#*so* much pressure was taken off their shoulders when they got into the zones though because they're generally more accepting

[poplarste]

uhhhhhh that tiktok (thanks @peter-pantomime, hope you don’t mind the tag) that points out that Eddie coulda zipped up his leather jacket and tac vest combo and maybe not been eaten by bats, but it’s Eddie saying “Steve? [significant pause] Make him pay” and Steve taking a step forward to zip up his jacket and saying something cheesy

...upon reflection i didn’t think i was actually going to sit here and write this all in one go but lo and behold i’m supposed to be working on an article shhhh

further update: this is now on ao3 Something crosses Steve’s face when Eddie points out that he and Dustin are nooooooot heroes, but Eddie ignores it in favor of indulging himself, just for a second, watching the set of the three heroes’ shoulders as they move toward Creel House.

“Hey, Steve?” It’s out of his mouth before he can stop himself, some unchained impulse to at least let Steve know Eddie respects the fuck out of him now, just in case they both die.

The real heroes turn back, waiting.

“Make him pay.”

Steve retreads those last few steps, back over to Eddie and Dustin, claps a hand to Eddie’s leather-clad shoulder, the sound of it drowned out by sickening red thunder. He leaves his hand there, too, and Eddie’s confusion is only silenced by the thudding of his heart when Steve’s free hand comes up to his chest.

He tugs at the teeth of Eddie’s War Zone vest, real live actual tactical armor to replace the battle vest that Steve’s still got over his fresh War Zone shirt and under his fresh War Zone jacket, for reasons Eddie doesn’t have the brain power to contemplate. It doesn’t seem at all like him -- they’ve been all tense and snarky at each other (and Eddie supposes he gets why) since he’d pinned Steve to that boathouse wall and held glass to his throat. That felt like a lifetime ago, though. They’d been different people then, or at least, Eddie thought maybe he had been.

“You should zip up,” he tells Eddie, like he’s actually saying something else. “You’ll catch your death.”

Eddie does not catch his death, though the blood under Dustin’s fingernails from keeping pressure on his neck loudly proclaims just how close they came. He knows it’s just luck that he didn’t bleed out anyway -- a couple inches toward his chin and he’d be just as mangled as the poor, brave vest Robin had insisted on confiscating for cremation later -- but now that the anesthetic has worn off and the fever has gone and the fresh stitches in his face and neck start to itch like a lot, actually, it occurs to him that if Steve Harrington hadn’t taken that one moment of absolute character-breaking insanity, Eddie’d have been ripped apart. Bled out, there on the rocky ground of the Upside Down, probably all over Dustin since the little shit had come after him anyway.

Fucking kid. Eddie loves him so goddamn much.

But back to Steve, and his incomprehensibly tender moment in the middle of the apocalypse.

Once they were all patched up and cleared and definitely not rabid, thank you Robin, they’d been released. Free to go. Nary an NDA in sight, just a withering look from Agent Stinson and an edict to just “please, for the love of God lay low until we sort this out.”

Cool, as far as Eddie’s concerned. He’s too busy not scratching at his stitches and reeling over Steve inadvertently saving his life. Eventually, he can’t resist the urge. The line rings and he fidgets with the cord.

“Robin,” says the voice after the ringing ends, no greeting at all. “For the last time, I’m not rabid, none of the blood tests showed any scary Upside Down shit, everything is --”

“Steve.”

Steve stops on the other end. Which is fair, really, since Eddie’s literally never called him on anything that’s not a walkie talkie before, and that was mostly incidental. “Eddie. What’s going on, man?”

The edge in his voice is subtle, enough to dismiss and make the question either casual or an alarm bell, but Eddie doesn’t miss it. He just gets to the point, and Steve-on-the-other-end can do with it what he will. Eddie’s not his mom. But Wayne raised him right even if the rest of Hawkins doesn’t think so, so he’s gotta say something. “You know you saved my life, right? The jacket thing. Down in... Before we split the party.”

“What?”

“You told me to zip up my jacket, and the vest,” Eddie insists. “I’d have been chewed up like a cheap dog bone if you hadn’t. I just. Thanks, man.”

Steve’s quiet on his end of the line. At first, Eddie thinks maybe he’s just stunned that The Freak has any manners, but as the silence stretches on, he begins to wonder if actually the line’s been cut or something.

“Steve? Buddy? Steeeeeeeve,” he croons into the phone. “You OD on pain meds over there or something?” Steve, having been significantly more chewed up and run around on it far longer than Eddie, had been stuck in the hospital for several days with a high-grade fever, after all was said and done and Vecna was burnt up to a crisp. None of it had seemed particularly Upside-Down-y, just regular exhaustion, dehydration, and good old rampant infection, but once he’d been released, Eddie had it on good authority that he was a champ about taking antibiotics and an absolute nightmare about taking the pain pills they’d given him for all of the…everything on his back, arms, and sides.

There’s a strangled noise from down the phone line, and Eddie wonders if the phone actually is fucked. Before he can ask, though –

“Guess I did, huh?” Steve’s voice is soft. “Don’t mention it.”

Eddie scoffs a little, playful but casual. “Don’t worry, I don’t want to think about it much, either.” Steve actually does let out a chuckle at that, and Eddie grins, since there’s no chance of anyone seeing and calling him on it. What, then, is the harm? It’s just a little hero crush. “Hey, I’ll let you go, man. See you around, when Buckley lets you rejoin society.”

Steve groans just a little at that. “Yeah. Robin.”

“Robin,” Eddie agrees. “Later, Steve.”

And then Steve’s voice is all soft again, like it was when Eddie thanked him, like it was when he told Eddie to zip up his vest, and now – “Yeah. Later, Eddie.” There’s a lingering silence on the line, like Steve’s waiting in case Eddie has more to say.

Eddie hangs up first, and resolutely doesn’t think about it.

Who doesn’t get crushes on heroes, anyway.

#poplarste.mp3 #poplarste.fic #steddie ficlet #steddie #is it a ficlet if it's 1k and change??????? #catch me double checking the scene while writing this #and finding to my delight that indeed there is a thunderclap and some red lightning right there where i'd already written it in #this was NOT supposed to be 1000 words. #there's an expanded version in my head where Eddie tries to act normal about his crush in public and is a total bitch about it #but even this much is more than i expected to write right now at this moment when i'm SUPPOSED to be doing other things so. enjoy i guess? #for clerical reasons: the plan worked vecna's dead eddie has no idea he likes men but steve DOES and IS flirting on purpose

[writer-realm]

All throughout your childhood and teen years, your grandmother had always had a strange but very firm set of rules. Living out in the middle of the forest, almost a full days walk from town, naturally came with many dangers, all of which you had been taught how to handle at a young age. The rules your grandmother always stressed however, had always been different.

Rule one: Never answer any call or speak to anyone whilst outside of the house, even if it sounded like your grandmother.

Rule two: Never accept gifts from strangers you met in, or surrounding the forest, and always be cautious when accepting gifts whilst in town.

Rule three: Never leave the house without your iron dagger and iron wrist cuffs.

Rule four: Never leave the house or linger outside after the sun begins to set.

Rule five: Never answer the door, or calls from outside at night.

Rule six: Never stray from the path, no matter the circumstances.

