#x was able to get them in with some equipment

[starvales]

take me where my soul can run

s. ishigami x gn!reader

synopsis: short scenarios, in different point of views, of the kingdom of science questioning just who are you to senku.

content: dr stone spoilers, set before ryusui, sfw, fluff, smidge of angst, small skinship, childhood friends, ambiguous relationship, gender neutral reader, y/n is not used, improper use of school lab equipment.

a/n: if you can figure out what song the title is from the you get 10 billion points >:) in my mind for this fic, reader is sort of specialised in linguistics, i.e languages, theatre, poetry, basically a certified yap master 💀💀

wc: 2k

“I don’t have a sliver of doubt that you’re with Senku right now. After all, what are you two without each other, amiright?”

The Ishigami village goes oddly quiet, another companion before the stone world, perhaps? Senku had mentioned Taiju and Yuzuriha in passing quite a few times, but on the other hand, what made you so different that the founder had said your name specifically?

While the descendants ruminate in their own wonder and curiosity, there’s a heavy ache thumping against Senku’s chest, despite the laughter coming from his father.

Sorrow and grief line his veins, loneliness pumps his heart, and the burden of humanity rests upon his brittle shoulders.

(“To be drowning in loneliness despite being surrounded by others is quite the unfortunate fate, no?” You were sat atop a table, swinging your feet while watching Senku mix some chemicals that you’ve forgotten the names of. “I can’t imagine you being able to function without my ever so benevolent company.”)

As if that wasn’t enough, just to top all of it off, he has yet to find your petrified body.

Trust him when he says that he’s tried and tried, tirelessly in fact, in between the breaks he gave himself during the first months of post-petrification solitude and the rare moments away from the Ishigami village.

As lack of luck would have it, you were just nowhere to be found.

(Senku hands you a beaker, a quiet gesture to drink whatever’s in it, and you take a sip without hesitation. While onlookers that aren’t from the science club would assume he handed you an unknown concoction to drink, it’s just tea that he brewed with his equipment. You claim that he makes it best.)

With how much you occupy his mind, he can hear your voice going into a spiel about nothing but nonsense of the current situation that somehow turns poetic.

Byakuya says your name again with a chuckle. “Keep him on his toes, okay? Wouldn’t want a wild Senku roaming around the world without you!”

(“Heh, I would relish in the peace and quiet if it means i’m away from you.” He says while adding more sugar to your beaker with a lab spatula with careful precision and mixes it for you.)

Senku does not believe in wishing, but just this once, he hopes that when this war is over, that he’ll be able to let you listen to Byakuya’s last message and laugh at the old man with you again.

Just where are you hiding?

(You smile knowingly, as if you could read his mind. “To borrow a phrase from someone I know quite well, you would ten billion percent miss me.”)

“When we win this war, Taiju and I have a surprise to show you, Senku! A very belated Birthday present.”

Before the aforementioned scientist could protest, probably to say he doesn’t need or want a gift, Taiju cuts in.

“Senku! We found them!!”

There’s your name again, Gen thinks while he takes a side glance at Senku, whose grip on the microphone shifts into one with more attentiveness, more interest.

The atmosphere around Senku feels different, too.

Not suffocating or cold, but not necessarily warm, either. More odd, if anything. Relieved? Skeptical, curious. Anticipation?

Senku is stationary and silent. Definitely thinking.

“Taiju, it’s not a surprise anymore if we tell him what it is…”

“Ah, I just got so excited! Sorry, Senku! But i’m sure you’re excited to see them now, I bet you miss them a ton!!”

Ever since that record of Byakuya, Senku has been offhandedly mentioning you every so often in conversation. Even entertaining questions about you from the village, though only when he isn’t busy with, y’know, war prep against the Empire, and if they’ve caught him in a sharing mood.

It’s as if he finally deems it safe to reveal your existence to this new world; an environment and community that would not harm you.

Defensive. Cautious.

A relative?

Definitely not. Senku has mentioned being an only child and only having Byakuya.

A friend?

While it’s closer to the mark, it’s also not quite there at the same time.

Gen can see that Taiju and Yuzuriha mean a lot to Senku, but they don’t implore the same type of look or tone of voice that Senku presents when you’re mentioned.

You’re close to Senku, but seemingly much closer than just a long-time childhood companion.

Perhaps… a lover?

…

No, Senku isn’t one to indulge himself in customs as flimsy or as pitiful as love. The scientist even said so himself, multiple times: love is illogical, a waste of time, or plain simply, not even a millimetre interested in it.

Another thing about Senku is that he isn’t one to go back on his word unless it benefits his goals, and Gen can’t see any benefit from lying about love of all things.

“Oi, what’s got you looking so constipated, Mentalist?”

“Nothing in particular, Dearest Senku~”

Then that begs the question, just who are you?

“What does ‘muse’ mean when you use it to describe Senku? I’m not too sure what the word itself means either, but it sounds too intimate of a nickname for two people that claim not to be lovers.”

(A few from the Kingdom of Science had accompanied Senku, Yuzuriha, and Taiju in locating your statue, curious as to what you looked like. And just a few moments ago, they had found, dressed, and poured the revival fluid on you, standing back as the phenomenon of breaking out of the stone begins.

“Well, if it isn’t my dearest muse! How have you been faring these past few centuries?” There’s a twinkle in your eyes that nobody that didn’t know you has quite seen before, it’s almost enchanting, as if you were unconsciously beckoning people to pay attention to you.

Before anybody could hear their resident scientist’s response, Taiju and Yuzuriha unexpectedly pushes the group away from the reunion.

“Hey, what gives! I wanna hear what Senku has to say so I can make fun of him later!” Ginro doesn’t back down without a fight, but with Taiju’s sheer willpower, it was like watching a baby try to push down a brick wall.

“Ahaha, it’s best to leave those two alone for now.” Yuzuriha gently beckons Suika and Kohaku towards the camp. She looks back for a moment, but doesn’t stop walking. “They will come back with Senku to introduce themselves soon enough, trust me when I say they’ll make quite the entrance.”

The group may be far from the clearing from where you are with Senku, but with her eyesight, Kohaku can see an embrace of two people.

With your back turned towards her, she can see Senku’s grip on your clothing, holding tightly, trembling.

She decides to keep this to herself, for now.)

Kohaku is blunt in asking you the question that’s been itching her brain for a few weeks now.

You were revived only around a month ago, and have already contributed plenty to the Kingdom of Science, especially with the morale of the labourers: performing quick theatre skits, or maybe occasional performance acts with Gen to help manipulate encourage the workers to do their job faster.

Kohaku also decides that if Senku isn’t going to address whatever is between the two of you, she’ll surely get the answers out of you!

“Hm, the best way I can explain is to just look at him.”

She feels her brow twitch. Kohaku guesses that you’re a dead end too and groans into her hands.

You chuckle but do not look up from your work on the blueprints infront of you.

Kohaku glances at the scientist, not far from your personal work bench - he’s giggling to himself while tinkering with who knows what - and raises a brow, typical Senku behaviour at work there.

“What about him?” She asks, unimpressed.

“Isn’t he the most interesting thing you’ve ever laid eyes on?” From Kohaku’s angle, she notices a soft smile and an adoring glimmer in your irises.

Interesting is one word to put it, Kohaku thinks and doesn’t comment further.

But she also thinks she understands just the tiniest bit more than before; you and Senku are both those kinds of people that just know rather than say.

On the other hand, the child that adorns a watermelon head sat to the right of you, unknowing of the underlining meaning of your words, is oblivious and lost.

“But Senku’s just in his element at the moment, building new gadgets and inventions Suika has never ever seen before, so he looks like regular old Senku to me!“

“Exactly.”

You put your pencil down, roll up the finished blueprint, and hand it to Kohaku to give to Senku.

Seeing Suika’s eyes swirl in confusion through her lenses, you offer her a small apology and a head pat. She hands you another large sheet of paper for the next room plan.

Suika feels like there’s now even more questions than answers.

“Sorry, Suika. Despite my rather expansive vocabulary, and ability to wax on about nonsense for hours on end, I don’t think I could simplify the reason more than that.”

And it’s true, what you say.

Because then you would be forced to start off by telling her about the old world, dull and monotone, filled with unambitious nobodies that were afraid of originality and the trueness of their own character.

You would have to reveal to her the circumstances in which you first met the light that now guides you, the colour that paints your vision, and the muse to your art, Ishigami Senku.

Even after that, how do you begin explaining to a child, born into a world as primitive as this one, the complexities of something that’s been non-verbally established centuries ago, something that was instinctual rather than described.

She simply would not understand, no matter how prettily you dress your words.

Perhaps you’ll tell her when she’s grown older, a tale for another day, when she’s lived her own experiences rather than learning about yours.

For now, you will close the script that writes your story. Who doesn’t like a bit of mystery?

[ Extra - Opening Act ]

“Hmm, a unique but befitting opening line to introduce a new supporting character into a seemingly already ragtag cast…”

“Ragtag?!” Gen exclaims.

“Ragtag…” Ukyo sighs, exceedingly exasperated.

“Ragtag?” Suika questions, not hearing the word before.

Senku chuckles beside you and crosses his arms. “I suggest you let them finish, or else they’ll make it everyone else’s problem later if their flare of inspiration is cut short.”

You continue on as if you didn’t hear them, chin pinched between your thumb and the knuckle of your pointer finger.

“How about…”

You hum and mumble for a few more seconds before your eyes light up with mirth. Right hand to your heart, your left arm is outstretched to your front, palm up, a gesture similar to that as if you were reaching for something.

“After centuries confined within a prison of the mind, not a soul to keep them company bar their own, thou hast finally freed thyself! One’s solitude gnawed at thy skin and mystery shrouded thy thoughts. No more are the shackles that bind them yap yap yap yap…”

To Gen, all of your words blend together as he loses even more sense as to what kind of person you are. What he does know is that you’re exactly like Senku in a way, it’s endearing, almost.

“I see we’ve revived yet another eccentric…” Gen whispers to the archer next to him. Ukyo can only laugh sparingly.

When the mentalist turns back to you, you’re wrapping up your rather flamboyant display. “Onwards, the travesty we call life shall commence once again, so get excited!”

[marythebitchasscanary]

Total multishipper here but my primary is sonadow. Just gonna throw my hat into the ring.

So I have this theory. Sonamy reminded me a lot of the whole Naruto x Sakura anti debacle pre/early shippuden and other than pink girl I think it’s this.

1.) Girl is portrayed in a specific and at the time what was considered an empowering way while maintaining girlhood. 2000s wise.

Some of the innate problem with that is that it’s written by grown adults who are basing things off of tropes born in the 80-90s but maintain some status quo.

When an adult is writing kids for kids they tend toward silly and not taking kid’s emotions fully seriously. Such as love and crushes. Which leads into 2.

2.) Kids will look to the coolest representation of themselves and take what those characters say and do seriously, even if the adult writing it didn’t.

This I think is partly why the emo goth characters get a bombardment of love but that’s neither here nor there.

When you’re attached to a character early on it becomes The Best character and you want them to come out on top. You want their goals and dreams realized, nothing wrong with that, but blinders lead to clashes with other’s favorites. And younger fans, especially kids, will have the “my dad can beat up your dad” mentality with their favorites.

3.) In the case of Sonic, the first favorites (the starter pokemon if you will) are typically Sonic, Amy, and Shadow. These groups having such a range of ages will expose the newbies to fandom space to things they were not prepared for and ill equipped to deal with.

How do you deal with conflicting characterizations? What are ship wars? How does character criticism and character critique differ from character bashing?

While I love a good bash fic, there is a difference between using a stereotypical archtype for fun plot reasons and juat pumping villain(ess) evilness into a character you don’t enjoy. New fans, but specifically new to fandom fans will see abundance of content and not be able to navigate.

Sonic itself is a fandom that is many people’s first fandom. So it’s almost a testing ground for understanding how things work. Good and bad.

4.) Unfortunately for Amy, she gets the newest fans for shipping. Default heteroromance, as close to canon as a ship can get without committing, and a long standing base. The caveat is that because she and sonic are “baseline” romance and the wave of younger (but no longer new) fans to branch out to OCs or few steps removed canon self inserts realize their personas can date. In trying to create distance and reason for Amy not to date Sonic, the trope of obsessive girl or mean girl is used. Base girl is almost always ending up labeled as juvenile and cringey, reason one and two kinda feed into that.

Young fans who haven’t really learned kind internet etiquette then attack in the way they think is right.

Ideally they’ll grow out of it and learn not to engage but some just get stuck.

5.) Internalized misogyny. Pick me mindset wrecks young fans, they want an independence and coolness that the writers denied their reflection. It’s a whole other rant but it’s also self explanatory.

Some of this can be explained by the guys in the fandom, the whole “Amy is annoying” crap. Does not help anything

6.) Characterization division. Between crap translation and purposeful changing of intention and word use, the characters of Sonic have the disadvantage of inconsistency and weird stereotypes. Amy suffered some flattening from what I can tell, right as she was getting characterized. Her purpose was flat before but it kinda nipped her arc in the bud especially for english audiences.

It created a nasty rift. Really with all the characters but it seems to have hurt Amy the most.

Really what it comes down to though is people not being able to separate themselves from the bad habit of “my way or no way” and expecting there to be a singular path to enjoy in fandom. Fandom is for exploration, and canon isn’t the law. We need to be better 🙂‍↕️

Sonamy gets so much hate on Tumblr and I'm tired of pretending it's not

By few bad apples, specially on tiktok and Instagram all the community has to suffer from it

I can see how many fans who have Sonic x oc hate sonamy and Amy with a passion that have dedicated tags for "anti Amy" "Anti SonAmy" and make up it's comments by saying "I'm an Amy fan too" "I just care too much for characterization"

But majority of these users misunderstood Amy, fix their narrative to fits with their opinions, and you know for what? To make fun of fans who like the character and ship

I've seen how majority of sonelise fans also hate us, how majority of sonadow fans hate us, how majority of sonaze fans hate us, majority of sonally fans hate us. almost all Sonic's ships hate us.

Many say we sonamy fans "exaggerate" the bullying and just shows the lack of enpathy

Not all sonamy shippers are toxic people just like not all Sonic shippers are toxic

By few we have to suffer. Go to any tik tok about Sonamy and you would almost find a sonadow fan making fun of it.

I've seen how majority of users who dislike sonamy of had beef with them have say they like when sonamy fans get bullied or get "what they deserve" (not in a good way) of in general when the community gets as the punching bag they get happy.

Many have asked to get respected when their ship gest disrespected but the moment it's a ship you hate then that changes it🧐

Users complain that the Sonic ships sides is toxic but majority are not helping with it in anything. Many think that keeping with the cycle of hate will get things better but it keeps them WORSE

I've seen how many shippers hate us by "misunderstood" Amy or how we disgust them for hypocrecy but they are not the best people to say it when many users have spreed hate when people don't Get their pov's. Get mad when sonamy fans call out then or say something like "hey I don't agree with it" "UHH those sonamy fans are hypocrite and annoying Am I right?" :/

If you hate sonamy and Amy so much. Let it go. Better focus on what you like in Sonic. Better grow to keep your ship community to be healthy and strong 'cause the more You spend your time hating on something it can affects your health and how you interact with people inside and outside internet.

And you would say, why you keep talking about this? BECAUSE THEY TAG SONAMY AND AMY SO WE CAN SEE HOW MUCH THEY HATE THE SHIP AND THE CHARACTER 😅

I couldn't care for my non-ships as sonelise, sonadow, sonaze and sonally. You won't almost NEVER see me there 'cause I don't like tonsoend time on things i don't like for the sake of my mental healthy.

I've met beautiful and toxic fans of all these ships. I won't get all my energy in making fun of them or writing pretentious analysis about what's wrong with them

I will have fun in the sonamy tag and they can have fun with their ships

I don't vibe with those ship and considering them as anti or even hate them is wasting my time

Why would I want a Tag of my Anti ship being part of My Tumblr. Waste of time

I'm not defending toxic sonamy fans I defending fans who want to have a good time on the tag, who don't bother other fans. Fans who try to make better community

Cause Sonic shippers love to pointing us to resolve all problems but this is a work in community not individual.

We need to be better

[angeart]

“The hunters find them before the hermits do.

[—TBC—]”

You can’t just do that, that’s pure evil. My mind is just running through all of the possibilities that could happen now-

A big one is how if the hermits were terrified about Scar going vex-mode before, how would they react to coming across him in the middle of a fight? Just all claws and teeth and no coherency.

Probably Cub especially since Scar is only exerting himself more and Cub’s fully aware of what that means.

I really wonder what would happen if the hermits find them in the middle of a fight because they haven’t had the experience of being in a life or death fight. Sure they know how to fight, but a fight in this situation?

Plus them all being hybrids and coming across hunters in general… oh boy

hehe. i can and i did <3

(in my defense, ribbon anon told me to post it as TBC even though i warned there will be a cliffhanger) (yes i'm here distributing blame lol)

me and link wanted exactly what you're saying here: for the rescue gang to see grian and scar in action in this ruthless world. nobody else back home will be able to fathom it, but these witnesses will have a sliver of understanding of what this world did to these two. :3c

cub's absolutely freaked out by scar's vex form and loss of control. it's scary! imagine how tragic it'd be if scar would push too far and lose himself to vex magic completely. now. now, right in front of the rescue team's eyes. so close to being taken home. everything just. gone. (and top it off with a chance of grian dying too and you have a beautiful tragedy in the making.)

this all just circles back to how this day should be good—great, even!—but it feels so sickeningly precarious anyway. fragile, like it's splintering into pieces. everything was supposed to be okay and instead it's in a desperate, dooming landslide.

[kirozai]

—HSR YANDERES AS TROPES.

Forced Proximity? Soulmates..? Amenesia! Common tropes that always end up happy! Your favorite characters love you so so much! But.. is it in the way you want?...

content warnings: yandere, toxic love, unreliable narrator, descriptions of gore, unrealistic relationships, unwanted PDA, depressive elements, suggestive, gn!reader (maybe ideas for makeup but most of the part is gn) pairing(s): sunday x reader, blade x reader, aventurine x reader, jing yuan x reader word count: around 350-500 each, 2100+ words in all A/N: I got a tiny bit carried away

Aventurine - Amnesia

WHAT’S PLAYING: engravings - Ethan Bortnick

Your eyes are blinded by the casino lights. The sound of chips being thrown and cards being shuffled fills your ears. Things feel so familiar, but at the same time, completely foreign. You turn your eyes to your lover. At least you think he’s your lover.

Two weeks ago you woke up in the dead of night on a hospital bed feeling numb from your head to the tips of your toes. The hospital lights were blinding making you feel dreary. You slowly regained movement by wiggling your fingertips and finally being able to sit up on the comfortable bed. As you gazed around the room you felt shocked to see gold engravings on the trim of the walls. It’s obvious it was a hospital, but it felt too expensive.

And you? You felt out of place.

A nurse walked into your room with a pan of what seemed like a new IV bag and other things like syringes and such. She turned wide-eyed and gasped as she suddenly dropped the pan of expensive medical equipment. You couldn’t make out what she said as she mouthed something out loud. The drowsiness hit you and you passed out.

The next time you woke up to a man sitting beside your bed in the most luxurious clothes you ever laid eyes on. He looked worried, very worried. Realizing you woke up once again his Avgin eyes-

Wait Avgin?...

“Sweetheart! You’ve been out for months. How are you feeling? Is there any pain? How… Can…?” He spoke quickly but after the first couple of sentences, his words faded into mush.

He called you sweetheart though, you deduced he was someone close to you. Someone that must have cared for you. 

But then why do you feel-

Cutting your thoughts you paused. Thinking was causing you too much pain and headache at the moment. You tried to recall what happened. 

And at that moment you realize you couldn’t even recall who you were.

After some time of recovery, you were able to get a couple of things down. The handsome man’s name was Aventurine. He is your lover. (?) You two have been together for quite some time now. You were diagnosed with severe amnesia, but your lover was kind enough to explain everything to you. Although, he was still hesitant to explain what happened to you and the reason why you were in the hospital.

You tried to get something out of the many doctors and nurses, but they seemed… scared.

Aventurine never left your side when other people were around. It was either you and him or no one at all. Leaving you lost and not being able to truly be clear about your condition. Everything went through Aventurine. 

One day during your walk around the large hospital, Aventurine got a call. He looked at it and furrowed his eyebrows, smiled at you, said it was an urgent call, apologized, and left for a brief moment. 

You dragged your IV stand a couple of steps more and abruptly stopped in your tracks as you overheard a pair of nurses talk about… you?

“IPC… they… lies… Aventurine… hiding.” Those were the only few words you were able to make out.

It no longer mattered though because Aventurine’s bright smile found you again and you walked back to your room first. If only you could see the piercing glare that he sent to the nurses. He wouldn’t know what to do if you heard about the fates of them after spreading lies to your pretty head.

After the recovery, you settled in enough to “your life”. Now you sit next to your lover whose luck shines more vibrant than a newborn baby’s laughter. You feel content for the most part.

I wonder if you would still feel content if you were able to take a good look past Aventurine’s perfect poker face. While you sleep he watches you worriedly, wondering if you’ll remember one day. Remember that this perfect love story he crafted isn’t so perfect after all. He wonders how you would react if you were to find out again the atrocities he’s committed in the name of “love”. He holds his chips tightly, but luck has always been on his side.

So tonight like any other night, you’ll smile with no idea of what had occurred in the past. At the end of the day, occasionally it is better to live unaware.

•••

Jing Yuan - Grumpy x Sunshine

WHAT'S PLAYING: Carousel - Melanie Martinez

The Luofu General was known for his joyous laughter and the positivity that he spread throughout the entire planet. He joked and was an infectious smiler. You on the other hand were known as the Yin to his Yang. If Jing Yuan was the sun, you were his moon. It’s adorable on paper, isn’t it?

You do nothing less than agree with the fact that your husband Jing Yuan was very positive. The reason why differed from others though. 

You believed the reason he was so happy was because he sucked every smile, every laugh out of you. 

Your story was the average fairytale, opposite attracts and then they fall in love. The End.

Unfortunately for you, Jing Yuan was anything but ordinary, and maybe that played a part in your perfect tragedy. 

Jing Yuan loved you. You knew that for sure. He had always been a PDA person, always close to you and you would most likely be seen dead than without his arm around your waist. It wasn’t a big deal though. This is what lovers usually do right?

Until you tried to back away. Things got… messy. 

Arguments ensued and you realized that he never really treated you as an equal. He loved you, yes, but he viewed you as lesser and somehow put you on a pedestal at the same. exact. time.

“You don’t respect me.” You stated firmly.

“But I love you.” He replied as if nothing was wrong.

You never thought your husband to be a jealous person and truly he was not. The possessiveness is what got you through.

It began small from making excuses on why you shouldn’t go out,

“It’s my day off!” or “It might rain soon.” Both are lazy excuses you’ve heard again and again. Yet you still seemed to fall again and again for his sunshine charms and wits.

You were the perfect lover to Jing Yuan, loving, kind, and malleable to believe whatever he wanted you to believe.

At some point after the large argument you two shared, you didn’t remember the last time when you had left the estate. 

You felt stuck, stuck on a carousel that kept going around and around and stuck trying to read between the lines of Jing Yuan’s perfect facade. If you caught him at the wrong time you wouldn’t see him for days and when he would return he would haphazardly apologize with the stupidest excuses. 

You never raised your voice anymore after THAT argument though. You were too scared to. So even when he scratches his name into your skin, even if he hugs you so tightly to the point that you feel like your lungs are collapsing, you find excuses for him. For yourself. To make this entire relationship work

Because you love him.

And you don’t not what scares you more anymore. The slight warning in his tone and the ever-present toxicity seeping its way into your originally “perfect” marriage. 

Or.

The fact you’ll still stay even if it gets worse.

Why?

Because you love him.

•••

Blade - Forced Proximity.

WHAT’S PLAYING: This is Love - Air Traffic Controller

There’s blood on the walls, the floors, and even on the couch. Anything you’ve been able to find you’ve smashed onto the ground. Your hands are covered in blood. No worries to Blade though. He sits on the couch covered in the blood of a man. Your eyes flicker to the dead body right in front of you. The now dead man who tried to help you escape from this prison Blade oh so lovingly calls “your” home to no avail.

Blade’s red eyes stare into the distance of space. Perhaps he’s wondering what he should do next for your transgressions. Perhaps he is wondering what he can do to make you smile again. Or maybe, he doesn’t care. Maybe he finds happiness and contentedness in your suffering. After all, a being who is forever stricken by mara might find peace in others' pain. 

But.

Past this mara-stricken being is a man who does have some semblance of love for you. Blade knew your every like and dislike. He would trail kisses up your neck and on your lips. You’d joke together. You both were disgustingly domestic at times. At least that’s what appeared. Loving Blade wasn’t difficult when every moment you breathed you were near him. 

You wear outfits perfectly fitted to your style sponsored by your self-proclaimed lover himself. Anything you want you’ll get. Jewels, clothing, books, anything you could ever desire. It’s nothing but pocket money for the Stellaron Hunter. 

