s not about knocking someone out, it’s about defending yourself. Gonna be a hell of a lot harder to hurt you if you’re throwing punches. Harder.”

You give a raised hum, “Not if they have a gun…”

“Well, we’ll work on that too.”

You groan, throwing a half-assed hit. “Where’d you learn to fight?” You ask before throwing another.

“Turn your body into it.” He corrects. “My, uh, my dad taught me.”

You hum, hitting him again. “Are you guys close?”

“You’re being nosy again.” He grunts amidst a hit.

“You’re being evasive again.” You shoot back.  

He drops his hands, taking your wrists in his, “Here, put your hands in front of your face when you shoot so you can block counters.” He tells you, adjusting your stance accordingly.

You make a face, “I’m confused, am I fighting a mugger or a kickboxer?”  

He ignores you, moving his hands around to give you different angles to hit at. 

You go at it for a few minutes, taking his critiques with reluctant concedence. “Alright, that’s good.” He says, relaxing his body.

You perk up, “We’re done?” 

“No,” he shuts you down before asking earnestly, “Do you trust me?”

Your brain hadn’t even fully processed the question before you nod, mumbling a ‘yes’. He takes a measured step closer to you, watching carefully for your reaction. You almost back up in surprise, angling your head up further to look at him properly. You give no objection, so he continues, “I want you to try to get me on the ground.”

You let out a sound that’s half-laugh, half-scoff. “You’re twice my size.”      

He sighs, looking at you somberly. “Sweetheart, odds are you’re not going to be evenly matched against someone that wants to hurt you. You get ‘em on the ground ‘n you have the upper hand or it’ll give you time to get away.”

You throw your hands up at your sides, “I don’t—” You huff, “Fine, okay.” You try to trip him by sliding your leg behind his and kicking, but he blocks you expertly.

You, against better judgment, shove your shoulder into his side, though it does nothing to phase him, let alone knock him down. 

“You gotta get more creative than that.” He chastises with a tut. 

In response, you take a step back to reassess the situation. You try to maintain a poker face as you strategize in your head. You make a dive for his legs, wrapping your arms around the back of his legs and pulling hard to make him lose balance. You’re sure if he were actually trying for a damn you would immediately be done for afterwards, but it does make him wobble. You then throw all of your weight against him, pushing him backwards and causing him to hit the floor with a thud.

He probably allowed for gravity to come to your aid, but he lands on his back all the same. You land half on him, half on the carpet, your hand resting on his chest. He looks up at you nodding, “Good. That was good, sweetheart.”

You smile, quite proud of yourself, and start to stand up when he hooks his arm around the back of your knee and pulls you to the ground too, switching places with you. You hit the ground gently with a sigh, “Really?”

He has one hand rested next to your head to balance him in his place above you. He smirks down at you and lets a tussle of white hair hang over his forehead. “Can’t be getting cocky, sweetheart.”

You laugh sourly, “Coming from you?” 

You quickly push at the bend of his arm and use the distraction to adjust your position to wrap your legs around his center and push your arm against his chest in an attempt to rotate him off of you.

He counters you by pushing your shoulder down, holding you down to the floor. His opposite hand flies to pull your forearm away from his chest, pinning it next to your head, careful to avoid your hair. He moves so quickly that you have half a mind to think he acted on pure instinct. That, and the look on his face when the dust settles says that he hadn’t intended for you to end up in this position. 

Your legs are still wrapped around him and you’re too frozen in the moment to make any changes. He’s in no more of a rush to move, large frame towering over you. You feel his touch stutter against your shoulder, his eyes flickering across your face.

You gaze up at him, taking in the soft look in his eyes behind the mask. You think you can see more green than you did before. You unwrap your legs from around his waist and slowly start to sit up. He releases your wrist and eases the pressure on your shoulder. He leans back half as quickly as you move forward, stopping when you’re propped up on your elbows.

Your faces are only a few inches apart and it feels like your only option is to look down at his lips. You have a feeling he’s doing the same to you. The adrenaline of the hassle has long since faded but the rhythm in both of your chests remains quick.

He leans forward so barely, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch. “J…” you say breathily, not sure what implication you’re aiming for.

He stills and this time you’re sure he’s looking at your lips. He blinks a few times like he’s trying to come back to himself and inches his face away from yours slowly. 

You let the hold in your breath release, disappointed more than anything. He eases off the floor to a stand and holds his hand out to help you up too. You take it with more of a frown than you’d meant to let out and rise to your feet.

“Let’s, uh…” He looks at the ground before taking a step back and putting his hands up again. “Let’s try some combos.”

You blink up at him for a second before raising your hands too.  

Alright, one step at a time.   

vol II

[bisexualiteaa]

actually dying for a cooper howard x vaultie!reader smut where they have some slow burn longing steaminess, but coop thinks she’s too good for him UNTIL she comes in contact with a sex pollen-esque chem and he finally gives in to save her 🥵 please work your magic and elaborate however you want

A Flame in Your Heart

Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)

CW: NSFW like absolutely filthy y’all, you’ve been warned. 💀 unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, p in v, p0rn w/ plot, slow burn, flirting, cursing, perverted thoughts, dub-con (because of chem usage though consent is asked and given!) rough sex, dirty talk, choking, praise kink, degradation, squirting, mention of fingering, FEELINGS!! Slight deviation from TV series, possible grammar/spelling mistakes, cooper starts off mean but slowly warms up to reader

AN: I absolutely LOVED this request! I was up all night writing down all my ideas and spent all this morning perfecting it, and this has to be my longest one yet! I thank you for your patience anon and my lovely readers as I finally post this! Hope you enjoy and that I have done your ask justice! ❤️

Life outside of the vault was difficult to say the least. You felt hunger and dehydration in ways you’d never experienced before, going out of your way to do desperate things you would normally never do in order to get said food and water. The heat was unbearable, every stretch of land you walked across had a danger lurking around every corner, and worst of all, you’d never felt so alone. You weren’t sure what it was about you, maybe it was because you were new to the surface, maybe it was your nearly perfect skin, but everyone seemed to stare or glare at you when you would walk through. It wasn’t until you’d passed through Filly, meeting Ma June that you realized people didn’t take kindly to people like you. “Vaulties” she called them, an audible disdain in her tone, making you look down to remember you were in your blue and gold Vault-Tec suit. “I’ll be going then, have a nice day!” You said skiddishly, offering her a kind smile before turning and exiting the shop. You just wanted to make friends, why was that so hard up here? So when your eyes set on a man clad in classic Wild West cowboy clothes, watching smoke settle after a stand off, you weren’t sure why but you knew that was who you needed on your side in this world. Before you knew it, your feet were already moving and mouth speaking to him, grabbing his attention.

“I ain’t no charity case sweetheart, I don’t take on strays” The ghoul spoke, his southern drawl making him even more memorable than the marred texture of his skin. You looked to the dog that trailed not far behind him as he walked, changing its pace to keep up with the man. “The dog there with you tells me otherwise” you quipped. “Ain’t my dog” he responded harshly as he continued walking. “I can make it worth your while!” You yelled, making him stop in his tracks for a moment, a scary sight at first before you worked up the nerve to come closer once he turned back to you. “And how you suppose you’d do that?” He asked, and at first you didn’t know what to say, the words leaving your mouth before you could really think of a good enough reason. Did nobody like company anymore these days? “Well…I can be your scavenger! Pretty good at collecting stuff” you offered, shaking your bag and making things rattle around inside to prove it, making him give a huff of a chuckle. “‘f I wanted a pack mule I’d‘ve found a brahman” he shot you down. “Okay, then I can be good company to talk to!” You offered. “They make radios for when I want to listen to someone yack” he shut down once again. “I’m a good cook! Even with shitty supplies, I can make a stew that’d put a smile even on the meanest son of a gun’s face” you said, hopeful that he’d at least take you for something, but you had a feeling he’d probably turn you down again. “Iguana on a stick’s just fine” he said, though he had to admit the stew sounded good. Reminded him of home before all this wasteland bullshit. “Oh, umm…” you said awkwardly, your tone growing quiet and my how it put a sad look in your eyes. The evil part of him liked it, seeing your sweet innocent face all downturned but the part that was still human deep down, the part that hardly ever saw the light of day anymore, had half a mind to let you.

“Got a lotta nerve walkin’ up t’ me, girly. If you somehow been lucky enough that you ain’t met dangerous yet, you’re lookin’ at someone who could put you down before you’d even mutter your last words” he threatened, motioning to the double barreled shotgun in his hands. “I know, I saw it first hand. You hold yourself well, I envy that. I’m new to all of this and just really want someone who can help me hold my own the same way” you explained. “Look, I know I don’t look like much but please just give me a chance” you begged, looking up at him with a fighting spirit in your eyes that he had to admit, he was pretty impressed in seeing in a vaultie. “You help me, I help you, however that ends up being” you offered, standing strong on this and damn if he didn’t see a little bit of himself in you at that. He gave a sigh, tilting his head down before shaking it, not believing himself for the words he was about to say. “Alright, but the minute you start draggin’ you’re out, got me?” He said, and he hated the way his cold heart seemed to pump a little faster upon seeing your eyes light up with joy and a smile stretch to your face. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” You said, opening your arms up to hug him but being met with the barrel of his gun poking your stomach to keep space between you. “I don’t do hugs” he spoke gruffly, making you back up enough to where he’d drop the gun back to his side. “R-Right…sorry” you apologized, embarrassment washing over you but still glad to finally have someone in your company. “C’mon, I ain’t got all day now” he said, motioning you to start walking, so you joined him.

Your travels with him certainly weren’t at all what you were expecting them to be. From being used as bait, to being tied up with rope most of the time you’d traveled together, or being sent in as his scavenger, you weren’t prepared for a lot of the reality you faced with being up on the surface. Most nights made you question why you’d ever left the comfort of the vault, why you’d abandoned a trusty food supply, regulated temperatures, a safe place to sleep that wasn’t riddled with radroaches or had the likely hood of waking up to a raider with a knife at your throat for no reason. Then you would remember the experiment in your vault, why you left that awful place for arguably a worse reality on the surface but at least you had freedom. Out here you were free to say what you want, do what you want, consume what you want so long as you could defend yourself incase that supply wasn’t unclaimed. You’d gotten pretty handy with a gun in the most recent weeks. Cooper, you learned one night was his name, using empty glass bottles as targets to help teach you accuracy and how to hit things from a longer range. In exchange, you came a little more useful than he had first thought. You had some useful stuff on you for trade like chems, ammo and food, were a good extra bag to hold stuff in, and you were a better cook than you’d talked about. Sure you had a tendency to talk too much, and you weren’t great with a gun, but you were getting there.

“Might I suggest takin’ them clothes instead of wearin’ that suit?” He said, making you look at him weird for suggesting you strip a dead raider of their clothes. “Why would I do that…?” You asked, genuinely confused and not sure what he was implying either, he was a hard man to predict. “Because, people see that shit and get real mad. People up here don’t like vaulties or the ones that run ‘em” he said and it made sense, it helped you understand why you kept getting evil glares each time someone would look at you or talk to you. You figured he knew best, so you took the shirt and pants from one of the female raiders, tucking them into your bag to change into at a better time. He gave a chuckle watching you do so, apologizing to the dead body profusely as you took their clothes and whatever valuables they had on them for the betterment of your own survival. You were still so naive, part of him was hoping he could slowly start to break and corrupt your way of thinking, but that was a thought for another time.