Those rules, strange as they were, had been drilled into you since you were a child, your grandmother acting almost fanatic in her protection of you in your younger years. For a time, your grandmother had loosened her over protectiveness on you, allowing you some freedom as a young preteen and teen, though the rules always remained unchanging. You had used the opportunity to explore the town whenever you got the chance back then, something you had deeply enjoyed, even if the townsfolk did treat you a bit strangely.

Lately however, your grandmother seemed to have almost doubled her protectiveness of you, once again forcing you to stay where she could watch you, despite the fact that you were now an adult. It was stifling, but she was all that you had, and you refused to push her away just because she cared a little too much.

Today was one of the few days that she had relaxed her control a little, and you had rather eagerly taken the chance to go and spend some time out of the house, picking berries at a lovely little spot that was within one of your grandmother’s designated “safe zones”. Enamoured as you were, with the moment of peace, you almost didn’t notice as the sky began to turn pink with the setting of the sun.

With a pounding heart, you gathered up your basket and deftly dashed down the thin path, knowing the trail by heart. You knew if you were even a moment late, your grandmother would tighten her hold on you even more, something you really didn’t want to deal with.

You were only a few minutes away from the house, when you found yourself coming to a sudden stop.

Leaning against a tree up ahead, a tall figure was slumped, their shoulders rising and falling slowly and shakily with their breaths. Hesitantly, you started to move past them, only to freeze as you realised they were clutching a massive gash in their side, their fine clothing stained with their blood, and a trail of it leading from the direction you were headed.

Without thought, you fall to your knees before them, abandoning your basket as you tore off a section of your coat, carefully pressing it over the strangers wound. You were so intently focused on helping them stem the flow, that you never noticed as they flinched at the sight of your cuffs, only noticing as they began to lean back and away from you.

Letting out a soft sound of distress, you moved further forward Rule six, pressing your hand more firmly over the wound and ignoring the warmth of their blood quickly staining your hand.

Rule one “Please stay still, you need to keep pressure on it to stop the bleeding.”

Your voice timid and quiet as you spoke, eyes worried as you pressed more cloth over the wound, shifting closer still in your attempt to help. When no response came, you finally looked up, freezing when you found the stranger staring at you in awe and wonder, face no longer shielded by their long hair.

Your breath hitched as you took in the delicately pointed ears, their unnatural ethereal beauty, and the strange eyes that glowed softly in the dimming light Rule four. Entranced by the sight of them, you didn’t notice them moving until you felt their blood stained fingers ever so gently brushing over your cheek, as though to check if you were really there before them.

“….It’s you.”

You were surprised by their statement. What did they mean by it’s you? You couldn’t think about that now, this creature needed your help. You tell them to hold the cloth on the wound. Remembering how they backed away moments before, you take off your cuffs and roll up your coat sleeves and place your hands around the edge of the wound on the stranger’s side.

“Can you get home safely?” You ask the stranger who was still only staring at you. They looked down at their wound, seeming to be contemplating their answer to your question. They look back up at you and say,

“I don’t think I’ll be able to, is there anyway I could stay with-”

“No. Grandmother will kill you if I bring you to our home.” You didn’t want to sound harsh, but you knew that Grandmother would be absolutely furious if you brought a fae home. “Is there someone you could stay with who’s nearby here?” They looked at you, intrigued by your answer. They pondered your question, then responded.

“Yes, actually, just a few paces that way.”

Slight time skip

“My name is Cein, your royal highness.” You were stunned. You had helped him last night, but you don’t see what that has to do to make him call you “your royal highness”.

“Is this about last night on the path? I told you, it was no trouble.” He looked at you stunned, then seemed to look past you. You turned to see Elvy staring at you with eyes that were piercing blue, as if they were carved out of ice. That wasn’t their usual eye color though. You were used to seeing their eyes the color of deep green, like the forest trees. You know what this means. “You’re a fae? Or something else entirely?” You manage to say.  

#original writing #the bulk of this was a writing prompt I saw forever ago on tumblr #my writing actually starts after It's You. #original work

[sirwow]

Time for the first story of the AU, Following Lazarus and Azazel! PT 1 (CW for being pressured into drugs):

The story begins with Azazel, tired and zoned out, walking through the busy school halls. He’s cut off quickly though as Cain bumps him on the shoulder and Keeper joins in, laughing. Before Az can mumble out anything Cain spots Lazarus at his locker down the hall and grabs Az to pull him over and bully Lazarus for his cash again. Cain and Keeper nearly push Laz into his locker till he hands over the money he had and runs off while Az was standing off, clamped up. Once the bell rings and the teachers go into their classroom’s, Cain n Keeper pressure Azazel to come with them for a surprise by skipping class and the 3 go to downtown. Keeper takes them to a dark alley n talks to another greedling while Cain teases Az for chewing his nails but also tells him he won’t have to after this gift, confusing Az. Keeper comes back giving both a vape and Cain starts up his immediately but Az feels himself freeze while looking at the vape. Keeper notices and asks if Az is a chicken but Az deflects just saying he shouldn’t cus of his dad’s rules. Cain joins in keeper and they start mocking Az calling him chicken but when he doesn’t crack they get aggressive, holding him up against the wall. Az snaps under the pressure and agrees to try and vape but once he does he immediately starts to choke and falls on the ground coughing. Cain and Keeper help him up and as soon as he can get a breath in he throws the vape against the concrete and runs away teary eyed.

Azazel runs home and sulks in his room chewing his nails. His Older brother Dark one hears him come in and so goes to ask him what’s up and why he’s home so early. Az tells Dark what just happened n Dark encourages Az to not let them push him around so much. Az tries to defend their actions but Dark shuts that down saying if he got uncomfortable at all that’s not okay. Az thanks him and flies back to school for his last 2 classes but after his last class gets snagged by Cain again. He goes right back to his pushover state and he just tells him he can try to vape again later but first he and Keeper caught the scamp (Lazarus). Cain drags Azazel to the restroom where Keeper is busy holding Lazarus against the wall demanding all the rest of his cash but Laz says he has none. Keeper and Cain decide to go a bit further when Laz insists he has nothing and Keeper slams Laz into a near by toilet while Cain flushed it on him. Az has been standing to the side idle this whole time but seeing Laz struggle again sets something off in Az. When Keeper pulls Laz out of the water again, Az pulls Laz away by the arm and lets him run away. The 3 are silent for a moment till Cain and Keeper blow up at Az for doing that and for breaking the vape earlier. Az clams up again but this time Keeper grabs him by the hood and slams him into the toilet instead. Az loses track of time while this is happening but spins finds himself let go and allowed to breathe. When he looks up he spots Laz still soaking but with the principal and Cain n Keeper being taken off by a security guard. Laz helps up Az who thanks him but both part awkwardly quickly after with Az going home a bit conflicted emotionally.

Az the next week returns and finds out Cain and Keeper had been suspended for the week as punishment for the bullying. Az goes along his day alone and without them around sits alone at lunch as well. Laz spots Az sitting alone and never having thanked him earlier for saving him decides to sit next to him to do so. Being dumb awkward teens both don’t really say anything till Laz gets embarrassed and excuses himself to leave after saying thanks. Az stops Laz from leaving and tells him it’s okay to sit with him as it’s not like he has anyone else to sit by. Az n Laz are pretty awkward at first but over the week sitting together during lunch they become school friends, Az sharing his sketch book with Laz and Laz helping Az quickly finish his science homework before the class. The next week when Cain and Keeper return and try to grab Laz, Az stands up to both, threatening to fill Cain’s throat with sulfur if he doesn’t back off. Cain n Keeper fuck off and Laz asks why he did that and gets emotional when Az says he’s his friend.