Your mascara has been smudged after all the tears. Your sniffles fill up the room, you look at your palms. Hands covered in scratches and blisters from broken glass and accidental burns. You don’t have to worry though, Blade will patch it all up for you. This situation will fade into the past just like all the others. Your head peaks again at the dismembered and maimed body on the floor. You stop breathing yet again. You shut your eyes and open them once again when you feel a warm breath on your neck. 

It’s Blade, you can tell that the mara had warned off him. He tightens his arms around your body and somehow pulls you closer than he ever did before in your “relationship”. You blink once again as a tear rolls down your cheek and pray to any Aeon out there for help. Despite this, you're well aware it’s no use. There’s no place in the universe where Blade won’t find you. So you close your eyes to hum a broken chord as you prepare for the cycle to begin again.

•••

Sunday - Soulmates

WHAT’S PLAYING: Butch 4 Butch - Rio Romeo

Fairytale love stories where the prince and the princess lived happily ever after were something that you grew up with on your home planet. As you grew up though, “soulmates” left your mind. Other things like making credits and exploring the galaxies were more on your agenda than finding “true love”.

True love was a fairytale. Something that didn’t exist and that’s what you stood by ever since.

Ever since your planet was destroyed by its inhabitants. If people couldn’t love the homes they lived in how could they ever love one another?

You enjoyed travel, you enjoyed learning about other planets, cultures, and people. You didn’t have time for the nonexistent love. Though you enjoyed hearing the stories of it. You’ve met others who found their “soulmates”, their one and only blessed by the Aeons themselves. 

On your travel across the world, you stumbled on Penacony, The Planet of Dreams and Entertainment. The perfect and endless days are what brought you in the most. You could be there for days on end but turn out to only spend a couple of hours outside in the “real world”.

Real world huh?

You think you miss the real world a little bit. 

“Are the pastries not to your liking love?” Sunday inquires.

“They’re… fine.” You reply.

Sunday smiles. You don’t know what it means though. He smiles at everything, he smiles at gatherings, at your laughter, and even at the tears you desperately try to hold in. He thinks of you as something to be protected, something that should be kept safe in a cage, away from the tainted lies of others.

Everything feels uncomfortable, from the moment you met Sunday you felt an odd gravitational pull towards him. It was truly as if he was your soulmate. 

Except,

Something begged you to run away, something deep in the back of your soul. It all went away when you laid eyes on him though. 

You wish you listened to your fight AND flight response.

Everything you wear is coordinated by the Head of the Oak Family. From the tiniest detail to your entire personality. Sunday is a firm believer that only the true you can come out behind closed doors, with locks only he has access to. His mansion was the perfect enrichment for a now flightless bird like you. 

Perhaps the fairytales were somewhat true. The prince and the princess always seemed to stay forever together.

[servicpop]

kinktober extra — gun play leon s. kennedy x bttm male reader

ⓘ neighbour (slight ooc) leon ! clothed leon naked reader ! he puts the gun up your ass

The outbreak was doing you no good, and the fact that you were all alone when all went to hell wasn't helping much either. However, being locked in the safety of your home gave you time to hideout while the worst washed over. Though eventually, you were forced outside to scavenge for food. Unlocking your front door as delicate as tip toeing around a sleeping lion, you quietly stepped outside the comfort of your home.

You were fortunate enough to be greeted with desolate streets; only the occasional ripped up paper or trash rolled across the ground. You had almost nothing, not even a gun, just a baseball bat you bought awhile ago to play with your friends once, only to never touch it again until now. At least you took the time to impale nails to add a little more offense to your weapon.

After some soft crunching of gravel under your feet and walking through eerily quiet roads, you were met with a convenience store. The neon signs were busted and didn't glow anymore but you were able to make out some un-raided shelves behind the shattered windows.

You pushed on the front door, the quiet jingle of the door opening made you jump out your skin for a second, why'd the bell still work despite everything else being broken? You tried to keep your footsteps light, navigating around the fallen shelves and racks on the floor. Seeing a few canned foods still untouched and packets of chips as well as some beverages, you felt a twinge of relief wash over you. This was probably enough for you to not go outside for a few weeks.

You decided to walk behind the register, searching for some candy or others that would be stocked there. With no luck your eyes met the employees only door, slightly ajar. Clutching your bat in your right hand, you slowly opened the door before you were met with a light tap on your forehead. A gun, held by a blonde man who seemed to have seen it all.

“A survivor? I feel like its been ages since I've seen another living human being,” He sighed, lowering his weapon and pulling you into the room by your arm. You felt him pause abruptly once getting a good look at your face and you blinked away your initial fear upon having a gun pointed to your head.

“Oh, you're my neighbour aren't you?” The corners of Leon's lips twitched into a slight curve but not enough to be counted as a wholehearted smile.

“Leon? I thought everyone in the neighbourhood turned,” You on the other hand couldn't help but smile seeing a familiar face after fully believing you were the only human left on earth. You take a small glance around the room, noting the equipment stuffed into one corner and a makeshift sleeping bag as well as a first aid kit that had been visibly used.

You knew he was an agent from having small chats over the fence, and from the looks of things, even those who undergo arduous training suffered — even if it was a little bit more bearable for them than others.

Leon's grip eventually loosens and he turns his back to you as he walks to the far wall, sliding down against it into a seated position. From here, the bandaged up gash on his side peeks out from the rips of his shirt. That's why the glass was as broken as it was, it was a sign of Leon's fight with the undead.

Following in his footsteps you go to sit down beside him, pulling your knees to your chest as you turn to look at him. His eyebags have never been darker and there's a frown that stains his face. Leon breaks the silence while pulling his knee up to rest his arm on it, his gun clacking as he moved.

“So, it's just you?” He questions, and you can hear the awkwardness in his voice. He's never been a good talker, everytime you met him while on a walk thr conversations usually ended with a quick excuse to pull away from it. You blame it on him having to see more horrors than the average person.

“Is that a bad thing?” You mean it in a playful way, placing your hands over your knees as a cushion for your cheek to rest on. You almost burst out laughing when you see Leon tense and you can practically see the panic that he's offended you in his eyes.

“No— No, not at all,” he tries to defend himself.

“Would you rather that flower girl who lives down the street?” It's a running joke that the neighbourhood shares of Leon that the big, cold agent is in love with the soft, florist girl.

He shoots you a glare, one that shows just how many times he's heard it over and over again. Instead of replying, he turns his head with a scoff like a bunny stomping its foot angrily. You brush it off as well after seeing his lack of a response and your eyes draw to the gun that's still held firmly in Leon's hand. It would be handy for you to learn how to use one since the bat won't always be useful.

“Do you think you could maybe teach me how to use that?” You ask almost hesitantly, fiddling with your fingers in a nervous habit.

“The gun?” Leon questions, tilting the gun so he could look at it properly. One part of him doesn't want you to use it, it creates an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach seeing a guy like you hold such a murderous weapon. The other part knows it's for the best, for your own protection when he has to part ways with you. After a minute of just staring at the gun, he finalises his decision.

“Sure, I guess you'll need it in the future,” he groans as he stands back up, hand on his thigh like he was an old man getting up from his rocking chair. He tousels his wispy blonde hair, combing it back with his fingers before focusing his attention on you.

His thick black eyelashes flutter as he stares at your face for a second, walking up to you and caging your hands in his. He guides your hands to the pistol, letting you feel the cold metal to familiarise yourself. He doesn't say a thing while he lets you feel the barrel and the grip. The grip feels almost scratchy which he lightly scoffs at your expression when your fingers ghosted over the texture.

“That's why my hands are all calloused,” he faces his palm up, showing you his toughened palm while he flexes his fingers.

“You have to hold it like this, firm grip, two hands.” Leon helps to guide your hands in place, adjusting your fingers and your wrist.

He whispers under his breath “Just like that,” watching as you hold the gun straight, aiming at the blank wall. You know it's best not to fire, though, that would attract whatever monster lays outside. The gun trembles, shaking like a stripped leaf, and you realise that your hands are quivering. You're not cut out for this. You feel the weight of Leon's hand lower the gun and he gently slips the weapon away from your hands and into his.

“You have to get desensitised to it, who knows what might happen without me,” Leon's eyebrows furrow and his nose creases from the pure thought of you getting captured and held at gun-point. It wasn't far from what could actually happen either considering the law was disregarded the moment people started eating eachothers brains.

Leon raises the pistol and presses the muzzle to your adams apple, feeling it bob from your swallows.

“Does it scare you?” It's not a threatening statement, it's him asking how you really feel having the gun pressed up against your skin. The hitch of your breath goes unnoticed as Leon drags the pistol lower to your chest. With the way he's looking down, you can see his dark eyelashes, a sliver of his muted blue iris' peeked through. He really was handsome.

“Or is it because you trust me that much?” The question jolts you out of your little trance, he was only your neighbour yet you didn't seem to react in fear when he held the gun to you.

“Maybe,” you breath out, letting your gaze flutter to the pistol dragging down your chest. Leon pulls it away before bringing it up and tapping the flat side of the barrel against your cheek. There's a certain look in his eyes, its almost pitiful like a hunter watching the deer caught in the net lay completely still, unfazed.

Leon leans closer to your face, his nose practically brushing against yours. You could almost make out the faint breaths if you listened close enough and you see his tongue dart out to wet his lips before he swallowed thickly.

“I think you're liking this a little too much,” he mutters, tilting his head slightly to the right as he looks down at you, his hair falling to the direction he moves his head at. The way Leon speaks now is hushed, sultry even. He's only half joking, he sees the way your eyelids flicker a little too rapidly when he glides the muzzle over your clothes.

Your face flushes, realising that he's caught on your little inner turmoil.

“It's just the adrenaline.” You swallow your lie like it's medication; it's hard to go unnoticed when you so obviously gulp. It's not fully a lie though — you've read in a previous article things like erections can happen due to adrenaline. You squeeze your eyes shut, almost like you're preparing to be scolded by Leon.

But all you're met with is a small sigh and a shake of his head.

“If you want it, do it quickly, we won't have time to indulge in distractions in the heat of things.” Your eyes fling open, caught off guard by the fact that the Leon, your neighbour, just gave you the greenlight. You look up at him through your lashes and he returns your gaze with a small glint of reciprocating desire. The absence of an opportunity for sex really catches up when you're surrounded by infected and never in a safe position.

Before you can even say anything, Leon is already slipping off your shirt; your jacket had already been discarded when you entered the employee's only room. He takes a moment to skim over your naked body, observing all the dips and curves, and the fact that your blush reaches all the way down to your shoulders. He brushes the muzzle over your chest, and upon seeing you shiver at the coolness, a smirk quirks on his lips.

“Cold?”

“Yeah,”

You whine, gripping his forearm in a lousy attempt to stop him from rubbing the metal on your nipple. It doesn't stop him though, he gently grazes your perky buds, chuckling softly as he watches your eyebrows knit from the feeling.

“Sorry then,” he hums with amusement coloring his tone. Leon's breath becomes shallower as he trails the gun down along the line in the middle of your abdomen, all the way down to your pants.

“You're going to be the death of me,” He grunts out, delicately guiding you to lean against the wall. His arm is wrapped so securely around your back like a warm embrace. The warmth of his arm around your bare back shields you from the frigid material of the wall but the second he slips it away from you your back arches off uncomfortably.

“Bare it,” Leon pushes you back against the wall and you whimper at the cold. Its somewhat cruel how he's doing this but you understand its to get your body used to the harsh changes in environments. He mumbled small praises that are inaudible to your ears but you can barely make out the words 'good boy.'

His fingers tug at your zipper, pulling it down but you reach out to stop him, noticing how he's not taking any of his clothes off. Like he was reading your mind, Leon scoffs with a small smirk.

“I can't, it's too risky to have to put anything on if we get ambushed,” He links his fingers underneath the elastic waistband of your boxers, stretching it out a bit before pulling them down to rest at your mid thigh.

“But that doesn't mean you can't enjoy yourself,” He places one arm at the side of your head, caging it in, and his other weilds the pistol. He can't take off his clothes so he can't fuck you properly but he resorts to using his gun instead. It's shameless with the way he's spreading the soft flesh of your thighs apart with a gun like he was slotting his dick between them.

His eyes aren't on you, they're on your body, carefully sliding the hunk of metal against your hole. It almost hurts with how dry and cold the metal feels against your skin but you don't complain. Leon muses when he sees your cock twitch when he slides the muzzle up from the base to your pink tip. He quirks an eyebrow at you, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours.

“Feels weird doesn't it? Promise once we're out of this shithole I'll give you everything you want,” Again, Leon goes off about something in the future. He's thinking of a future with you after things smooth over, you can't help but bite back the small moan you were going to let out. His bangs are now covering his eyes when he returns his gaze to your lower half.

Your hips instinctively move against the barrel of the gun, sliding yourself against it. Its like the pleasure is almost there but not really, its left you struggling to find good friction. Leon notices your strangled whines and contorted face and he feels slightly guilty for not being able to give you the relief you definitely need.

He spits on the gun, lubing it up and taking a mental note to polish and clean it afterwards. Leon tilts the muzzle up, wriggling it past your tight rim. When the tip of gun enters you, you gasp, straightening your body from the foreign object being stuffed in your ass.

“Leon—” your voice cracks.

“Trust me.”

He can hear the slight panic in your voice and his palm moves to cover your eyes. You're squirming, unsure of whether to lean in or pull away from the sensation. He pushes himself up against you to keep you still since his hands are already full. Leon groans gently at how much warmth he can feel seeping into his clothes from your body heat.

He slowly pushes the gun further, tuning into the soft squelching sounds of the metal making its way through your walls. Leon couldn't deny that he was a bit jealous of how his pistol was able to feel your wet walls clenching around it rather than himself.

“Shit, you're taking it better than I thought,” He grumbled under his breath, thrusting the metal into you, attempting to push it even deeper to find your sweet spot. Leon finally moved his hands from your eyes and placed his hand on your waist, extending his thumb to rub circles over your stomach. He twists the gun inside you, flushing against your prostate. The sudden jolt of pleasure caused you to cry out and reach to grab his shoulders.

He pushed against your prostate a few times, observing how your eyes would water with each thrust and how your teeth would bite down even harder on your bottom lip the more he hit that specific spot. He slowly pulled the gun fully out with a small pop.

“Didn't know that would work,” He joked lightly, slotting the gun between your legs once more and squeezing your thighs together. He threw the gun from one hand into the other, gripping the pistol in his left hand. Leon slid his ring and middle finger alongside your ass, dipping down the curve to meet your already stretched hole. He dipped his fingers inside, already burying his fingers up to his knuckles.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you, curling his fingers up to press against the deepest parts of you. Leon dragged the gun back and forth between your thighs, letting you hump the metal like a dog.

“Attaboy,” he chuckled darkly, moving his fingers faster, practically slapping his palm against your tail bone as he fingered you from behind. Pre-cum started to bead off your slit and smeared all over Leon's gun.

“You're already getting so wet,” he shook his head, feigning disappointment as he moved the gun to trace your tip, ghosting over your skin.

You whined and thrashed from the ticklish sensation, but when you tried to lean away from it, you ended up pushing up against Leon's fingers, letting them reach even deeper.

“Leon,” you mewl, gripping his shoulders desperately as your dick twitches feverishly. “'M gonna cum.”

Your soft whimpers undoubtedly got his dick hard and he swore if you kept up with the whining he'd really just take off his pants and fuck the life out of you. Leon didn't respond, he just swallowed a groan and curled his fingers to your prostate.

Feeling that familiar spark in your veins, your body convulsed and you let out a high-pitched moan, blanking out as you shot ropes of cum out, dirtying Leon's gun with white.

“I got you, I got you, don't worry,” He felt your legs give out and quickly caught you, letting you lean on him while you came down from your high. Leon pulled the gun from your legs, turning it side to side and watching as your semen dripped down the sides.

Would it even work anymore?

[vexwerewolf]

If we talk about the aesthetics of technology in Lancer, we can divide each of the Big 4 along lines of form and function.

IPS-N: Pure Function

IPS-N cares only what a mech does. It doesn't need to look good or pretty doing it - it only needs to be able to do that thing well. It's notable that the Raleigh, arguably the most form-oriented of the IPS-N frames, is also considered to be the company's biggest commercial failure - they strayed from their core design principles and got punished for it.

Harrison Armory: Form Follows Function

Harrison Armory still leans pretty heavily towards the functionality side of things, but it isn't satisfied with doing a good job alone. Yes, the mechs have to perform well, but they also have to look good doing it. There's no practical application for the Sherman's sleeveless coat or the Tokugawa's dainty little tassels, but they don't hinder combat functionality and they make the mechs look dashing. In comparison to IPS-N's coarse, industrial, almost unfinished look, HA mechs look stern, austere and imposing. There's a smoothness to them that you just don't get on IPS-N frames.

SSC: Function Follows Form

SSC is where we start to plunge into aesthetics-forward mech design. The Death's Head isn't six-legged because it's a sniper - the Death's Head is a sniper because it's six-legged. SSC came up with a mech design and asked: "what would this do best?" A six-legged chassis provided a more stable firing platform for precision weaponry, so that was what it did. Shapes and appearances are invented, and then a use case is discovered for them.

HORUS: Pure Form

It might seem weird to classify HORUS as "pure form" when their mechs largely don't have a consistent visual identity outside of the examples in the book. However, if we look a little deeper at the definition of "form," the explanation becomes clear: in some ways, HORUS is in the business of making statements, not mechs.

For anyone who's actually played a HORUS mech in Lancer, you may have noticed how awkward they are to actually pilot. Their statlines are, on paper, often very poorly suited to the sort of work they have to do. The Gorgon is built to attract attention and draw fire but has no armor. The Manticore is meant to be a front-line fighter but is quite slow. The Minotaur is meant to be a tech platform but has a low sensor range. The Pegasus' one functional trait doesn't apply to any of the weapons in its equipment package!

This is because HORUS mechs are designed purely as a testament to a certain discipline of technology. I remember expressing irritation with a friend's NeoGeo-for-X-Box emulator once, that you couldn't reconfigure the controller mapping so that it was easier to play with the X-Box controller. He remarked that it was meant as a historical preservation tool that perfectly duplicated the functionality of the NeoGeo, and that the only reason you could even play games using it at all is because that was a function of NeoGeo arcade cabinets.

That's how HORUS mechs are - their usability as chassis is broadly a side-effect.

[mephisto-reporting]

Take A Break

About: You’ve been pushing yourself to the brink of exhaustion. Someone needs to step in and help you rest before it takes a serious toll on your health—or worse. Pairing: Reader x Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus (Seperate) Note: Reader and the men are not in a relationship yet but there is an implied mutual attraction.

XAVIER

You could feel exhaustion creeping into your bones, but your hands still worked, fixing up your equipment, mindlessly checking and rechecking everything.

“You should take a break.”

Xavier’s voice, calm and devoid of inflection. He was seated at the table, eyes half-lidded as if he could fall asleep at any moment. His usual expression didn’t waver, but you’d been around him long enough to recognize the care beneath it.

“I’m fine,” you replied, though the slight tremble in your hands betrayed the truth. You kept busy, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

He did.

Without saying anything, Xavier reached into his jacket and pulled out a deck of Kitty Cards, placing them on the table between you. “Play a round with me.”

You glanced at him, raising a brow. “Now’s really not the time for games, Xavier.”

He shrugged, his expression unchanged. “You won’t rest, and there is time until the next mission, so this is the compromise. Besides…” His eyes glimmered with the smallest trace of mischief. “I want to win this time.”

Xavier’s boyish charm peeked through his usual calm, and despite yourself, you couldn’t help but smile. He knew exactly how to get to you, and this was one of those moments where he wasn’t above using it.

“Fine,” you said, reluctantly setting down your tools. “But don’t think I’ll go easy on you.”

His lips quirked up. “I wouldn’t dream of it. But if I win, you listen to me and get some rest., Deal?”

Knowing how he usually was in this game, you confidentally accepted his deal. There was no way you would lose. As the game commenced, Xavier’s focus was unwavering. He played his cards methodically, and before long, he had amassed a considerable lead. You frowned, desperately trying to catch up. Just as you were about to make a move, Xavier leaned back, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Xavier!” you exclaimed, half-laughing, half-annoyed as he dozed off, completely unaware of the game progressing without him. You couldn’t help but shake your head in disbelief. The sudden quiet felt oddly peaceful, allowing you to relax for just a moment. You noticed how the soft glow of the lights illuminated his serene expression.

“Did I fall asleep?” he asked, feigning innocence, though you could see the way he fought back a smile.

You shook your head, trying to focus, but fatigue was making it hard. Xavier’s hand was steady as he played his next move, drawing the game closer to an end.

He was winning. “Looks like you’re distracted,” Xavier commented, his voice still soft, though there was an edge of teasing in it. “Maybe you're too tired to concentrate?”

You glared at him playfully. “You’re just lucky today.”

Finally, with a quiet triumph in his eyes that didn’t quite reach his face, he played his last card. "I win."

You exhaled, a sense of frustration bubbling up inside. “Alright, you got me. What now? Another round?”

He shook his head, leaning forward just slightly. His gaze softened, his unreadable expression giving way to something more sincere. “No. Now you rest.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Xavier cut you off. “You’re exhausted. I can see it. If you keep pushing yourself, you won’t be able to fight the Wanderers. You won’t be able to protect yourself. this is my win. You rest.”

You blinked at him, a warmth settling in your chest at the unexpected care behind his words. Xavier, the one who barely showed emotion, was looking out for you in his own way. You couldn’t deny it any longer. You were tired, so incredibly tired.

“Alright,” you conceded, leaning back into the sofa. “I’ll rest.”

Xavier gave a slow nod, his eyes softening further. “Good.”

As you closed your eyes, you felt him reach over, the deck of cards disappearing from the table. The familiar sound of shuffling filled the air, and though he didn’t say anything more, the steady presence of Xavier nearby was all the comfort you needed.

He had won, but in that moment, so had you.

ZAYNE

The makeshift hospital buzzed with activity, filled with the low hum of hurried footsteps and murmured instructions. The air was thick with exhaustion, tension from the recent attacks on the area palpable. You’d been at it for hours, taking on shift after shift without a break, ensuring that everyone in the hospital remained safe. Your body ached, your limbs felt heavier with every passing moment, but you pressed on.

There wasn’t time to rest.

Zayne was nearby, performing triage on the injured, his face as stoic as always. Despite the weight of the situation, he remained calm, moving with precise efficiency. His hands—deft and careful as ever—made sure each patient was stabilized, patched up, and prepped for whatever came next.

You caught his gaze for a fleeting moment, and though he didn’t say anything, you could see the concern beneath his composed exterior.

“Still standing, huh?” Zayne said, his voice low as he approached you, eyes scanning over your fatigued form. His tone, as usual, carried a hint of dry amusement despite the serious situation. “Or at least trying to.”

You shrugged, trying to shake off the weight of his words. “I’m fine.”

“Of course you are.” He raised an eyebrow, his voice laced with sarcasm. “It’s not like you’ve been up for nearly 24 hours or anything.” He sighed, his lips twitching slightly as if resisting the urge to smile.

You rolled your eyes, brushing off his words. “I’m not the only one working without rest.”

Zayne gave a short nod, acknowledging your point. “True. But there’s a difference between pushing yourself and running yourself into the ground.” He glanced around the ward before turning his full attention back to you. “Come with me. You’ve done enough for now. I’ve got something that might help.”

You hesitated, but Zayne’s insistence was always hard to ignore. “What, now?”

“Yes. Now,” he replied, his tone firm but not without warmth. “I’ll even make sure it doesn’t take long.”

He didn’t give you much room to argue. Without waiting for a reply, he placed a gentle but guiding hand on your arm and led you to a small side ward, one reserved for staff members to take quick breaks. You gave him a quizzical look, but he just waved off your concerns with a simple, “Trust me.”

There, on a nearby table, sat two sealed containers of food. It wasn’t anything extravagant. “Eat,” he said, his voice calm, but there was an underlying firmness that told you he wasn’t asking.

You frowned, stubbornness rising up despite the exhaustion. “I don’t have time to eat, Zayne. There are still—”

“Eat,” he repeated, cutting you off. This time, his gaze softened, a rare show of tenderness slipping through his usually stoic exterior. “You can’t protect anyone if you collapse. This isn’t a negotiation.”

With a sigh, you took the container, too tired to argue further. You sat on one of the nearby beds, picking at the food slowly. Zayne stood nearby, his arms crossed, watching you with what seemed like affection. After a few bites, you felt the weight of the day pressing down on you more than ever. You leaned back, letting the exhaustion creep in despite your best efforts to resist it. The bed beneath you was far too comfortable for your sleep-deprived mind to ignore.

You didn’t even notice when Zayne quietly removed the empty container from your hands.

“You’re done,” he murmured softly, his hand brushing lightly against your shoulder. His touch was firm but soothing, and you found yourself slipping further into the comfort of the bed. “Close your eyes.”

You blinked up at him, confused. “I wasn’t planning on resting…”

“Of course not,” he said dryly, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “But you are now. Doctors orders.”