Before you knew it, night finally began to fall. The sun setting across the horizon gave the air less of a hot, harsh bite as the temperature began to cool rapidly across the sands of the Mojave. All you managed to grab was a pair of beat up, old jeans and a tank top, so as soon as the sun set, the chill set in. As you both set up camp for the night just outside of an abandoned rest stop, you started a fire to cook some of that stew you talked about being good at. He had to admit, it was pretty damn good, likely the best thing he’s had since before the bombs went off. Though even the kindling fire couldn’t manage to chase the chill away, watching you run your hands up and down your arms to try and warm up some by it. He felt a slight pang in his heart, watching you shiver like that, how your eyes lit up by the blaze of the fire and your hair seemed to be tousled just right. You were pretty, too pretty to be trekking this wasteland, and certainly too pretty to be trekking it with him of all people as your company. Even he had a heart still, as cold as it was, so out of kindness he shrugged his duster from his shoulders, draping it around you. You looked at the fabric pooled around you, pulling it over you better before looking to him as he sat down across from you again. “Ain’t no use if the cold gets ya” he said, making you smile appreciatively at him as you realized what he did. “Thank you” you replied, a slight blush fanning to your cheeks as the chattering of your teeth finally died down and you grew warmer. It smelled like him, sure it had splatters of old dried blood and was rather worn, but it had that gunpowder and smoke smell to it that you associated with him. “Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya” he replied, trying to sound cold but it didn’t come off that way, making you chuckle. “What do I owe you?” You asked, making him fall silent for a moment as he pondered the answer to your question. He looked you over for a second before tipping his hat down to cover his face a bit, the signal that he was about to try and get some sleep. “Just keep watch for a bit, I’ll be up in a few hours” he responded, and while it wasn’t what you were expecting, you’d take it.

He was startled awake a couple hours later when he heard a commotion, you yelling at someone telling them to back off that this place had been claimed. The raider you were up against didn’t seem to like that very much, claiming that wasn’t how it worked up here. The altercation took a turn for the worst when the man reached for his gun but you were quick to fire and kill him before he could let out a shot. A shaky feeling set in your hands and a horrified expression across your face at the realization that you just killed someone. Cooper, who was certainly wide awake now, was rather impressed by your quick timing and precision, coming up behind you to lay a gloved hand to your shoulder. “Well would ya look at that, looks like them lessons been payin’ off after all. How’s it feel?” He asked, looking down at you as you stared at the gun in your hands. “He was yelling at me but…he was aiming at you. I don’t really know what came over me, I didn’t like that he was going to shoot you so I just…I killed him” you said, recounting the encounter to him as if he hadn’t seen it himself. He didn’t really know what to think in that moment as you explained how your mind worked, he was proud for sure at your show of improvement with a gun, yet also touched at the same time. No one ever really looked out for him since he started his bounty hunting, he was a well hated man by many but you defended him without really any reason to. You’d just learned his name not but two weeks ago, and before that he was dragging you around with rope yet you still defended him, had you two really gotten closer in the time that’s passed since? He wasn’t sure, but it was something he could mull over while you were sleeping. “Get some rest vaultie, sun’ll be up soon” he said, knowing you likely wouldn’t get much sleep with the adrenaline still coursing through you, but it was at least worth a try, you two had a long day ahead of you.

When you woke up that next morning, things felt a little different between you two. You weren’t some annoying little dog following him anymore, you were an equal. He no longer looked at you and treated you like you were lower than him as you both set out across the wastelands, he had respect for you. Hell, he even started talking with you now when you were out traveling which was almost unbelievable. You learned through those conversations that he used to be an actor in Wild West themed films, explaining his outfit, and that he was married before the bombs dropped. You of course told him bits and pieces about yourself in exchange, after all it only felt fair but it was also nice to just finally talk to someone after all this time.

When night time fell again you two sat enjoying a meal by the fire together, only rather than across from each other, he sat next to you, making a blush come to your face as you’d smiled sweetly at him. “Glad to know I don’t have germs anymore” you said jokingly, making him chuckle. “Give an old man some credit. It ain’t exactly all peaches and marmalade out here darlin’, even cute can be deadly” he said, the nickname and him calling you cute sending a deeper blush to your cheeks despite knowing it’s just how he spoke. Whether it was the lack of contact with other people for so long, or just his charm you couldn’t quite tell, but it always seemed to have an effect on you. “Just teasin’ you, I get it. I’d tie me up and use me for bait too if I’d been doing this as long as you have. It’s a shit hole out here” you said, making him look at you as you dropped the first curse word he’s ever heard from you. “Well I’ll be damned, either I’m a bad influence or you’re finally growin’ outta that naive shell there, vaultie” Cooper replied, making you laugh as you saw a smirk stretch to his thin, marred lips, the first one you’d seen in a while that wasn’t brought on by drugs, chems or that first sip of a good bottle of alcohol. “Probably both” you quipped, making him chuckle. “Yeah, probably. Been told I ain’t easy to stomach” he said, making you hum. “You’re alright in my book, Coop” you replied with a sweet, genuine smile that matched your tone and was that butterflies you felt in your stomach? Did you just call him Coop? No ones called him that in ages, why did it make his heart start to flutter a bit? “You ain’t so bad yourself, vaultie” he responded, still affording you that small smile before turning back to his food. “Keep making food this good and I just might have to keep you around” he joked, making you giggle and break the slightly tense silence. “It’s not much but I certainly try. I’ll definitely make sure to stay good at it, I like traveling with you” you said, unintentionally coming off flirtatious and fuck there it goes again, that feeling in his chest and his stomach like he needed to hit his inhaler but he felt great. What were you doing to him?

“Hey, if it isn’t too much can I ask you a sort of…personal question?” You asked, holding the beat up bowl in your hands as you looked over at him. This was normally the part where he would say no, absolutely not, he wasn’t here to be questioned on his personal matters. Yet, with you, it was different. Ever since last night he hasn’t been so on edge with you, it was like he’d warmed up to you. “Depends on what you’re askin’ there, sweetheart” he said, the nickname once again making you blush. “Do you…miss them? Your wife and daughter?” You asked, not sure if it was a good subject or good question to ask but after finding out, you were genuinely curious. He looked down at his bowl again, thinking of the proper response to your question. The old him would have been defensive, told you it was none of your business, but now? He wasn’t sure. “Ain’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about ‘em. About the way I ran out on ‘em when them bombs dropped” he answered, making you give him a sad look as genuine guilt filled his tone. This was the most honest and open he’s been with you this whole time. “I feel guilty. Not sure if I feel guilty for runnin’ out and leavin’ ‘em behind or guilty for the way I ran out, been tryin’ t’ figure that out for quite a while now and I still ain’t sure” he added, and you sympathized with that. Everyone has regrets, things they’ve done in the past that they aren’t proud of, people up here were no different in that aspect. “Well, in the short time I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve come to understand that everything you do has a valid reason behind it. So even if you feel it was a shitty thing to do, you obviously had a reason for doing so. No one can blame you for trusting your gut, and I don’t think you should blame yourself for doing so” you responded, your hand falling to his as a comforting gesture, your words ringing in his head almost as if you’d opened something in his mind, something he’d never really gave himself to think about before. He looked down at your hand that rested on his, noticing the way you didn’t flinch away from him like others did, the way you were brave enough to walk up to him, talk to him, *trust* him when he made it very clear that you shouldn’t. It was smaller than his, softer for sure, but warm all the same, then he looked up to see that caring look in your eyes and smile on your face that told him that you cared. “Guess you’re right, still wonder sometimes if it was the right choice to make” he replied. “I understand. Everyone has regrets, we all look at the past and hold at least something that we’ve done before in regret, it’s what makes us human” you said, making him give a huff as a chuckle. “You got anybody?” He asked, making you look down as you moved your feet along the dirt. “An ex-husband, but not anyone I really care about, no. My parents passed a few years before the bombings and he and I split up when I caught him cheating on me with some other woman in the vault..” you explained, not sure why it hurt you to tell the tale still, but you felt it was only fair considering what you’d asked of him to share. “Sorry t’ hear that” Cooper said, making you chuckle weakly, a somber look coming to your face that made his heart wrench. “I haven’t exactly been in love since, and considering he and I split up just a little over ten years ago, really says something I guess, huh?” You asked, trying to laugh to bring up the mood, knowing you sounded pathetic. “He was the fool, not you darlin’. He was the one skippin’ out on one hell of a woman” Cooper said, making you look to him and blush a bit as you gave a chuckle at his response.

“Thanks” you replied appreciatively and with a smile before casting your gaze down to see your hands were still connected and it left you blushing harder with embarrassment, you’d been holding his hand this entire time without realizing it. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I have I-“ “relax vaultie” he cut you off, pushing your hand back down onto his to assure you that he was far from uncomfortable. “It’s…rather nice actually” he admitted, making you feel relieved but your heart fluttered in your chest from it. A thick tension soon began to set in between you both after that night, something of an unspoken, kindling romance beginning to develop. “Then there it can stay” you said, making him smile softly at you, tipping his hat at you as a silent thank you.

Months passed on like this, where you’d spend the days scavenging, picking the land for its resources you could find and hunting bounties by day, then spending your nights by a fire growing closer and closer with every passing day. Through your shared meals, jokes, deep conversations, and plenty of near death experiences, you started to notice your fondness of the ghoul you traveled with. The way you’d hang onto his words with that southern accent that seemed to pull at your heart strings, or the way you’d go out of your way to stand between him and a stray bullet. You’d helped him on more than one occasion in getting out of a sticky spot, or getting him the stuff he needed to keep from turning feral. In return, he started to notice he was feeling the same towards you. There was this sudden need to keep you safe, to do nicer things for you, to speak better towards you, even flirt with you at times. Some nights there’d be so much tension in the air, it’s a miracle you haven’t jumped each other yet. Though in his eyes, as much as his heart yearned for you, he knew you were too good for him. You’d been hurt before, and he had a reputation for hurting people, feeling undeserving of even just the sweet smiles and company you afford him even now. You didn’t need someone like him, you needed a good man, someone who didn’t kill for a living, someone who could treat you right, someone who didn’t look the way he did. You were soft and warm, he was rough and cold, though he supposed that’s where the term “opposites attract” came from. So even when he was a whole bottle deep, he was sure to hold his tongue to a certain point.

Some of those nights around the fire were spent sober, others not so much, and this night happened to be one of those nights spent under the influence. You two had stumbled across a mini-mart, doing your best to out run the radstorm that had been trailing you guys for hours, coming in just to find whatever supplies you could to make it through the next week and possibly hunker down for the night. So imagine your surprise when you seemed to have found the largest chem stache you’d both ever laid eyes on. “Coop! Come here, you gotta see this” you said, making him run towards you to make sure you weren’t hurt or in trouble. His nerves were eased once he saw you, fully intact. “Tell me I’m not seeing shit” you said, pointing to all of the supplies sitting in a box on the table, joined by other supplies around it. You both looked at each other in complete and utter disbelief, this would keep you stocked for months, maybe even a whole year if you conserved it well. “Well ain’t that just the prettiest fuckin’ sight” he said. There was no way a horde of chems this large and this valuable was just completely unprotected you reasoned, so you routed around the place, scoping out for any raiders, straggling traders or ferals who happened to still be around. It was as if heaven was shining down on you both as you found no one around, seemed like no one had been here for days. So you did the most logical thing anyone would do in this situation. Stuff each of your bags to the brim of drugs of all varieties! Seeing as you had food, chems and even some clean water and alcohol lying around, Cooper locked and barricaded the door shut, proposing it could be a good spot to sleep for the night. With a radstorm approaching, it was best to have a roof over your heads to keep out the rain and potential radiation sickness that came with it. “This is the closest fuckin’ thing to a slice of heaven I’ve seen in ages” he said, aside from you is what played in his mind but he couldn’t speak that out loud, no matter how much he wanted to. “You said it!” you replied, and it’s even better with you here you thought, but thought it best to keep it to yourself. He plopped down on the couch, kicking his feet up to rest on the small table that seemed to be in shambles, enjoying a tape that was playing on the TV that he was surprised to still see functioning. “Holy shit, this thing still works?” You asked, amazed to see working technology out in the wastelands, sitting next to him as you watched it with him. He gave a smirk at your reaction, thinking it was cute the way your eyes would light up when you got all excited over something. Deep down it made him want to give you everything you laid eyes on like that just to see it pointed towards him. “Guess so” he replied, enjoying your excitement only to see you turn and look his way, which was his signal to stop staring holes into you before he gets caught. “I dunno about you baby doll, but I ain’t about to spend tonight sober with this stache sittin’ here ‘n front of us” he said, making you laugh as he routed through all the different drugs and chems til he found what he was looking for.