End of Pt1, if ya got any questions about this I’m always open! Part 2 Here

#tboi au #tboi #forgotten keys #tboi writing

[racingliners]

Life In The Fast Lane Chapter 12 - 2023 Race 9: Great Britain

Rating: Teen & Up

Warnings: None apply

Pairings: Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s); OFCs & OMCs

Work Tags: Re-write of a previous work; Mentions of IRL current and past F1 figures; Eventual romance; friends to lovers; found family/work family; actual family; racing drivers and their various shenanigans; how to handle pressure (and how not to); with a sprinkling of the power of friendship; tags will be updated as work progresses

Chapter 12/57

Word count: 5.1k

Summary: Tensions and temperatures rise at the British Grand Prix

Saturday 8th July – Silverstone Circuit, Northamptonshire

The sky was still filled with glorious sunshine come Saturday morning. As James, Katie, Sophie and Richard arrived at the fan zone for their half-hour slot, they all let out a sigh of relief at being in the small but shaded area at the side of the stage. James swapped his sunglasses for his team cap while Sophie and Richard tried to peer through the curtains to see what mood the fans were in.

“That’s got to be the biggest crowd of the season…” Sophie muttered before pressing her lips together.

Generally, the further up the grid you were, the more attention you got from fans and the media. Yet McLaren was an exception this year on three counts. First because despite the fact that it had been five years since James had won the championship, he was still one of the most popular drivers on the grid. Though he was never quite sure if it was because of his looks, or because he was actually good at his job. Secondly, the team had slumped from the competitive end of the grid to the top of the midfield, and all the paddock press were wondering if it was going to be a one season blip, or the start of a downward spiral down the pecking order. And lastly, because of Sophie. Even before her podium in China her mere presence was enough to capture everyone’s attention.

James briefly let himself wonder what it would be like, to go out there with the weight of half the world on your shoulders, to make history with every single lap you drove at almost every single circuit, all on top of the regular level of pressure and expectations every other driver carried while trying to find her footing in her rookie season.

It sounded exhausting.

And yet, Sophie always greeted everyone she met with a warm, bright smile. Signing autographs for fans, taking pictures with them, VIP guests or people’s sisters, girlfriends, or nieces. She gave them every moment of time that she could spare. At least Richard was always there, either keeping her right or keeping her safe.

“Well, it is our home race,” Richard frowned. “Just remember-”

“I know, focus on how happy we are to have so much support from the fans… instead of our on-track problems.” Sophie looked up at her press officer with a knowing smile, while Richard just grinned and shook his head.

“Is it too late to swap drivers?” Katie jibed, jokingly elbowing James in the ribs. While he’d always been a natural in dealing with the media, it had taken him a good few months to get used to McLaren’s way of doing things when he joined the team.

“Excuse me, I am a delight to work with…” Everyone’s laughter was subdued, since they didn’t want to risk being spotted and take any attention away from Owen and Aaron from Aston Martin, who by the sounds of things were just wrapping up by saying one final piece to the crowd that got a loud cheer in return, before they clambered off the stage with their press officers in tow.

“Hey guys!” Aaron greeted his fellow drivers with a bright grin, and his accent sounding slightly thicker than normal. He must have been asked to speak to the fans in Welsh again. “Nice crowd out there! Though I’m pretty sure they’re all here for you” He chuckled. Almost immediately the McLaren and Aston Martin drivers were stood together for a few pictures for both team’s social media feeds, before Aaron and Owen had to run off for their slot at the autograph table.

“And now…” Lee Howard’s more excited tone of voice was more than enough to set a ripple amongst the gathered fans. “Our last drivers for this morning, and I know a lot of you have been waiting very patiently to see them. From McLaren,” Lee had to pause for a small cheer. “2018 world champion James Hewitt, and Sophie Knightsbridge!” James led the way onto the stage, flashing a bright smile to the cheering crowd as he and Sophie waved to as many people as they could. While there was a mix of different team colours on show – green for Aston Martin, blues for Williams and Red Bull, and black for Mercedes – the majority of fans were clad in McLaren orange. Out of the corner of James’ eye, he saw Sophie let out a wide-eyed sigh before disguising it with an equally bright smile of her own.

The half hour went by almost exactly the same as the fan zone events at previous races; how did they think they were going to fare on Sunday? (not where McLaren want, but hopeful for as many points as possible), how did it feel to have so much fan support at the track? (wonderful, it meant so much to see everyone cheer them and the team on). The main addition was the fact it was both theirs and McLaren’s home races. And while Silverstone was much closer to Northampton than James’ hometown of Reading, it would always be one of James’ favourite races of the entire season. He made sure to include a joke about everyone’s surprise at how long it had stayed warm and sunny.

The two drivers departed the stage with more waves to the crowd before following their press officers over to the autograph tables. It was only when Sophie pointed at something in the distance, a flag flying from one of the grandstands, that James finally noticed the bracelet on her left wrist tied below her watch.

“Where’d you get that?” He asked, not completely realising he had interrupted the conversation. James pointed to the bracelet when Sophie looked at him with a puzzled expression. It was made of various strands of thread tied together in a pattern of complex knots in predominantly papaya orange, but there were a few strands of sky blue weaved through.

“I’ve been wearing it since yesterday!” Sophie chuckled. Ever since the fashion show at Monaco, James had been trying very hard to be mindful of how much attention he paid his team mate. “Luke’s daughter made it, and one for all of my mechanics plus me and Chris”

“Aw” James said softly, as Sophie held out her wrist for James to get a better look at it. He remembered how at most of the races last year, Luke had complained that he could never get his daughter, also called Sophie, to be properly interested in what he did. It seemed that having a namesake changed things.

At the autograph table James and Sophie signed caps, t-shirts, phone cases, flags… and in one or two cases forearms and shoulders, though Sophie had done an admirable job in trying to hide her shock at being asked to put permanent marker on someone’s skin.

“It’s something my Dad said to me growing up,” Sophie said once they’d left the fan zone, after James had joked that his team mate was going to sprain her wrist if she signed any more autographs, as they’d ran into a rouge group of fans by the paddock turnstiles. “None of us would get to do what we do if they didn’t turn up and watch”

And she was right of course. If it weren’t for the plethora of loyal fans then motorsport would have faded into insignificance a long, long time ago. As long as there were people able and willing to buy tickets, or watch the races on TV, then everyone in the paddock would get to keep their busy and wonderfully chaotic jobs.

“Right,” Katie interjected, noticing a lull on the conversation while James realised how profound his team mate was. “One hour till practice three, no dawdling” She aimed the latter part of her sentence entirely in James’ direction. He mock gasped, much to Sophie and Richard’s amusement, and ended up being the subject of teasing all the way back to the motorhome.

Nobody was laughing after qualifying, however. Both cars knocked out in Q2 with Sophie 14th and James 13th.

Being at the mid-point in the season, after various rounds of research and development back at the factory and analysing every scrap of data they had at the track, McLaren knew where their car’s strengths and weaknesses were. They still had some of the best cornering speeds on the grid, and a Mercedes power unit that acted as a decent enough sticking plaster on the straights. But their main problem with the car was that it had an incredibly narrow performance window. One that was very difficult to find even with the hours spent pouring over data in post-session debriefs.