Before you could protest, Zayne’s hand slid from your shoulder to your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin in a gesture so tender it left you speechless. “And if it gets you to rest, I’ll take a break too.”

Despite your determination, the exhaustion finally won. Zayne’s gentle touch and the warmth of his words lulled you into a peaceful surrender. You felt his presence nearby as your eyes fluttered shut, the steady rhythm of his breathing a comforting sound in the otherwise chaotic hospital. “I’ll be right here,” Zayne added softly, his voice the last thing you heard before sleep overtook you. “Get some rest.”

And with him by your side, for the first time in what felt like forever, you did.

RAFAYEL

You hadn’t seen Rafayel in days—not since your latest string of missions had taken you deep into the conflict with the Wanderers. As much as you tried to keep up with everything, exhaustion was catching up to you. Your movements felt sluggish, but you pushed on, determined not to let fatigue show. After all, you had work to do. Rafayel had a mission for you.

When you finally stepped into Rafayel’s space, his studio, he greeted you with a pout. "Well, look who finally decided to show up." His tone was bratty and haughty. "I was starting to think you forgot about me, Miss Bodyguard. "

You could hear the petulance in his voice, but you knew better. Beneath the teasing, there was always something softer with Rafayel, no matter how much he tried to hide it. He took a slow, deliberate look at you, eyes narrowing slightly, as if he was annoyed by what he saw. He noticed your exhaustion.

Not that he’d ever admit it out loud.

“I’ve been...occupied,” you replied with a tired smile. “I’m sure you’ve been managing just fine without me.”

“Hmph,” he huffed, turning his head dramatically. “As if I’d need you around to keep me entertained. But—" He paused, his voice dropping into a more playful, roguish tone, "It is terribly boring without you. I’ve been waiting for ages.”

You blinked, slightly taken aback. “So, what’s this mission you’ve dragged me here for?”

Rafayel hesitated for the briefest of moments, but then, with a casual wave of his hand, he dismissed whatever real task had brought you here. His lips curled into a mischievous smirk, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he leaned forward slightly. “Ah, the mission? Well, I’ve decided I need a muse for my next painting,” he said smoothly. “And you, my dear Miss Bodyguard, will do just fine.”

Before you could protest, he was already pulling you over to a plush chaise lounge, his touch light but insistent as he maneuvered you into place. "Lie down," he ordered in his typical, half-commanding, half-teasing way. "You’re far too stiff to inspire anything worthwhile."

“What? A painting?” you began to object, trying to sit up. "Rafayel, I don’t—"

“Shhh.” He pressed a finger to his lips and gave you a lazy, charming smile, as if you were the one being unreasonable. "Don’t move. You’ll ruin the masterpiece.”

Despite the flirtatious teasing, there was a strange warmth in his tone that had your heart skipping a beat. He made it impossible to argue, his words dripping with that roguish charm of his. Before you knew it, you were sinking into the softness of the chaise lounge, your limbs too heavy to resist.

"Now stay perfectly still,” he instructed, settling down with his canvas and brushes. “I want to capture you just like this.” His voice was almost a purr, amused by your protests but not letting you get a word in edgewise.

“Rafayel, I don’t have time to—” you tried, but he waved you off with that same infuriatingly relaxed smile.

“Tsk tsk tsk. I’m the artist here, remember? You’re just the subject,” he said, eyes twinkling with mischief as he continued to pretend like this was all part of some grand artistic vision. “Don’t ruin the vibe.”

You couldn’t help but scoff softly at his antics, but your exhaustion was winning. Between his teasing words and the comfortable softness of the chaise, your body was betraying you. The fight to stay awake was quickly becoming a losing battle.

Rafayel's voice was a soft hum in the background as he began to paint, each word drawing you further into a haze of warmth and comfort.

"See? Isn’t this better? I’ve always preferred my muses to be calm...and peaceful.” Lies. He knew it. He glanced up, his lips quirking in a knowing smile as he saw your eyelids drooping. “Don’t worry, Miss Bodyguard. You’re perfect just like this.”

As your consciousness started to slip away, the last thing you felt was Rafayel’s hand brushing against your hair in an uncharacteristically tender gesture. His bratty, teasing nature had softened, just for a moment, as he watched you drift off to sleep.

When you were fully asleep, he set down his brush, a satisfied smirk still on his face. He pulled a soft throw blanket from a nearby chair and draped it over you, his voice low as he spoke to your resting form.

“You really shouldn’t overwork yourself like this, you know?” His tone, for once, was gentle, almost affectionate. “I might not say it, but…I miss you when you’re gone.”

SYLUS

The small town was quiet as you finally made your way back, the distant hum of your motorbike in sight. It had been a grueling week spent battling through the Metaflux high zone and clearing out the Wanderers. The mission had taken its toll—your body was heavy with exhaustion, your muscles aching, but you had pushed through. You always did.

Reaching for your comms, you were about to check the latest updates when you noticed a shadowy figure leaning casually against your bike. The unmistakable silhouette made your pulse quicken. Sylus. He was dressed as sharp and intimidating as ever, his hair tousled just enough to give him that rogue-ish charm. His signature smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, like he was amused by your surprise, but his sharp gaze gave away nothing.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, not hiding the confusion in your voice. Even though he wasexactly the type to show up unannounced without a reason. And his reasons were rarely straightforward.

“Business,” he replied vaguely, the smirk never leaving his lips. He made it sound like it was the most obvious answer in the world. “Had to deal with something. But… I seem to have found something else worth my attention.”

Before you could react, his hand reached out, gently but firmly taking hold of your wrist. His touch was surprisingly warm but assertive, and with a deft flick of his thumb, he shut off your comms.

“You’re coming with me,” he said, his voice dripping with authority, leaving no room for argument.

“Sylus, I don’t have time for—”

But before you could finish the sentence, you felt the familiar tug of his Evol—his will imposing on yours. In a swift, almost effortless move, he guided you onto your motorbike, positioning you behind him as he took control. The engine roared to life under his command.

“You’ll thank me later,” he said over his shoulder, that smug confidence radiating off him as he drove you both away.

The ride was fast and purposeful. You tried to protest, tried to convince him to stop, but he was always a step ahead. His control never faltered, and your words fell flat against the rush of the wind. Sylus didn’t let go of the reins until the bike finally came to a stop in front of a lavish hotel on the outskirts of town.

“Really? A hotel?” you muttered, incredulous.

He didn’t respond immediately, instead using his Evol once again to guide you inside and straight into a large, opulent room. Everything about the space screamed luxury—the soft lighting, the plush velvet furnishings, and the enormous bed that took center stage.

Still reeling from the unexpected turn of events, you tried to stand your ground. “Sylus, I don’t have time for this. I need to get back, there are Wanderers—”

“They’re being handled,” he interrupted smoothly, crossing the room with a lazy, confident stride. “Luke and Kieran are on patrol. You’ve been running yourself into the ground for the past week. It’s time for you to stop.” He gestured toward the bed. "Sit."

“Sylus—” you began, but before you could argue further, you felt that familiar pulse of his Evol, urging you toward the bed. His power wrapped around you, persuasive and unyielding, as if coaxing your tired body to comply with his silent command.

Your legs betrayed you, and you sank down onto the soft mattress, glaring up at him as he stood over you, arms crossed, his expression a mixture of triumph and something more difficult to place.

“You’re impossible,” you grumbled.

“Me?” He raised an eyebrow, the smirk finally softening into something closer to amusement. “I’m not the one pretending to be invincible, sweetie. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard, and we both know it.”

You scowled, but deep down, you knew he was right. The exhaustion clung to your bones, and the idea of resting—even for a moment—was becoming more tempting by the second. Still, giving in to Sylus felt like losing a battle you hadn’t agreed to fight.

“Look,” he said, leaning down, his voice dropping to a softer, more persuasive tone. “Let’s make a deal.”

You eyed him warily. "What kind of deal?"

He tilted his head, his lips curving into a sly grin. “You rest—just for a little while. Take the next few hours off. In return…” His voice lowered, taking on that smooth, almost dangerous quality he used when he knew he had the upper hand. “I’ll let you decide what you want from me afterward. Something I can’t say no to.”

You blinked, momentarily thrown off by the offer. Sylus never relinquished control easily, and for him to offer anything in return… well, it was enough to give you pause.

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch, kitten” he replied, his smirk widening just a fraction. “Think of it as a rare moment of generosity. You rest, really rest, and I’ll owe you a favor. Deal?”

You hesitated, trying to weigh your options, but the exhaustion gnawing at you was impossible to ignore. You’d been running on fumes, and Sylus—infuriatingly—was giving you a way out, even if it was wrapped up in his manipulative charm.

Finally, you sighed, giving in. “Fine. Deal.”

He smiled, that smug, triumphant smile that made you want to punch him and kiss him all at once. “Good girl,” he purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he moved to the edge of the bed. “Now rest. I’ll make sure nothing happens to this town while you do.”

Before you could protest further, he covered you with a soft blanket, his touch lingering a little longer than necessary. His hand brushed against your cheek for a moment, his fingers gentle—almost tender, though he’d never admit it. “You don’t have to play the hero all the time, you know,” he said quietly. “Let someone else handle things for once.”

“You... really owe me a favor?”

He chuckled softly, sitting beside you on the edge of the bed. “I always keep my promises... especially to you.”

Before you could say anything else, your exhaustion finally overtook you, and the last thing you felt was Sylus’s hand lingering on yours, his thumb tracing a light, almost affectionate circle against your skin. You realized—just for a moment—that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t mind letting Sylus win this one.

Just this once.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

[sometimesanalice]

Dream a Little Dream

Summary: After a long week away in Lemoore, all Bradley wants to do is come home to you. The only thing is, you’re just not where he expects to find you.

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 4.5K

Warnings: so much fluff and a truly smitten Bradley Bradshaw (mdni)

(author's note: this is a fic is set in the 'Like I Can' universe, however it can be read on it's own!)

Bradley throws his head back and lets out low groan as he hits another red light.

Nothing in the past week he’d spent up in Lemoore had felt as long as this drive home from base.

Not the stuffy dinner with the higher ups that had Mav and him exchanging looks from across the table, both of them clearly wishing to be anywhere else than done up in their Dress Whites. Not the long nights sharing a room with Hangman, who snored louder than the multiple phone alarms that he’d kept snoozing instead of turning off, as if the scratchy Navy provided sheets weren’t bad enough on their own. Not the drills or the lectures or the reviewing of the new procedural guidelines or equipment requirements with the crew stationed up there.

He'd felt the all the tension that had been building up over the week melt off of him the moment he’d turned the key in the ignition- the engine to the Bronco rumbling to life after a week of sitting on a parking lot on North Island- knowing that he was finally on his way home.

Technically, he was on his way to your apartment. But it was the same difference to him.

Wherever you were was where he wanted to be.

That was home. You were home.

Minus the fact that the San Diego traffic controllers seemed to have it out for him.

He thought for a moment he’d make it to your place in record time considering that there weren’t many people on the road a 2am. He hadn’t even bothered to turn the radio on, but even 105.3 THE ROCK where hits go to die would be preferable to the way he was agitatedly drumming his thumb on the steering wheel. But he was stubborn and now he left it off out of spite when his drive became a game of ‘How Many Times Will Rooster Hit The Red’.

It had been more stop than go at this point.

“Finally,” Bradley mumbles to himself when the light turns green and shifts out of neutral into first.

When Jake had dropped him off at base after their five-hour road trip back to San Diego, he’d decided to suck it up and stick around to get some of the paperwork that he’d been putting off out of the way so that he could enjoy the days off he had lined up after the trip. He might have lost track of time and caught a second wind filling out flight logs with only the whir of the overhead fluorescents to keep him company, working until he reached the point where he felt like he couldn’t keep his eyes opened anymore. His eyelids getting heavier and heavier with each passing minute he stayed seated at the desk he’d commandeered to work at.

It had been a week of sleeping like shit. And not just because of the creaky, lumpy mattress or Hangman’s snoring. But because he’d gotten used to your soft, warm body pressed against his and the sound of your gentle breathing to lull him to sleep. He’d had a taste of what true luxury was like and now it was hard to go back to the bare minimum he’d known before.

He’d known even before he’d left the building that he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep unless you were tucked against him. He’d barely slept 300 miles away from you, but it would have been even worse to go back to his condo knowing you were closer than ever and yet still so far.

Being in the same city wasn’t enough for him. He needed to be under the same roof, under the same covers.

Four red lights later, he’s turning onto your block. By some kind of miracle there’s an open spot big enough for the Bronco near the main entry without him having to maneuver into it with too much effort. It’s another reason why he’s dying to have you move in with him, the parking at your apartment complex is trash. And there are never enough guest spots, even with the parking pass he kept in his glove box.

Bradley lets himself in to your apartment as quietly as he can, opening the door slowly as to not wake you. The spare key you’d given him when you’d first moved here had lived on his own set of keys for the last couple of years, along with the fighter jet keychain you’d picked up for him when the two of you were teens during a family trip to Pensacola as thanks for looking after your hermit crabs. Even if one of them did lose a claw on his watch, which he’d felt guilty about for days, until you told him it would most likely grow back.

He’d never had a lot to be sentimental about, but that keychain with the charm whose silver finish had long been worn off around the edges was one of the few things that had been everywhere with him, so it wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

He gingerly sets the key on the console table you had near the front door, trying to keep them from clattering together. Carefully, he toes his boots off and sets his bag down next to them, making sure to keep it off the runner you had in the entryway. He knew you wouldn’t care if he tracked in some dirt on it, but he did.

One of the things he’s always liked about your apartment is how lived in it was.

Even in the dark, Bradley could make out the ruffly curtains you’d hung up over the door to your balcony. And the impressive gallery wall that framed your TV, one that was a mix of your own photos and art that you’ve accumulated along the way. There were more pillows than he thought was necessary on your couch, but made for one of his favorite afternoon nap spots. You usually had fresh flowers on your coffee table, the ones there now from what he could tell looked a little wilted, so he made a note to pick you up something from the shop next to the grocery store when he goes out to restock his fridge.

He lightly treads past your kitchen- and the two different types of coffee makers you had lined up on the countertop- towards your bedroom.

Bradley could already see it in his mind’s eye. The curve of the dip of your waist as you slept under your white comforter with the light blue piping along the edges. Always with a foot kicked out. The framed picture of the two of you on your nightstand. The chair in the corner where your pile of folded-and-to-be-put-away-later clean clothes sat. Your dresser topped with some leafy green thing and your tray of jewelry, where you’d cleared out not one but three drawers - which was a whole half of wooden unit he’d helped you build when you first moved in- for him to use for his things. Not to mention space in your closest too and room on the shoe rack you kept in there.

It was more than what he needed, but that was you. You’d always been the type to go above and beyond for the people you cared about. But now it meant more because you weren’t just sharing your space with him, you were sharing your life with him.

The blinds aren’t pulled closed, so your room is illumined with more city light than he was expecting. And he can see with clarity that everything is in its place.

The picture of him kissing your cheek- your nose scrunched up in that way he knows so well- in the grassy park where you’d surprised him with a showing of one of his favorite movies on one of your first dates together. The white linen covered chair with your clothes had an old sweatshirt of his tossed over the back of it that he knows if he were to pick it up would smell more like you than him. The plant in the white ceramic vase on your dresser was one you’d bought at the farmer’s market almost two years ago now to commemorate your big move there, you’d proudly carried it around for the rest of the morning while he’d carried your ever-growing collection of bags.

Everything right where it should be, except for you.

Your bed is perfectly made up. Well, the side he usually sleeps on is. The are corners still tucked in with the same crisp precision you use to wrap presents. The right side, however, looks like the comforter and sheets were hastily thrown back, a rumpled pile of fabric in the spot where he thought you’d be sleeping.

There’s only one other place where you would be.

Bradley doesn’t even try to quiet his steps as he struts back towards the door with a new destination in mind. He shoves his feet back into his boots, not bothering to retie his laces, as he scoops his keys out of the little bowl he’d just put them in barely even five minutes ago. Only slowing down long enough to make sure he’s properly locked the door behind him before he’s back in the Bronco for the second time that night.

This time the drive feels like nothing. Especially since he hits green lights all the way there.

His lips turn up in an automatic smile when he sees your all-too-practical white Honda Civic parked in the drive way of his condo. He doesn’t think he could find the words to describe the feeling that wells up in his chest at the sight of it.

It just felt right.

Bradley lets himself in, using his own key this time.  

His condo had always felt more like a place to land, rather than a home. Over the last few months though that feeling has changed for him.

For Bradley’s whole life things have felt temporary. The people he met. The things he owned. The bases he lived on. You made him crave permanence in a way he’d never experienced before. The two of you had a couple decades worth of history, but he knew he couldn’t be truly content until his ring was on your finger and you shared his last name.

He can see your fingerprints in this space from the knit blanket draped on his couch to the framed print on the wall over the breakfast nook. He can see the promise of a future together in the fancier-than-he’s-used-to coffee maker on the kitchen counter.

It’s quiet, but not the empty kind.

The light above the stove is turned on illuminating the kitchen.

That was usually his final task of the night before going to bed. Flicking off the brighter overheads in exchange for the softer one that gave him just enough light to avoid crashing into things in the darkness if he woke up in the middle of the night and was on the hunt for something to eat or drink while still half-asleep.

Although it hits him now that he can’t remember the last time he’s turned it on himself.

It was something he’d noticed that you didn’t do at your own apartment when the two of you had first started sleeping together. But now if he thinks back on it, every glass of cool water out of the filtering pitcher you kept in the fridge and every bowl of late-night cereal he’s had that little light has been on to guide him into the kitchen while you slept peacefully in bed.

It’s a realization that lands squarely behind his ribcage.

Bradley kicks his boots off next to your sandals by the door and turns the lock back into place behind him. Normally, he’d take them up to be put away in their proper place, but for now he’s got other more important things on his mind.

He takes the stairs two at a time as soundlessly as he can, avoiding the step that sometimes pops. The first door on the left has been left slightly ajar, just wide enough for him to slip into.

there you are, his heart registers before his eyes do.

Tucked under the green comforter- with that one foot kicked out- on the wooden canopy bed he’d recently purchased is you.

He couldn’t fight back the smile on his face that the sight of you curled up there on his side of the bed, with your face pressed into his pillow, even if he wanted to.

Bradley still doesn’t know how he got to be so lucky that he gets to be the one to see you like this, at complete ease as you sleep, as relaxed in his bed as you are in your own. He’s grateful for every morning he gets to wake up with you and every night he gets to fall asleep with you in his arms.

It’s never been like this for him, not before you. It’s a good thing he’s already told you he loved you, otherwise he doesn’t think he could have been able to hold himself back from waking you up right here and now to tell you.

Quietly, he steps up the side of the bed, taking a moment to admire you looking soft and warm and like everything he could ever want. The few FaceTime calls the two of you had had over the course of the week couldn’t even begin to capture just how beautiful you were. Bradley leans down to brush a featherlight kiss against your temple and straightens back up. You let out a contented hmm, and he hopes you’re dreaming of him.

He’s never needed anything more than to be under those covers with you.

Bradley undresses quickly in the walk-in closet and strips down to his boxer briefs, leaving his khakis to decorate the floor until sometime later when the sun was back up in the sky. Realizing as he takes off his watch that in his rush to get here that he’d left his bag with all his other laundry by the door at your apartment. A grunt of exasperation escapes him, and he’s glad that you’re a deep sleeper and the fact he keeps his baseball bat in the garage. Especially since he’s the one that taught you how to power swing.

The only sound in the room is of your even breaths and his carpet-muffled footsteps as he pads across the room. He lifts up the covers on your side of them bed and slides into the cool sheets, the stiffness in his joints loosening at the contact, and scoots in closer until he can feel your warmth.

He’d been in San Diego for the better part of four hours now, but he hadn’t been truly home until about thirty seconds ago.

Bradley debates for a split-second whether or not to let you sleep or if he should wake you up so you’re not startled to find a 6’ 1” aviator back in bed with you. But he knows you well enough to make an educated guess. He murmurs your name, rubbing a hand gently up and down along your back, and presses his lips together when you let out a soft, sleepy sigh.

You jolt a little as you ease back into consciousness. “B-bradley?”

“It’s just me,” he hums in confirmation as he squeezes your hip, all sleep-warmed skin under his palm. He doesn’t miss the way you relax instantly against him at the sound of his voice, settling further back into him.

“You’re home early.” You reach back for him, your hand finding the base of his head, lightly scratching at his scalp as you weave your fingers through his hair.

“Mav either pulled some strings or took one for the team by staying another day, but we all jumped at the chance to get out of Le-snore early.” You let out a little snort at that.

“’re you hungry?” you offer sleepily, the words a bit slurred and strung together. “Do you want me to make you something?” Bradley is equal parts amused and endeared that you’re not even half way awake yet and wanting to look after him.

His sweet girl.

He presses an affectionate kiss on the back of your neck and wonders if you can feel his soft smile, the one that’s reserved for only you.

“Nah, I’m good,” he says, resting his chin on your shoulder, “I promise.”

He’d snagged a couple protein bars from the mess on base and had scarfed them down as he filled out his overdue flight logs. But also, there was no way he was getting out of this bed now that he was in it. Not for anything in the world.  

Bradley leans in close, letting his lips skim against your ear, “You know this could count as breaking and entering, kid. Always knew that good girl thing was just an act.”

You lightly tug on his hair. “I don’t think that would hold up in court of law seeing as you gave me a key and all,” you retort, you voice still low and raspy from sleep.

“I’m pretty sure I gave my best friend a key,” he drawls, teasingly, “Don’t remember giving my girlfriend one though.” He drops a kiss to your soft-cotton covered shoulder. The shirt you were wearing was one he’d completely forgotten about until you sent him that picture of you in bed sometime past 2am in the early days of when you’d started dating, before the two of you had sex for the first time. His name was printed on the back- right at the very top- along with all the other players on the Washington High Cardinals baseball team from the year they’d won the championship. “Think ‘m going to have to fix that.”

You shake your head amused into his pillow before looking at him from over your shoulder and turning to lean back into his chest. When your eyes meet, there’s nothing but fondness reflected in them. Yours is a face he’s known most of his life, he could read you as easily as any book, and it’s even more apparent just a few inches away from his just how happy you are to see him.

He slides a hand around the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek as he drinks you in. His eyes travel over your forehead, and along the curve of your cheekbones, and down the bridge of your nose, and lands on the dimples framing your smile.

thereyouarethereyouare

Bradley dips down to kiss you for the first time in a week. Your lips part easily, like you’ve been waiting for this too. There’s no rush. Your kiss is slow like honey off a spoon. Just as sweet as it’s meant to be savored. And there’s no doubt in his mind that this was always how it was supposed to be.

You and him.

Him and you.

Together.

“Hi, sweet girl,” he says, warmly.

“Hi, Bradley.” You tilt your head up for another kiss, one he has no intention withholding from you. “I missed you.”

It’s a new feeling for him, knowing he has someone to miss him when he is away. And having someone to miss in return. It’s been a long time since he’s had that in any real way that truly mattered. Bradley knows he’s due for a deployment soon, one that’ll take him from you- from this bed- for months. He’s already found the perfect thing to give you for when he leaves, something to show you how he’ll be thinking of you. But he doesn’t want to dwell on that inevitable reality.

For now, he just wants to share your warmth and focus on the feel of you pressed against him. Enjoying the luxury of getting to have this with you.

He just lets himself hold you the way you deserve to be held. He lets himself kiss you the way you deserve to be kissed. He’ll love you the way you deserve to be loved for as long as you’ll have him.

“I missed you too.” Whispering your name because he likes feel of it in his mouth.

“I think I was having a dream about you,” you murmur against his lips.

Bradley grins. “Yeah? Was it dirty?” You laugh in response, it’s his favorite sound. Happy. You make him so damn happy. He buries his face in the nook where your neck meets your shoulder and breathes you in. Lavender and cedar. Your favorite lotion to put on before bed, and something of his that he can’t put his finger on. “Mm, you smell good.”

“I took a shower before bed, used your body wash,” you tell him, running your hand along his arm. He senses you smile before he hears it. “And you smell like Jake.”

He groans and rubs the coarse hairs of his mustache against the soft skin of your neck. You giggle and try to squirm away from his prickly retaliation, but he’s got you basically pinned to the bed now. All your perfect curves against his firm angles.

“I can’t believe he’s still using a black ice tree air freshener like a damn sixteen-year-old,” Bradley grumbles. As if him and Seresin hadn’t spent enough quality time together over the week, now he was basically in bed with him and his girlfriend.

“At least you’ll know what to get him for his birthday,” you offer less than helpfully, playfully nudging his foot with yours.

Bradley chuckles and props himself up on an arm to gaze at you. He can feel the need for sleep settling over him, the long day and the longer week catching up with him that now he’s home and here with you. He can tell you’re drowsy too from the dewy way you’re blinking at him, and appreciative that you’re indulging him in this bit of pillow talk. In the quiet of his bedroom, he admits, “I went to your apartment first.”