In the process of searching through it all, a small metal box fell to the floor at your feet. It looked like a box of mentats only the design was different, instead of the characteristic green and white box was a red one covered with hearts labeled DN-Chem. You supposed the worst that could happen was turn into the man sitting next to you, which you figured wasn’t the worst fate to succumb to all things considered, so you went against all better judgement and said fuck it, popping two of the mentat like chems and chasing it with the vodka he’d found to wait for it to take effect. “The hell is DN?” He asked, looking at the box, wondering what it was you took. “Don’t know, guess we’ll find out here soon because I took two” you said, taking another sip from the bottle of vodka he passed your way, and he gave a chuckle as you handed it back to him. “You come a mighty long way, little lady” he commented before setting the metal pill box down. He took the bottle from you, taking a swig, then placing one of the small viles into his inhaler before taking a hit of it then lying back, breathing a sigh of relief as it and the alcohol entered his system like the perfect remedy to any ailment. As about a half an hour rolled by, you waited for the high to set in but it never came, instead you were just getting hot, like really hot. There weren’t any windows open, and it was night time so you shouldn’t be this uncomfortably hot for how it was but you felt like you were on fire. “Shit, it’s hot as hell in here…” you complained, shaking off your jacket that you’d picked off of some raider a few weeks back, making him look to you curiously. “Lightweight” he quipped, making you chuckle. “Accept I don’t feel anything, I just feel hot” you said, making him hum with intrigue before turning back to the TV. “Give it some time, you’re new to all this. ‘m sure your body is wonderin’ what the hell you just put in it” he said, and he had a good point, maybe it was just a side effect of not doing them so often compared to his every day use.

As time went on, you began to notice the way your eyes couldn’t help but be glued to him, more specifically glued to the way his legs were now spread as he sat back. You wondered to yourself what he looked like beneath all that cowboy get up, what his reaction would be like to see you getting on your knees for him and slotting yourself between his spread legs. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of such inappropriate thoughts, but what you couldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried was the feeling of arousal beginning to pool in your panties. Sure he flirted with you every now and again, but you doubt he felt towards you the same way you did for him. To him you were sure you were likely more akin to a pet than a friend, useful and nice to have around, but not anything further. At least so you thought. You’d rather hoped you were wrong in assuming so, that maybe he saw you the same way you saw him. You bit your lip as you tried bouncing your leg to relieve the ache between your thighs, a light pink dusting your face and neck even up to the tips of your ears, but nothing worked. Even as you closed your eyes, all you could picture was you laid out on the couch beneath him, or bent over it with him behind you, or you riding him on it. “Been awful quiet. You doin’ alright over there, sweetheart?” Cooper asked you, and the audible whimper you let out from the nickname left you completely embarrassed. You clasped a hand over your mouth, god you were horrified but he gave a grin and a chuckle in response. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me all the sudden. I feel so…weird?” you said, unsure if that was really the proper word to explain it but it was the only way you could really word it off the top of your head with how much your brain felt as if it was turning to mush. “Ya took some chems, it’s gonna feel a bit fuzzy” he said, trying to assure you that feeling a little funny was normal, but this? This didn’t feel normal, not even for a chem high. You tried your best to swallow harshly, doing everything you could to try and relieve the dry ache you felt in your throat at the moment upon looking at him. You grabbed the bottle of vodka, taking a few sips but even that couldn’t grant you bliss from it. The throbbing in your core was driving you absolutely insane. You swore up and down that it was like you could feel your heartbeat in your chest, stomach, and in your cunt all at the same time. “No, this is different…I don’t think what I took was a normal chem, Coop…” you said, trying not to panic at the effects that were setting in but god you felt like you were absolutely feral. He turned to look at you, watching as you clamped your thighs together and the red that fell over your face. “I feel like an animal in heat” you said bluntly, making him go into a near coughing fit as you took him off guard. However that piqued his interest enough to pick up the little metal box again to see what it was you took. “I ain’t ever heard of a chem that does that, was that DN shit the only stuff you took?” He asked, growing slightly concerned for you and whether he had a possible horde of laced chems, or just an extremely horny woman on his hands. Speaking of hands, you were lost in thought staring at them, at the way they gripped the couch like you wanted him to grip your thighs, at the way they looked in those leather gloves he always wore. You wondered how it would feel wrapped around your throat, or how it would feel if his fingers were buried deep inside of you. Shit. This was getting out of control.

“Hey, ya with me still?” He asked, snapping to try and get your attention back on the matter at hand, making you shake your head yes as you broke from your perverted thoughts. “Is that DN shit the only thing you took?” He asked again, making you shake your head yes once more, because you knew damn well your voice was going to betray you the moment you tried to speak. That had to be it, it was the only thing that was different out of it all and the only thing he’d never heard of before. He knew it wasn’t the vodka either because he was drinking it with you, so if it was affecting you, it would have affected him and it hadn’t.

It took him a minute to put two and two together before he finally realized the abbreviations stood for Date Night, reading the instructions and effects on the inside of the tin’s lid. “Shit..” he said as he read it, realizing this was a hand made thing thrown into the bunch by whoever was running this place. “Did you read the lid before you popped them pills?” He asked, making you go wide eyed. As if this couldn’t get any fucking worse, this shit show could have been avoided had you just read the inside of the lid. “There was instructions?? Oh my god…what the fuck did I take?” You asked, concerned for yourself and the tone he had while reading it. “Somethin’ that the creator of it called Date Night. Looks like it’s a…well looks like it’s a handmade sex chem” he said, making you cover your face with your hands out of sheer embarrassment, you’d never wanted to die out in a radstorm more than you did right now. “Please tell me you’re fucking joking, cooper…” you whined, watching him read it more. “How much of it did you take?” He asked, almost scared to know and you were scared to know why. “Two?” You replied, making him whistle at that as he read it. “Fuckin’ hell sugar..” he said through a chuckle, and that nickname made a shiver run through you, sending electric bolts straight to your throbbing cunt. You did your best to bite back the whimper. “You’re only s’possed take one, and with you bein’ new t’ all this, I wouldn’t have taken more than half” he said, making you just wish you could just dig a hole and die in it already. “Fuck me…wait, shit! N-Not literally fuck me I- well I mean I’d like if you did but…FUCK! Forgive me Cooper, I’m so sorry, I can hardly think straight” you said, making him chuckle. “Well sweetheart, I think you and I both know there’s only one good fix for this situation” he said, making you whimper pathetically at the thought, your thighs squeezing together even more as you tried to fight to stay sane. Your eyes cast downwards to his lap once more, seeing the tent forming in his pants, clearly you weren’t the only one all worked up here. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to, Coop. I can run off and take care of myself if it makes you uncomfort-“ you rambled but before you could finish, his hand cupped the side of your face, pulling you in for a long awaited kiss. You moaned into it without meaning to, feeling the way your body immediately relaxed upon wrapping your arms around him with no hesitation as the sweet innocent kiss turned passionate and dirty rather quickly.

“I won’t lie t’ you, doin’ this with you has passed my mind more times than I’d care to admit, but I don’t wanna cross that line unless you really want this” he said, looking into your eyes and making sure that this was truly what you wanted, that you felt the same way he did. “Coop, I know I’m under the influence of whatever the fuck this drug is, but trust me when I say, I’d be just as good with it sober. Been thinking about it for probably just as long as you have, if I’m honest with you. I want this, I want you and right now I want you so fucking bad that I might lose my mind if you don’t fuck me” you answered bluntly, taking him by surprise at just the sheer amount of absolute filth that left your otherwise innocent mouth, making him chuckle at your use of curse words and how desperate you were for him. “That so sugar?” He asked with a grin, enjoying teasing you at your neediest moments, including now. “God yes, Cooper please..” you begged, nearly moaning in reply and he’d spent time mulling over it before, denying himself the chance but just as the chem stache was a pot of gold, he took this as one of the best opportunities being placed in his lap by whatever higher power existed out there, making him waste no time in kissing you once more. “Good, because I don’t think I’d be able to hold myself back once we’ve started” he said, and the idea made you moan. “Don’t want you to hold back, want all of you” you said, and your wish was his command.

By the time your brain could finally catch up with you again, your clothes were strewn out all around you, your tank top hanging over the back of the couch, your jeans thrown haphazardly on the arm rest behind you, his pants on the floor, his hat on the table and shirt and duster having fallen somewhere behind the couch. By now, you’d already cum on his fingers twice, and on his cock once, this was your fourth round and this shit still had you on fire. “Yes!! Oh fuck, Cooper!” you moaned as your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him as close to you as you could get, your fingers digging crescent shapes and puffy red lines into his back that unfortunately he knew wouldn’t stay long thanks to his ability to heal stupidly fast. “Doin’ so good for me, baby doll. Look so pretty like this for me, all splayed out like a needy little whore” he praised and degraded through his groans, making you moan and roll your eyes into the back of your head at the praise mixed with degradation as his cock was drilling deep inside you like tonight was all you guys had. “Yeah, you like that, huh sweet thing? Like it when I tell you how good it feels and call you names?” He asked, making you nod your head yes because there wasn’t a single thought in that brain of yours other than his name, which you spoke like a mantra. “Never knew such a sweet lil’ thing like you would be such a dirty little minx. Fuck…enough to make a man like me go feral, ya know that?” he said, making you giggle as you moved his free hand up to your throat, urging him to choke you, and he groaned at the sight. Your kiss swollen lips all puffy and shining with spit, your cheeks dusted a constant pink that grew darker anytime his cock brushed that spot deep inside that made you cling to him, your eyes half lidded, looking up at him like he was your savior. It made him absolutely rock hard knowing you’d pick him over anyone else in this god forsaken wasteland. “My, you are just a little freak, ain’t you? Oh we are gonna have fun together, you and me honey” he promised, squeezing your throat tight enough to restrict your airflow but not enough to hurt or cause any damage. Just enough to get that puddle of a brain of yours all fuzzy as you got closer to your fourth orgasm of the night. “Cooper…’m so close, so close please!!” You begged, feeling the heavy drag of his cock as he pounded into you, leaving you damn near screaming as it nudged your cervix and that spongy little bundle of nerves deep inside. “Go on honey, I gotchya. Let go for me, wanna see those pretty faces and hear those pretty noises you make” he said, angling his hips just right to hit that spot over and over again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck I’m gonna cum again, I-“ you warned before your moans rose in pitch as your walls clamped around him, gushing on his cock as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your body arched off the couch, stars filling your vision for a moment as you felt your release gush out and coat your inner thighs, screaming his name like it was your only chance at salvation. “Well ain’t I just the damn luckiest man in the wastelands right now, got me a pretty little vaultie and she’s a gusher” he said, making you whimper at his teasing but judging by the way he emptied himself inside you for the second time, you took it as a sign that he liked that about you. “Holy shit, I-I didn’t know I could do that” you said, thoroughly shocked with what your brain and body were doing as they almost seemed to almost be working against each other. “Do it again for me” he said, grabbing you and moving you both to where you were straddling him this time. His hands rested on your hips, helping guide you as you speared yourself on his dick with ease from how absolutely soaked you were, making you both throw your head back and moan. “Now that’s a damn good sight” he said, making you lean in to kiss him once more as his hands helped you start and keep a steady rhythm with your hips. It was definitely going to be a long night, but one you two have been needing for months, maybe even longer.