James had started to feel like the fact that they had found the right set ups for both cars in China was nothing but a small miracle. While on paper it had only been five races ago, it felt much longer than that. McLaren had finished out of the points in Canada and Austria. And their realistic expectations for the weekend hadn’t been that much better before today. A problem at the factory meant that their planned upgrade package had been delayed until the next race.

While no one had said it to the press, the team knew it would be a small miracle to get both cars into the points tomorrow.

Everyone walked into the post-session debrief subdued, with people at most mumbling a few words to each other. Martin had arrived early, his grey eyes almost steely cold in the face of adversity. He had never been the team principle that would start yelling when things didn’t go the way he wanted. Martin was always, even in the title winning seasons, cool, calm and incredibly focused on the job at hand. There was never a hint of panic in his voice.

Which was why James had to try and hide his reaction at Martin’s opening words sounding ever so slightly shaky. Andrew White, who didn’t travel to that many races with a preference of being a CEO who ran things from the factory, must have made his opinions on qualifying abundantly clear.

The debrief lasted almost two hours, discussing race sims, weather forecasts, what small changes they were allowed to make within parc fermé regs to the car’s set ups to find any kind of improvement that would get either car closer to the top 10. Everyone felt exhausted by the time it was over, and Sophie and James hung back to give their engineers a head start on the way over to the car park for their longer drive home.

“I should have listened to Chris when he suggested moving my set up closer to yours yesterday…” Sophie huffed with a shake of the head. With her being a rookie, and neither of them being in title contention, there was a much higher exchange of information between both sides of the garage than James had been used to, as they tried to get Sophie up to speed and McLaren as high up into the points as possible. “Well, at least I learned something”

Neither of them said much as they crossed the small stretch between the engineering trucks and the team motorhome, where their trainers had already collected their things from their driver rooms. It seemed that both the Knightsbridges and Hewitts had decided to wait for them, as Sophie’s parents were in deep conversation with James’ Mum Natasha.

They paused their conversation long enough for James to say goodnight as he and Mike just had the short walk over to the drivers campsite to contend with, while everyone else would either be driving back home or to their hotel.

“See you tomorrow” Sophie said with a tired but sweet smile, she trailed behind Vanessa as everyone made their way out the front door.

“Yeah,” James paused, as he tried to figure out why he felt a small pang in his chest at seeing her leave when he’d be seeing her the very next day. “Drive safe… team mate”

  Sunday 9th July

“Alright everyone!” Matteo, ever the long suffering press officer-come-shepherd, gave the go-ahead for the drivers to exit the FIA garage, and walk through the pitlane to board the truck for the drivers parade. All the British drivers – James, Sophie, Alistair, Aaron and Aidan – had been grouped together and told to head out last. No one said anything about James and Alistair barely saying more than two words to each other.

“I’d watch yourself around him,” Alistair said to Sophie as he clapped her on the shoulder a little too firmly than she liked. Sophie looked up at him with a puzzled expression, she assumed he was referring to the start, which didn’t make a lot of sense since they were starting from the same row of the grid. “He’s too charming for his own good” And with a smile that had an almost snarl-like quality to it, Alistair strode off and waved to the crowd as if nothing was wrong.

“Prick” James scoffed under his breath, before quickly fixing on his usual winning smile for the fans.

Sophie just shook her head, if James and Alistair had beef or history of some kind she didn’t want anything to do with it.

So instead, as she walked through the open gate that led to the track she reached her hand up into the warm summer air and waved at as many fans as she could before clambering onto the truck. She almost slipped and fell, but Nathan stuck his arm out and Sophie grabbed onto it just in time.

“You good?”

Sophie just nodded and thanked him before she made her way to the middle of the truck where the Brits had been told to stand. She sandwiched herself in-between James and Aidan, who seemed utterly thrilled at the sight of someone waving a Cornish flag in the grandstand at Abbey.

Much like the entire day so far, the drivers parade passed by in a warm, sunny blur of team personnel, journalists and spectators. Brief questions were answered with bright smiles and incredibly loud cheers from the crowd whenever the truck drove by one of the grandstands or the packed general admission areas that were filled with fans for just about every team and driver.

Richard and Katie were there to pick up Sophie and James to escort them back to the motorhome so they could get changed, and they ran into Amy who had been wating with a Channel 4 cameraman for any drivers to cross her path for a quick interview. They happily gave her all the seconds they could spare, and she let them go with best wishes for the race.

“Go well today” Sophie said to James with a gentle hand on his shoulder, once they’d reached the first floor of the air-conditioned motorhome.

“You too Soph” James gave Sophie a warm smile as she gave her shoulder a small squeeze, and the pair parted ways into their drivers rooms.

  “Boss is coming” Steve said to Chris in a hushed whisper as he and the rest of Sophie’s mechanics gathered up everything they needed to take to the grid, before dashing out of the garage without even looking behind them. Chris pretended to be engrossed in his notebook, when he actually was peering over the top of his glasses to watch for Andrew White quietly walking into the garage.

And when he did, Chris quickly and quietly left, pretending to listen to something on his headset.

It wasn’t that people in the team didn’t like Andrew, though he did mainly keep to himself and the management side. He just had this air about him, like the headteacher sitting at the back of the class. Chris still remembered the look he’d gotten from across the room when he’d laughed too loudly at a joke during his first days at the factory. And the fact that the team’s performances were well below his lofty expectations didn’t help in making everyone feel like he was breathing down their necks every time he walked in anywhere.

Chris gave his head a small shake as he crossed the pitlane and walked onto the grid, heading for the seventh row where Vanessa and Sophie’s mechanics were still sorting through their various things.

“All the best” Paul, James’ engineer clapped his colleague on the shoulder, his tall frame thankfully blocking out the sun.

“Yeah you too mate” Chris huffed as the the grid started to fill up around him with cars and mechanics.

Hopefully one of the McLarens would finish in the points today.

  “Ah, shit!” Benedikt hissed down the radio, as his car slowed down the Wellington Straight. “I’m losing power” He veered his car off the racing line, and gulped as his seven second lead over Nathan faded away. So much for beating him off the line at the start.

“We need you to stop the car Ben,” His engineer Harry almost groaned over the radio. “Alternator failure, so pull over as soon as possible. I’m sorry mate”. Someone on the pit wall, probably Edward, was likely already doing the maths to see how bad a hit their leads in the drivers and constructors standings would take. Ben hoped he would be spared a lecture, since he obviously didn’t ask his alternator to fail 19 laps into the race.

He saw Nathan’s black and silver chrome Mercedes drive past to take the lead of the race as he trundled his limping Red Bull into the run off at Brooklands, and he quickly jumped out of the car in order to help the marshals push it through the gap in the barriers.

The sun was still beating down on the circuit, practically baking everything in sight. Benedikt sat down on yellow grass that looked like it hadn’t seen water in weeks, and when he finally took off his gloves, helmet and balaclava it didn’t take long for the heat on his skin to quickly become uncomfortable.

Was this going to be the turning point in his championship fight? If Giovanni won then he would take the lead in the drivers’ standings, and it would be all Ferrari needed to make them feel like the racing gods were on their side, instead of Red Bull’s. And momentum was everything in that regard.