You look almost bashful when you say, “I like these sheets better.” Both of you know that’s not your real answer for why you’re in his bed instead of yours.

He lifts an eye brow, meaningfully. “You have the same ones at your place.” Bradley knows because he made sure to check and buy the same kind for his own bed.

“Semantics,” you reply, breezily. Although he catches a hint of a pleased smile before you lean into trail a few kisses along the underside of his jaw. “Do you want your side of the bed back?” you ask.

“It’s our bed, sweet girl. You can sleep wherever you want,” Bradley says, “I’m good just as long as I can hold my girl.”

You thumb at the dimple of his chin, gazing up at him, “Have you gotten much sleep this week?”

Bradley just hums in response.

The softest of looks coast over your face. Understanding, sympathy, tenderness. It’s all there painted on your face from the little furrow between your eyebrows to the thoughtful search in your eyes as you read his face in return. He didn’t even say a word and you’ve got him figured out.

You tug on his arm and turn back over, taking him with you. Snuggling in so that your body is cradled closer to his, his chest all but pressed against your back. He slides his arm under your pillow and finds your other hand, threading his larger fingers between your own.

He situates your pillow beneath his head, sighing as he gets comfortable on the supportive mattress. He runs his palm over the familiar dip of your waist as you stretch and burrow in further, getting ready to go back to sleep. His fingertips find the edge of your cotton underwear and he follows it over your hip and along the side of your stomach, slipping one under the band to stroke at the soft skin near your hipbone.

It's the same spot where he’d find you butterflies if the two of you weren’t reversed from the way you usually fall asleep facing the other direction. Their location was a pinpoint in his mind, memorized from the moment he’d seen them that very first night together. He liked imagining he could feel the delicate lines of them under his fingertips as he drifted to sleep.

He hears the almost inaudible catch of your breath at his touch. “In the morning,” he promises.

You make a half-hearted noise of dissatisfaction, already well on your way to falling back asleep. He feels more than a little self-satisfied that he’s the one getting these reactions from you, that you want his touch just as much as he wants yours.

“Tease.” You nestle in closer, your ass brushing against his cock in a way that leaves no question it had been done on purpose.

“Menace,” he chuckles, lightly.

You hum, a pleased sound and reach for his wrist, removing temptation for the both of you and slide his hand beneath your shirt right to the very spot above your bellybutton where he normal finds its drifted to during the night on the mornings he wakes up with you in his arms.

The two of you fit together better than he ever could have possibly imagined.

“Hey, kid, what’re you doing tomorrow? I wanted to take you to breakfast.”

“To the place with the banana pancakes?”

Kisses the crown of your head, and he thinks he hears you sigh. “Wherever you want.”

“I could get away with a little hooky,” you yawn, “Maybe we could go to the beach too. Wanna spend the day with you.”

Bradley pulls you in closer, and closes his eyes. “Sounds like a plan.”

“I can’t wait.” It’s more of a sleepy mumble than anything else, but he’s already looking forward to waking up.

He listens as your breathing slowly evens out, knowing when you’ve fully drifted off. It didn’t take you long, the way it never seems to when he’s in bed beside you.

Maybe one day soon he’ll get to have you here with him every night. But until then, this is more than enough, he’s happy to fall asleep with his dream girl tucked on his arm.

Bradley lets himself imagine the day where you come and stay and it’s for good this time, because all of your clothes are in the closet and your mail gets delivered along with his.

And it won’t be just his favorite dream, it’ll be his reality.

I will never not be down bad for a smitten Bradley Bradshaw! Thank you to @yourlocalcringydaydreamer for sending the ask that inspired this soft fic!

Thank you for reading!

You can read more about these two or check out all of my stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted  @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange 

[burningembers91]

Loving You From Afar - Park Gyeong-Seok x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Park Gyeong-Seok is in love with you. But his life isn't one he thinks you'd want to share. If only he opened his eyes, he might realise that you loved him too.

Warnings: depictions of cancer, Park Gyeong-Seok's daughter is sick, Reader and Gyong-Seok are lovesick fools, 18+only!

The past few years hadn’t been easy for Park Gyeong-Seok. His marriage to who he thought was the love of his life, and the subsequent birth of his beautiful baby girl should have been a turning point in his life. But sadly, fate had other plans. Na-Yeon had been born prematurely, the doctors uncertain whether she would make it through the night. But his daughter, she was one hell of a fighter, and she pulled through. It hadn’t been plain sailing, her early birth leaving her sickly and frail. Gyeong-Seok never lost hope, he never gave up on the tiny life he cradled to sleep every night. His wife on the other hand, she found it hard to cope. Being a mother wasn’t what she thought it would be, and she wasn’t equipped to deal with a child who needed round the clock care. A few months after Na-Yeon was born, her mother left in the middle of the night. Gyeong-Seok had spent months trying to track her down, but she didn’t want to be found.  

 His dream of opening his own art studio came to screeching halt, and he found himself taking any and every job he could to keep his daughter fed and sheltered. He eventually found himself at an amusement park, painting tourists for less than the price of a cup of coffee. It wasn’t a well-paying job, but Na-Yeon loved spending every day there, watching the characters in their costumes, laughing as they paraded through the park. Her health was in decline again, cancer ravaging her already broken body. But she was so strong, so happy, and that was what kept Gyeong-Seok going. When he could no longer afford their two-bedroom apartment, he moved to a smaller one-bedroom place, giving his daughter the bedroom while he made do with the sofa bed.

That was where he’d met you; the beautiful girl who lived across the hall. The one Na-Yeon spoke of all day every day. you were the one who made him laugh on the days he felt like crying, who took Na-Yeon out for ice cream when he needed a rest or bought her colouring books and toys when he was struggling to keep her entertained. You had such a way with his daughter, and your presence was one that calmed him immediately. It was you who had crocheted the strawberry hat his little girl never took off, something to keep her warm when the chemo took her hair. If you didn’t enjoy looking after Na-Yeon, you never complained. You always had a smile on your face, always had a positive word for him.

He'd fallen hopelessly in love with you over the last eight months, but you would never want to be with him. He could barely afford to keep a roof over his daughter’s head. he couldn’t take you out on dates, or buy you jewellery, or whisk you on a weekend away. Na-Yeon’s treatment took every penny he earned, and there were nights when he couldn’t afford to feed the both of them, so he went hungry. He never asked you for anything, never complained, and yet you seemed to sense his desperation. You’d bring food round every now and again, enough to last them a few days. He would never be able to find a way to repay you for your kindness, would never be able to articulate just how much you meant to him.

He's drawn and painted you probably a dozen times, but he could never get the courage up to give you any of his creations. Your beauty couldn’t compare to his artwork, your kindness could never fully shine through on the paper. Some nights, you’d sit together in his apartment, Na-Yeon sleeping in the bedroom next door. Your fingers would graze each other’s as you watched TV, your knees would bump together under the blanket you cozied under for warmth. You’d smile at him, and he’d smile back, but it never went further than that. You deserved someone who could buy you nice things, who could take you places Gyeong-Seok would only ever be able to dream of.  

The paintings of you stayed tucked out of sight, just like his feelings for you. there were nights he’d lie on the tiny sofa bed, the springs digging into his back, and he’d think about you. He wondered how it would feel to be able to love you, to be able to cuddle up next to you each night, not on a broken sofa bed, but in a plush King size bed with silk sheets. He wondered if his pillows would smell like your perfume, whether you’d smile when he woke you up every morning with a kiss. He wondered if Na-Yeon would grow up to think of you as her mother, turning to you for advice about hair, boys and other things dads didn’t have the privilege of knowing about.  

No one wanted a poor painter though, who had holes in his clothes and a daughter who needed constant care. He didn’t want to be a burden, didn’t want to make your life hard. You were so kind, so caring, and so full of life. He would be content loving you from afar, relishing the friendship you gave him and his daughter.

You wished Gyeong-Seok could see how amazing he was. He was a man broken by circumstances beyond his control, dealt a shitty hand of cards by life. you’d loved him from the moment you met him, carrying his daughter to the apartment across the hall from you as she giggled. He worked so hard to provide for them and you wished you could do more to help. You didn’t want to seem like you were pitying him, because you weren’t. life may have kicked him, but Gyeong-Seok wouldn’t stay down. He was the strongest, most resilient person you’d ever met, and you loved both him and Na-Yeon more than anything in the world. The nights you spent with him, watching TV under the blanket were so precious to you. you thought there might have been something between the two you of, but Gyeong-Seok would only ever smile, and turn his face away. you would be content to love him from afar and cherish every moment you spent with him.

You watched him now, painting a picture of the Seoul skyline while you crocheted a matching strawberry sweater for Na-Yeon, who was fast asleep beside you. You met each other’s eyes, the two of you smiling. Not realising just how much you meant to each other.

[littlegrapejuice]

Flatline | LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando parties a bit too hard and needs to be patched up. Luckily, he can count on a pretty nurse.

Author's Note: I'M BACK MFS🙂‍↕️ it's been a while haha but enjoy this lil lando fic that was inspired by the song Flatline by 5sos!! Also happy new year hehe, hope everyone is doing good and i wish y'all the best for 2025🫶🏻

F1 MASTERLIST🏎

King’s Day 2024. Amsterdam, Netherlands.

Amongst all the drivers, people would’ve thought Max Verstappen the most prone to be sighted in public while celebrating his country on its national day. However, the one that was currently trending on social media was Lando Norris. Pictures as well as videos were being posted, reposted, and commented on every second. No one had expected Lando to spend the weekend away in the Netherlands in between two grand prix. But here he was, partying on a boat and even DJ-ing along with his good friend Martin Garrix.

Lando didn’t know whether people just didn’t care about him – seeing as the Netherlands were the home of one of the greatest drivers of the current generation – or if people actually didn’t know him. In any case, he was glad not to be disturbed by fans – even though he loved them – and be able to enjoy the day the same way everyone else was doing it: by partying, dancing, singing, and drinking.

Obviously, Lando was planning to be careful as he knew that his PR team would have his head if he did something stupid during his two-week break. But still, he was having fun like a typical twenty-four year old. He was having the time of his life. Dutch people definitely knew how to party on their national day, that’s for sure.

…..

A few hours later however, what everyone hadn’t been expecting was for Lando to end the day with bandages all over his face. As the surprise of him being in the Netherlands settled down after a while, pictures and videos stopped circulating around. Until fans all over the world were met with images of Lando with a bloody nose, a smile still on his face. People had no idea what had happened. No context had been given, only the speculation of Lando having drunk and partied too hard that he had hurt himself.

Fortunately for him, Lando had been able to count on you. Being a friend of a friend, you loosely knew Martin but had never really exchanged more than a few words with him. However, he was currently glad that the invitation to his boat party had managed to reach you as you were qualified to take care of Lando’s battle wound – his words. Being a nurse, and the only one with some medical knowledge on the boat, you had quickly reacted when people had started panicking after seeing Lando’s face starting to bleed.

To be honest, people had overreacted a bit. Because when you approached Lando to see the extent of the damage, you realised it was only a cut albeit the consequence of some glass. So although he wasn’t hurt very badly, you still suggested bringing him into the hospital where you worked. Obviously, Lando had refused at first as he pretended that everything was fine. He was. But just to be sure, you needed to give him a general check-up in a clean location as a random boat in Amsterdam wasn’t exactly the most hygienic place to patch someone up.

So after Martin also agreed to the idea, Lando had no choice but to listen to his friend and go with you. The Dutch told Lando that he would come get him later as he needed to bring his DJ equipment back home – he promised to be ready to give him a ride back from the hospital later on as he knew that Lando had a flight the next day. This is thus how you found yourself in a cab with none other than Formula One driver Lando Norris on the way to your workplace. Truth be told, you hadn’t expected to go there today. But you knew it was part of your job to be able to help anyone in need even if you were on your day off.

The ride had mostly been silent. Lando had been on his phone, probably texting a few people about his whereabouts, while you were focused on the next steps to do when you’d be arriving at the hospital. You were pleasantly surprised when Lando paid the driver without a second thought and told him to keep the change.

“I could’ve paid, you know. Thanks,” you told him as you entered the building.

“You’re taking care of me on what definitely seemed like your day off, so that’s the least I can do for you.” Lando smiled at you and even with the bandages around his face, he was still very good-looking.

“Still, I appreciate it. You can go wait in this room if that’s okay?” He nodded and you finished explaining what would happen next. “I just need to inform my manager I’m here, get some stuff for a small check-up, and then I’m all yours. I won’t be long.”

“Sounds perfect”, Lando replied with a grin.

True to your words, you were back in the room where you’d left the Brit less than ten minutes later. He noticed that you’d changed into your uniform – which you’d been lucky to have a spare here as your usual one was at your flat – and enjoyed the view of observing you in your element. Working in the medical field was your calling, and you didn’t see yourself anywhere else.

First, you removed the bandages that you’d wrapped around Lando’s face earlier before you cleaned up the small wound – properly this time, with adequate material. As Lando winced when you disinfected it, you apologised.

“Does it hurt much?” You asked.

“Not really”, he shrugged. “Just uncomfortable I guess.”

“Hmm, okay”, you nodded. “Tell me if there’s anything else at any point.”

Quickly finishing up, you were soon enough putting a band-aid on Lando’s nose. You debated offering to put a silly one originally designed for kids, but decided otherwise as you didn’t want to look weird for suggesting it. However, the driver had noticed your eyes drifting to them when you’d hesitated in which one to take, so he spoke up:

“You think you could actually give me one of those”, he wondered with a smile before adding. “The cute ones, there.”

When you saw that he was pointing at the Disney ones, you stiffled a laugh. You hadn’t expected him to directly ask for one himself, but you were kinda glad that he did. Amongst the different characters present, your choice was easily made.

“I guess that the Cars one caught your eye?” You raised an eyebrow, waiting to see if you were right.

“Bingo!” He laughed. “I’ll admit that Frozen was tempting but I gotta stay true to my roots.”

“Fair enough”, you chuckled. “Your job ain’t really much to do with building ice castles, or I’ve done my research wrong.”

“You looked me up?” Lando asked, the surprise obvious in his tone.

“Well, yeah?” You answered with a ‘duh’ tone as you gently put the Cars band-aid over the plain one you’d previously applied. “Even though the whole country supports Max and not many people care about the other drivers, I gotta know about the competition.”

“You think I’m competition to Max?”

“Of course! Anyone is: as long as Max isn’t the only driver racing on track, he has competition.”

Your explanation made Lando’s grin widen as he was glad to be considered in the same league as the Max Verstappen, especially by someone who lived in the Netherlands. To you, any other driver that had managed to be a part of the twenty that raced in Formula One was a good one – Lando included.

“He does have three more championship titles than me though”, Lando stated. “And God knows how many wins.”

“He’s had a good car for years,” you pointed out. “Your time will come, don’t worry. I can feel the papaya greatness for this year – though if I ever wear orange, it’s for Max.”

Not knowing what to reply to your words, Lando simply nodded while you put away the box of band-aids. You thought about the final steps of your check-up, and turned back to face the driver.

“Okay, so I’ll just put this on your finger to see your heart rate and then I’ll make you do a breathalyser if that’s alright with you?”

“Yeah, no problem. Do your job, don’t worry.”

“Great, thanks.” You carefully clipped the pulse oximeter on Lando’s finger before stepping away. “I'll be right back in a minute.”

“Take your time,” Lando replied. “I’m not going anywhere.”

When you left the room, the Brit let out the biggest sigh of his life. Oh God, he thought. It seemed like you hadn’t realised how close you’d been to Lando as you were only focused on doing your job, but he hadn’t been able to take his eyes away from you. He really hoped you hadn’t noticed anything, as the last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable at your workplace. Get a grip, Lando told himself while waiting for you to be back. Don’t fuck this up if you want a chance.

You came back into the room shortly after, a box in your hands – which Lando assumed to be the breathalyser. He knew he had drunk enough that he wouldn’t be allowed to drive, but he hoped he had sobered up enough after his trip to the hospital. After unboxing the breathalyser, you got close to Lando again and explained to him what he’d have to do.

“Nothing too complicated, don't worry. You’ll just have to exhale into this.” You showed him the object. “And I’ll tell you when to stop. Then, you’ll be good to go!”

Lando nodded in reply, even though he hadn’t really paid attention to the actual words you’d said. He had been more focused on your face and the way you’d gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. He almost wished he’d been the one to do it, and he wondered if it was the remains of alcohol in his blood making him think that. He also wondered if he would still be attracted to you if he had met you while stone cold sober. But when you gave him a soft reassuring smile as you told him to be ready to blow into the breathalyser, he knew he would find you gorgeous no matter his state of mind.

What he didn’t know though, is if it was the alcohol or his attraction to you that was making his heart faster – both, to be honest. The result was the same: the machine was showing his heart rate quickening and Lando could perfectly hear it echoing in his head, which made his eyes widen at the thought that you would hear it too. Lando’s heart rate was actually the least of your worries as you were focused on the current task of measuring the level of alcohol in his blood, but it became the most important barely two seconds later when you heard the continuing beep that usually meant the lack of heartbeat.

“Your heart is going flatline!” You exclaimed in shock as you tried to quickly assess how Lando looked in order to find the cause. “Oh my God… oh my God, what the fuck is happening?!”

And while you were panicking, Lando realised that he had made a grave mistake. See, as he still wasn’t back to his normal state of mind, the driver thought that it was a wonderful idea to just remove the pulse oximeter from his finger so that you wouldn’t have noticed his heart rate speeding. But of course, you had immediately noticed the lack of constant beep from the machine and were currently still stressing – breathalyser completely forgotten.

Seeing your panicked state, Lando was now feeling extremely guilty and decided to come clean.

“I’m fine!” He was almost shouting. Hearing his voice made you stop in your tracks, and you looked at him with worry in your eyes. “Sorry”, he apologised. “I accidentally removed the thing, please calm down. I’m not dead.”

“Oh”, you could only answer. You felt awkward now. “That’s good, then.” You scratched your neck and nervously laughed. “It’s weird, it shouldn’t come off that easily unless it’s forcibly removed. Sorry if I gave you one that wasn’t properly working.”

And this was his last straw. Lando was now feeling even guiltier at your words, as you were going to blame yourself for using seemingly faulty equipment.

“Please don’t be mad, but… I-actually-removed-it-myself”, he said as quickly as he could.

“What?” You questioned with a tilt of your head.

“I removed the heart thingy myself because I didn’t want you to hear my heart rate.”

“Lando, that’s my job?”

“Yeah, but like…” He didn’t know what else to say, except for the truth – thank the alcohol for giving him the confidence to utter the next words. “I was just thinking about you, and you were looking super pretty while explaining stuff, and I wasn’t really paying attention to be honest, but then I felt like my heartbeat was going really fast, and you’d hear it, and you’d think I’m like weird, and–”

“Oh God, Lando calm down!” You put your hands on his shoulders so that he would look at you instead of the floor, and meeting your eyes silenced him. “You’re good, don’t explain yourself. I know that you’re not completely sober yet so your mind might make you do weird things. I’m just glad you’re alright and not suddenly a victim of a heart attack.”

“I don’t want you to see me as a crazy drunk guy right now!” He retorted, trying to clear his name. “Even sober, I’d think the same. Maybe not do the same stupid shit though…” He muttered the last sentence.

Silence now filled the room as you removed your hands from Lando and put them in your pockets before sighing. You tried to assess the situation and process his words. You’d had your fair share of people complimenting you in your workplace so Lando’s feelings weren’t that unusual, but it was still rare to end up in this type of situation. You thought for a minute about what to do while Lando stayed quiet. He was scared of dumb words leaving his mouth, so he didn’t want to take any more risks.

“Tell you what”, you caught his attention. “We finish this up, I clear you free to go, and maybe we can start over when you’re not my patient anymore. Sounds good?”

Still not trusting his words, Lando simply nodded. You then kept going with the last steps of your check-up before announcing to Lando that he was discharged. He had surprisingly sobered up quicker than you would’ve thought – maybe because of the heart rate incident – and his alcohol level wasn’t as high as you’d imagined it to be.

You walked him back to the entrance hall and asked him if Martin was here to get him. He briefly checked his phone and noticed a couple texts from the Dutch that were notifying him of his arrival in a few minutes. You therefore decided to wait with Lando, having all the time in the world – it was still your day off and you knew that the hospital wasn’t understaffed today, so there was no need for you to stay and give a hand.

As you were waiting in an excruciatingly awkward silence, Lando chose to man up and clear the previous situation up.

“I still think you’re beautiful,” he stated. “And I’d love to get to know you,” he added. “I know I’m not fully sober yet, but I’m almost there and my thoughts haven’t changed.”

“That’s good to know”.

“Good as in positive for me to shoot my shot?” Lando wondered with a nervous smile.

“You can try, I think your chances of success are pretty high right now.”

“Great.” His grin widened, and you couldn’t help thinking about how he was currently the beautiful one. “So, can we go out together one day? I know this great restaurant that my wonderful local friends told me about.”

“That’d be my pleasure”, you replied.

“When do you finish work?” He asked, even though he knew the answer.

“I’m actually done…” You feigned to analyse the time on your watch. “Right now. What a coincidence!”

“Coincidence indeed”, Lando agreed. He then took out his phone and gave it to you. “I’ll text you the location?”

“Sure”, you nodded. “Maybe not a full meal tonight, but I’m still down for a drink and snacks.”

“Works for me. Raincheck for a proper date then?”

“Come back for it once you have a race win under your belt”, you challenged.

“Deal”, he accepted. “I have really good motivation.”

“Tell you what, you can also get a wish if it’s the next race that you win.”

“A wish? Anything?” You nodded and Lando thought about ideas. “Kiss on the first date?”

“Alright, you’re on!” You sealed the deal with a handshake, a playful glint in your eyes.

Merely a couple seconds later, Martin was pulling up in front of the hospital which was yours and Lando’s cue to go your separate ways before meeting soon again.

…..

A week later following your semi-date with Lando, you were now watching him celebrate his first win on the top step of the podium in Miami. You couldn’t be prouder of him, and your first thought was to text him as soon as you saw him go back to his garage. You hoped that he’d have access to his phone soon enough and quickly drafted a message to congratulate him. Right before you sent it, your wish – and eventually his in the process – seemed to have been granted.

Flying back to you next weekend before imola

I’m expecting a welcome kiss👀

You chuckled at his texts, a blush appearing on your cheeks as you thought about how he was still serious about you, and deleted your initial message before sending a new one.

Wouldn’t have it any other way

Congratulations race winner! Can’t wait for the next ones, I knew your time was coming🧡

If Lando never imagined that being hurt could lead to him bagging a pretty nurse and getting his first Formula One win, he was now thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to get a small wound before each race if it meant that you would take care of him and that he’d be lifting the winner’s trophy afterwards.

..........

Hope y'all liked this ^^ idk if it's common knowledge on here but I'm a HUGE 5sos fan and when i recently heard flatline after a while, i knew i had to write smth f1 related for this song (esp the chorus)

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated if you enjoy my writing<3 it means a lot to me and i love knowing what people think - apart from my bestie who's often my #1 fan haha

See you next time, take care🤍

[limarkova]

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader x Yandere Al Ghuls

Pt 2.

Prev Next

*Author's note: OMG. Thank you guys so much for all the engagement on the first part. I didn’t think my first post would get that much reaction. Also yes I am spree writing this is! If you notice a mistake let me know. PS, the school named in this chapter is fictional and does not exist in the real world.

Alfred listened to the ringing phone line waiting for Bruce to answer. Seeing Miss (Name) in the hallway had been a surprise. He was fairly certain she was supposed to be away at Miss Rose's Boarding School for Young Woman in STEM. After two years of studying in the UK it was strange to have her appear without any notice. Especially since she hadn't visited or sent word in the past.

"Hello Alfred." The line stopped ringing and Alfred was greeted by Bruce.

"Master Bruce. Have you gotten any word from (Name)'s School about a sudden break in the school year?"

"No, why?" Alfred narrowed his eyes at the phone. Well that didn't make sense. Surely her school would notify them if she left.

Alfred began going through his memories. When was the last time Miss Rose's had called the manor? He couldn't seem to recall, they did have the manor's house number on file. "Well she just arrived at the manor and get into a bit of a scuffle with Master Damian. He thought she was an intruder and because I didn't know about her return I couldn't inform him about her in advance. Thankfully she seems unharmed but that was not a good foot to start their sibling relationship on."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "That’s odd, we should have received some kind of notice. Alfred can you call Miss Rose's to see what's going on. I'll wrap up business here quickly and be on the next flight home."

"I will see to it sir." The phone call ended. As Alfred began looking for the correct number to call next, Dick came into the room.

"Hey Alfred, why didn't you tell me baby bird was coming back?" Dick gestured behind him towards the kitchen.

Alfred shook his head slightly, typing in the school's name on Google. "I was not aware she was returning today."

Dick blinked twice, "Wait, what? Her school is in Australia, how did she get on an international flight with no one being aware of it?"

"Her school isn't in Australia." Alfred's eyebrows scrunched together. Dick's mouth made an 'o' shape before clamping into a thin line. Alfred narrowed his eyes at the look before correcting Dick, "Her school is in Birmingham, UK."