It’s a good thing ghouls have remarkable recovery time, because in order to finally get you sated and back to normal, you both had to spend all night going at it. Granted, it was aided by the mix of pent up sexual tension and pent up sexual frustration, but it was dawn before you both had gotten to a point where you could even *try* and fall sleep. First few times was on the couch between missionary, doggy and you riding him, next was you bent over it, with your pretty legs spread and ass in the air for him. Then, you used the arm rest of the couch as a pillow beneath your hips as he stood up while you laid out on the couch. He liked that one a lot for the way your tits would bounce with each and every forceful thrust into you, jolting your body. After that, it was done standing up with your back pressed against a wall, your legs and arms wrapped around him to keep him deep inside of you and fill you til he had nothing left to give you. From that point on, the rest of the night was all a hormone-hazed blur, but you knew well that he took care of you. You woke up unbelievably sore, your joints aching in places that you had no idea could even ache, a swollen, angry throb between your legs for the harsh, almost punishing treatment to your pussy followed by bruises, bite marks, scratch marks, hand prints etc. littered your skin as you woke up curled into Cooper’s side. You gave a gravelly groan as the sun shone in your eyes through the windows, making him chuckle at the way you were such a ray of sunshine except in the morning. Coming to learn that you absolutely *hated* mornings. Though you suppose you started to enjoy them more since traveling with him. “Mornin’ sunshine” he said coyly, making you groan disapprovingly at the way the sun was in your eyes, making you hold your hand up to cast a shadow on your face and grant you some relief. “Morning” you answered, your voice hoarse and half gone from sleep and all your activities that transpired the previous night. “Ain’t that a pretty sight” he said, turning and seeing you curled up to him, naked, your hair all messy from sleep and the hickeys and bite marks littering your skin, making you chuckle. “Last night was definitely something, can’t believe you’ve been holding all *that* out on me” you joked, making him give a dry laugh. “Could say the same thing about you, sugar. Had no idea that mind a yours could be so filthy. You’re a wild thing to party with, lil’ lady” he teased, sliding his arm around you to keep you close, making you hum as you lay soft, appreciative kisses to his collarbone and chest. “You’re fun too, and thank you for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry that it ended up happening the way that it did, I wanted to work up the courage and tell you some other way, I really did, but I guess life had other plans” you said making him chuckle as he saw you blush when he kissed your head. “Drunk words are sober thoughts they say, so I’d say I made out pretty good. But don’t sweat it, not sure how I deserved someone as good as you, but it’s good to know I ain’t as hard to stomach as most people say” he said, pulling you in for a soft, heartfelt kiss. “I think you are just perfect, Cooper” you said, your hand resting on his scarred chest as you looked at him with that gaze he swore he’d do anything to see pointed his way.

“You really wanna be my girl?” He asked softly, sounding shocked and with some self doubt still lacing his tone, but he had to be sure this was what you wanted outside of the drug’s effects. He cared for you deeply, in a way that he hasn’t felt in a very long time, but maybe you were just the right person for him to finally open his heart up to. His question made you giggle as your heart fluttered in your chest with excitement. “I absolutely do, I meant it when I said it last night, I mean it just as much now. I think we’ve danced around it for long enough, don’t you?” you replied, making him smile the most genuinely happy smile you’ve seen him wear since you’d met. “Just checkin’” he said, before laying a sweet kiss to your lips, wishing every morning could be like this one. Maybe it could, now that you were here with him.

[k-dgn]

The Real Encore

Reader x Yuna Smut Word Count: 7.1k

Following the show, you sat back in your seat in a daze, dumbfounded that you had finally gotten a chance to see your favorite group Itzy live in concert. They were everything you'd hoped they'd be and more. Nothing online could have prepared you for what it would be like finally laying your eyes on them in person. Months of preparation getting right physically paid off in dividends too, as multiple members came by your side of the stage to give you all the fanservice you could have ever wanted. You believed you must have been the luckiest guy in the building as it happened more than once. Each and every member came by to dance specifically for you, and you ate it all up. It was all surreal, and you could not imagine a more perfect night. 

As the audience continued to file out of the arena, you snapped out of your daze and started gathering your things to leave. You were about to leave when a staff member from the show got your attention from across the barricade and called you over. You were a little confused because you thought that maybe you had done something wrong, but that confusion was quickly washed away when they told you that your ticket had won a "special raffle", and that you were selected to come participate in a meet & greet with the group backstage. You were ecstatic, but told to keep your cool as the staff member did not want to draw the attention of the unluckier fans and cause a scene. They guided you around to the side of the stage and took you back through a hallway leading to the backstage area. You were brought to a room where a staff member took your belongings for safe keeping while another gave you some quick paperwork to sign. You were so excited at the prospect of meeting the members that you didn't even read most of it. Once everything was set, you were told to wait for a bit until they would take you to another room to meet the girls.

They sat you down in a long hallway backstage, on a row of foldable chairs seated against a wall. The rumble of JYP and Venue staff rushing through everything, packing up the show and making sure they get done as soon as possible to be able  to head down was dizzying. There were a total of 4 chairs lined up, including yours, but so far you were the only one sitting in one. Staff kept rushing back and forth as 5 minutes of waiting turned to 10 minutes turned to 15 minutes. You wondered if it was going to take much longer, and decided to ask one of the next staff members you saw.

"Excuse me" You addressed them. "When will the special raffle event start? Are there other winners we're still waiting on?" You asked, in your politest voice, but they just looked at you confused.

"Special raffle? What special raffle?" They replied, as if asking what the fuck you were talking about. "Are you allowed to be back here?" They continued, putting you on the spot. You tried to explain that one of the staff members told you to wait here, but you had nothing to show for it.

"They're fine, I told them to wait here!" The staff member from earlier came in just in time to save your skin, with another guy you could only assume to be another concert goer going off of their outfit in tow. The staff member you asked for clarification gave you a suspicious look, but backed off, going back to their urgent tasks.

"Sorry about that." The first staff member said. "Not everyone is made aware of all events. I hope the wait wasn't too unbearable, we still had to find our other winner. But we are ready to start now!" They explained that, considering the nature of the special event raffle, it was sometimes a little harder to get all the winners in the same place. You couldn't help but notice the discrepancy in between the amount of chairs, and the amount of winners, but maybe it just meant some winners already left and lost out on their luck. Or maybe something entirely else you were yet to find out.

The two of you were then ushered further down the hall, ultimately ending at a pair of doors. These rooms were a lot more secluded, a far cry from the chaotic mess that was the staff hurriedly packing up the show back where you were previously. You and your fellow raffle winner both exchanged pleasantries as you awaited for further instructions.

"Here we are. Please wait just one more second while I check to see if they're ready to see you" the staff member explained and then turned around to knock on the door and peek their head in. They asked something in Korean, to which you could hear the female voice responding. Satisfied, the staff member then turned back to the two of you. "Okay! Now sir, if you'd please," they instructed as they opened the door and gestured the other guy to come forward. You were about to follow suit but the staff member raised a hand to stop you in place. "Just him, please. You will be meeting someone else. You made and "O" face and nodded you head. You and the other winner exchanged nervous glances before you raised a fist of encouragement. He reciprocated the gesture then turned back to the door, taking a deep breath and walking in. 

As he rounded the bend, the staff member closed the door behind him, leaving you alone and now more nervous than ever. The staff member gave you a quick smile then headed to the other door, repeating the same actions he had done with the previous room's occupant. He then turned back to you, leaving the door slightly ajar for you to enter.

"Okay, she's ready for you. Please go in when you're ready." he instructed before stepping aside. Your eyes darted between him and the door. He gave you a nod and this time it was your turn to take a moment to collect yourself. You steeled yourself before mustering enough courage to take the step through the door. You walked a bit further into the room, hearing the sound of the door closing behind you. No turning back now, you thought to yourself. As you rounded the corner, you almost froze in place. In the center of the room was a couch facing away from you, and seated right in the middle of it was a girl with bright red hair, looking down at what presumably was her phone. You thought that maybe she hadn't heard you come in because she hadn't turned to greet you, so you decided to try and get her attention. 

"Ahem...Yuna...?"

The girl's head instantly perked up and she whipped her head around to face you. It was almost like a scene from a hair product commercial the way her bright red colored locks flared out before perfectly settling along her exposed shoulders. From what you could see since she was still seated, she was wearing a spaghetti strapped white tank top. She had a huge welcoming smile on her face, complimented by her beautiful eyes which were beaming with excitement. 

"Took you long enough! Come, sit with me!" she called out.

You couldn't help but notice two things when taking in the room. The first was the faint humming of some music playing at a low volume on a speaker, posited on a table in front of the couch. You weren't sure what song it was, but you could tell it was by Blackpink. The other thing was a faint smell, attacking your senses. It wasn't pungent, but if you focused on it, it was present. It wasn't anything like any smell of any perfume you'd ever smelled before. It had no traces of floral scents or any of the like, but instead had this deep sweetness to it. It was intoxicating, and you couldn't help yourself from drifting towards it.

The shock of being in a room alone with Yuna and her addressing you so directly almost caused you to dissociate long enough to get on the nerves of Yuna who just asked you a question. It wasn't your attention to ignore her, you just needed something to focus on and ground yourself with.

"Hello?" Called out again, snapping you out of your drifting gaze. You looked right at her again, and walked around the couch, staring at you the entire time before taking your seat next to her. She was still wearing her pink skirt from the encore, matched with her black boots. All she changed out of was her top.

"Hi!" She spoke to you, very high pitched and seemingly very excited to have your attention. Even after such an exhausting show, her fanservice was out of this world.

"H-Hi..." You mumbled out through your nervousness. You hadn't ever even been close to itzy before this show, let alone win a fancall or anything of the like. Not for lack of trying, mind you. "I'm your biggest fan!" You managed to push, almost as if yelling.

"I'm glad to hear that!" She replied, equally as full of gusto as you did. She didn't skip a beat however, and her smile pierced through your body before she placed her right hand on your left thigh, the one closest to her, before continuing. "What's your name?" She asked, tilting her head to the side, stunning you further.

"Y/N." You answered, the first sentence uttered without stuttering or an added ehm since stepping into the room. "Hmmmm, Y/N huh? That's a pretty name. You know my name too, right?" She asked, dragging her words out in a playful tone, her eyes intently staring at your face as she asked you.

You weren't really sure if this was a trick question. Who would end up going to this concert without knowing her name at least? You shook off your doubts, certain she was just giving you an easy question which she could use to give more fanservice as a response. "Yeah, Yuna..." You answered, tilting your head forwards as you answered her simple question, still unable to really feel comfortable with her hand on your thigh.

The instant her name left your mouth, her face rapidly came closer to yours, she closed her eyes, and planted her lips on yours. You were in complete shock, your eyes jolted open before slowly closing, oozing into the sudden kiss by Yuna. You felt her hand squeeze your thigh a little, before she pulled away, a small string of a mix of your and her spit trailing in between both of yours underlips.

"Hmmm, your lips taste nice when you say my name, Y/N." She divulged, wiping the spit off of her lip, before looking back at you, hungry eyes, studying how you were going to react. She took this chance to reposition herself, tucking her legs underneath her and sitting on her knees facing you. You couldn't help but stare, mute in shock at what was happening. You couldn't help but notice her short skirt wasn't fit to keep herself covered in her current position facing you, and your eyes drifted downwards, but all you could see were the same pink hue of her safety shorts. This action didn't go unnoticed, as Yuna's smile turned into a smirk, busting your perverted action.

She licked her lips, as her eyes grew smaller and focused. "Don't think I didn't see that, Y/N." She berated you in a sultry, teasing tone.

"I'm sorry!" You blurted out, afraid you might have pissed the younger girl off and was about to get thrown out for it.

"No, don't be!" She responded, once more putting her right hand on you, this time on top of your left hand, which was clinging onto your pants above your left thigh. Her touch tensed you up even further, before eventually giving into the feeling of her soft hand touching yours, causing your muscles to relax. You looked at her face, no trace of anger to see, her gaze fixated on you. Your eyes meeting caused her smile to grow wider, which instinctively caused you to smile as well before Yuna continued. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours!" She said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, a cute smile on her perfect face. Your hand tightened up again.