He closed his eyes, and took slow, deep breaths, as he tried to block out the sound of the crowd, the marshals calling for a recovery truck over their walkie talkies, and the way the grass literally crunched under everyone’s feet. He had no idea for how many laps he had been sat down, but right now he didn’t really care.

Inhale for seven, exhale for seven. Inhale… exhale… Scheisse, it’s so hot.

Benedikt ripped open the Velcro strap at the top of his race suit, and he went to unzip the top portion so he wouldn’t boil, when his head whipped round over his shoulder at the sound of a colossal bang.

  Shit. Knowing the cars around her had pitted during the virtual safety car was one thing, but for something to launch Sophie’s car into a rapid spin right as she broke for Brooklands was even worse, when the car was completely out of control.

At some point the spinning stopped and the car was speeding backwards. She feathered her foot on the brake pedal, and winced as the car went from sliding across the smooth tarmac run off, to skipping across the gravel trap. Sophie closed her eyes and took her hands off the steering wheel as she prepared for the oncoming impact with the barriers, and the car finally came to a stop with a very firm very hard whack in a billowing cloud of gravel dust.

It hurt, as the straps of her harness pulled to hold Sophie in her seat, but after a few seconds Sophie found herself breathing normally, if slightly heavier.

“Sophie are you okay can you hear me?” Chris asked over the radio, sounding ever so slightly panicked. One of the things Sophie prided herself on was that she was a clean racer, she rarely crashed because it would have been another thing people would have tried to use against her. But it had the downside of always leaving Sophie feeling blindsided when it happened.

“I’m okay” Sophie radioed back. And while slightly stunned, she didn’t feel like there was anything physically wrong with her. “What the fuck happened?” The swearing must have been a combination of the adrenaline coursing through her veins, and the fact the whole thing had given her a nasty fright.

“Sudden left rear tyre delamination” Chris gulped. Engineer talk for a very sudden, very dramatic puncture.

“I’m sorry” Sophie spoke quietly as she went to unfasten her harness.

“Yeah… us too” First the brake failure in Monaco, now this. Not just at her home race. But at Silverstone, the very first karting track she’d ever driven, the circuit she’d always finished on the podium at in the junior categories. The place that at times felt like her second home. No wonder Chris sounded so down.

Sophie unplugged her radio cable and detached the steering wheel, so she could have room to haul herself out of the cockpit. She gripped onto the underside of the halo right as a pair of marshals in bright orange overalls and bibs reached the stricken McLaren. One of them double checked that Sophie was okay as she stepped out of the car, and she politely waved them away so she could check the rear of the car, just in case she needed to report anything back to Chris. But the only remains of her left rear tyre were the two shredded sidewalls, and there was a significant chunk of carbon fibre missing from the floor too.

And to think that first practice in Germany was only five days away.

A full safety car had been called, both for the debris strewn on the track and because they would need a crane to get Sophie’s car out of the gravel, so she slowly walked to a gap in the barriers where another marshal was waving her over. But what she didn’t expect to see was Ben waiting for her. Chris had said something about his car moving slowly at Brooklands a lap or two ago.

“Are you alright?” When Sophie didn’t respond right away, Benedikt lunged forward to flip up her helmet visor and she found herself looking into wide blue eyes as he asked again if she was hurt.

“I’m okay, Ben” Sophie said slowly, but believing it a tad more than earlier, and thankfully Benedikt believed her too. “It probably looked worse than it was” She winced as she partially took off her helmet, and sat it perched on top of her head while they spoke about their various woes.

Marshals took them back to the paddock on scooters, and the crowd cheered and applauded as Sophie and Ben sped by, the long traditional spectator signal that said ‘we’re glad you’re okay’.

Vanessa and Matt were at the entrance to the paddock waiting to collect their drivers, and thankfully the roving TV cameras hadn’t spotted them yet, which was likely why Vanessa fixed Sophie in one of the tightest hugs she’d ever had. Once she too had been reassured that Sophie was fine, they went into the paddock heading straight for the McLaren garage. Where every single member of Sophie’s family had gathered themselves. Julian and his parents had been watching the race from the motorhome, while Mark, Mary and Will had pride of place in the back of the garage. Even Richard was stood with them looking worried.

“I’m okay, I promise” Sophie hugged her little brother Will first, despite being the younger sibling he was still a good chunk taller than her, with deep brown eyes and a mop of curly hair on top of his head, which Sophie reached up to ruffle for good measure. “Love you”

“You too” Will quickly hugged his sister again before letting go. Right as there was a groan from the crowd on the start-finish straight.

“Martens’ rear tyre went, same as yours” Chris frowned as he peered over shoulders to get a look at the nearest TV screen. “I wouldn’t want to be Pirelli right now” He shook his head before turning and reaching out to clap a gentle hand on Sophie’s shoulder.

“Sorry for all the mess, the floor’s in a right state”

“That’s what spares are for!” Luke called out, he with the rest of Sophie and James’ mechanics were all sat together on foldable chairs, forming the team’s pit crew. As well as their orange overalls they wore thicker black gloves and pale blue helmets with dark visors their covered their faces once they were flipped down.

Sophie let out a small sigh of relief as she finally felt her shoulders start to ease, before she glanced over to James’ side of the garage where she saw his family all huddled together. She quickly turned her attention back to whoever was stood closest to her, and asked how James was doing.

  “And Sophie’s back in the garage James, she’s fine. Let’s focus on the cars ahead”

What lap was it? 19? 26? He had no idea. Were his own rear tyres going to last the stint? He had pitted under the safety car as a precaution, going onto another set of hard tyres. Not that it filled him with much confidence, Jakobsson in the Alpine had apparently also just pitted, though thankfully for his sake the puncture on his tyre was a slow one, as opposed to the dramatic delaminations Sophie and Jan had suffered.

“How many laps are left?”

“27, still a way to go” Paul replied calmly. James was currently sitting in 12th place despite all the carnage with the cars ahead and around him. McLaren’s race pace had been absolutely nowhere since the start. “Try and keep off the kerbs if you can, we still want to bring the car home even if we’re outside the points”

And bring it home he did, still in 12th place after holding off Braun in the second Audi. But it still felt like an rubbish way to end an awful weekend. There was no way they could possibly put a positive spin on any of it for the press. Well, maybe Sophie being alright after her crash was the only good thing.

Mike was there to meet James at scrutineering, and neither of them said a word as they just looked at each other glumly instead. It was one of the worst races all season, by far.

Nathan had won, which would likely rub salt in the bosses wounds that their star ex-driver was beating McLaren by a country mile. But James still clapped his ex-team mate on the shoulder and congratulated him, because he was genuinely happy to see him get his first race win for Mercedes.

When he got back to garage, James made the point to thank every single one of his mechanics and engineers for their work this weekend, while adding that they’d get to have another go in Germany.

Mike had already deposited James’ helmet at the back of the garage, where Katie was stood with James’ family. Though Chloe was once again making her opinions clear on her older brother’s helmet design.

“You haven’t changed it for years” She said with a long sigh. Unlike his younger sister, James was quite fond of his helmet design – a deep metallic blue with white racing stripes going front to back down the middle, with his racing number on the side. “And you never jazz it up for special races like what the others do” Chloe folded her arms across her chest as if she was right, and she flicked her dark blonde hair over her shoulder for good measure.