"Right, right. Umm, still though how did she get back here without anyone being notified. Even than it's the middle of October, shouldn't classes still be in session." Dick placed his hand to his chin. His eyes took on the focus look he got when he was working on a case or solving a puzzle. Alfred finally got the number written down. Dick looked up at Alfred. There was this dawning look on his face, "Hey Alfred."

"Yes Master Dick."

"Something is really wrong here, we need to keep an eye on her."

Alfred nodded listening to another phone line ringing in his ear, "I agree."

You had to come up with a plan. Escaping the facilities hadn't happened because of rash promises of passion. No it took a year of observation, planning, and waiting. It took you learning every detail that had been place in front of you. Yes you had emotions and gave yourself little dramatic moments but you can't live there.

You grabbed an abandoned notebook on your desk. It was covered in stickers with the first three pages being scribbled on. You ripped them out before beginning to write out everything you knew about the facilities. One they had access to all kinds of medical equipment but it was older equipment that struggled to work sometimes. Two the gaurds were heavily arm with scratched up weapons. The scratching was probably where the serial numbers would've been. Third they had issues getting supplies from a Sionis. Fourth it was based in Gotham evidenced by you being able to find the manor days after escape.

On the next page you wrote out your family member's names. You also add in the new people, Duke Thomas and Damian Wayne. You had written down Talia but stopped to think for a minute.

Yes, your father had likely cheated on your mom with her. But did that make her guilty of destroying your mom's romance? Did she even know about your mother? Maybe your mom was the reason she left causing that line in your mother's diary. Even than you need to focus on the experiments. You could worry about your mother's betrayal later. You scratched Talia off the list.

When you flipped to the next page, there was a soft knock on your door. It creaked open revealing Duke. He offered you a soft smile as he poked his head into your room. "Hey, are you doing okay?"

You looked him up and down. Duke was new to manor and you still couldn't tell if he was visiting or lived here now. A small part of you questioned if he knew about your kidnapping. Did any of your siblings actually know what happeneded or had Bruce just told them the boarding school lie? Did he plan to do it to them too once you proved a success?

You turned back to your notebook scribbling the questions. You'd need to look into during your investigation, "I'm fine."

"I heard about Damian attacking you in the hallway." Duke inched into your room. You turned back a page and underlined Damian's name. Even if he had nothing to do with your suspicions about your father, you were not going let him act like him towards you. Duke chuckled nervously behind you, prompt you to close the book. Can't have them finding out... yet. "Is there someway I can maybe cheer you up? I mean you're clearly upset about something and I want to help if I possibly can?"

He continued to ramble on. You looked around your room as he talked. Eyes landing on your closet you had a slight realization. In your time at the experiments, you had grown. They may have torture you but they hadn't starved you. After all they need you healthy to ensure 'proper' results. The only clothes you had that fit you were probably the ones you were wearing. "Actually there is something."

"Oh! Yeah, what do you need?" Duke smiled brightly. It was as if his teeth were glowing with inner light. If your siblings and by proxy Duke had been told a lie, playing along with it would be smart. After all planning and observing meant staying unnoticed. You offer an unsure smile hoping it would play into what you were saying, "It's a long story but I left the boarding school in a hurry so I completely forgot to pack clothes."

"Okay." Duke made a weird face. Crap, that's not good.

"Yeah and I had a grow spurt so, most of my clothes here don't fit me anymore." You rubbed the back of your neck. Duke's face shifted into realization at your words. Crisis averted for now. You plowed ahead to keep him from asking about the school, making up a lie was not a good idea right now when you knew nothing about theirs. "I need to go clothes shopping. Can you take me to the mall?"

"Of course. What time did you want to go?" Duke made an awkward finger gun gesture towards. He looked tense. Not the tense you saw from the gaurds when you started pressing the line. It was more like the intern in the experiments who never looked at you directly.

You grabbed your notebook and stood. There's was a small backpack by your desk. You slid the book in before sling the bag over your shoulder, "Can we go now?"

"Yeah, let me just stop by my room to grab my keys and wallet." Duke held the door open for you. The walk to his room was quiet and slightly tense.

When he stopped at a door on the second floor you couldn't stop yourself from blurting, "So, you live here?"

"Oh yeah." He walked into the- his room. There were a few posters and some knick knacks on the few bookcases. More importantly there were moving boxes in the corner. Some of them were disassembled but a few were still intact with clothes scattered around them. In fact most of the room was covered in stary papers, clothes, etc. Duke grimaced, "Haha, I just moved in two months ago. Let's agree to not tell Alfred about the mess."

"He probably already knows and is silently judging you." A nervous laugh bubbled out of your stomach. The information swirled inside of you uneasily. Two months was awhile but not long in the grand scheme of things. Plus if Alfred didn't mention you than Duke probably didn't know anything. That would make him innocent in your kidnapping.

"Ahh here they are!" Duke's voice broke you out of the mixed up thoughts in your head. He was holding a silver chain with a dark brown wallet and several keys hanging from it. In his search he had basically ripped apart his laundry basket. He kicked the mess back towards the now mostly empty basket, "You ready?"

"Yeah. Can we get something to eat well we're out?" You felt ridiculous asking. It was another stark reminder of how normal everything but you felt.

Yet Duke didn't hesitate to smile at you and offer his hand, "Heck yeah. There's this awesome pizza place in the mall the serves the biggest slices I've ever seen."

"I don't remember the last time I had pizza."

"No way! Let's go, we need to get you a slice ASAP. This is a pizza emergency." Maybe you could make a new normal with him. Once you destroyed the experiments. Duke Thomas was officially off your list for now.

Something had shifted in Duke. He remembered asking his parents for a little sibling when he was four maybe five. They had kissed him on the forehead and told him that they didn't need another kid when they had a perfect one in front them. It had made him feel happy for a little bit but he always held that small hope.

He thought he would get that with Damian. To a degree he did but it didn’t feel right. Damian was too competitive and strong willed. Duke didn't feel like a big brother, he felt like a contestant at worst, a good friend at best.

Taking (Name) to the mall today had made him feel like a big brother. Seeing her slowly relax around him and get excited over tiny things. Like the cute dress at Justice, the pizza slice that was as big as her head, and the look on her face when she saw Barnes & Noble. He probably spent his whole allowance for the week but he didn't care. He had made his little sister happy.

They had one last stop to make before going home, Claire's. Duke insisted that she look around well he grabbed something. He went straight to friendship necklaces. There were quite a few to choose from. Crystals, Cats, The Wicked Musical. Than he saw it. Two pastel tie-dye koalas hugging each, it was perfect. Duke immediately grabbed it before going to find her.

That's when he noticed something was wrong. She was staring at something and shaking violently. The look in her eyes told him that she had gone off somewhere else mentally. He looked towards what she was looking at to see the piercing station.

There was an attendant cleaning off a newly open needle. The smell of alcohol wipes and disinfectant clear in air. He placed himself in between her and sight. "What’s wrong, kiddo?"

"I wanna go home." (Name) didn't speak above a tight whisper. Something in Duke began howling. This was wrong, she shouldn't be scared. He was there to protect her.

"Okay, but first I need you to tell me something. Where are you?" Duke tried to remember what they do for Jason when he gets like this. Fuck why was it so hard to remember grounding right now.

"I don't like needles." Her eyes flicked to his. They were wide and blaring with barely contained rage.

"That’s okay, but I need you to tell me where we are." Her eyes narrowed and her mouth tighten. He continued on, "I need to know you're here with me. Mentally."

"The Mall."

"We can go." Duke grabbed her hand gently. They paid and left. Once they were in the car, she relaxed again. Duke palmed the necklace in his hand. He had taken it out of the package. His own necklace was already around his neck.

She was staring out the window. The look in her eyes made Duke pause. She was watching the setting sun like it was first time she was seeing it. Mute awe painted her face like a classical painting. Duke pulled the little koala out of his pocket, "Hey, I got you something."

"Is it half the back seat?" She looked behind her to the bags. Barnes & Noble, The Childern's Place, Justice, and Build-a-Bear. Four places that equated to Five separate bags. Duke snorted before bursting out laughing.

"No. Jeez no, it's this." He held out the little koala necklace to her. Her eyes looked towards his own chest, where the other koala already hung. A friendship necklace. She took it into her hands gently. That classical painting look returning, mixes of sentimental joy and some unnamed human emotion that was baffling.

"Thank you, Duke."

"It's no problem." Duke wrapped his arm around her in an weird side hug over the center console. He had always wanted a little sibling and now that he had one he was never to going let her go.

"We might want to get back to manor before curfew." (Name) pointed to the digital display announcing 6:15pm. Duke cursed, shoving his keys into the ignition. She began to laugh hysterical. The manor was two hours away and 'curfew' aka patrol debrief was at 7pm. Duke flew out of the parking lot with manically laughing ten-year-old.

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@stove-top96 @00hellohello00 @mysticalhills

[swaqcenix]

༻ Stardust of your soul | N. Romanoff ༺

Natasha Romanoff x gn!reader

Summary: Being new to SHIELD and it's agents you'd always kept yourself to yourself & hovered in the background. Yet a new chapter opens up when being invited to the compound for 'team bonding,' and it turns out another star shined just as you did without even knowing. Simply the trust to fall asleep on another's lap really does open up the deepest of souls.

Warnings: None! Just pure fluff & sentiment of how Natasha falls asleep on your lap..

Pairings: Natasha romanoff x gn!reader, sort of black cat x golden retriever (ish?)

Word Count: 3.8K

DC: cafekitsune

AN: I don't know where I got this idea from, but I wanted to get back to writing again, so I figured some soft reading of Natasha falling asleep on the reader's lap by accident would cut it! <3 Might make a P2!

(also if ppl can teach me how to get a sapphic relationship-)

Walking through the halls of the building always seemed daunting when you worked for SHIELD. It wasn't like you feared anyone there, just everyone was so equipped and skilled- they'd been there for a good chunk of time. Many beginning their journey's with SHIELD years before yourself, forming bonds and friendships.

You were merely a baby taking their first steps within the walls of SHIELD headquarters, simply learning the ropes & where to start. Still, you were eager to always take on a challenge and being accepted as a SHIELD agent wasn't something you'd expect to happen, yet changing that decision to take on the role wasn't even a consideration for you.

A simple few weeks at the headquarters was all it took for you to slowly begin to feel more comfortable with the said environment. You'd spoken to Maria Hill the Deputy Director of SHIELD and while she could be intimidating, she and yourself shared views similar making it easy to get on. Fury was a little more on the complex side but some of the other agents you'd definitely enjoyed bonding with.

You'd been called in to a meeting for god knows what, but that was the generalised idea these days. Most agents yourself included never seemed to be informed prior of your missions only simply assigned upon the day. It did albeit stress you out given your organised schedule and how you felt with being thrown into the deepest ends of the pool was stressful.

However, when you dedicated your time and complete energy and effort within SHIELD's walls and work you had to be prepared for anything, without fail. You'd found yourself being so lost in thought with how you'd ended up in this role and position that you'd realised you'd come to a halt.

Seeing the door to Fury's office was a surprise to your eyes, having not realised you'd walked all that way. Slowly bracing yourself, your hand reached for the door handle before it was pulled open and Nick Fury himself stood there in the flesh.

"Come on in," His voice that always sent chills down your spine seemed warmer than usual today.

It did strike you as odd but you hardly had the time to think more of it. Instead you simply merely nodded entering the room at a gentle pace, before your shoes caused a loud squeak of a sudden stop.

Your eyes glanced around the room to see people you hardly ever thought you'd be in the same room with. The Avengers, the actual known hero's themselves sat around a table as their eyes slowly drifted up to study you.

Tony, Steve, Clint, Thor, Natasha, Bruce, Wanda, Rhodey & Sam. All of them were waiting for your arrival.

Natasha let out a soft smile at you nodding an approving look, which didn't surprise you at all. You'd become accustomed to the redhead while at SHIELD given her status and her ability to train new recruits which yourself was in fact one of them.

You'd never quite been able to read her fully, only knowing she had a closed off position about her, including the past everyone was forbidden to know of. All the recruits and fellow agents knew that it was a road nobody dared cross, including interacting with the redhead outside of working hours.

Standing there waiting for Fury or anyone to say something felt like an agonising amount of time & it was making the clock feeling like minutes were passing by. In reality, it was most likely to be mere seconds before Fury coughed and began to fill the silent room with his voice.

"So Y/N.. There's been some form of talk amongst myself and the Avengers," he began and you felt your body froze.

Without the intention of doing so, you glanced over at Natasha with concern and worry glazed over your eyes. Nobody else would recognise the small but clear look she gave to you, it was something you'd come to somewhat understand. She gave you a curt but firm nod and her eyes softened only for a moment but that moment was enough. It was okay.

You felt your shoulders and body language relax a tad as you nodded towards Director Fury to continue his conversation.

"We feel that.. we need a new member to work with the Avengers. Think of it as a new position a higher role. One that we thought you'd fit most well into. More like a team bonding so you'd say."

You gawked at the older man before shaking your head back to reality as it sunk into your brain and your bones. He thought you were the best for the role? You as in just someone from a town that had nothing now working along side the Avengers, more specifically her.

"M-Me? What, there has to be some sort of mistake. Director I don't know if I-" You began stuttering over your words.

While you did admire your strengths and abilities, it was a big step to be working with the earth's mightiest hero's. You certainly didn't want to make a fool out of yourself, however Fury decided to interrupt you.

"All due respect Y/L/N, it wasn't really a request. We need you on the team. The mission that's required is going to need all the assets and best that we've got. It's important," he stated firmly looking around the room at the Avengers before moving his gaze back to you.

"Director I-"

"They'll be trained and ready. I'll make sure of it," you heard her voice echo through the room with determination.

Your eyes drifted around the room landing onto her, staring at Natasha in pure shock and partial annoyance. You knew your own weaknesses and strengths and didn't need anyone speaking for you.

However, she simply stared back at you with a firm all serious look showing she wasn't backing down. Why was she so fixated on having you on the team? Her eyes changed ever so slightly and only for a moment looking at you with something you couldn't quite place. However, in a small blink just a tiny moment the look disappeared and her normal stoic expression was back.

"Thank you Agent Romanoff. Anything anyone else has to add?" He asked looking around the room with sheer authority.

Nobody seemed to speak, Tony flamboyantly flapping his hands up to speak for them. Clearly they weren't against having you on the team, you must be some important asset they required. With nobody speaking, you were all dismissed and the Avengers all fluttered out of the room.

All except one. Natasha stood leaning against the wall, half slouching her gaze fixated onto you. Head tilted in an almost questioning way towards you. Mirroring the action, you stared at the redhead inquisitive facial expressions painted on both of your faces.

Natasha cracked first, shifting off the wall walking towards you with her hands in her pockets, her signifying black leather jacket around her shoulders.

"You know, you should have more belief in yourself Y/N. We both know your abilities, I've witnessed them myself," she added her eyebrow arching.

"I.. You think so?" You managed to get out slowly.

Without a warning she leaned forward, whispering in your ear causing your body to stiffen. With her being this close you could smell her perfume, invading your senses like a warm blanket alluring you and drawing you in. The proximity of her was sending heat to your face and you knew her voice was sending shivers down your body.

"I know so sweetheart, I know so," she hushed out and if the floor was made of lava you'd melt right through it and into the ground beneath you.

Natasha was like a temptress, a woman who knew how to lull people in just with a few simple words. You knew this but still felt yourself floating towards the singing of the siren.

She stepped back smirking at you sending you a wink causing your heart to hammer against your chest. It was like she was looking into the depths of your soul and you were trying not to give her the key to opening your soul.

Just before she opened the door to exit the room she flung her body around to face you at an angle. The tension in the room was intense, dancing around you in a heavy feeling as she spoke.

"Training starts at 7. Don't be late sweetheart. I don't do late."

With that she left the room without allowing yourself to respond and you felt an internal groan bubbling inside of you. She was seeing into your soul now you needed to try and allow Natasha to let you see her own.

Tossing and turning at night in your bed whilst the minutes passed by seemed to be what was happening for you. The clock was ticking yet you were significantly restless especially knowing training started at 7am with Natasha wouldn't settle your mind to rest.

Her words played over and over again in your head, on a constant never ending loop. 'I know so sweetheart.' You couldn't remember the last time you had that much confidence running within your veins, let alone someone else. Yet, her voice ran through your mind, your soul almost touched by her belief.

Turns out you must have been laying there for that long tossing and turning throughout the night you'd managed to not succumb to a single ounce of sleep. That perhaps would come back to be biting you on the ass at some point today. Especially if you have training with Natasha.

As your head spun to view the clock next to the nightstand, elicting a loud groan from your lips. It read the time of 6:15AM. That's always your luck, never helping with the concept of you being the polar opposite of a morning person. If anyone was grouchy in the morning it would always be yourself.

Flinging the covers off yourself, grudgingly, you found your legs dragging themselves to the bathroom to have a shower, the need to freshen and wake up becoming excruciatingly stronger by the minute.

The water cascaded down your body, a soft sigh leaving your lips. It warmed you up within the speed of light, relaxing your current running thoughts, muscles relaxing slightly. Taking a shower has always reassured your senses with its water-hug, warm and cozy.

As you dressed for the training, you slipped out of the room deciding to take a small detour around the compound. The passing of Agents in the corridor, seemingly more professional and adjusted to the surroundings of the compound than yourself.

It almost made you shrink into yourself, wanting to knock your confidence. However, Natasha's words from the previous day replayed in your head on repeat, warning your insides for reasons unexplained.

Almost as if by sheer luck you'd past the main lounge of the compound where a few of the known Avengers seemed to be sitting around. That included, Tony, Steve, Wanda and Clint. As if your presence was like a dark shadow lingering into the room, all of their heads seemed to twist into your direction.

One thing you despised being more than anything is being the centre of all attention, eyes gazing on you like you'd become to be on a stage you weren't supposed to take. It bought bile rising from the depths of your stomach up at the mere concept of it.

Yet, their gazes lingered in a none judgmental way, almost like the comfort of understanding, an overwhelming sense but peaceful. Steve was the first to speak up, nodding at you firmly but not with an intensity of malice.

"If you're after the training room, it's just down the hall. Natasha's waiting for you there. Good luck, just believe in yourself."

With a curt, but gentle nod you headed to the training room giving your best definition of a half smile. Though, it probably looked more like a grimace, unintentionally of course.

As you entered the training room, Natasha was working on her punching exercises. Each one better than the last. The glimmer of sweat trickling down her cheeks and side of her hair, shone like water in the moonlight. For a moment you almost stopped to admire her.

However, you'd clearly being staring too long considering, when you came out of your dazed trance, Natasha stood smirking at you. Her head was now tilted to the side, her crimson hair braided and cascading down her shoulders. Immediately you flushed, a sudden realisation you'd been watching her working out, like some puppy in awe of the smallest of things.

"See something that you like?" Her voice carried huskily, but with a hint of a smirk lingering causing your knees to weaken.

Why she was having this effect on you, you'd never know. Part of yourself wished the feeling would vanish, disappearing like particles of atoms into the air. Dust vanishing away, yet another piece of you thrilled for the unknown drawn, the tranquility you felt. It felt exhilarating, the need for an escape.

As your eyes drifted around the room you realised just how much equipment had been invested within the 4 walls. Several different types of equipment were laid out in different selections, ranging from treadmills to yoga mats, leg presser's, even a shooting target range.

"N-No sorry I-" You stuttered still trying to distract your gaze to anything but at the redhead whose smirk had now grown wider.

The pair of you trained for a while, Natasha teaching you combat, which albeit you weren't as talented as herself. Several times she's managed to knock you down and pin you to the ground. Which, just happened to always end up with you looking up at her both your bodies in an extraordinary comprising position.

Natasha, on the other hand never judged you. Her skills and assets were on a scale of unbelievable, making you feel as tiny as an ant. Yet, the redhead never made you feel smaller than herself. She always seemed to root for the best in you, causing you to admire her as the minutes passed on.

"You've got more talent than you know," her voice whispered during the last training session.

Her voice sent a small shiver through your body shooting down your spine, as though a melody yet to be sang was ready to be heard. A soft nod a content true smile painted your lips setting a thousand suns alight.

"Thank you, Romanoff," your voice responded a little stronger than prior.

"Hey to you, it's Natasha."

A soft giggle passed your lips and she smiled, a rare one you could have sworn in the short time including familiarities of SHIELD, had never seen cross her lips before.

"it's like before when you were training me isn't it?" You asked your mouth speaking before your brain.

She simply nodded with a hum, putting herself once again in a position of combat causing you to follow suit. Her hair was now slick with sweat, but yours was drenched. Almost as if you'd been training the whole day, yet in reality it was a simple couple of hours.

"Exactly like before. Just harder and with stronger combat skills and assets."

Before you knew it, the pair of you were back at it. Training like you'd done the several times previously. Your skills had improved remarkably. How you didn't know, perhaps it was her words and further encouragement. Her sense of purpose that brought tranquility to you an ideology of lack of judgment.

One minute you were slightly stumbling and within the blink of an eye, you had her pinned. It was like the world had stopped, her own eyes had widened in shock, your body freezing as though ice had embedded itself within your veins, shocking every atom inside you.

The Natasha Romanoff, had been pinned down onto the floor with you hovering over her. A huge sense of achievement fell over you, a joyful relief that you had finally believed something within your bones for so long.

She felt it too, winking with no insult or any sort of ruined pride. Natasha merely looked and presented herself in a way that ran through to the pit of your stomach.

You scrambled off her slightly embarrassed as reality began to hit you, considering the positions you were currently in. Helping her up, Natasha stood there hands on her hips for a moment analysing you, but for once no feeling of unease overcame you.

"Told you could do it sweetheart," she said wiping her head with a towel.

If words could make your body melt into a puddle, like snow in the winter. You would have right there. Like an icicle on a tree branch waiting for its calling of life that's how you felt. Glistening but melting into bliss.

Natasha headed towards the door, her black tank top sticking to her in a way that was sheer attractive to practically everyone undeniably. Her abs could practically be seen through the material, causing your eyes to look up towards the ceiling scolding every part of your brain.

"Oh and, same time tomorrow," Natasha stated her voice carrying a tinge of something unplaced that caused you to look up at her. Yet she's disappeared through the door before anything more could be thought of it.

That's how it continued. The form of relationship building between yourselves, training continuing everyday. Your combat becoming stronger, fighting harder each time, not only did your skills improve but also your mindset. It began to light up your moments like a firefly, shining thousands of miles into you lighting up a hope in the sky.

There were times Natasha beat you, earning a playful comment from her lips.

"Gotta be faster than that honey," she'd husk out in that voice of hers.

Yet, you never stopped enjoying your training moments, the building of an established unknown. The way you and Natasha formed was rare, unseen and unbecoming, but there was no regret. No simple doubt that you enjoyed the form of relationship the pair of you had formed.

One morning your alarm clock went off once more, 6:15AM on the dot. Making no time to convince yourself to fall back into a peaceful depth of slumber you headed to the shower. Getting ready fast in the morning had become the new norm for you.

You'd managed to get changed at the speed of light hopping around to get into your gym wear. Just as you were about to leave F.R.I.D.A.Y spoke up warning you.

"Excuse me Y/N, I was informed to let you know most of the Avengers got called out for an emergency mission. You were called to go on it but, Miss Romanoff debated otherwise."

Your heart sank, upset slightly about the lack of training. You'd become quite accustomed to the way of life in the morning, training with Natasha before amusing yourself for the remainder of the day. However, it sank further when she mentioned Natasha stated she didn't want you there.

Were you not qualified enough? Would you ever be? Your mind spiralled around with overwhelming and overthinking thoughts, like a tornado sweeping through miles of countryside. No, you couldn't do this to yourself again.

The entire day became yourself training practically with little to no breaks, until the very darkness of night emerged the atmosphere, clicking your brain into knowledge.

Taking your last shower felt less like a privilege and more like a burden. Something undeserving, especially when you're clearly not welcome on missions. However, you knew you needed it.

Eventually you'd changed into some warmer fuzzier lounge wear, settling on some grey jumpsuit. It allowed you to feel more relaxed. The feeling sent you into a deep slumber, curled into the couch in a content creation.

A form half leaning on your body caused you to almost jolt awake, but you heard a whisper next to you. For a mere few seconds your surroundings became an enemy, training become reality. Yet, as your eyes adjusted to the light around you an awareness grew within you.

The Avengers were sat down around you, watching some random Christmas film you presumed Sam chose considering the choice. Clint was sat a few feet away glancing at you contently.

"You'll wake her," he mumbled his voice lower than usual that caused an unprovoked raised eyebrow from yourself.

Following his gaze, your heart pounded harder, eyes widening in a sudden surprise. Natasha was lying on your shoulder, her body almost slipping towards your lap. She seemed more at ease than Natasha ever had before.

Like the weight of a thousand worlds, a thousand men had been lifted by one single sleep. No, a single person. You. Her hair was now loose, drifting down her shoulders, making her look almost incredibly soft and it melted every aspect of you.