"I'm sorry?!" You exclaimed again, unable to believe you heard what she said correctly. Is this a dream? You weren't even sure anymore, and pinched yourself, but the pain was certainly real.

"Didn't you read the contract you signed? It's a non-disclosure agreement you know. You can't talk about what happens here today, what do you think that means?" She retorted, asking you with her head tilted, and her brows gathered between her eyes, almost as if asking if you were smart enough to read.

"I skimmed it?" You replied, grimacing at admitting your own incompetence. You could see Yuna's face cringe a little bit at your answer, which caused you to further explain yourself. "I was just so excited to be here, I'd sign anything for it!"

"So you're the hot but impulsive type huh? You're lucky I think that's cute." Yuna sighed, her eyes had drifted downwards, introspectively, before taking another look at you, this time, a smile but with the faintest hint of her pitying you mixed in. Her high-pitch and tension picked up once more. "Well? What's it going to be? Wanna show me yours?" She asked. No mistaking it now. Yuna just asked to see your cock, and you couldn't help but grow rock hard just from the thought of it. Your bulge had started to show through your pants, and Yuna noticed, honing in like a predator on its prey.

"Right, yes. Yes! I'll show you." You replied, not really finding the right words, but enough words to convey the essence of your message. You started unbuckling your belt, and slowly taking off of your pants, dropping it to your ankles, leaving your underwear on. Your bulge was clearly standing upright in your pants now, and you looked at Yuna once more to make sure you weren't misunderstanding.

"Aww, don't go teasing me now, Y/N!" She replied to the inquiry made by your eyes. Your confidence surged, and you started pushing your underwear down, the rim of it clinging against the tip of your rock hard dick before snapping off, revealing the full length of your cock. You were clean shaven down there as well, as you in your delusion like almost any concert-goer, had to be prepared for the impossible. You read somewhere that the lack of a bush makes a cock look bigger, and you wanted to look like you were at peak performance.

"Now that looks delicious." She licked her lips once more, her eyes focused on your stiff cock. "You pass this round, I don't like men with small cocks." She giggled to herself, retaining her smile towards you, as if proud of her compliment.

"Mind if I...?" Yuna asked you, without finishing her sentence, but you responded having a pretty good idea of what she was going to ask. "Please do." You responded, strangely more calm then you were at any given point since setting foot inside this room. Yuna's hand glided over to your cock, and her soft hand wrapped around the base of your cock, grasping it lightly. Her hand was barely gripping at all, a soft touch wrapped around you, before she started to twist and turn her hand up and down slightly. You couldn't help but moan at her touch, before she released your cock, taking her hands back to her side.

"So, you want to see mine now? It's only fair, right?" She asked you, her head tilted slightly downwards, causing her eyes to have to look up at you sitting straight across from you. You gulped your spit down and nodded your head yes. "Alright, but I'll sweeten the deal. I'll even let you touch it if you do a couple of things for me first."

You didn't have to think even a millisecond about it before responding. "I'll do it!" You almost screamed. Yuna chuckled out loud from this, causing her to respond in kind. "You really are impulsive! Very well. The first thing I want you to do is this:" She explained, as she turned around, grabbed her phone behind her on the couch, and unlocked it with her finger before turning on the camera app and extending it towards you. You tilted your head, looking a little confused. She giggled at your failure to understand. "I want you to take a picture of me with your dick in my mouth! Lia isn't here, but she loves updates on us having fun!" She explained. Your eyes widened. Of all the things, this was not what you expected. Wow, this girl is a fucking freak, You thought to yourself, but you were definitely not opposed to it. Your hesitation caused Yuna to speak up again.

"You already said you'd do it, no backing it out now!" She exclaimed, and as if that alone wasn't enough to snap you out of your gaze, she launched herself forward, taking the tip of your dick in her mouth, and looking towards your face, holding her head still there and her eyes clearly smiling. You tilted your head backwards, facing the ceiling, getting lost in the sensations she was bombarding you with, before Yuna pinched your thigh hard, making you aware of your part of the transaction. Her eyes had turned into a scowl towards you. You snapped back, took her phone, pointed it at her face, to which her visage once more bore a big eye-central smile, posing for the camera. You clicked the photo button a couple of times, before Yuna released your cock from her mouth with a big pop.

"Let's see!" She giddily said, as she took her phone back which you gladly extended back to her. "These will do! Thank you, Y/N." she continued.

"You're welcome." You meekly responded, undeniably a little sad your cock was no longer placed in between her lips. "You said there were a couple of things. What else do you need from me?" You inquired, showing you didn't forget and were not impulsive and stupid, just impulsive.

"I haven't been able to shower today, and I don't want to leave you alone like this right now." She replied, looking at you with giant doe eyes, her lip pouting. 

"Okay?" You asked back, not really sure what she was getting at. She smirked at you, then lifted both her hands above her head, exposing her cleanly shaved armpits to you.

"Can't you please clean me up, Y/N?" She asked of you, an irresistible charm in her pleading voice. She wasn't saying it outright, but you believe you knew what she wanted. Or rather even if you were wrong, if she wasn't going to be clear you were going to take your chance to do what you wanted to do.

You brought your head closer to her, inching towards her armpit, as one question from earlier started forming an answer. This deep, slightly sweet smell you found earlier was coming from Yuna. Now inching closer to her, she seemed to still be glistening a bit from fresh sweat still on her. The smell was intoxicating, and you looked at her face before continuing any further, and she had a big smile on her face, urging you to go on.

You extended your tongue outward, touching her armpit, causing her to stifle a small moan, before licking up her sweat. You had never done this before, but you were hooked. The taste was sweet, slightly salty, and her skin tasted refined. One lick turned into two, turned into 4, turned into 10, before moving onto her other armpit, licking that one equally clean as the other, motivating Yuna's moans, until you were certain you hadn't missed a single spot.

"Thank you, Y/N, I feel a lot better now." She admired your willingness. You licked your lips, your eyes now fiercely intent on hers, before you made your first unprompted comment of the night.

"You are fucking delicious, Yuna." You told her, admiring her taste, letting her know you probably enjoyed what you just did more than her. She blushed a little from this, before snapping out of it, and regaining her bubbly, refined aura.

"Well, a deal is a deal!" She giggled at you, her head at 45 degrees, her eyes closed in two half moons and her mouth a big smile. She started pushing off her skirt, attached to her safety shorts, revealing another shocking truth about her. She was wearing no underwear, and she now sat on her knees across from you, legs slightly pushed open as if to lure you in, her clean shaven pussy exposed for you to see.

Your cock throbbed, the sight of such a perfect and pink pussy begging to be devoured by you was almost too much to bear. Your cock grew just that tiny bit more, pulsing, looking ready to burst.

"Oh, you were holding out on me? No fair, Y/N!" Yuna exclaimed, posing one hand over her mouth and using the other to playfully tap you on your shoulder with her other hand.

"I can't help it! Seeing such a delicious pussy, anyone would want to dive right in." You fired back, finding yourself in this erotic groove, growing in confidence. Yuna giggled in response to your admiration. She looked back at you, her eyes ready to devour you, before speaking up again.

"I haven't..." she said, in a soft, whispering voice, having that high-pitched pleading cadence to it. Her eyes started looking down at her own knees, avoiding your eyes. Her knees started to part more ever so slightly, exposing more of her privates. "Been able to clean her either." She finished her sentence before looking back up at you with her head tilted downwards, almost as if begging for you. "Could you please clean me up here as well, Y/N?" She requested of you, her cute charm overwhelming all your senses. She bit her lip at you, sending you over the edge.

You smirked, one corner of your lips arching upwards, before getting up from the couch. You stood in front of her, your cock pointing towards her at her chest level, and before you even had the chance to lower yourself towards her, the girl had leaned forwards, her tongue licking the tip of your dick. Her tongue curled upwards and inwards into her mouth. She proceeded to look up at you, opening her mouth wide and sticking her tongue out with a loud "aaaaaah", showing the strings of pre-cum she had licked up which had been dripping out of your cock because of her provocations.

"You'll have to be clean too for what we do next, Y/N!" She exclaimed proudly, gulping down your liquid while you grew a devious smile. Yuna give your dick a quick peck before telling you "You can continue now, Y/N." You quickly got lost in the thought of grabbing her hair in two pigtails and fucking her face,  but you knew better than to throw away your chances at whatever could happen next here for such a risky play. You lowered yourself onto your knees, placing your hands underneath both of her thighs, and lifting the girl's underside up as to get both her legs off of the couch, and hanging off the edge, as to position yourself in between them. You pulled them apart, giving yourself a clear view of her entrance, causing her to coo at your assertiveness, and pushing her own hips forward for you.

You brought your face ever closer to her pussy, inching towards her. She was wet down there, but not drenched. You picked up another spark of her scent, the same tinge of sweetness but mixed in with a more organic, earthy smell. It was even more intoxicating than the smell of her sweat. You opened your mouth, close to her labia and breathed out onto her, your warm breath causing her to shudder in anticipation. You still felt the sensation of her kiss on your dick, and decided to return the favor. You purse your lips, planting a kiss over top of her clit. Yuna's soft vocalization of a satisfied "hmmmm" let you know you were on the right track, starting slow, and warming up over time.

You stopped the kiss, looked up at Yuna's face, who was staring back at you intensely, her eyes pleading for you to continue. No more words needed to be said, and smirked, reaching your tongue out, flicking it upwards over her clit. Yuna's legs twitched, her eyes jolted shut and her knees buckled around your head, tightening her thighs around your skull. You flicked your tongue again, and now having warmed Yuna up were mostly just rewarded with moans. You picked up your pace, and swapped your flicks from horizontal, to vertical, to letters. Her hands found her way to your hair, and grasped firmly around strands she managed to find, holding on tight to you. 

Yuna's breathing had grown labored, but she still managed to push some words out. "Don't you DARE... fucking stop...!" She moaned out, and you didn't dare defy her command. Your hands grasped her thighs where they could, squeezing tight, as you unleash your final assault. You pursed but your lips around her clit, sucking on it, getting it into your mouth and nibbling on it ever so softly with your teeth. This mixture of pleasure and pain seemed to send Yuna over the edge, as her back arched away from the couch, and her feet lifted up from the floor, her moans rising in pitch as you felt her entire body convulse.

You'd forgotten to breathe for the final part of that, and pulled your head back, gasping for big breaths of air. Yuna slowly opened her eyes, un-arching her back and leaning forwards. Her both hands cupped both sides of your face, squishing your cheeks as she leaned ever closer, licking her lips on her way to you. She kissed you another time on your lips, her lips firmly pressed against yours, before you felt her tongue entering your mouth. You pressed your tongue slightly against hers, wrapping around hers, coiling and twisting in wet ecstasy. Yuna pulled away from the kiss, and stared down at you with a big smile, but her eyes turned totally vixen.

"Hmmm, your lips taste nice when you've made me cum, Y/N." Yuna spoke seductively. You couldn't help but be overwhelmed with desire for this night to never end.

"Your lips taste nice when you're cumming, Yuna." You retorted, turning her own script on her. She giggled, before regaining her posture. She held out both her hands palm upwards, inviting your hands onto hers. You followed her guidance and placed your hands in hers, and she took firm grasp helping you stand up. She crossed her legs in front of you, denying further access to her. She pointed over to a chair with a bag sitting on it.

"Could you go and grab a condom from there, please?" She requested of you. Your mind raced. She hadn't needed a condom before when touching your dick with her hand or mouth. This had to meant you two were going to fuck, right?  Your excitement causes you to do as told without any questioning, turning your back on her and moving towards the bag. It was filled with Yuna's personal items, but you didn't take long to find a condom. You pulled one out, turning around to move towards Yuna again. This time, she surprised you once more, having removed her top, sitting on the couch waiting for you fully nude, her legs crossed and arms spread, leaning on the head of the couch beside her, exposing her pink nipples for you to admire.