“Well maybe I just like being boring” James huffed as he stepped past Chloe to hug his Mum and older sister Elouise. “Make up some sketches then if you think I should use something different”

“Oh, I will” They hugged anyway, because opinions on helmets aside he was still pleased to be able to see her after a race.

“She’s only taking it out on you because she didn’t get to meet Sophie until Friday” Elouise said with an affectionate laugh.

“I am not!”

“Yes you are”

James never realised how much he missed being away from his family until his sisters started bickering. They were hardly ever able to fly out to visit him in Monaco. Maybe it was about time he started paying for their plane tickets so he could see them more often.

“I think you better go” Natasha gave James a soft smile before glancing over at Katie. “Good luck with the wolves”

“Thanks Mum,” For whatever reason, James leaned down for a quick hug and kissed his Mum on the cheek before Katie handed over his team cap. “See you later” They just about managed to squeeze each other’s hands before he had to go.

James and Katie quickly fell into step with each other as they left the garage, they stood a few outside for James to do some quick quotes for the team’s own press releases, before heading over to the media pen. Navigating the paddock after a race was always so tricky with the plethora of camera crews from all the different broadcasters dotted around, as well as photographers, VIP guests and everyone who all worked for the various teams, Pirelli, and the FIA. Though James couldn’t help but notice that anyone from Pirelli he did see were in a hurry to get to wherever they were going without being spotted.

“You’re going to get asked about tyres a lot, three identical failures in the same race is not going down well with anyone, so there will be that on top of how… not fast we were today”

“Right you are” James rolled back his shoulders as they walked into the media pen, and he followed Katie over to where the Spanish speaking reporters were gathered, and tried his best to put on a brave smile even though he really, really, just wanted to get the post-race debrief over with and have dinner with his family.

“Do you think you’re ever going to see a light at the end of the tunnel with this car?” One of the journalists asked.

James just let out a small sigh, he had absolutely no idea.

                                                           * * *

2023 British Grand Prix Classification

1st - Nathan Watkins (Mercedes) - 25pts 2nd - Alistair Mitchell (Red Bull) - 18pts 3rd - Giovanni Carotti (Ferrari) - 15pts 4th - Teo Martinez (Ferrari) - 12pts 5th - Cristóbal Vasquez (Alpine) - 10pts 6th - Marc Pavard (Mercedes) - 8pts 7th - Daniel Jakobsson (Alpine) - 6pts 8th - Aaron Jones (Aston Martin) - 4pts 9th - Antonio Lima (AlphaTauri) - 2pts 10th - Owen Nichols (Aston Martin) - 1pt 11th - Nico Dumont (AlphaTauri) 12th - James Hewitt (McLaren) 13th - Erik Braun (Audi) 14th - Evan McKinley (Williams) 15th - Aidan Glover (Williams) 16th - Leon Bauer (Haas) 17th - Tadashi Sato (Haas) RET - Jan Martens (Audi) RET - Sophie Knightsbridge (McLaren) RET - Benedikt Schmitz (Red Bull) Fastest Lap - Alistair Mitchell (Red Bull) - 1pt

2023 Championship Standings after Round Nine

Drivers Standings

1st - Benedikt Schmitz - 135pts 2nd - Giovanni Carotti - 130pts 3rd - Nathan Watkins - 120pts 4th - Alistair Mitchell - 104pts 5th - Cristóbal Vasquez - 97pts (9th - Sophie Knightsbridge - 32pts 10th - James Hewitt - 29pts)

Constructors Standings

1st - Red Bull Racing-Honda - 239pts 2nd - Mercedes AMG - 208pts 3rd - Ferrari - 204pts 4th - Alpine-Renault - 131pts 5th - McLaren-Mercedes - 61pts

#my writing #Life In The Fast Lane #LITFL Chapters

[vinyls-and-valentines]

👀Ghoul backstory?

Ghoul backstory:

born ever so slightly before Battery City was created (like. 3-4 years i think, but i can’t really check atm because the notebook that has timeline stuff is buried under something somewhere) in a family of Better Living scientists;

because of their family’s standing there were, of course, perks they enjoyed- like going to a private daycare, adults fussing them a little more in hopes to get on their parents’ good side etc- but also downsides like generally having very few interactions with their family and the ones they did have were...most often than not less than pleasant;

their parents opinion of them seemed to range somewhere between praise for doing something above their level, acting like they’re purposefully trying to make them look bad or ruin their work as revenge (which like. they were 4?? what 4 year old is out for blood?) or just lukewarm “i am supposed to tend to you”. Not a lot of emotional availability, but a lot of basis for holding themselves at standards even higher than their parents’;

they went to public school for about a year before being pulled out because they were really struggling with reading and writing. Turns out they had dyslexia, but with the help of our friendly neighboring Better Living Industries that got swept under the rug of experimental tech meant to erase disabilities rather than accommodate those who have them. Ghoul still struggled with this stuff pretty much their entire life, but now it was passable as them “not trying hard enough” rather than “they can’t tell these two words shapes apart” and “similar letters get mixed up sometimes” with a side of “they’ve read this paragraph 10 times now and they’re about to start bawling ‘cuz they understood nothing”;

at 9 they get sent to The Academy- which is the gifted children program, but on steroids- because they showed an interest in chemistry (it’s short-lived, but you get sent to the Academy for one thing there’s no going back from there) and because their parents are Better Living’s best scientists they’re expected to excel in all their classes which, for the most part they do!

their academy years are both some of the best and worst because they got to be away from their parents for 4 years, but they also had to keep up with classes and extracurricular activities they were signed up for with absolutely forewarning; namely calligraphy (so derogatory) and french;

they still know french because their teacher was fucking terrifying, but also because they also associate it in part with an old friend who used to help them avoid the wrath of said teacher. I’m getting ahead of myself, though;

at 10 years old they run away for a night to the Lobby because they’re scared out of their mind of a test they couldn’t physically bring themselves to study for. Some jackasses pick on them, they get rescued by some juvie kids and by the end of the night those kids end up becoming their friends;

they don’t absolutely tank their test like they thought they would and their escapades into the Lobby continue- sporadic at first, only to slowly become a one/twice per week trip after nightfall;

by this time, however it became quite obvious Ghoul was neurodivergent, so BL/ind put them on pills that, unlike most of their products, actually helped them focus and be able to do more things than before, though since they were introduced so early they kind of fucked up Ghoul’s brain a little. There’s a reason they refuse to drink and have the lungs of a coal miner despite being only 20 at the time of their death(s);

by 11 they kind of begin to catch on that the other kids are purposefully avoiding them, so they decide “screw it, i have real friends down in the Lobby, so who the hell cares?”;

they had an absolute blast with said group of friends ever since they started hanging out and one year later it only seemed fitting to choose an official name- before that they went by “Angel” which was the nickname the friend i mentioned earlier gave them- and named themselves Ghoul;

like, halfway through being 11 they hear one of the older trans folk casually talk about being trans and go, “wait, there a word for that??” which was a fun time. Turns out wanting to be kind-of-sort-of-a-boy-but- not-quite is not an universal experience. Shocking! /s /lh;

at 12 they meet Kobra and they’re both. Understandably, weirded out by each other because students with different majors aren’t explicitly forbidden from occupying the same space, but it’s generally not a thing that happens. Alas, they were both too awkward to walk away so they cornered themselves into becoming friends, pretty much;