"She seems exhausted," you murmured without thinking.

"She took the most hits. I know what you were thinking. Natasha she.. She didn't want you on that mission, because she didn't want you hurt. Not because she doubts your capabilities. All I could see was her guilt and want to be back training with you."

Clint's confession and confirmation sent a warmth unexplainable feeling through you. Looking deeper at Natasha, you noticed the cuts and bruises. The winces when the redhead shifted in her sleep. A shatter through your heart came hard, one you had no idea was possible as you glanced softly at the older woman.

She cared. Natasha stirred slightly her eyes fluttering glancing up at you. Her eyes met yours and in that moment it unlocked everything and anything possible. It's said eyes are window's to one's soul. The key to unlocking everything about a person there was to be done.

Glancing at her emerald eyes all you saw was stardust, the pain of stars shimmering thousands of light years away trying to find their way back. She smiled weakly, trying to pull away. However, instead you adjusted Natasha to rest her head on your lap.

A frozen form hit your lap, tense in shock before fully relaxing into your hold. A soft hum left her lips and without thinking you began to caress her hair, bringing her to a warmth blanket of safety.

"She's never like that, looks like you're something," Clint mumbled smirking causing you to roll your eyes.

Natasha wasn't just an assassin, nor an Avenger. Sure you had no doubt words would be interestingly mentioned later when she awoke. Yet for now, as you had previously gazed into her eyes, all you saw was the stars of light wanting a home. Stroking her hair was like touching the star's of the soul itself, no matter the distance they'd always have somewhere or someone to go to.

[circeyoru]

The Only Reason

[Yandere!Sung Jinwoo x Worker!Reader]

Note: I have no idea what to call this AU, but I don't think a lot of people will read this so... Haha~ Mental AU? Chaos AU?

Update! This AU is called Mana Chaos AU! Plus there's Part 2 up!!

Part 1 (here) 一 Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4

Once, the world’s strongest Hunters were revered as humanity’s saviours and heroes for the weak and ordinary. They were once treated like celebrities and hold the highest power and authority. They were respected, praised, and idolized. They still were, now, with a hint of fear.

It all happened due to the infamous incident now dubbed as <The Outrage Incident>. It happened like any other day, in any other country, in any other city. But to only that one strong Hunter. He was an S-Rank Mage, a successful and loved one at that. The story goes like this. 

One day, this powerful Hunter was out on the street enjoying a day off, but something set him off and he used his powerful ability to set things right. It would have been the end of it since an S-Rank’s threat was enough to make the majority crumble. However, his power got out of control and caused an outrage to his being. He was using his powers in public and there was no dungeon outbreak or monsters nearby for him. No amount of justification could calm the public.

After that one incident, other countries’ S-Rank or higher started to experience a similar issue. The worst case was that even Healers of their level didn’t escape such a phenomenon. Soon, the public feared the strong protectors they once saw as shields and swords against the gates. 

Researchers and scientists were put to work quickly to investigate why and how this issue was happening now. The answer was in the overflowing mana levels within their bodies that couldn’t be contained since the human body was weak and frail for such a change. Addition to that, it correlated to the Hunter’s emotional level and their control. Institutions were built to imprison house the S-Ranks while monitoring their situation. 

Whenever an S-Rank’s mana levels and emotions show signs of <Outrage>, a term they now use to describe the Hunter going haywire with their powers on everything and anything around them, they will be sent to a dungeon alone. In the people’s eyes, it was better for that one Hunter to die in battle than kill innocents. Because at first, it was only the S-Ranks, but then some A-Ranks would fall victim to <Outrage> as well. 

The professionals have named the correlation as Emotional Mana, EM for short, which made way for the Emotional Mana Institution, EMI for strong Hunters. The Hunters were treated like mental patients or worse, forced into a straitjacket and some had a muzzle for certain Hunters. These were specially designed and created items that limit and restricts a Hunter’s use of their powers and abilities. 

It was a miracle that someone managed to create such equipment. That someone was also targetted by the S-Ranks after being announced and killed for such a disrespectful act, still the blueprints and prototypes were created and other talents that took over were able to finalize the perfect form.

“Personnel 002, you were specifically requested by SM-10.” 

You looked up from your laptop and paused in your rapid typing for just a few second before you looked back to your screen and continued typing. That code name was to protect you and everyone else that worked in EMI or have some form of connection to it, so that no innocent is sacrificed for the greater good. Still, you can’t get used to it nor do you want to. “I’m busy.”

“Please… SM-10 is way too picky with the people that enters his cell.” This person, Supervisor 843, was one of the newest employee to join the crew. Though, unlike the name of the duty, they were people that were disposable hence the frequent newcomers and high number. “Please help me.”

You sighed and glared up at the person who had a mask over their head and a voice changer to mask their identity. Though, with the way they were speaking, you could deduce this person was a ‘she’. You got up and snatched the file extended to you. Just when you thought you could rest and work in peace, trouble comes knocking on your door. “Get me a drink and some refreshment, I want to see it on my desk by the time I’m back.”

“Yes? Yes!” Supervisor 843 bowed and clapped her hands together, “I’ll do so!”

As swiftly and automatically, you made your way through the hallways and doorways, tapping your access card to unlock needed doors and lifts for your travel. On the way, other Supervisors nodded their heads and bowed in your presence when you walked by. Unlike them who wear a uniform, you only have a lab coat over your usual outfits. You don’t even have a mask or voice changer. 

Why?

You stood in front of the door that was labelled in bold ‘SM-10’, meaning the 10th S-Rank in Korea that belonged to the Mage class. The guard dressed in black from head to toe nodded their heads at you before they started unlocking the various security checkpoints and locks for you to enter into a battlefield in its own right.

“Will one hour be enough, Personnel 002?” One of the guards asked.

“Not sure, just be alert in case I need to rush out.” You spoke stoically with indifference.

Step by step, you walked in, announcing loudly of your arrival to the individual inside. The doors closed behind you and locked you inside with what everyone feared. You sighed and put away your glasses since there was no need for it right now. The room was eerily silent and cold, something you were long used to. 

You took a few more steps, walking deeper into the room where it seemed to get darker and darker even though the lights in all housed Hunters would be on 24/7 to monitor their actions and activities within the room. 

Just when your vision failed you to the point where you can’t see what was in front of you, you were enveloped in a pair of strong arms, your entire form effortlessly pulled back till your back was pressed against a firm wall of muscle one would call chest and abs. Hair tickled one side of your cheek and neck, you felt a breath cooed before a deep voice rang in your ear, “I’ve been waiting for my favourite Personnel~”

It wasn’t at all odd that your name was called as well, if it was someone like him, he’d know everything there was to know. In fact, everyone should be worshipping him right now for his controlled and well-mannered behaviour. Especially when he could have destroyed this entire facility and killed everyone in it within seconds if he so wished. 

“Jinwoo. I need to work, don’t bully the newcomers.” You sighed while looking to the side as if making eye contact with him. 

“I like it when you call me by name and not some code, thanks for that.” Jinwoo hummed as he played with your fingers. “I guess I’ll think about it. It’s a bit bored here, you understand.”

“You removed your straitjacket again.” You let him fiddle with your fingers as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. “You’ll get caught one of these days and then it’ll be game over.”

“Igris helped me remove it. You know how they are with seeing me constrained and imprisoned here.” He chuckled and leaned back, but it turned out he was just taking a seat, presumably on his bed since you still couldn’t see anything in the darkness. “Don’t worry, I’ve made sure no one could see me free and they didn’t kill anyone. Yet.”

Every Hunter that was admitted into the EMI was evaluated and thoroughly investigated to create the perfect profile for reference. All their fighting style, powers and abilities, weapons of choice, gear type, and any other detail was accounted down. It was all for people to be prepared in case one would have an <Outrage> and they were needed to be countered by weaker Hunters. 

For Jinwoo, however, his profile was lacking to put it in the best terms. His mana levels were unmeasureable, yes, so he was placed as an S-Rank. Though, his powers and abilities were unknown. Since he was a Reawakened Hunter, most would assume he was the same class as he was as an E-Rank; a Fighter Class. But he exhibit <Telekinese> and <Shadow Manipulation> so he was placed as into Mage class.

That wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. 

You saw through his innocence and lie, uncovering his true powers and abilities. To be honest, even if you told your higher-ups of Jinwoo’s secrets, there was nothing they could do to counter it. Jinwoo was a league of his own and only you knew it. He was no mere S-Rank, he was definitely a National Level Hunter.

Ah, yes. The question as to why you don’t wear a mask or bother having done anything to hide your identity. It was not because you’ve been in one of the people who has been in service of EMI for the longest time or wanted something as shallow as respect from the newcomers or other coworkers. It was completely because you knew it was useless to hide when someone like Sung Jinwoo had his eyes on you.

“I’ll try and arrange a dungeon for you to raid.” You marked down on your phone while Jinwoo continued to treat you like a teddy bear.

“You have to join though. If you don’t…” Jinwoo’s voice went deeper as glowing eyes stared at you from the shadows, “I don’t know what I’ll do to get your attention…”

You nodded, pushing down the urge to flinch or jerk away from him. It was normal, something you expected but still unnerving to hear with your own ear from his lips. You swear this place made the Hunters mad in the head, it was a place that made them sick and mentally ill, it wasn’t actually helping them at all. “Yeah, of course. I’m sure everyone will be relieved to hear it.”

Jinwoo smirked as his arms tightened around you, his face buried between your neck and shoulder. “You’re the only reason I stay here. Remember that. If you leave here… Leave me… I’ll do what Thomas Andre did to America.”

Note: I can't help it, it was supposed to upload the requested ones first, but then this idea hit me like a truck (without the isekai part), so now here it is. There are like 2 requested stories written and ready to be posted, but I'm double checking and stuff. Hope you like this AU/idea.

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: (none at the moment)

[winterzsurprise]

Change My Mind [2]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 8.6k

I posted this a day later than the one on ao3 because I forgor :''DD

Seeing the support and comments from both website got me off my ass to fix the storyline, even made a lot of changes on the chapters I've had preserved.

this chapter got rewritten a LOT, and was longer than it initially was so I hope y'all don't mind long chapters.

<<<Prev || MASTERLIST || Next>>>

__________

There's been times where your heart has truly fluttered for a man throughout your lifetime. Too many times has it been because some of your bosses (read: Jimin) flirted with you but you have never felt anything remotely giddy for anyone else outside the group.

Except for the man now sitting in front of you, flashing you a dimpled smile after handing out his card with an ease you only see in your friends and male leads in dramas. An action more attractive than any kabaedon or flexed muscles.

He's attractive but you don't like like him.

Yoo Guwon came to you as a bashful giant, rubbing the back of his head whenever he’s flustered and a constant sheepish smile featuring his deep set of dimples indented on both cheeks. He’s charming and articulate with his words just like a lawyer would be. Everything about him reminds you of another gentle and clumsy giant probably hunched over his music equipment back in the BigHit building.

It’s only been a few hours but you surprisingly covered most of the basic grounds of first meeting conversations during the short time you drove around Han River in a two seated bicycle. From the meager questions of ‘what dreams do you have?’ to the more complex and deeper ‘If the world falls into ruin, will you burn my body when I die?’. 

Too graphic for a first date but you wanted to test the waters and you concluded that he’s too perfect.

He knows the right words to say, the proper way to act and it makes you suspicious. Your mother has never recommended you to a good guy before, having a track record of ten shitty suitors who all ran their mouths about their mediocre achievements, and dared to ask you about your purity before ranting about how dirty you are for not saving yourself for your husband the moment they find out you're not a virgin anymore. Then all of a sudden, she led you to good boy Guwon.

And it makes your skin crawl.

What did that woman eat? Has your father fed her something bad this time? What is she planning? It’s scary how she has finally advocated for an actual nice guy.

After taking you to a museum you're sure Namjoon has visited once, he drove you both to the Han River to rent a double seated bike to drive around with before ending the night with a nice reservation somewhere in the Seocho district.

The place is as sophisticated as fine dining areas usually are. With an intimate lighting, marbled tabletops matched with soft cushioned seats and high ceilings to make space for modern glass chandeliers, the restaurant was no doubt expensive, the type you have to reserve a spot two months prior to be able to experience its greatness. The point was driven home when you saw the amount of zeros it cost for one can of soda. 

You asked him how he managed to get a table and he went down the rabbit hole of the many advantages he got from successful cases, ranging from a free monthly subscription to fruit baskets to a free week-long voucher to a five star hotel somewhere in Busan. 

Going back to the butterflies, while not as wild as it got when Hoseok possessively wrapped an arm thrown around your waist to pretend as your boyfriend to ward off a persistent suitor, they're there, albeit subtle.

Very subtle.

Maybe it's in the way he didn't think twice to hand out his card towards the waiter in the most suave way with the thick golden watch decorating his wrist, sleeves neatly folded up to reveal the thick cords of veins on his forearms with his hair strewn messily and a dimpled smile that made you react like that.

You ignore the voice comparing his uncannily similar traits to someone else.

Meeting Guwon wasn't like how the movies illustrated love at first sights. They talked of fireworks exploding in the background and hearing the sweet chimes of wedding bells upon eye contact but for him, it's just that. A meeting far more formal than you'd like. He has a lot of qualities that check your list of husband material traits yet instead of butterflies, you could only feel an echoing hollowness in your chest as you listen to him list out his future plans. 

It felt like surrendering to the fate the divinities had weaved out for you which is being an untethered forced to love someone you don't even feel any spark with.

He's a nice man who’s offering a comfortable future and you're just a woman who wishes to live a lavish life at home while your husband wastes his years away in the office. You might be a hopeless romantic who wished for soulmates and the like but you're not blind to the opportunity Guwon offers you.

You haven't texted the gc anything during the date other than the selfie you took before you left for the date but there's been constant vibrations in your purse and it's no doubt the guys asking for updates but for a moment you wanted to try to focus on the man before you.

Not that it wasn't hard to try with Guwon anyways.

Whenever the man spoke of his achievements and hobbies with a humble approach, he never forgot to ask you for your opinion or input on the topic. You also noted how he has never cut you off and let you speak whenever you wanted, listening with an eagerness only your friends usually show. He asked relevant questions with a genuine curiosity, eager to know more about you. 

So when he asked if you wanted to go on a second date that night, it came to no surprise for anyone when you accepted it albeit the heaviness in your heart.

It was funny how eagerly you searched for a husband you could bring to your parents' doorsteps but the moment someone with all the qualities you seeked came, it felt disappointing. Boring even.

But you can learn, this man is your ticket to living without working anymore.

It came to no one's surprise that your mother was overjoyed, she wasted no time calling you before you could even change to squeeze the memory of today out of you.

The shrill scream of victory she let out that night was unforgettable because finally, a suitor you actually liked. Your dad even congratulated her off-screen for her matchmaking achievements before telling you to bring Guwon home to meet them.

Logically, you’re aware you've won the love roulette—Guwon has it all, he checked every box on your list, yet it felt like defeat and it tasted foul, bitter on your tongue.

You couldn't tell them that it was you deciding to settle, that would break her heart.

Tapping the end call button felt like the dam breaking and all the water held onto for so long flowed out. You fall lifelessly on your bed with a heavy sigh. Taking a couple evening breaths, you finally opened the group chat with an overwhelming number of unread messages.

[Today, 08:49]

[08:49] Mimi: I'd run my bank dry to take you on dates if you'd dress so pretty like that, noona~

[08:49]Tete: We're really seeing this for free when the poor guy has to pay for it. #livingapriviledgedlife😁👍

[08:49] Hobi: Wow noona🤯

[08:50] Yoongs: 👍

[08:55] Tete: Wait, I don't think those shoes fit you, go back home and change it😁

[08:56] Jinnie: Hey, you're showing too much skin on the first date! Go back and change!

[08:57] Joonie: Ignore these haters noona, I hope you enjoy your day😊

[Today, 21:48]

[21:48] Jinnie: are you home yet? You haven't seen our messages in HOURS.

[21:48] Tete: NOONA DID YOU GET MURDERED?!😱

[21:50] Joonie: Let's be rational guys, don't jump to conclusions. The date might just be going great if she's busy enough to not check her phone😊.

[21:51] Mimi: doing great? don't scare me like that hyung😵‍💫

[21:51] Tete: BUT WHAT IF SHE GOT KIDNAPPED HYUNG????

[21:51] Hobi: please reply soon, we're worried🥲

Jungkook's absence from the conversation didn't come to you as a shock, the kid doesn't even reply to you for a week despite being one of the people who raised him. Nonetheless, you sat up from your bed to record a quick video of you giving them a thumbs up and turning the camera to show your room.

The latter was an assurance to Taehyung that no, you also didn't get kidnapped into someone else's house to be someone's housekeeper, and no, it wasn't a clone either.

The moment your message gets sent, the replies blow up your phone almost instantaneously.

[22:28] Mimi: noona you're alive!

[22:28] Joonie: How did the date go?😊

[22:28] Jinnie: how nice of you to remember to update us PEASANTS.

[22:28] Mimi: How was Guwon?

[22:29] Tete: I KNEW WE SHOULD'VE WENT WITH YOU ANYWAYS

[22:29] You: Shockingly, he's a pretty nice guy. Not too bad on the eyes, and pretty smart. I think you'd get along well with him, joon. He's a lawyer so he covered most of the expenses today😁

[22:29] You: Overall, it was great, we're gonna go on a second one. He's pretty cool.

Instantly, messages from the members, even Jungkook’s to your surprise, flooded your screen.

[22:30] Tete: Noona you've been cursed! We need to bring you to the nearest shaman to break it!!

[22:30] Mimi: don't joke with us noona

[22:30] Mimi: I just got goosebumps!

[22:30] Joonie: Congratulations are in order then? Will we be expecting him around you soon?

[22:31] Yoongs: I need to meet him, need to know if he's good enough

[22:31] Yoongs: men are trash, I need to see him for myself before I decide

[22:32] Yoongs: and you know what they say about lawyers, they LIE. I wouldn't trust him 

[22:32] Jinnie: WE need to meet the man who managed to steal your heart! I want to talk to him😊

[22:32] Mimi: don't use that emoji again, hyung

[22:32] Hobi: SCARY JWANN😱

[22:32] Joonie: Let’s not threaten anyone please.

[22:32] Joonie: But I'm really happy for you 😁.

[22:33] Tete: Those periods really scares me hyung…

[22:33] Tete: Somehow, I don't think you mean it…

[22:33] Joonie: What makes you think that, tae?😁.

[22:33] Tete: 😰

[22:34] Ggukie: a few drinks will fix you up, noona😁

[22:34]  Mimi: you'll invite me this time right?

[22:34] You: I don't know, you already used your mischief hours this week, I doubt Sejin would be so kind next time.

[22:34] Hobi: if he does that right now during practice, I also wouldn't be so kind to him😊

[22:34] Mimi: you are scaring me hyung…

[22:34] Hobi: good😊

[22:34] Tete: Hyung, are you just gonna ignore Jungkook leaving?!?!!?

The messages continued for a good five minutes, mostly consisting of holding Jimin back from leaving practice and him sending pictures of the infamous Hoseok death glare from across the room before your doorbell chime rang, making you shoot up straight.

A beat. Then it continues in three quick successions, the knocks almost in sing-song and sounded like two hands were used to produce the tune, giving you an inkling on who might be visiting you at this late hours of night.

Padding out of your room, the front door suddenly swings open without warning and you yelp. By the doorsteps stands the intruder, a tall man in a black coat with his face hidden by a mask and a cap. Your body would've frozen a thousand times over if you didn't know this stranger who's hugging two paper bags, one overflowing with snacks and the other a breeze away from tearing apart from the weight and water drenching the material of the bag.

"Hi noona!"

After today, seeing Jungkook felt like a cure, his presence alone repelling the heaviness in your shoulders and you ushered him inside and he wandered into your home with ease, approaching the coffee table to place down the shopping bags. 

Suddenly you remembered what he had scheduled prior.

"You're putting me on Hoba’s punishment rotation, what are you doing here?" 

He giggled. “We both know he won't, hyung loves you more than me.”

He falls on your couch with the ease of someone who has visited your space numerous times throughout the years, propping up his feet on the back support and folding his arms underneath his head before staring up at you, expectantly.

"Anyways, I brought us food and drinks, don't I deserve a little praise?" 

Sometimes it's easy to forget how young Jungkook really is, forced to grow and act mature to blend in with his surroundings, you've always seen him stand with pride alongside his hyungs. Seeing him awaiting for your praise so eagerly like a pup fills your heart with awe.

"Yeah yeah, good job. Now move over, let me sit down."

You tapped his arm, motioning him to move over so you could sit next to him, something he obeyed without resistance, busying himself in removing the contents from the soiled paper bag instead.

“Couldn't you have put some effort into it? At least sound grateful.” He pouts. Placing down the cluster of beer cans, you turned to him and pinched his cheeks.

“Oh my dearest darling, thank you for saving this noona of yours. Such an amazing baby I have here.”

Despite being the one who asked for it, Jungkook only rolled his eyes with a barely held back grin as he slapped your hands away, making you laugh, and turned to the bag holding the snacks he bought. You didn't miss the redness dusting his cheeks or the cheeky grin that tugged his lips wide as he spilled the contents of the last bag onto the table.

There's a significant amount of sweets and snacks laid before you, as well as stacks of canned beers and you turned to him with furrowed brows.

"Wouldn't this ruin your diet?"

He waved you off with a huff. "I work out enough to eat all of these in one sitting."

Instantly, your mind brings you back to white walls and gray furniture, faced with manager Sejin who warned you about interfering with the idols' diet at the start of your career. If it wasn't for Bang PD waving off their concerns, saying they needed to be rewarded for their hard work anyways, you would've been long booted out of the company.

It's a matter long settled yet it remains to weigh heavily in your head.

Seeing the hesitation in your eyes, Jungkook continues.

"I can show you proof of my efforts," 

He then reached down to the fabric of his shirt tucked into his jeans and tugged it up, flashing you the tightly corded muscles in forming on his abdomen and the thin happy trail you often see when patting his sweat down during concerts and you hastily pulled it back down with a yelp, cheeks growing hot while he laughed.

As he throws his head back in his mirth, you couldn't help but notice the way adulthood has taken away the fullness of his cheeks and has sharpened his features. A far cry from the sensitive young boy who cried his eyes out every time his hyungs got hurt. 

There was no denying that Jungkook had grown without you noticing and it makes your chest swell with pride knowing he's been raised well by the others, in extension, although not so much, you as well.

"Don't worry so much about me, noona. I can handle the consequences now, you leave the reprimanding to me."

Under the warm overhead light of your living room, even with the exaggerated puff of his chest and his nose turnt up high, Jungkook's shoulder had never looked sturdier, reliable, in your eyes. You smiled, reaching to pinch both his cheeks making him grin wider than he already was.

"Look at you acting so cool, when did you grow so much?"

He rolled his eyes, pulling your hands away from his cheeks and entangling it with his. “I've always been cool, you just don't pay attention to me, noona.”

Before you could reply, he's already moved to reach for the beverages on the coffee table, popping two of them open and handing you one can, immediately you take a swig.

The beer fizzled in your tongue and left a trail of burns down your throat. The sensation is refreshing nonetheless and you place it down next to him before picking up the large bags of chips and standing up.

"I'll go put these in a bowl, go put something on the tv."

"Can I play anime?"

You waved at him dismissively, unable to find it in yourself to say no to him as you head towards your kitchen to transfer the junk into a bowl when a shrill tune from your bedroom cuts through the air, someone was calling you. You look over to Jungkook, scrolling through his phone, no doubt looking for a movie online.

"Gguk, can you pick up the call for me? My hands are busy right now."

There's a shuffle of feet behind you and in a moment, your phone quietens down. Finished with filling one bowl, you turn to find Jungkook leaving your room with a deep look and your phone in hand. His jaw set tight as he stood there with furrowed brows, eyes lit with irritation.

Looking at his reaction, you asked about your mysterious caller.

"Who was it?"

When he turned to you, the tick in his jaw dispersed. All of a sudden, he's smiling at you with mischief twinkling in his eyes, the change giving you a whiplash.

"It was the others, didn’t answer their calls cause I want you for myself tonight, noona."

(Later on, you'd find yourself staring at the many unread messages and two missed calls from Guwon, wondering in your drunken state if you've muted your phone at some point earlier.)

Hearing it from his lips now, your body locks, heart stuttering in your chest and butterflies exploding in your stomach, spreading a tingly feeling throughout your body and you laugh. 

"Where did you hear that line from, brat? You just activated my fight or flight!"

"Taehyung says that and gets thanked but when I do it, I'm punished?" He pouts, stomping as he approaches the island counters and crossing his arms on the marble surface.

It reminded you of a bunny you saw from a video on the internet, angrily thumping their feet at their owner when it was being purposely ignored.

“In his defense, he does it while he’s acting like my crazy ‘exes’ and saves me from dates.”

“That’s just favoritism! I saved you once from a date!”