Your mouth fell agape, admiring her every curve, curves that had been the subject of tons of speculation they were fake. If you had your phone with you know, you'd have saved the evidence they were all wrong in a heartbeat. You failed to comment anything on her appearance, being dumbfounded by her beauty, which caused her to raise one eyebrow at you, prodding you for a response. Your lack of vocal response causes Yuna to stand upright, her legs crossing over each other, causing her hips to sway, as she walks over towards you. Both her hands reach for your hips as she gets closer, grasping the edges of your shirt, the last piece of clothing you were wearing, and giving it a soft pull upwards. You got the hint, and lifted your arms up, allowing Yuna to take your shirt off, throwing it to the side.

"So what, you're not going to tell me how pretty I am?" Yuna teased you, shaking her head from side to side.  You snapped back to reality, and quickly thought of the best thing to say to remedy this situation.

"You have to be one of the most beautiful women to roam this earth." You spouted out in a panic, causing Yuna to have to hold back her laugh in response to your compliment. Yuna looked at you, and you weren't sure if it was lovingly or pitifully, but it was only for you, and that's all you seemed to care about.

"That's certainly a unique compliment. Calm down, babe. You're doing great, I'm not going to just randomly kick you out." Yuna reassured you, taking the condom out of your hands, placing her teeth on the edge of a corner of the wrapping, tearing it off, pulling it out and figuring out which way was inside out. You couldn't help but have your entire being flutter from her calling you babe, and her reassurance did wonders for you to relax.

"Thank you. You won't regret picking me." You responded, your eyes meeting hers filled with conviction, showing Yuna her words had worked. She smirked at your newfound confidence, handed you the condom, gave you a smile and posed you with a question. "So, how do you want to fuck me?" You accepted the condom, started wrapping it over your dick and gave some thought to her question.

"Hmmmm." You consciously vocalized out loud, making sure Yuna knew you were considering your options, and were not just too stunned to speak. You looked around the room, and couldn't help but focus your attention on the giant make-up mirror against the wall of the room, drawing your attention before being gifted with an idea. In one smooth motion, you picked Yuna up, carrying her bridal style over towards the make-up mirror. Your sudden heroics caused the unexpecting girl to yelp out in surprise, shocked at the sudden shift or impact her words had seemed to have in unlocking your boldness. She quickly held on tight however, enjoying your display of strength.

You planted your right arm firmly under her knees, freeing your hand and using it to toss the chair in front of the mirror to the side, freeing up all of the space in front of it. Yuna licked her lips at the performance you were putting on, and as soon as you put her down facing you in front of the mirror, she decided that this time it was her turn to hold you tight instead of you holding her tight. Her hand had found her way over to your cock, wrapping tightly around it, slowly stroking it back and forth while looking you into your eyes. Her head nodded in the same rhythm as her hand stroked you, causing your breathing to become louder. You weren't about to stop this momentum with a light handjob, and put your both hands on her shoulders, turning her around to face the mirror.

"I'm going to show you just how pretty you look when I'm fucking your brains out, babygirl." You shot back, taking the initiative on the teasing. Yuna's eyes were big, surprised from you spinning her around, and you could see them clearly in the reflection of the mirror. Upon hearing your provocation, she smirked back at you, as if to challenge you. Her eyes were clearly expecting great things from you, but her mouth made it even clearer, asking you to "make me fucking scream." She places her arms onto the counter of the makeup table in front of the mirror, stabilizing herself, arching her back for you as if she knew what to expect.

Your hands planted themselves firmly onto her wide hips, grasping her tightly with your fingers digging into her skin. You pulled her ass a little closer to you, causing her to arch her back further towards you, to which she playfully accepted and wiggled her hips at you, as if to invite you in. You placed your gift-wrapped cock against her mound, sliding it slowly up and down her entrance. You were teasing her, waiting for her to grow impatient for your moment to strike. Her smirk eventually turned into a frown, waiting for you to put yourself inside of her.

"Stop teasing me, Y/N. Start fu-" she had started to say, intending to finish her sentence with "cking me!". Unfortunately for her, you felt like the perfect time to strike would be right as she started saying fuck, causing her voice to grow louder, and scream out further with "UUUUUUUUUUUUUCK". You slammed your hips against her ass with full force, jamming the entire length and girth of your cock into her petite, drenched with anticipation, pristine pussy. Her eyes rolled back into her head, feeling the warmth of your cock pulse inside of her, and you weren't about to let up. Her moans were varying in pitch, her breathing unable to keep up with her voice, as you pulled your cock back until only the tip remained, instantly slamming back into her wet cunt.

"Ugh, ungghh nghhh, FUCK." Yuna kept moaning, unable to lower her voice, and you began to wonder whether or not she'd be heard outside of this room. She was beginning to hunch forward, unable to support herself through your rough slamming of her thin body, so you decided to take a chance and lend her a hand. You moved your left hand from her hips over to her stomach, pulling it closer to you, and your right hand all the way up, around her neck. You put some light pressure on the sides of her neck, before gripping her towards you, and into your body. You placed your head right next to hers, pulling her upwards to you, her arms now too far away from the make-up table to reach, causing her eyes to open, looking surprised at what was happening. She looked into your eyes through the mirror, and you whispered into her ears.

"I promised you I would show you how pretty you looked, so look. I want you to see the goddess that I see when I'm fucking you." you growled in a low, whispering voice, commanding her to follow your lead. She purred, biting her underlip and nodding slowly at you, looking straight ahead as you released the tension on your elbow, continuing to hold your hand around her neck but supporting her arch as you resumed your pounding. You enjoyed the feeling of control you had over her body in this position, but you couldn't help but feel that a slight shift could give you even more access to her weak spots. Her arms were dangling behind her, grabbing onto whatever part of you she could hold on to, but you had better usage in mind for them. You moved your left hand from her stomach onto her left wrist, grabbing it firmly, and once holding tight, did the same with your right. You had stopped pounding for these few seconds to properly get everything in place, causing the girl to look at you through the mirror and ask you "What's wrong? Why did you stop, babe?"

Her calling you babe again ignited something deep inside of you, and you addressed her concern. "I'm going to start really fucking you now." You touted, like a stone-cold killer wanting to intimidate their target. Her eyes panicked, darting to meet yours.

"What do you mean, really fucking me? Hey, wait, what do you-" She tried to ask of you, her arms now bent back behind her as you pulled on them, before you cut her off, slamming your cock so hard inside of her she stumble forwards, her hips getting pressed against the high make-up table, forcing her to lower her stomach onto it, which pulled back into a beautiful curved arch. The tension you forced upon her pushed all the air out of her lungs as she heaved and moaned out of pleasure, still looking at your and her reflection in the mirror. Her mouth was wide open, her tongue clearly showing, as the tip of her eyebrows pushed together into her forehead. She was trying to say something but having trouble pushing it out.

"Cu-... Cum! Fuck, cumming!" She yelled as loud as she could, and you felt her tight walls gripping your cock, making moving harder. Her hips moved upwards, as she was now standing on her toes, her legs trembling through your relentless siege of her womb, but you gave her no reprieve. You kept pounding, even picking up the pace when you felt her cum, like a man possessed by her sex-fueled body. You kept increasing the tension on her arms, pulling her back further and further.

"Nghhh, you're gonna... fucking... break my back! FUCK, ngghhh, don't! Don't stop OHHH" She moaned, her voice cracking as she begged you to continue. You hadn't cum yet, and you had no intention of stopping before you did. You were getting close and Yuna felt it. She used whatever force she had left in her body to push her hips into yours, grinding your cock up and down while you pounded deeper and deeper.

"Fuck, Yuna, I'm gonna cum for you!" You grunted out, moaning behind her, feeling your climax near. Her eyes elated, a slight smile formed, instantly pounded away into submission by your cock, before Yuna started pleading with you.

"Cum for me! Cum deep inside me please! PLEASE please please please-" She begged, a submissive little slut begging for your seed, which was just enough to send you over the edge. You didn't want to cum without her however, and decided to make one last play before reaching the finish line. You leaned forwards, playing on the knowledge you had gotten from what she liked earlier this evening, opening your mouth and protruding your tongue, licking her spine from as far down to the base you could move upwards. She started twitching upon feeling your spit on her back, soon followed by her legs twitching and her pussy tightening. If this wasn't enough to tell you your gamble was a success, her screaming "Yes!" sure was. Your cock pulsed, shooting load after load into the condom inside of her, her walls vibrating rhythmically, as you took in this sensation, almost unable to keep yourself standing during.

After you came, you pulled out of her and took a few steps back. Yuna was now standing on her toes, her entire upper body laying on the make-up table, and her head had turned to face you, but her eyes were momentarily closed. You took in the sight of the half-passed out, fucked silly girl, before dropping back into the couch, taking a seat and a much needed breather.

Yuna had heard you falling down onto the couch, causing her to open her eyes and look towards you. She picked herself up with whatever strength she had, stumbling towards you and falling down onto the couch next to you. She was laying on her stomach, her ass up, red from you crashing into her.

She tilted her head upwards and looked at you, satisfied with your performance and proud of herself for picking you out. Her feet were up in the air, kicking like a giddy schoolgirl, before forming a circle with her left thumb and index finger wrapping around the part of the condom dividing your tip and your cum. She squeezed tight, cutting off any flow, then pulled the condom off of your dick carefully so as not to leak a single drop of cum. She tied a knot at the bottom of the condom to make sure its contents were safe. You looked on as she did this, while her eyes focused on your groin, impressed with the fact that she still had any energy left.

"A souvenir to remind me of you." She murmured, loud enough for you to hear, before grabbing a Ziploc bag and pen that had been lying on the table all evening long, placing your condom inside and writing your name in it and zipping it closed.

"Thank you." You spoke up to her, still unable to believe any of this happened. "This was a once in a lifetime experience for me." You continued, grateful to have been given this chance. Yuna looked back up at you, her head ever so slightly tilted sideways, puzzled at your remark.

"Are you coming to any of our other shows?" She asked you in response, suddenly changing the topic.

"Ehm, actually, I'm coming to see you at your show in two days as well." You replied back ever so confused. You thought she must have felt burdened by your remark and just wanted to get this over with while still being polite.

She smirked the same devious smile you gave her when you pounded the life out of her, and in less than a second had thrown her entire mouth over your cock, her tongue wrapping around your shaft from tip to base, sucking and slurping hard, licking every inch before releasing you with a pop.

"You'll have to be clean for that show too." She taunted you, her voice daring, playful and bubbly all at the same time. "And I wouldn't be so sure about that ‘once in a lifetime’ part." She smiled seductively, her eyes wide open staring deep into your soul. "Your dick tastes nice after you've made me cum, after all."

[caramelkoo]

be still my heart — jjk [one]

the one in which you get a sex dream about the grouchy hockey player you work for.

genre : childhood best friends to frenemies to lovers, physical therapist!reader x hockey player!jungkook, slow burn, smut, fluff, angst

word count : 5.2k

chapter warnings : strong language, mature, slight smut (because im a tease), reader’s name is Destiny, jungkook is a bit grumpy towards her (she makes him nervous leave my boy alone), fat shaming (not by any of the main characters), oc had daddy issues, mentions of allergy. that’s about it, please let me know if i missed something.

a/n : here it isssssss drumrolls please because im so excited for this. jungkook as a hockey player??? *deep breaths* enjoy my lovely people. you’re so so loved. asks, reblogs and likes are much appreciated. kisses <3

read part two here

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“Babe, you know you're not going to win right? Don't be wasting your breath.” Bella challenges.