for a year and some months they both go together to the Lobby and have shenanigans that build Kobra some character other than “scary crow cadet that will deck you if you look at him funny” and those are some of Ghoul’s fondest memories from the City;

ranking high on the list of their least fondest memories is Better Living trying to convince them to end their friendship with Kobra because they were “distracting him” when they were both 13. No matter what threats they used or what extra work they silently handed them over, Ghoul simply refused ending their friendship until they threatened to send them back home and tell their parents about their little escapades to the Lobby;

that night they got into their first and only serious fight with Kobra because he could tell something was wrong, but Ghoul wouldn’t tell him and there was a lot of shouting that ended with Ghoul telling Kobra to get the fuck out of his room and cried for about an hour before leaving to the Lobby without him because that had become their safe place;

not safe enough though because it turns out one of their friends got shot trying to escape the City and all they had left was a stupid little lockbox they threw as far as they could off the sky train station platform;

they get about 3 hours of sleep before Kobra wakes them up absolutely fuming and tells them he knows everything and that they’re getting the fuck out of the City. Ghoul doesn’t have the energy to even think it through as they throw a bunch of clothes and some random trinkets in a bag and the two teens are off into the night;

some part of them is almost upset with how easy they got away, but they don’t have time to dwell on it for long as they crash in one of the car wrecks at the Junkyard Motel;

the Zone 2 mailbox is just outside the Junkyard, under an old dead tree, and hung from its branches they find a key necklace that belonged to their old friend. A key they were supposed to use on the lockbox they chucked away in a fit of “everything sucks ass”, but took regardless of that they weren’t supposed to only have the key. That was the beginning of what’s often referred to as “Ghoul luck” at the Diner because they simply have unbelievably bad luck;

their next pitstop is Tommy Chow Mein’s storefront at the Paradise Motel in inner Zone 3 where Kobra picks a fight with Cola who just. Kind of makes sure he doesn’t hurt himself or them and waits until he tires himself out. Cola offers to take in Kobra who refuses because there’s no way he’s leaving Ghoul and then Cola offers to take them both in which Kobra reluctantly agrees;

one truck ride later and Cola drops them both on WKIL’s doorstep, thus uniting the Fabulous Killjoys for the first time. The end.

#warnings for mentions of: #child neglect #medication #abelism (kind of from bl/i's methods and mentality) #death #this is pretty damn long but like. the city fucked these kids *really* bad when you put it on paper #i don't even think Ghoul is even aware 3/4 of the things on here that affected them #and they work through it in their time in the zones plus the additional bullshit that happens while they're the fab killjoys but it's never #fully healed from it. #*so* much pressure was taken off their shoulders when they got into the zones though because they're generally more accepting #whereas bat city is only tolerant #anyways sorry for adding a wall of tags to my bullet point wall of text #fun ghoul #< no main tagging i'm shy 👉👈. if someone finds and reblogs this then that's on them. i just come on here to miss/love my friends and #project onto characters <3

[wincore]

field day | jung sungchan

pairing: sungchan x fem!reader

synopsis: when you, as cheer captain, are best friends with the pride and joy of the soccer team, rumors are bound to fly around.

genre: high school au, soccer au, bff2l, fluff

words: 7.5k

warnings: language, jung “the risk i took was calculated but man am i bad at math” sungchan

request: sungchan + ball + “ everyone is looking at us. is that a good or a bad thing? ” (from the first option) ^__^

song recs: after school - weeekly / pleaser - wallows / some - bol4 / sweet talk - saint motel / love so sweet - cherry bullet

a/n: i tried recalling some hs memories for this and im hoping i wasnt the only one that went through the “shipped with a random dude” ordeal LOL. i haven’t written shorter fics in a while so i’m glad i got to. tq for requesting, lovepie <33

In high school, peer pressure tends to come in different forms. For you, it’s taken the shape of this.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” 

You look around your classmates, scanning each and every face chanting with glee like you’re a star player scoring the winning point. The tall figure shifts beside you, glancing at you like a blinking idiot. You’re not even on the losing team but it feels just as frustrating.

You glare at the boy beside you. The trouble is Jung Sungchan. The trouble has always been Jung Sungchan. 

“Come on!” Chenle calls with a teasing grin from the buzzing crowd. The little shit. It’s getting hotter with each minute you spend by the green soccer field and its dusty chalked lines, just at the tip of the bleachers. You didn’t even get enough time to breathe before you were surrounded, the soccer team pushing a stumbling Sungchan onto you. It’s too sunny for this today.

“The star soccer player gets a kiss from the lead cheerleader after a winning game! That’s the rule.” Chenle announces.

Sungchan looks at you and you turn to him, the both of you looking at each other like fish out of water. Even though you’ve clarified at least a hundred times that you’re just friends, your peers don’t seem to be satisfied. (“Famous last words,” they say.)

“No,” you say, firmly. 

“No,” Sungchan agrees, nodding his head wisely.

“Don’t copy me,” you say, smacking his chest, and a quiet ‘oof’ escapes his mouth.

The fact that you’ve been best friends since Sungchan offered you a light green crayon in elementary school just fuels the idea that you have to date. There’s this difference between elementary school kids teasing and high school kids teasing—it was so much easier back when boys were afraid of cooties from girls. It was innocent too. Now, it’s more of nudges and sly grins, teasing with unnecessary innuendo. (What else do you expect from teenagers experiencing puberty?) It doesn’t stop you from being best friends though. Sungchan still visits on Fridays to get on your mom’s nerves and help you with homework (or try to). You still have all the little trinkets he’s gifted you over the years and the lock to his phone is still your birthday. You’re best friends and strictly that. 

When you got into the same middle school though is when it started going downhill. Holding his hand was awkward, touching him in any way was awkward and god forbid you compliment him on something. The kids around you would run across the halls saying “(name) likes Sungchan!” or the other way around sometimes. Heathens, the lot of them. But at the very least, he wasn’t too fazed and you wonder how he could be that even-tempered. If it was just you feeling that way, then maybe you did like him more than he did you. 

You shake it off. 

Sungchan’s much more grown now and at least a foot taller since his awkward adolescent years; he looks handsomer too but you wouldn’t be caught dead saying it out loud. After all, it’s only going to spark another debate on the anonymous school forum. (“(name) finds Jung Sungchan attractive, they’re totally dating.” “I knew it. A boy and a girl can’t be friends, especially if they’re both good looking.”) If you’re being honest, you hate the rumours so much—it’s one of the reasons, apart from puberty, stopping you from being as close as before. However, you do understand that this is how the passage of time works. You’re not going to be spending all of your time with each other, yes, but you still regard him as important. Your life is too busy now, with exams and practice—and you’d think a busy bee would get some honey as reward.

Sungchan’s curls stick to his forehead, unruly after he wiped at them with a towel. The sunlight plays with his eyes when he looks at you intently and you shrug. The smell of sweat is starting to make you nauseous. You remember that you too need to take a shower.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you mumble.

“Not today?” He asks.

You shake your head. “The girls have a plan.”

It’s not just the sweat. Or the crowds. You don’t like being here at all. There’s one more problem with this place.

You hate soccer. 