You threw him a deadpan stare. "Throwing me over your shoulders and kidnapping me isn’t the same as Tae and Jimin acting crazy enough to make the other guy uncomfortable to save me.”

Hoseok had your favorite troublemakers kneeled on the floor with both their hands up and facing the wall at the time, punishing them for being an hour late to their practice. He had called you in, asking if they had been accompanying you during —they weren’t. 

Long story short, you didn't risk sharing Hoseok’s wrath with the two and took Jungkook instead, a decision you quickly regretted later on in the night when instead of approaching to act like one of your exes when you gave him a signal, he hoisted you up onto his shoulder and ran away while your date only watched in terror.

“Now that’s blatant favoritism! I didn’t kidnap you, we ran away together into the sunset! It was romantic!"

"Not for the other guy, no! He was shitting bricks when he called my mom. She got me squatting the entire afternoon when we met again."

Mentioning it alone made phantom pains throb in your knees and thighs, you shivered. If torture wasn't a socially unacceptable and punishable offense in the modern world, you were sure your mother would have stripped you down to your underwear and made you squat under the sun in front of your family house instead. 

The absolute fury she unleashed on you that day is enough proof that she would've done it with no hesitation if it was lawfully appropriate.

"That's too much for a failed date."

"No reason to dwell on it. Main point is, don't take notes from dramas anymore."

With a last roll of his eye, Jungkook then picked up the bowls and brought them to the coffee table following you who had returned to your seat ahead of him. Once the two of you are situated back on the couch, he navigates through the streaming app for an interesting title before eventually settling on the romance anime he claimed to have heard amazing reviews about.

Without hesitation, Jungkook navigates himself into a familiar between your legs and leaned back on your chest, head finding his rightful space under your chin with a precision gained from doing so for years.

It goes without saying that Bangtan is affectionate. With the pressure they had during their rise to fame, it wasn't shocking that they comfortably seeked each other's comfort and spared no skinship. As one of the only staff within constant exposure that's close to their age, you too became one of their pillars of serenity. 

It was the reason you had crushes on everyone at least twice during your time as their make-up artist, not that any of the boys knew nor does it matter.

Stability and work takes precedence over something as shaky as love.

There's only so much comfort another man can offer, your mother says from years before.

Jungkook more than anyone else in the group. 

As a boy who sacrificed his childhood and time with his parents to pursue his dream, you felt more inclined to watch over him than the others who were adults by the time you joined. You were there for his first heartbreak, his first drink, his high school graduation; the point is, you were there and you held him every time he struggled with problems—mostly girl problems—he's too shy to seek his hyungs for.

But now with his growth spurt, cuddling up to you like he used to when he was younger with his gangly legs awkwardly hanging from the couch, carelessly leaning his head in between the mounds of your breast while his large hand mindlessly drew circles on your knee, you found yourself wondering about the appropriateness of it all.

A man and a woman alone in a room at night in close proximity, body leaning against each other. Society would argue they wouldn’t end the night as friends anymore after the encounter.

You paused mid-drink and grimaced.

It must be the beer talking.

"Noona."

"Yeah?"

"Wrap your arms around me, it's cold."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "It's not though? I always keep my house warm." 

He let out an exasperated groan before reaching behind to grab your arm and roughly slinging it on his shoulders.

As time continued its cycle and episodes started to fly across the screen, the pile of opened beer cans on the table expanded. You really tried to focus on the movie but the feeling of his fingers tracing stars on your bare thigh left you oddly bothered. Jungkook has shifted his position higher at some point during the movie, his body now turned sideways, successfully squeezing himself into the small space between you and the back of the couch, legs entangling itself with yours while an arm is thrown across your body.

This position puts his nose closer to your ears and it makes you shiver. The feel of his hot breath fanning across your skin has given you more goosebumps in under an hour more than you've had throughout your life.

Even drunk, you could feel the building tension thickening around you and the will to tell him to off ebbs away with every caress of his fingers.

Gone were the innocent traces of stars and hearts on your thigh, his hand now grabbed onto your waist almost possessively, thumb rolling slow circles on your bare stomach; the motion conjuring the most unholiest of thoughts known to mankind.

When the credits started rolling, you knew you had to draw the line before you lost yourself to intoxicated thoughts and end the night with regrets.

"Time for you to go home now, your hyungs must be looking for you."

You tried prying his hand from your waist so you could reach for your phone on the table only for him to tighten around you, stopping you from moving away. He groaned, head nuzzling closer into your neck and his lips grazed your skin. 

Instantly, electric jolts shoot through your body.

"Jungkook, I need to get my phone and tell someone to fetch you from here."

"Can't I just stay the night? I'm too comfortable right now…"

The gruff in his voice and the sensation of his lips moving on your skin has your stomach fluttering and you're too drunk to address the growing heat in your abdomen but thanked the sense of professionalism seeping through the fogs of your intoxicated mind.

Managing to pry him off, you reached for your phone and opened up SMS to tell Jin to pick their youngest up.

           [01:21] You: Jwannn

           [01:21] You: can you pick up your kid from my house? He's drunk and stinkyyy

           [01:23] Jinnie: your knight in shining armor is on the way!

“Just let me stay the nighttt,” he whined into your skin.

"I don't have any more spare beds other than this couch for you to sleep in, Gguk. I turned the other room into a closet, remember?"

"I can just sleep with you on the bed, we used to do that, didn't we?"

He attempted to reach around you again but you pushed his limbs away once more before slapping his arm.

You tried not noticing how thicker and harder the muscles felt, you really did. 

"But it's different now, Gguk. Come on, go wash up and drink water, I've already told someo—"

The moment you rose to stand, his arms shot around your waist in record speed and pulled you flush to his front, nuzzling his nose on the back of your neck before he sighed. When the first hot exhale hits your skin, you flinch away but the limbs wounded tightly around your middle restrict you from moving.

You try to ignore the heat simmering under your skin but it was hard when you felt the press of his plush lips on your nape as he leans closer into your skin. 

“You always smell so nice, noona.” He whispered breathily, the sensation of his moving mouth sending shivers down your spine and you shivered.

“I-I can give you my lotion brand later, let me go so I can get it.”

“But I'm comfortable here…”

Mustering every strength left in your body, you manage to pull an arm out of the death grip he had on your body and slapped his hand. Jungkook easily ignores it.

“Come on Gguk, let me out now. This isn't appropriate.”

"How is it different now?"

The alcohol intoxicating your system loosened your grip on your inhibitions and your lips regrettably moved faster than your brain.

"You're a man now, Gguk. Honestly, we shouldn't be even doing this right now. It's inappropriate."

You try to stand once more, managing to pry him from your waist and standing up before his arms hooked around you once more and tugging you back down, this time on his lap as he burrows his head onto your back.

"Gguk?"

"Yo-you see me as a man, noona?"

As a child your mother has taught you how words could heavily influence and drastically change a situation, now as an adult, you've mastered the art of speech. But as you sit still on his thighs, body warm and inhibitions blurred by the alcohol, your loose lips have led you back to the very thing you try to avoid.

"It's hard not to think so when you've grown up this much."

In a flash, Jungkook is now hovering over your face as he places you back down on the couch, his nose a hair's width from touching yours and his hands planted on each side of your head. 

There's a feral hunger swimming in his eyes as it stared into yours, desperate and intense before it fell to the plush of your parted lips and his gaze darkens. All of a sudden, you're a prey pinned down by an apex predator who's ready to devour you at any given moment.

Fire alarms blared in your mind and you regained control over your senses.

“Jungkook.”

"Noona."

You tried wriggling out of his grasp but it was no use, he's stronger. "Get off of me, kid."

“How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not a kid anymore?”

“I'm not hearing anything out when you're acting like this, Gguk.”

He scoffed. “I just want to sleep here, in the same bed, nothing else is gonna happen. Why is it such a bad thing?”

“It's different now, Gguk. Come on, let me go.”

“How is it so different? You and Jimin hyung cuddle sometimes, I've seen you fall asleep next to Hobi hyung once, why is it different with me?”

“It's different because we're both drunk and things could happen.”

“I wouldn't mind it.” Jungkook responds with a cheeky smile. His grip on one of your wrist loosened enough that you were able to hit his arm and he giggled in response.

“But I do. It wouldn't be fair.”

Even something as small as letting one member stay at your home without the others can be the loudest announcement for the rest of the group. All those times you've rejected your friends, with reasons like ‘I don’t want to risk everything’, and ‘I don't want to hurt the others’, to turn back around to accept their youngest would be hypocritical of you.

He scoffs. "You tell us about all your stupid dates, don't you think it's more unfair for us?”

A familiar weight grows in your chest. Guilt tasted like rust on your tongue and dug into your heart with a ribbed knife. Your own late night thoughts manifesting before you and you pushed him away.

After everything, you were all friends, you trusted them more than you do with your other circle. There's not a secret left undiscussed between the eight of you so it was no surprise that you had indulged them with the details of your quest for a husband. Nobody ever raised any complaints with you sharing your days so you never thought twice about it.

It's been five years since Jin had confessed, three for Taehyung. Their eldest had confessed for the sake of him finally being able to move on after your rejection and with how he acted after, you had believed him. It was different for Taehyung who had continued to act like normal after his confession, neither dejected nor did he show signs of letting go but he did introduce a date to your group once, a year later, so you had assumed the same.

Were you wrong after all?

“Jungkook, we're drunk. Let’s talk about this tom—”

“I've never been more sober in my life than I am right now, noona.”

You didn't respond, couldn't reply.

What were you supposed to even say?

Jungkook usually obeyed you and his hyungs without hesitation, happily offering his aid whenever he could. He's the type of friend who's run himself dry just to fetch you a cup of water from the other side of the world but now as he hovers over you, he became a whole new person.

Greed has always been an irritating parasite that eats away at a person's morals but somehow in your drunken mind, you thought it looked so good on him. It fits him and his generous character the way one light clothing molds well with the dark fabrics. His familiar scent of vanilla and coconut clouded your senses, calming your panicking mind into a hush, leaving nothing but the thoughts of how his lips tasted and wondering if he’s as sweet as he smelled.

He let out a shaky exhale from through his mouth as he watched your parted lips with a rapt attention as if hypnotized by the way they subtly trembled with every breath that passed through.

In the pregnant silence of your room, his voice cuts through like a knife.

“Can I kiss you?”

He whispers against your lips, voice breaking in the middle from the weight of his request, honeyed and pleading, as if your kiss holds the answer to the problems of the world and holds the power to break him.

His hand travels up to cup your cheek oh so carefully like you're fragile china yet you feel yourself shatter under his touch.

You are losing grasp on your sober thoughts as lust starts to cloud your already compromised judgment, his request far too tempting to ignore.

Maybe a kiss wouldn’t hurt. 

But wouldn’t it be unfair for the others who have expressed their romantic intentions to you since years ago? 

It was a last ditch effort to reason with your mind and your body froze from the cold wave of realization. In the short time after his question, you recall the confessions you turned down to not ruin the relationship Bangtan has established for themselves and the bitter taste it left on your tongue.

“Jungkook… we can’t.”

Watching his expression contort into confused hurt almost made you want to take your words back, but your mind takes you to memories of apologetic and understanding smiles you’ve received throughout the years and the aches from those moments resurfaces, squeezing your heart in a tight grip.

“I-I’m sorry I can’t control my feelings, I just wanted to tell you about it… Thought that maybe after this, I could move on.” An apologetic voice whispers, the memory of premature confessions in the middle of a cleanup resurfacing.

“I can’t—I can’t do it to them, it’d be unfair.”

You pushed him back and he relented, letting himself be sat back onto the other side of the couch defeatedly. Despite it, his tight grip on your waist remained, pulling you flush to him and burying his face in your chest as if trying to hear the lie in your words through the beatings of your heart.

“I’m also seeing Guwon now.”

“Then don’t let me meet him. I-I don’t know if I can take it.”

It was heart wrenching and at the same time, left an uncomfortable twist in your stomach. Jungkook never had to beg since you first met him, everything he could ever want was given to him by you and his hyungs without hesitation. Hearing him plead for you to never bring Guwon around if fate had actually paired you both, it was a different kind of pain.

It felt like thorns growing and rooting its stems of pointy ends into the deepest parts of your heart. You hated this, but you don’t want to hurt any of your boys by accepting one.

Relief comes in the form of Taehyung when he busted into your apartment while Jungkook has excused himself to your bathroom to sober up just a moment before. Seokjin trails behind him, calmer than the younger man who declared his arrival with a deep voice and a loud bang of the door. You immediately thought of the elderly couple and the new family of three living next to you and internally facepalmed.

“Noona! We’ve come to take Jungkook away!”

Kim Seokjin’s face has never been more handsome when he closed the door behind him, and you verbalized your thought, leading his ears to glow red in embarrassment.

“Am I only handsome to you when I’m closing the doors?! This face that people fawn over all over the world?!”

“It’s your true calling, door guy.”

“Oh shut it hyung, you’re making my head hurt.” Jungkook mutters as he reentered the living room, looking far better than when he left.

The tension was palpable, the effect of a rejected profession still raw and thick in the small joined space of the living room and kitchen and you caught Jin's eyes as the two youngest bickered, there’s a knowing look passed between you, an unsaid ‘let’s talk later’ hanging in the air.

“Hey, just because you got to escape Hoba’s practice without scratch doesn't mean you're hot shit, show me some respect!”

Seokjin scolds, accompanied by a playful kick to their youngest’s butt. Immediately the stuffy air dissipates and Jungkook responds in kind; by kicking him in the shin, hard enough to launch Seokjin into another lengthy nag.

It was a quick retrieval after his rant. Jungkook lets himself be towed out of your apartment by an oddly enthusiastic Taehyung who's going on about a new game trailer he saw online while Jin has offered to be left behind to clean up the mess. It was no doubt obvious, the familiar awkwardness and tenseness brought by a rejected confession lingered in the air when they arrived, it only took him one look at you and he already knew. 

The moment the door slams shut behind the boys, he immediately began:

“Did he admit it?”

His voice was soft yet it rang loudly in the pindrop silence of your living room. The sigh he let out echoed more when you nodded.

“I told him to not do it, you know? But you know how stubborn he gets.”

You didn’t reply. You simply move, walking to the trash bin to put the empty beer cans in and Jin follows close with the bowls stacked on top of each other to place in the sink. It was a brief moment of reprieve. He let the moment from earlier simmer in your stomach, let the smoke from it fill your lungs and weigh your heart till you burst.

Out of the seven boys, you've always turned to either him or Yoongi as they're older than you, so it came to nobody's shock when you break and told him.

“It just never gets better, I always feel guilty even if I didn’t choose. I’m just lucky I didn’t have to suffer through seven of these, I don’t think I could take it and just quit.”

It was a thought you’ve entertained when Taehyung came to you with his heart in his hand, giving it to you carelessly despite knowing how you’ve handled the other confessions. He was all dopey smiles and flushed cheeks, it continued even when you’ve pushed his heart back to him with an apologetic look.

Seeing the happy creases in his eyes iron out despite the huge boxy smile continuing to play on his lips, the existing pressuring guilt reawakened. Taehyung’s heart that gleamed and glowed gold, vulnerable for you to take and use from where it settled in the middle of his offering palms. You could’ve taken advantage of it all as they were rising in fame, when they were facing discrimination from the other companies and had found comfort in you but you didn’t.

Even with the attraction you've felt for them, you were nothing but a makeup artist to the company. Another asset to deploy and replace if it got annoying to handle. You couldn't risk your career on uncertainties, this is your dream job.

You loved them all equally and held them in the same regards as the others, they’re your best friends, chosen soul companions even without the marks to solidify it. 

They loved you and you loved them all but you wouldn't bet your life on an uncertain future.

“You should give us more credit, you know?” 

He says from the kitchen sink, the sound of water slowing into a halt. Seokjin didn’t move for a while. When he did, it was to place down the plates, washing his hands before turning around to face you.

“We’re grown adults now, we can handle rejection so don’t feel too bad about it. You can choose and we’d even help you keep it a secret from everyone besides us eight.”

It was genuine. Even in the haze of your intoxication, those words felt like a cool balm for your aching heart. While Namjoon’s words were cited research, formal and factual and Yoongi’s were calming droughts to ease the discomfort of sadness brought by gloomy thoughts, Seokjin speaks from the heart, true and unbiased but says it with a gentleness and care. 

Guilt sets like a boulder on your heart. Being able to feel, to experience such a privilege when all you've done is break his heart since your hunt for a husband, the weight in your chest multiplied and tears sprung from your eyes.

You wanted them but you couldn't risk your dream job, couldn't risk a friendship as precious as theirs for kisses and hugs that eventually has its ends.

You didn’t even notice it when he crossed the distance between you both and pulled you plush to his chest but you recognized the familiar sensation of plush lips pressing against your forehead.

If it lingered a few seconds past what's platonically allowed, you didn’t mention it.

Seokjin’s muted scent of freshly baked cakes brought silence to the rampaging waves of thoughts in your mind and if you pressed your nose flush to his chest to bury yourself in his fragrance, he didn’t say anything, bringing one hand behind your head protectively.

“I'm sorry to put you through this pain, Jinnie. I-I didn’t know.”

“I knew you didn’t know but I'll be fine... eventually.” He breathes out before leaning down to bury himself into the nest of your hair. "As long as you're happy, then I am too."

It was heavy, being loved and held so preciously even after you’ve turned him down, it felt cruel, sadistic even. But like the selfish woman you are, you accepted it. Soaked in his affections greedily.

“You know, he asked me to never show Guwon around you guys.”

He sighed. “I knew he would.”

“Do you want that as well?

Silence followed but you heard his answer loud and clear.

The second date happened after the first leg of the tour in Seoul.

Although planned suddenly, you appreciated the downtime after being lost in the haze of rushed outfit changes, reapplying makeup, and patting sweat from foreheads. If anything, you were thankful you could loosen up after earlier. The awkward tension didn’t go amiss, it only took Namjoon and Yoongi one look between you and Jungkook before taking charge on how the night progresses.

Yoongi didn't waste any time waving you over to ask for help for his makeup, even when he was already being prepped by one of your older colleagues, Ji hae. Thankfully, the woman lets you take over, saying she wanted a snack anyways.

The man didn't bother asking you what happened and settled comfortably in his chair but not before offering you the snack he bought earlier and was laying neglected on his lap. Yoongi asked about Guwon in a hushed voice, because while you were living in a reverse harem with most of his brothers, he was genuinely curious about your boyfriend-to-be.

Maybe it was the fact he has never admitted his affections for you that made it comfortable to discuss topics you could never talk about with the others with him, but you let your tongue a little loose.

And he listened.

Yoongi has always been a man of action not words, his love language has always been opening water bottles, blankets appearing from nowhere when you're passed out on their couch, and listening attentively. Despite what the world says about his nonchalance and silence, in your eyes, he's the sweetest guy on the roster—not that you'd tell Jimin that of course, he'd riot if he were to find out.

By the end of the concert, Guwon asks you on an impromptu date. A simple late night walk on a market nearby because there's apparently a food fair, and as usual, the expenses are on him. Hungry with a principle of never turning down free food, of course you accepted. 

Though you had a long time deciding whether to go or not with Jungkook’s confession still fresh.

Minutes later, he's waiting for you by the exit. The scene of him leaning on his Mercedes, waiting for you to reach him at the bottom of the stairs looks like it was pulled out of a kdrama.

Oddly enough, they didn’t question your lack of updates in the group chat but Jimin reached out later on and you suspect he told everyone your whereabouts instead, hopefully minus the date part to spare the others (read: Jungkook) from heartbreak.

The fair looked like a mirage of a paradise in the night hidden away in a small gently-lit up alley. The path was lightened up with gentle lanterns hung above you, the warm colors setting a more intimate scene. It wasn’t as luxurious as dinner from yesterday or as calming as the bike ride around the Han river but you appreciated it nonetheless.

You’re ready to drop dead but you pushed through, you wanted this relationship to work. Because then, maybe the monsters—your mother and her wide selection of personalities as well as aunties, her friends, trying to refer you to their horrible sons—haunting you from under your bed will finally leave you alone.

It was cruel that you’re using someone else to erase the memory of being professed to by one of your best friends.

Guwon was happy enough to take charge the whole date, leading you from food stall after food stall, ordering whatever your eyes lingered at which is half of what the fair offers. He understands your lack of responses as it is, tired from work, and talked enough for the both of you. Which you are grateful for.

He talked about his job and what happened that day, willingly telling you about the story of how he and his co-workers clicked back in College, never to part till now in the field they wanted. He spoke of his dreams, how he envisioned his dream home by the province surrounded by nature and the cat named Nabi waiting for him at home.

There's nothing more blatant of a signal than the last part, whether you accept it or not depends on you.

Normally, you would've frowned at the thought, immediately thinking of running away but as the night deepens and stalls start to close, the idea grows more and more tempting despite the logical voice in your head disagreeing. Seeking a distraction and possibly leading on a kind man is cruel, both to him and you.

But at the end of the day, it’s just an escape from the reality you're stuck in, a temporary answer to a long time problem. 

How harmful can it be? 

People had hookups before, you’ve had hookups before your mother has started a hunt for your husband this year so what are you so reluctant for? 

If this man is to be your husband, you should check your physical compatibility right?

You shivered. God, you sounded like one of those shitty guys you’ve dated before.

"Hey, the stalls just closed. Are you fine with me driving you back to your house?"

His voice cuts through your deep thoughts and you turn to him. Even in the dimly lit corner of the alley, Guwon looked attractive as ever with his dimpled smile and laid back attitude, his soft eyes gleaming under the lanterns, affections overflowing from his gaze and you. shuddered from its weight. 

Staring at the man, you wondered if you'd ever fall in love with him as he seemed right now.

Soon enough, you both arrive in front of your apartment building. However, not every plan goes through as you thought it'd go and you find two familiar figures rushing down to meet you. 

Taehyung didn't hesitate to run up to you with open arms and a wide smile. He didn't even care that you both almost toppled over if it wasn't for Guwon hand supporting you from the back.

"Wh-why are you two here? Shouldn't you guys be resting?"

Jimin shrugged but you caught the mischievous glint in his eyes as a small smile tugs his lips. "Hyung got so worried and wanted us to make sure you got home safely."

"Even a thumbs up would be great but you ignored every text and call! Jin hyung panicked and sent us out, if you didn't come home, he would've had a huge manhunt for you." Taehyung chimed in, pulling away but keeping his hands on your shoulders as he stared deep into your eyes, as if trying to hypnotize you into believing them.

Jimin snickered. “Yoongi hyung was an hour away from declaring you missing so the good dongsaengs we are, we decided to camp outside your apartment.”

You would've accepted his explanation, it was logically sound yet the dark glint of mischief and something else in his eyes as his gaze bounced from you to Guwon told you a different story.

They've always had to interrupt your dates when it becomes sour but this was the first time they've confronted a potential partner outside the intentions of ruining a date because you wanted it to suck.

This was them laying their claim over their own, a silent statement. A declaration you try not to think so much about, fearing you'd dig yourself deep and fall to your death.

“These must be one of your kids?” Guwon asks from behind, reminding you of his presence and you turn to him with an apologetic look.

“Yeah, Taehyung and Jimin. I practically raised them.”

Jimin scoffs and your head snapped to him, widening your eyes in warning to which he ignored. “Just because you’re a year older, doesn’t mean you could say you raised us you know?”

“See what I deal with everyday?” 

Guwon laughs lightheartedly before patting your head to get your attention. “Since your kids are here to protect you, I should get going now.”

“Drive safely.”

“See you soon?”

“Definitely.”

Then he placed a haste kiss on the edge of your lips, catching you off guard and you froze. Guwon was already in his car by the time you realized what happened and turned to chastise him. You couldn't even knock on the passenger window when the arms coiled around your shoulders tightened and tugged you close.

Letting Guwon kiss you in front of one of the men who confessed to you once was the first mistake, second was looking up at Taehyung whose hug is starting to hurt.

Gone were the usual giddiness and child-like enthusiasm that would pour from his eyes. It was replaced by a colder glare, almost blank and emotionless as it narrowed behind you and jaw locked tight. There was something primal in the way his hand behind your head was pushing you closer to him as if he was hounding over his game from another predator.

Goosebumps prickled your skin awake.

If butterflies exploded in your stomach and ignited a molten heat in your abdomen at that very moment, it's a secret you’d take to your grave.

“Tae?”

“Noona, I think we should head inside. It's getting cold.” Jimin’s sweet voice sounded forced and you resisted the urge to look at him.

While their reaction to being challenged is obvious, you couldn't, for the life of you, figure out why he should feel like that when he’s been seeing other people since his confession. From your past dates where he attended as one of your escape plans, he’s  never expressed such an intense show of displeasure so you thought his fleeting crush had passed.

Until tonight.

When Taehyung pulled away, the traces of his hostility were gone and you had to double take at how vastly different he's appearing now. He has his lower lip pushed out into a pout, eyes wide with mirth as he reaches up to cup your cheeks, his warm palms heating your cold-nipped skin.

“Aigoo, you're so cold noona. Let's go in and binge that foreign show you've been following.”