You’re sitting on the chair in your office going through the personnel file of the players. Verifying their names with their contact numbers and photographs which, you’re not going to lie, look like mugshots. Jeez, does smiling a little bit cost them? Anyways, once you’re done you close the file and look up at your assistant bickering with her boyfriend. Phone pressed against her ear. 

You mime hanging up the call and she lifts her index finger, indicating for you to wait. She throws in words like hmmm, yeah, you don’t know what you’re saying, yeah i love you too. Once she’s done, she drops the phone on the glass table in front of you and leans back in her chair. 

“He thinks I will let him get away with anything just because I love him”  

You chuckle, “What’s going on?” 

“You know, I’ve been wanting a cat for so long I even made a pinterest board for that. Last Sunday he surprised me with one and when I told him that I lowkey manifested it, he was not having it. I even showed him the mood board and I NEVER show it to anyone. Evil eye is real.” she all but cries out. 

That’s Bella for you. Highly spiritual and a firm believer of the universe. She claims that everything happens for a reason. She’s like a little ball of sunshine. Ever since you joined the Ice Dominators’ hockey team as a physical therapist, she’s been assisting you and you couldn’t be more thankful seeing the lack of female workers here. Seriously, there's no other female worker here except yourself and Bella which is so diabolical to you.

And it’s not like the men on the hockey team are a bunch of misogynist jerks. On the contrary, they act like they’ve known you for years. It didn't take you long to feel like home here. They are obedient, friendly and pretty nice. Few of them are married with kids while the rest of them remain single. They’re not like a bunch of teenagers, they know what they’re doing.

Except one, what’s his name? Jeon Jungkook. You would describe that man as crude and closed off to a pathological degree. You still remember when you asked him to come to your office so you can look at any possible previous injuries, he lied to your fucking face. Claiming he doesn’t have any when you could clearly see him hobbling sometimes just a tiny bit when he walked away. Years and years of dedication towards your studies have made you capable enough to catch that it is an old injury.

Despite your better judgment, you blamed it on the fact that his team lost the game that day. Poor guy was having a bad day and took it out on you. Big deal. 

“Earth to Destiny” Bella waves a hand close to your face and you shake your head as you look at her.

“Leave the poor man alone” You plead and then ask, “Any details about the new player? I’ll have to add it in the file” 

“Not yet, as far as I know they’re still contemplating the guy named Park Jimin or something”

That gets you real quick. Park Jimin. The name feels like acid on your tongue .The last game being unsatisfactorily resulted in the federation trading one of the players. It was cruel but was done for the better. Bound to happen sooner or later. You had expected it but what you had not expected was you both sharing a same room, sharing the same air.

“Alright then. We’ll cross that bridge when it’s—”

Knock, knock

“Miss Kim, sorry to interrupt but the manager is asking for you” Taehyung’s head pokes through the door.

You stand, picking up the file and sliding it into the tableside drawer, running a free hand over your scrubs. Bella does the same as she plucks her phone from the table and puts it inside her back pocket.

You look at him. “Sure Tae, thank you for informing”

He flashes you a quick, pretty smile before leaving. Bella turns to you with a worried look on her face.

“What do you think it is for?”

You bite your lip. “I have no idea. I wanna say it's about the new player but who knows?”

You hope it is and as unfortunate as it is for you to discuss him, you will have to hold your own. You know better than to be invited into the manager’s office. Though, judging by the temperament of him you would not predict anything. Last time when he called you, it was about Jeon Jerk, asking you to be more serious about your job as if it was your fault the man spared you the necessary details.

The asshole asked YOU to do your job better by virtue of HIS player not being sweet enough to listen. Maybe, there is indeed a misogynistic asshole going around and it’s the manager. No wonder women don’t volunteer to work for him.

Since, You love your job —god knows you wanna keep doing it— you kept quiet and took every jab he threw at you.

“Wait, Do I have time to pray? Should I pray?” she’s clearly panicking and you pat her on the shoulder.

“Just hope my job is still intact” you say, warily reaching for your purse. You both head out.

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“Miss Kim, have a seat” James nods at the chair before him.

Once you’re settled, he continues, “I asked for you to join me here regarding the upcoming game. Care to fill in about the status of injury assessment?"

You clear your throat, “Absolutely, I was planning on getting on that today” 

“Well, I would love for you to do it soon as you know we have a new player in the team with us now”

You jerk, leaning forward. “We do?”

“Yes, and if you can please hurry with the assessment I would be grateful. You can do that right? Not too much of a work for you, eh?” 

Someone give him a medal from the way he's trying to hide the venom in his voice.

“Sure I can” you give him a firm nod. 

James Adams is an entitled, self centered asshole who thinks he’s above everyone else just because of his position. You reckon he does anything for the team besides talking bullshit. He kind of reminds you of your dad who also has the nasty habit of thinking the world of himself.

You’re all about self love but when that self love turns into chronically demeaning everybody in their close proximity, it boils your blood. This man in front of you is no better than your father. What's that saying? Out of the frying pan into the fire.

So you say nothing further and excuse yourself. You would have barfed in his face if you stayed there a second longer. Actually that's not a very bad idea. Bella is standing outside waiting for you as you close the door behind yourself.

“What did he say?” 

You bark, “Bunch of horseshit” 

“Typical” 

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Jungkook 

There is a buzzing noise somewhere around Jungkook. Fuck, his head hurts. He frantically searches for his phone, still not opening his eyes. When he finds it, he slides his thumb on the screen and picks up the call. 

“Dude, how big do you want your coffin to be?” He loves his best friend but right now he would rather be sleeping than listen to him bark in his own ear. 

He finally squints his eyes open, “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“Have you looked at the time?” says Taehyung.

“What time- FUCK!!!” he shrieks as he looks at the clock.

Somebody kill him right now. No wait, he’s gonna die either way so why bother. If he didn’t scream loud enough before, he does now. He all but jumps off the bed when he sees the blondie on the other side sleeping like she fucking owns it, wearing nothing but a thong. She must have heard him malfunctioning because soon she stirs, groaning as she slowly wakes up like a Disney princess. Who the heck is she and how did she get in here? Then it comes to him.

“Please Jungkook just take me to your room and fuck me. Show me what those hockey hands are capable of.” 

He wants to swallow a fistful of iron nails. Speaking straight from his shoulders, he has made plenty of bad decisions throughout his career and this is not his first time bringing a puck bunny up to his room but it has never come to this. Missing his hockey practice because he was too exhausted to get his sweet ass up and run to the academy. 

Taehyung screams from the other side of the line, “Are you there? Hello?” 

Shit, he forgot he was on a call. 

“I’ll be there soon. Cover for me until then.” With that he presses the red circular button and ends the call with him muttering some curses.

He glances back at the blondie, “Why are you not gone yet?” 

She’s looking at him with those fuck me eyes she had last night but right now when he’s well aware of the fact that he’s in hot water, they don’t do shit to him. Coach will have his head on a platter today for sure. Honestly, they wouldn’t have done shit to him if it was not for the great deal of alcohol last night.

“I thought of you as a morning sex person” she twirls a strand of hair with her finger, sitting up now. Her tits hang free and he can see his hickeys decorating her chest.

He wants to laugh. She’s not even close to his type. His type is the woman in blue scrubs with her brunette hair slicked back in a ponytail. His type is the woman who looks like she could be watching grass grow rather than to look at him. His type is the woman who walks into a room and lights it up. His type is the woman who is too bright for him and his mundane personality, who has a face worth millions. His type is Kim Destiny. 

“No need to waste your precious time thinking about me. You can go” 

He places his phone back on the table and saunters over to the bathroom, not bothering looking back at her. He has boundaries and he intends to keep it that way.

He quickly goes through his routine of taking a shower, making a cup of coffee, sliding into a pair of sweatpants and the Ice Dominator’s jersey with his name on the back. Not in that order, of course.

The girl is thankfully gone by the time he finishes. Once he’s done with his coffee he picks up the car keys and a protein bar from the kitchen counter and heads to the academy hoping his limbs remain intact by the time he’s home.

The Academy is bustling as usual with players keeping themselves busy with hockey and their gym sessions. He heads straight for the rink not even bothering to change into the uniform. He needs to see for himself that everybody is still on the ice. Everything comes after that.

Surprisingly, he sees not a single guy when he reaches there. His heartbeat stops.

“Hey Pixie, where are the boys? Did they already leave?” he asks the brunette kid who looks like he just saw a ghost. Or it’s just Jungkook who he saw.

He shakes his head, “They’re all in the gym. The doc called them earlier, said she had something important to get done with them” 

Jungkook gives him a quick thanks and walks towards the gym. What could be so important that she had to call the boys mid practice? Is someone hurt? Is she hurt? His heart leaps in hid throat as he runs. Fuck, please let him be wrong.

The first thing that he sees as he enters the room full of equipment are his teammates. Taehyung and Yoongi are in the corner lifting weights, Namjoon is using the treadmill as he runs on it. The rest of the boys are all scattered around doing their own thing. He still can��t find Destiny anywhere but her assistant, Bella, is talking to Namjoon while holding a file so he lets out a sigh, relieved that nobody is in fact hurt and in need of help. 

“Do you wanna get a tattoo on the peni— oh look who’s here. Jeon Jungkook as I live and breathe.”

Taehyung drops the weight on the ground before walking up to him. He’s dressed in a black tee and sports shorts. The man looks good in everything. Bet he’d look in a sack too. 

“Whoa!! Why do you look like you wanna kill somebody or wanna get killed? Is everything okay?” 

Jungkook lets his face relax, focusing more on the eyebrows which had gone tensed due to his unnecessary anxiety. “Yeah, all’s good. The practice ended early?” 

“The practice ended just on time. It’s you who’s late” he pats my shoulder. 

He runs his fingers through his hair and walks towards the bench, dropping his bag on it. Taehyung follows him ignoring Yoongi who’s calling him back for the weightlifting. 

“Doc wanted to assess our injuries for the last time before our game if you’re curious which, I know you are. You’re always curious about her” 

He winks at Jungkook and he punches him on the chest. Taehyung laughs as he rubs the spot.

“Keep your voice down, will you?” 

Bella’s voice echoes across the room, “Jeon, you’re up next” 

He takes out his water bottle, takes a swig and stands. A wince leaves him as he gets a flashback of the last time he had to face her. It didn’t go very well and he’s sure she hates him now. He would too. After all, he not only talked to her rudely but also lied through his teeth about his injury. It’s pretty old so he had not felt the need to mention it. 

He sees a guy coming out of the office just before he’s about to enter. He has brown hair long enough to reach the nape of his neck. Even from where Jungkook’s standing, he can say the man doesn’t reach above his shoulders. Who the fuck is he? Oh wait, he must be the new player that got traded down here. The guy must have sensed him making a hole through his head by the way he’s staring because he’s begins walking towards him with a bright grin.

“Hey man, you must be Jeon Jungkook? Heard a lot about you. I’m Park Jimin” He holds out his hand, asking Jungkook to shake it and he gives it a firm handshake. Word to the wise : never give someone a weak handshake. His grandfather has been asking him to do that ever since he was 15, said it doesn’t leave a strong impression and he’s be lying if he says he was wrong.

He offers Jimin a nod, “Nice to meet you. Excited to get on the rink with you.” 

He takes his hand back. “Oh the feeling is mutual but—”

“Jungkook, please join me inside” 

Destiny’s voice cuts him off as she looks over to both of them with an eerie expression on her face. Her eyes bounce between them, resting a second longer on Jimin. Does she know him? Do they have a history? Wait, are they a thing? Even if they are, why does it bother him? Jungkook couldn’t care less about the pretty physical therapist who wears her blue scrubs like armor and white crocs with strawberries on them.

He gives Jimin another nod and follows her into the office. Although, he’s not sure if a massage table and a stool resting beside it counts as an office. The room which she works in is much better. This one is just for examinations and massage therapy so he guesses it doesn’t need that much of an upgrade.

She gestures towards the table, “Please sit”

He says nothing and settles himself up, clearing his throat.

“Look I know we got off on the wrong foot last time and it could have gone so much better, but we can still start over right?”

Destiny takes a deep breath, filling her chest with air. She’s wearing her hair in a bun today. It sits at the top of her head and some strands are set loose cascading down her face. God, she’s pretty.

He looks down and back up at her. “Sure”

Her face shows her annoyance with the one word response. He doesn't blame her. He'd be pissed too.

She’s quiet for a moment, “Why don’t you tell me about your knee injury to start with?”

“What are you talking about?”

She sighs, “You know what I’m talking about Jungkook. Please don’t make me work for it. It’s my job to know about your past and present injuries, if any. The manager has already given me crap about it”

He freezes. His hackles rising and his relaxed face long gone.

“What did he say?”

“Nothing”

He levels her with a stern face, “What.did.he.say?”

She’s not obligated to answer him. Hell, she could just slap him in the face and leave but he needs to know what went down with that son of a bitch. When and if she decides to let him in the details and it turns out something wicked, he’s gonna hunt that man down and make his life miserable.

Much to his surprise, she takes a step back and starts talking. "He called me in his office today and," she halts,

"Well let's just say there were some words thrown around which clearly meant he thinks of me as a feather brained bitch"

He might look unbothered from outside but the indignation inside him could just about burn the whole city down. He tries to keep calm and pries some more.

His jaw clenches. "What else?"

Destiny shakes her head, shuffling on her feet. “Jungkook it’s really not that seriou—”

“It is serious. You work for us, you tolerate our asses and in return if we fail to give you the respect which, you deserve by the way cause it’s the bare minimum, we might as well save everyone’s time and money by giving all of this up.”

“Why do you care?” she shakes her head.

He takes a step forward, “Because you— Because you work for us, Destiny. You look out for our bodies, our injuries, our fuckups. Is that not enough?”

She barely reaches his shoulders. It’s cute how she has to crane her neck up in order to look him in the eye. She keeps looking at him for a long minute, searching his face.

“You think I don’t know that? Do you really think I don’t have what it takes to ask for my own dignity?”

He takes a long step back. This conversation was as unforeseen as they come. The room gets filled with heavy silence and he can hear Destiny’s heavy breath. He can tell she’s trying to calm herself as if his words have blindsided her.

Needless to say she’s a tad bit taken aback. Jungkook would be too if someone who never bothered to speak a word to him and when he did, there was nothing pleasant about his tone suddenly started to care.

But that’s where she’s wrong, nothing about his care or concern for her is sudden. He still remembers the day she accidentally drank the almond smoothie Bella brought not knowing the fact that she’s allergic to it. She’d started choking the second it went down her throat. He also remembers how Yoongi injected the epipen against her thigh as she came back to life.

Meanwhile, he stood behind shaking in his goddamn boots. Too scared to let her out of his sight and too pathetic to hold her close. Yeah, he’s not proud of that.

He sighs, “You know that’s not what I meant—”

Namjoon walks inside with a hand towel around his neck “Doc, you about done? The boys are being incorrigible over there. If you don’t hurry, one of them is gonna call a tattoo artist and get their dick tattooed. Right here”

The room falls silent.

“Jesus” she looks over to where the guys are bickering about something, propping her hands on her hips. “Yeah, give me a minute.”

“Sure” and with that he walks away.

She picks up a blue file from the stool, not looking at him. Why is she not looking at him?

“If you don’t want to tell me about your injury right now, that’s fine. Since, I know it’s pretty old and It’s unlikely that you’re gonna get affected by it in the upcoming games, there’s no need to worry. However, I would still suggest you be careful. Anything can happen out there and your knee is in a vulnerable position. Don’t pick unnecessary fights, don’t let the opponent know your weak link.”

She glances at him, dropping the file back to where it was.

“You can go”

Without a preamble, he heads outside, passing Taehyung. He hears him cracking a joke about penis tattoos and piercings with his girlfriend’s name on it. Destiny cracks up and Jungkook wonders if she would have done the same, had he been the one cracking the joke. Only, he doesn’t crack jokes. Not around her at least. It’s not like he's some grumpy bastard who wants nothing to do with anybody around him and thinks of him as omniscient.

There’s just something about Destiny which puts him at loss of words. Knotting his tongue it in such a way where he can’t get an expression out. Only look at her and god, does he look at her. He's not stupid. He knows it’s a crush but she’s like a mirage to him. She’s unreachable, forbidden and so fucking beautiful.

Does he want to make her his? Yes, Is he going to risk his career and hers over it? Absolutely not. So, he makes use of the only right nobody can take away from him. Not even her. Admire her from afar. Fantasize more about tasting her, licking her slender neck and worshipping the ground that she walks on and one day if she lets him, Jungkook will do anything to turn all of that into reality.

He finds Yoongi seated on of the benches, scrolling on his phone.

Facing him, Jungkook speaks in a low voice. "Do you have any idea where James is?"

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Destiny

Never have you ever wanted to run away as much as you did when you saw Jimin in front of yourself, standing all tall and proud. You had wished it to be a dream, wished you just had a nightmare about him joining the same team you happen to work with but reality is a goddamn bitch and it bites hard when it does. He had grown out his hair longer but he still has the same smile, same eyes and the same charm he used on you back then. Park Jimin is a man people don’t ever forget once they see him. He has an aura which traps everyone so hard they can never escape. How do you know? You have been a victim yourself.

You meticulously go through the consequences and eventualities of being in the same room as him again. You seeing him everyday and him reminding you of every single detail you have tried so hard forgetting about, the boys finding out about you both and putting you through the wringer or worse, him. The possibilities are endless and you feel the sudden urge to square everything with him.

Contrary to what you had thought, he reacted pretty normally when he saw you as if somebody had already told him about you. You had expected him to get shocked or at the very least pretend to be shocked.

Having said that, he just gave you a single nod as if you're someone he passes by every morning at the park. Are you this forgettable? Are you someone people just brush aside like that? Your father’s words echo in your ears like loud drums,

“You know, nobody will love you if you keep looking like this. Eat less”

“Girl, do you ever stop eating? Every time I see you, you're stuffing something in that mouth of yours!!”

“Don’t come running back at me when no guy gives a shit about you”

You were 10 and he was an asshole. He still is.

Thanks to him, you now have a tendency to cook when you're stressed over anything. It brings you comfort and diverts your mind from the excessive overthinking. You would go bald if it puts the voices into silent mode.

After already wasting half of your life speculating what to eat, counting calories and whatnot, you came to the terms that you can’t actually operate that way and began eating whatever the fuck you wanted. Yet still, you need to go a long way in order to fully love yourself and your body. It's a journey and you're moving ahead step by step. One day at a time.

One would even say you're hot. You have received compliments from several people over the course of time except you don’t have a thigh gap, your arms jiggle and you also happen to have a love handle. You would have adored them if it wasn’t for your dad making you feel shitty about having them.

A knock on your door stops you midway as you're kneading the dough. Biscuit runs over to you, jumping on the counter.

“Coming”

The knock comes back again, this time slightly louder.

“Oh my god wait I’m coming”

The door swings open and you gasp. “Mina?”

She passes by you, dragging her suitcase along with her.

“Hey bestie”

You close the door and follow her further into the hall. “What’s going on? What’s with the suitcase?”

Your best friend’s sudden arrival must have caught you by slight surprise but your cat is rather pleased to see her. Traitor. She starts clawing at her feet excitedly.

“What a good girl you are? Yes, you are” Mina coos at her and then glances up at you from where she has biscuit nestled in her lap,

“I need a place to live for a few days because my shitty boss kept rejecting all my articles and I really wanna bring her something worth the front page. Apparently, writing about the famous coffee shop around the corner and their secret ingredient being maple syrup wasn’t good enough.”

You round the counter and continue kneading the dough for your strawberry pie. It’s not unlikely for Mina to show up unannounced. In fact, she has done that plenty of times but the suitcase was never involved. This one is new.

“So you decided to barge in here without even asking?” You tease.

She flashes you a dramatic look. “Look at us, Destiny. Aren’t we the same girls who giggled about living together after college? With matching slippers and movie marathons?”

“Okay okay you dramatic bitch. How long are you here for?”

Biscuit runs to do her business and she gets up, setting her suitcase to the side.

She sighs, “Not sure. As long as it takes me to come up with a new topic to write about–HEY— why don’t I just write on the hockey team you work with? What are they called? Ice…ice”

“Ice Dominators” you fill in for her.

She slaps her thigh. “That’s the one”

You shrug, “I mean you can, but you’ll have to call in on the coach first. He operates everything inside and outside the team”

Coach Ian is too nice to turn her request down. He’s one of the most genuine people in the federation. Maybe this is why the team is so strong and united. He respects every single boy and receives it tenfold. It's a mutual thing.

“Shit, How come I didn’t think about that” she bites her lip, her enthusiasm replaced by nervousness.

“Don’t worry. He won’t make you work for it. Ian is as nice as they come” you assure.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out. As you watch, she opens your fridge, taking out the box of frozen blueberries and pops one into her mouth.

“Do you want me to give you a hand?” she mumbles while chewing.

You point towards the bathroom, “Go and take a shower, right now. You stinky”

You duck the blueberry she throws your way, laughing as you do. Giving your cheek one last kiss, she excuses herself.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Warm hands roam over your thigh, squeezing them. You muffle your moan with your palm and take every thrust. 

“Yeah, you like that? You like how I’m pounding into this ass right now?” 

You gasp. 

“Such a good girl” he praises.

The man behind you presses a kiss to your naked shoulder as he rasps in your ears, “Were you walking around all day dripping for me?” 

He pulls his cock out and thrusts again. You meet him with equal passion and hunger. 

“Tell me” 

You nod. 

“I need your words, Destiny” 

You cry out, “Yes Oh god, Yes. I wanted you in me so bad” 

He cups your pussy and rubs your clit with his palm until you're rolling your eyes to the back of your head and squirming. Thrust after thrust he brings you to your sweet release while talking dirty things in your ear. You're about to melt into a puddle of goo. He’s got you totally at his mercy. 

“So beautiful like this. Taking my cock so well huh?” 

“Ahh it feels so good, right there. Just right there, don’t stop” 

He bites down your shoulder, “Come for me and let everyone outside hear the name you’re screaming, you dirty whore” 

Your heartbeat picks up as you squeeze him with the tight ring of muscle, orgasm crashing over. 

“FUCK. Oh my god Jungkook!!”

Your eyes fling open and you sit up so fast your head starts spinning. Everything around you is pitch black. Wait, where am you? 

Mina is at your side in an instant, “Destiny, are you okay babe?”

You look around and release a sigh of relief. You run your fingers through your hair, ruffling them. 

“Yeah um… I’m fine. It was just a bad dream. Go back to sleep.” 

Except it wasn’t. It was one hell of a dream where you were getting fucked into oblivion by your player. You're not even going to lie and say that you didn’t like it. C’mon you're a woman of needs, it’s just that, him fulfilling those needs was not on the cards for you even if it wasn't real.

You check the time on your phone and wince at the bright light flashing up at you. It’s 2:45 am and you just had a back breaking sex dream about a man who you want nothing to do with. Who, as beautiful as he is, annoys the hell out of you with those one word replies and grumpy face. An edgy feeling threatens to rise.

Oh god it’s going to be awkward now. It’s only normal to walk on eggshells around someone people have these sort of dreams about. You have read your fair share of books where the female character gets a sex dream about a man and then they don’t talk to each other for the rest of their lives. Okay, that's a bit of a stretch but it might as well not be.

Yeah, you admit you guys don’t talk to each other a lot as it is, or are longtime best friends tiptoeing around their feelings, but you're afraid you're gonna have to ignore him forever for the sake of your own sanity. 

I’m so fucked. You think.

tags - @httpjeonlicious @lovingkoalaface @rpwprpwprpwprw