With hands now intertwined, he leads you inside the building where Jimin was already standing inside and was holding the door open for you both. You were being tugged into your own home yet you couldn’t help but feel tense as Taehyung and Jimin welcomed you back in with the same dark look you saw earlier.

[ythankucaptainmccoy]

Tyler Owens x Reader (Oneshot)

Alright here ya go guys a Tyler Owens oneshot! WARNINGS: Attempted Assault and Major Fluff (Also Tyler Owens being the protective man we know he would be)

The Oklahoma skyline was beautiful as you got your van ready to go. You had gone storm chasing with your uncle when you were younger and he passed all of his stuff to you. When your parents had died you didn’t know what to do with yourself, but your uncle had swooped in and started teaching you about weather. He taught you everything you knew, but he had gotten to a point where he could no longer keep up. So here you were in your small travel van setting up your equipment.

The weather was predicted to produce some tornadoes today. Watching the radar you could see a very strong looking storm forming and from where you were you could tell this one was going to be a good one. You packed everything in the van quickly and headed towards the storm. Your job was to photograph the storms and sell your photos to news outlets and things of that nature as well as selling the photos that didn’t make the cut online for a little extra cash. 

You had set up at a perfect spot and started taking pictures as the funnel started to come down. The pictures were soon to be ruined as you heard a familiar song blaring from a red truck. Tyler fucking Owens ruining another photo op for you. He pulled up beside you with the radio blaring. “Howdy (Y/N) fun day for storms!”, he yelled before speeding off. You didn’t want to edit your photos as you wanted them to be genuine. 

You walk back to your van and sit watching as Tyler takes off towards the tornado as per usual. The rest of the day continued like this and by the time you pulled into the motel parking lot other storm chasers had taken it over. You got a room and pulled your ringing phone out of your pocket. “Hello?”, you answered. “Hi (Y/N) this is Pam with the publishing market we were wondering when the next set of photos would be coming in. The deadline is tonight and we haven’t received any photos”, she explains. 

“I understand. I do have some photos that I can send over of the storms and the beginnings of the tornadoes”, you state. “Well we were hoping to have fully formed tornadoes for some magazine covers. A partially formed tornado or the beginning of the storm is not what we are looking for. Like I said, the deadline is tonight. If you can’t deliver the photos we are looking for we will have to find another photographer. I have to go. Goodbye”, Pam said as she hung up.

If looks could kill your phone would have combusted right there in your hand as you walked through the parking lot to your room. “Oh (Y/N). Pretty good tornadoes today”, Tyler called to you. “I wouldn’t know”, you huffed. “How could you not? There was one right after the other today”, Boone said. “Oh I don’t know I haven’t been able to photograph any without that eyesore of a truck getting into any of my shots”, you state angrily. “You know they have photoshop these days”, Tyler said.

“Except in order to get paid by the publishing market they have to be unaltered, but you YOUTUBERS wouldn’t know anything about that. Not that it matters because the deadline was tonight”, you seethed. Tyler’s team looked at each other at your outburst. You turned to leave as you could feel the angry tears forming and headed toward your room. The shower helped calm you down as you knew that the cash online wouldn’t be enough to keep funding your chasing. 

You were going to have to call an end to your season before it truly started. Tyler and his crew didn’t mean any harm and you felt bad for taking your frustration out on his team. That night you scrounged some photos you had taken last year and sent them in hoping they would take them. Your phone rang and this time it was your uncle so you answered it. “Hey how’s my tornado photographer doing?”, he asked. “It’s going great. Lots of great storms today”, you said. 

“So are you going back out tomorrow?”, he asked. “Yeah hoping to see some great tornadoes tomorrow”, you sigh. “You didn’t get any photos today that you needed for the publisher did you?”, he questioned. “No, the deadline was tonight. I sent in some photos I had taken last year so hopefully they will work, but I doubt it”, you reply. “Do you need any money? I can wire you some if you need it”, he told you.

“No I have enough and besides all I need to do is get some awesome shots and next thing you know they will be begging to use my photos”, you say. “Well if you need anything don’t hesitate to call”, he tells you. “I will. I’ll talk to you later. Night”, you say. He bids you goodnight and hangs up. You feel like you had failed your uncle since he couldn’t do the whole storm chasing anymore, but also because you knew that you only had enough money to make it to the end of the week. 

Sleep didn’t come easy that night, but when your alarm went off the next morning you hit the road. Stopping at a gas station to grab some coffee to wake you up you spotted Tyler and his group coming in as well. You continued to watch the radar while sipping your coffee. Boone waved at you which you returned as he was sweet as could be. On the other hand when Tyler waved you just rolled your eyes and went back to watching the radar. 

Your laptop alerted to an email and you knew exactly what it was, but pulled it into your lap and opened it. Sure enough an email from the publishers informing you that the deadline wasn’t  met and that you were technically out of a job. You groaned in frustration as you were now very much screwed. Then as if your day couldn’t get worse you spotted your ex best friend with another storm chasing team. She was more about the glamor of storm chasing than the feel and beauty of storm chasing. 

She started walking over to you and you put on a fake smile as she approached. “I can’t believe you’re here”, she says loudly. “Yepp here I am”, you respond. “I thought you would have run out of money already”, she laughs. “Well I’m a scrapper I’ll be here as long as the storms are”, you reply. “Well I got a call from the publishers and they decided to pick my pictures for their magazines”, she flaunted. She knew that it was your dream to become a world renowned storm photographer. 

“That’s great”, you replied. “Oh my team is coming back I gotta go”, she announced. She went back to her group as you fought the anger that was brewing. You had been best friends for years, but when the Twisted Gang leader asked her to join them and be his girlfriend she left you in the dust. You had no idea that Tyler heard the whole conversation and that you had lost your job essentially. A storm was forming as you packed up the rest of your gear and headed out.

You had better luck today than before as this tornado you were able to get great shots of. The whole day was perfect as you snapped photo after photo of the tornadoes, but then by the late afternoon there was that eyesore of a truck in the way. The pictures you had would be great to get you off the ground with the publishers so you called it a day. You checked your bank account and decided to sleep in your van since you had a shower last night. 

You emailed the publishers, but they replied that they had found another source. You were disappointed as you willed the tears away. You were just going to have to try harder tomorrow and get the perfect shots. You were setting up the small awning/tent your uncle had gifted you for your birthday up when Tyler and his crew pulled into the lot. You hadn’t eaten since that morning, but you had gone over numbers in your head and decided skipping meals today would extend the money a little bit. 

You watched as Boone set up a small grill then Tyler took over the cooking for the group. You pulled out your sketchbook and started to sketch Tyler and the rest of his group. It had been a hobby of yours when you and your uncle had strom chases in the past. Tyler would glance at you every once in a while watching you work trying to figure out what you were working on. You had to admit that Tyler was handsome as much as he could be a pain. 

You were almost finished when you saw Boone heading towards you. “Hey the group wanted to know if you wanted to join us for dinner”, he said. You were about to say no until you saw his puppy look and agreed to come over. “Well look who decided to join us”, Tyler joked. “I only came over because Boone is too convincing and there was free food”, you snarked. Tyler’s smile only widened as you pulled out your sketchbook again. 

Tyler and Boone worked effortlessly to plate food and distribute it. You had just finished your sketch as Tyler walked over with a plate for you. “What ya workin’ on?”, he asks. “Oh just a sketch nothing more”, you reply as you take the plate and dig in. Tyler snatches the sketchbook as you try to protest when he lands on the page you were just working on. He admires the sketch, but he can’t help but notice how much detail you have put into him in this sketch. You had captured him perfectly in the moment as he looked at you. 

“(Y/N) this is amazing”, he admires. “Thanks”, you whisper. Once you were done eating you thanked the Tornado Wrangler’s team and headed for your van. You pulled some covers out and put a chair up. The night was startinging to get cold as you wrapped your blanket around yourself. You weren’t asleep for long when the wind started to pick up and it started raining hard. You frantically start packing everything away into the van, but by the time you got everything in you were already soaked to the bone.

You climbed in and pulled the side door shut as the rain hit hard. The rain didn’t seem like it would be stopping any time soon so you decided to run for the small vending machines under the balcony of the second story motel. You had just got your soda and sat there for a minute as the air seemed to get colder. “Hi honey want to come in and get warm?”, a voice called out. The man standing in the doorway of his motel room was disheveled and greasy looking. “No thanks I’m good”, you responded. He walked out of his room and approached you as you tried to stay some distance away from him.

“Look I’m not interested”, you say loudly. It was late and no one was in the parking lot with this type of rain. “Look I think I could warm you up come on”, the guy said creepily. “I said I’m good”, you said even louder. He was getting too close as you told him to back off and when he grabbed you pushing you against the wall you screamed. “SHUT UP”, he bellowed. You didn’t as his other hand went to your chest. A blur to your left caught you off guard as a resounding thud filled your ears and the man that was holding you against the wall went flying. 

When your brain caught up you realized the man had been punched, and when you look to your left Tyler stands there like a raging bull. His nostrils flare as the heat in his gaze tells you all you need to know that he is angry. He strides forward grabbing the man by the shoulder and pulling him up and pushing him against the wall. “How does it feel, jackass”, Tyler growled. You stood there as he held the man against the wall and punched him again. 

“Tyler”, you whispered. He hit the man again before you found your voice again, “Tyler!”. He stopped and turned toward you to take you in making sure you weren’t hurt. “If you ever touch ‘er again I’ll kill ya’ understand”, Tyler drawled. He threw the man to the ground and made his way over to you. “Are you okay?”, he asked. You nodded as a shiver ran through your body. “I’ll walk you back to your room”, he says. “Oh I’m staying in my van”, you respond. 

Tyler looks as if you slapped him with your confession. “No you’re not sleeping in that van. You can stay with me. You can take a shower and have the bed. I’ll take the floor”, he says. You don’t even get to protest as he starts walking you towards his room. Once in the room Tyler goes into the bathroom to start the shower as the realization hits you that that man could have done something horrible to you had it not been for Tyler.

You slid to the floor as the first choked sob hit you. Tyler must have heard it because he was kneeling in front of you cupping your face into his hands. “I got ya’ (Y/N). You’re alright sweetheart”, he soothed. “He could have…have..”, you hiccuped. “No sweetheart I’d never let that happen to ya’ just breathe for me”, he tried. He let you cry as he pulled you up and helped you into the bathroom to let you sit on the sink.

He waited until you had stopped crying as you became silent. “The shower is hot and here are a pair of sweats, t-shirt and hoodie if you want it”, he tells you. “I’ll be right outside this door if you need me sweetheart”, he tells you. You nod at him as he closes the door leaving you alone in the bathroom. You shed your wet clothes and climb into the hot shower as it chases some of the chill from you. After getting done you dry off and pull on all of the clothes he had left you pulling a hoodie that swallowed you and smelled like Tyler over your head. 

You quickly style your hair and walk into the main room as Tyler was making a small cot on the floor. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor. I don’t mind sharing the bed. I trust you”, you tell him. He seems to deliberate his options as you wait for him to decide. “After you then”, he says. You climb in as he waits for you to get settled then climbs into his side. “Thank you”, you say softly. “You’re welcome sweetheart”, he replied.

You were shivering within a few minutes and Tyler noticed. “Come ‘ere I’m not gonna’ let ya’ freeze tonight”, he says. He lays on his side and pulls you to his chest as you look up at him. “You know you’re nothing like what the other chasers say you are”, you say. “Well I appreciate it”, he chuckles. You take him in and realize even with how much you bickered with him or fought over his eyesore of a truck getting in your photos you had fallen for him.

Tyler furrows his brows as you bring your hand up and trace his lips with your fingers. His breath seems to catch as you take in his facial features before you come back to his eyes that you swear can see straight to your soul. Without hesitating you slowly lean up towards him to give him plenty of time to back out, but he stays pupils dilating slightly in the glow of the lamp on the table beside the bed. 

You close your eyes as does he as your lips meet. Tyler lets you lead as you test the waters by nipping at his bottom lip. He smiles then and presses his lips a little harder against yours then full on kisses the breath out of you. When you both pull away you're both smiling and Tyler reaches up to place a strand of hair behind your ear. You both share some more kisses until Tyler cuts you off. “I’m a gentleman and I think that’s enough for tonight. Another thing you’re riding with us tomorrow and no protests. I’m going to help you get your job back”, he tells you. 

You sleep like a rock that night in Tyler’s arms and the next morning he wakes you. The Tornado Wrangler team watches as you walk to your van dressed in Tyler’s clothes with little smiles of their own. When you come back with your camera Tyler lets the team know you would be joining them for the day. Tyler made sure to drive you right up and into some of the tornadoes giving you amazing shots that were guaranteed to get your job back. Tyler was smiling and happy as you rode shotgun as Boone would load the rockets in the back seat.

As the team took a break Tyler watched you from a distance playing with your camera. He had to admit he loved when you would call his truck an eyesore and go toe to toe with him. He wanted to hear your voice more often and see your smile. “I’m gonna’ aske ‘er to join the team”, Tyler tells Boone. “I like her already so you know I don’t have a problem”, Boone says. The other team members agree as Tyler announces it’s time to roll as another cell starts to look better by the minute.

By the end of the day you submit your photos and receive an immediate response. The job was yours again and you ran to tell Tyler. In your excitement you run and tackle him in a hug that ends with you both crashing to the ground. “I got my job back”, you exclaim. “That’s amazing I knew you could do it sweetheart”, he tells you. The other Wrangler team members turn away as if they found something better to do as Tyler pulled you down to kiss him. “Chase with us. With me?”, Tyler asked. You sat there stunned for a moment and then you nodded saying yes. Tyler was excited to bring you into the fold. “Even if you have to ride in my truck”, he jokes. “I’ll follow you and that eyesore anywhere”, you reply as you share a kiss there in the parking lot.

[hiiikiko]

𝕛𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕤, 𝕛𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕤, 𝕛𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕘𝕚𝕣𝕝 [4] : casual

“I’m not jealous..”

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ellie williams x fem!reader | friends with benefits ft. sub!ellie

casual m.list | tlou m.list

tw: smut, jealous, confusing relationships, public sex

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While getting ready for tonight’s concert, Ellie was hanging all over you, peppering your neck with kisses, grabbing your waist, and staring at you with lust filled eyes while you got dressed. You could tell that her need was getting the better of her and it was frustrating her because no matter what she did, you wouldn’t give into her smooth one liners or the lingering touches. Eventually, she groaned and left the apartment.

You couldn’t help but giggle at how mad Ellie looked, you would feel bad right now if it weren’t for her doing the same thing to you countless times.

You smiled a little as you walked into the bar, smoke filling your nostrils and the sound of glasses clinking, it was a familiar feeling now, almost like you came home, it was nice. You made your way to the back of the bar where the rest of your band was, Manny was plucking at his guitar strings and making sure each string was in the right note while he talked to Owen about how he may or may not have banged Owen’s ex-girl’s brother’s dog’s groomer’s daughter’s pre-school teacher.

“Hey,” you muttered, the cigarette on your lips dangling by the side of your mouth as you got a cup of water ready.

“Oh, hey,” Abby muttered, her eyes lingering on you for a moment before turning to Manny and hitting him in the chest with his drumsticks, making you giggle. Sure, you didn’t have as much history with these guys as you did in your last band but, they were starting to feel like home.

“So, let’s go over the set list again,” Abby pulls out a paper with some sloppy handwriting on it, must be Owens, “So first..”

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Finally, the concert was beginning, you took a few deep breaths, sucking in the familiar taste of smoke and washing it down with some ice cold water. The band had gained some attention since they brought you on, even some familiar faces from your old band’s crowds were seen in the bar. Not to mention, Ellie’s band mates were here which meant a few of their ‘groupies’ were also here.

“Hey, how’s everyone doin’ tonight?” Manny yelled into his mic, eliciting more than a few cheers from the girls in the crowd, no doubt his own groupies. You had to thank Manny, actually, if he didn’t get around like an un-neutered dog, you might not have a crowd this big.

You take a step closer to the mic, wrapping your hand around the cold metal, “So the first song we’ll be singin’ t’night is a newish song, ‘s called ‘May Your Survival be Long,’ or alternatively, ‘May your Death be Swift.’”

The drums began, you could feel the beat of them rushing through you, it almost felt like your heartbeat was synchronized with them, then the guitar began, matching the blood coursing through your veins, finally, it was your cue to begin.

The song was actually a lot more popular than you thought it’d be, not that you ever doubted your song writing abilities.

Even though the crowd cheered you on and the drums made your brain go fuzzy, you couldn’t help but think about Ellie. You could feel her eyes on you but couldn’t see her through the stagelights and smoke filled room but you knew, those green eyes were watching your every move. Hell, you felt like YOU were the one being hunted by a wolf, pretty ironic right?

The concert came to an end, you gargled salt water, Abby greeted some girls in the crowd, Owen was packing up the tech equipment, and Manny was leaning against the stage while accepting a free drink from a very pretty girl. Your eyes went back to Abby, her strong arms easily being able to put her drums back in their cases.

“Good set,” you turn to see Jesse, “That song, uh, ‘May Your Death be Long’ ain’t half bad, now maybe if you—.”

You scoff, “Oh, shut it,’ Jesse feigns being offended and chuckles.

“Nah but seriously, that was really good, very, mm, Foo Fightersish I really..”

Jesse continued while your eyes scanned the bars, “Hey, the rest of your band here?”

“What? Oh, Dina was here but she left early, said she felt sick. Didn’t even stay for a drink and Ellie’s over there but she’s been out of it all night, dunno why.”

You hum, your eyes immediately darting to scan the bar and there she was, leaning against it while sipping on what looked like whiskey while a girl was practically throwing herself at her. Ellie glances at you and smirks before downing her drink and pulling the chatty girl in for a kiss, shutting her up. You roll your eyes and walk towards the restroom, you could feel the sweat from earlier still on your face, only now it was dry and made you feel gross.

Looking in the mirror, your mascara is a little smeared and your eyeliner almost completely off, then you splash the cold water over your face. Refreshing, the icy water waking you up and making you forget all about the redhead but then, you feel strong hands wrap around your waist.

“You looked pretty good up there,” a raspy, smooth voice whispers against your ear.

You reach for a paper towel and wipe your face before pushing the hands off your waist, “Yeah? I did didn’t I, well, I at least looked good enough for you to be hangin’ all over some girl, right?” You scoff.

“Ohh, someone’s jealous,” Ellie smirks.

“I’m not jealous,” you trail off, you were jealous and it was getting harder to hide. You were never to fond of sharing but you knew that Ellie wasn’t yours, even after all the times you’ve hooked up.

“Mhm and my eyes aren’t green,” she laughs, “Just admit it, you’re jealous,” her hands rub against your sides and her neck is buried in your neck.

You turned around, wrapping your arms around her slim neck, skilfully reeling her in, bringing her body closer to yours. The heat warming you up, almost like you had been drinking, Ellie’s chest pressed firmly against yours, her lips trailing down from your neck to your collarbones.

“See? Knew you wanted this too,” Ellie’s big mouth says, making your mind fill with frustration, god, she really just wouldn’t shut up, huh?

You’ve had it, you wrap your hands around her waist and push her up against the sink, her eyes filled with surprise but a small smirk still playing on her pretty pink lips, taunting you.

You shove your hand past her belt and into her jeans, fuck, “Aww, so wet f’me, pretty girl?”

Ellie’s face erupts into a blush, you can tell she’s never been treated like this before, “N-no..”

“Aw, don’t lie to me,” you smile against her neck, she’s trying her best to bite back her whimpers as your masterful fingers work at her clit, making her legs tremble a little, she’s really sensitive tonight.

“‘M not, fuck,” she accidentally lets out a pretty loud moan, the blaring music outside covering it, “Y/n, ‘s not do this here, w-what if someone sees?”

Her eyes dart to the unlocked door, “Ha, what’s wrong Williams, scared someone’s see the big bad bassist meltin’ under my touch,” you emphasize your sentence by nudging her clit with your knuckle as you make your way to her pretty hole.

She whimpers and her thighs shut around your hand, “N-no..”

“Good girl,” you whisper into her ear as your fingers make their way into her sopping wet hole, making her bite into your neck and whimper.

“Y/n, s’ too much,” she whimpers, her arms wrapping themselves around your neck, her body’s betraying her body, you can feel how her greedy hole is sucking your fingers in, she’s been looking forward to this all night, you’re the one smirking now, “Yeah? I can feel how bad you’ve wanted this.. so fuckin’ greedy,” you giggle.

Ellie’s face is now red, “Fuck you.”

The smirk is wiped off your face as your free hand wraps itself around her pretty long neck as the tips of your fingers press into the side of her neck, being careful of not crushing her throat, “Wanna say that again?”

Ellie clenches around your fingers at the feeling of you squeezing, “N-no, ‘m sorry.”

You smile, “Hm, good girl,” you begin to pump your fingers in and out of her pussy, she’s moaning like a whore now, forgetting all about her ‘big bad bassist’ persona and letting herself melt into your touch, “You deserve a treat, don’t ya think, Els?”

She nods feverishly, you peck her on the cheek and sit her up on the sink, “Take your pants off f’me,” she nods and hurriedly takes her pants off, almost forgetting to take off her belt.

You get on your knees and gently spread her legs, her pretty green eyes boring into yours, pleading for you to touch her. Instead of going straight for her pretty cunt, you gently kiss the inside of her thighs, slowly making your way up.

Ellie grumbles and wraps her hands into your hair, she tries to pull your head closer to her neglected pussy.

“Uh uh,” you shake your head, “Not yet, remember all the times you teased me, hm? This is what you get.”

Ellie whimpers like a dog that just kicked, “‘M sorry, jus-just need you.”

You giggle, enjoying how pathetic she’s acting, “Maybe if you beg, I’ll be more generous.”

Ellie’s eyes are conflicted, then suddenly, they are filled with lust, “P-please! I’ll do anything, please, jus wanna feel good.”

You stand up, your finger lifting her chin up so her eyes would meet yours, “Okay, but if I do this, you gotta do somethin’ f’me, alright?”

She smiles and nods, “Y-yeah, of course, anythin—.”

Before she could finish her sentence, you were already on your knees, pumping your fingers back into her greedy hole and your tongue was working at her clit.

Ellie covers her mouth, her legs wrapping themself around her head, locking you in place, “S’good.”

Ellie taste so sweet, it’s making your own cunt needy so your hands work their way into your panties and rub circles against your needy clit, your whimpers vibrating against Ellie’s, causing her to arch her back and pull your head in closer to her, then, before you knew it.. your face was covered in her slick and her legs had gone slack.

“That good, huh,” you stand up and smirk at her.

“S-shut up,” she rolls her eyes and gets off the sink, pulling her pants up and buckling her belt.

“H-hey, not so fast, Williams, you still owe me,” she smirks as you pull he in by her belt, her lips about to meet yours when you’re interrupted.

“Hey, Y/n—,” your eyes dart to the door, oh shit, “ W-what the fuck?”

It’s Abby and, shit, she looks pissed. She shuts the door and makes her way to Ellie who’s smirking and leaning against a stall, “Of course, Williams, of course, you’d do something like this.”

Ellie smirks and looks at the blonde, “Jealous, Anderson, huh? Some leader you are, can’t even keep your lead singer away from me.”

Abby’s eyes look like they’re only seeing red, she’s about to swing, her fist is clenched, and one foot drawn back to take one forward.

You step in front of her before she can do anything rash, your hands on her bicep, Ellie’s eyes narrow in on your hands, “Come on, Abs, just go.”

Abby scoffs when she looks at you, “God, you can’t be this fuckin’ stupid, Y/n, she’s using you, not like that’d be the first time.”

Ellie scoffs, what did that mean? But before she could say anything, you blurt out, “No, she’s not, Abs, we’re just hooking up,” you blush.

“Mhm, bet you are ‘just hooking up’,” she scoffs, obviously, she doesn’t believe you.

“We are!” you yell, as Abby leaves the bathroom but not before turning around and saying, “We’ll talk about this later,” her blue eyes dart towards Ellie who’s still smirking.

The door shuts, if it weren’t for they music still pumping out there, the bathroom would’ve been dead silent, then, Ellie’s laugh echoes throughout the room.

“Fuck, did you see her face?” she laughs, her arm wrapping around you, “Fuck, that was hilarious!”

You don’t join in her laughter, you shrug yourself out from underneath her arm.

“What’s wrong, don’t tell me what she said got to you?” Ellie’s voice is still lingering with laughter.

“What she said, what does that mean? ‘Not like that’d be the first time.’”

Ellie’s smile falters, “I-It’s nothin’, she’s just tryin’ to get to you,” her hands wrap around your waist as she try’s to pull you in.

You push her off, “Didn’t sound like nothing?”

She groans and leans against the sink, “Fuck, you’re acting like we aren’t ‘just hooking up,’ why would you give a fuck about my past, huh? ‘Sides if you’re so worried, why don’t you ask your drummer?” She rolls her eyes.

“Maybe, I will,” and with that you leave the bathroom and look for Abby.

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taglist: @elliessweetheart @bready101 @elliecoochieeater @sevyscoven