And by hate, you mean you despise it. Like you’ll throw up at the sight of it. What’s so riveting about a bunch of smelly, sweaty guys excited about chasing a patterned ball? You’ve tried to understand it but every time your dad explains the rules, you find yourself zoning out of whatever alien language he speaks. 

Sungchan has been the closest to getting you to understand the game and even then, you refused to learn. It’s not like you’re society’s definition of girly—but you’re not a tomboy either. The school has granted you the “ice queen with a warm interior” stereotype so you’ll just go with that. To be honest, you’re just a little more awkward at open affection than your friends. (And Sungchan has the “friendly beagle” stereotype which you’ll agree is partly true. He’s more of a retriever though, with that size.) It’s just funny how you can never seem to know who you are but other people see so clearly.

You hurry up to the locker rooms and hope for a better evening than this afternoon.

-

The sky burns blue and you wipe the sweat off your brow once you step out of the changing room. Cooling off from your shower has gone to waste. Adjusting your school skirt, you take your usual strides to the school gates. 

Ryujin seems to be showing Yuna a very flamboyant dance move while the latter hypes her up. Ryujin is in her gym uniform because she has no care for her reputation apparently, but she makes it work. Yuna’s about to show her own move when she notices you and waves at you vigorously enough to make you jog towards her and stop embarrassing herself in front of the after school crowd. But then again, she’s too cute for that.

“We got bored waiting for you,” Yuna explains, voice hoarse from her cold. Poor thing wasn’t let into performing because of it. “Do you wanna see our cool new move? Ryujin came up with it!”

Ryujin rolls her eyes. “You’re trying to advertise me to (name) so she can recruit me into cheerleading, aren’t you?”

You smile and cross your arms, facing Yuna who’s been caught mid-act. She smiles sheepishly and pats your shoulder like she just said a funny joke.

“Actually…” You begin and Ryujin holds up her arms in a cross.

“No. Never. I’m already part of the hip-hop dance club.”

“I was going to say that I’ll join you instead.”

Yuna gasps in betrayal, big eyes widening, and Ryujin grins before sticking her tongue out and potentially ruining her image with that expression. She doesn’t care, however.

“Anyway, I can’t wait to get to college and join a dance club.” Ryujin looks at the two of you excitedly. “I keep getting snaps from Yeji and feel so jealous.”

Yuna pouts. “Don’t be so happy about leaving me.”

“Aw, is the baby afraid of not getting any more sisterly doting?” Ryujin teases and you laugh at the disgruntled expression on Yuna’s face. 

“Don’t worry,” Ryujin continues with a sly grin. “Taehyun’s here to keep you company for another year.”

Yuna turns red in the face, a high pitched complaint emitting from her throat. “I told you to keep quiet about that!”

“Oh, what’s this?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “We’re starting boy talk early today.”

Yuna huffs. “At least, mine’s just a crush. I don’t know what relationship status: complicated you have going on with Mr. Soccer Captain.”

You flush hotly. “There’s no relationship status to be complicated about! Seriously, why does everyone think we’re a thing?”

“You’re cheer captain and he’s soccer captain,” Ryujin answers logically. “Plus, you’re best friends.”

“You have a lot of sexual tension,” Yuna answers honestly.

You make a face, slipping your arms into theirs and pulling them along the sidewalk. You better get something to drink before the sky starts to turn purple from pink tinged blue. 

“Ooh, another desperate attempt from (name) to not get teased,” Ryujin leans back to whisper to Yuna.

You stop walking. “Wait. Where are we going?”

Yuna shakes her head. “I’ll lead the way.”

Skipping over the concrete sidewalk, you laugh at your friends and their stories (read: Ryujin gushing over Yeji’s college dance club and Yuna’s newfound crush on Taehyun). The blue sky has tinged orange by now but it’s the sort of colour that sits in between more significant timeframes, like night and evening. Passing by a city square, you eye the people with wonder. A girl in a pink skirt skateboards smoothly over the concrete, her boyfriend filming her with a loving smile. 

“We’re here!” Yuna announces.

You look around the large open plaza, with people of all ages and in different attires trying out skateboarding and rollerblading over the grey concrete. It’s been getting popular lately, with idol pop stars taking to it too but you never knew there was this big a community. There seems to be a few stalls renting out skateboards too. The wind caresses your hair, evening cool settling in nicely on your skin. The sky is purple but it’s lit up with the city buildings and street lamps flickering on. It’s not a bad day at all.

Someone catches your attention. A boy that sticks out like a sore thumb everywhere he goes. 

“Sungchan?!” 

Your eyes somehow always settle on his figure, tall and standing out in the crowd of teenagers. He clutches his blue bag, the one he’s had since third grade, close to his chest and looks more like a tourist in this place than a frequent visitor. He’s not the only one in school uniform now that you’re here.

“(name)!” 

You hate how you love the way his face lights up when he sees you. You’re not actually into him. It’s your friends brainwashing you.

“I was going to invite you,” Sungchan says, a sorry smile on his face. 

Ryujin and Yuna frown at each other but you can’t exactly ask the reason for it.

“Isn’t it great we had the same plans?” he beams at the three of you.

Yuna suppresses a smile and you wonder why. It’s not like your friends would know he’d be here—you’d know first as best friend.

"How did you guys come across this place?" He asks, eyes round with curiosity. 

"Somi's Tiktok," Yuna answers, smiling. "We thought she works here but if she really was, guys would be swarming this place."

Ryujin raises her eyebrows. "Speaking of which, I can clearly see why there are so many girls here."

Sungchan beams, turning to you for affirmation and when you don't give him any, he drops his grin to a more polite smile.

“I don’t work at the stalls though,” he answers. “I’ve just been here a few times.”

“You’re trying to learn, aren’t you?” Ryujin asks, raising an eyebrow.

He nods. However, you furrow your eyebrows at her. How does she know? Eyes widening, you realize it must be the school forum. You remember reading a post about a student wanting to learn skateboarding and the wording felt familiar but you didn’t think much. How they figured it out, you will never know.

“Oh! Oh, I think my nose is bleeding. Oh god.” Yuna sniffs vehemently, her finger at her nose. “I think I’m going to need Ryujin to get me to a clinic.” 

Linking her arm through Ryujin’s, Yuna makes an apologetic expression and runs off into a particularly crowded area.

You blink. The realization dawns. 

"They just left me," you tell him, exasperated. "How could they just leave me?"

He shrugs. "My team left me at a rival school's field once."

Great. Your last outing before midterms and your friends have abandoned you. If this is the case, you wonder why they complain about you spending so much time with Sungchan and allegedly ignoring them.

You regain a sense of your surroundings and turn to him. "Wait. They really left you?"

He nods diligently, eyes trained upwards as he tries to recall the memory. "I told you, didn’t I? On the plus side though, I made friends with the opposite team."

"That's so… cute."

Your cheeks heat up at saying it out loud. If Sungchan is affected by it in any way, he doesn't show it. Instead, he has his usual smile on. 

“Do you wanna try?” he asks. “Skateboarding. Or rollerblading but I personally don’t recommend that.”

He curls his lips, shaking his head slightly. You laugh. Of course this beanpole has trouble balancing on skates.

"I- I figured you'd be good at skateboarding. Since, you know, you're so balanced and all."

You raise an eyebrow. "You wanna add skateboarding to your resume or something?"

"Yeah, that and the ability to imitate dog sounds. Wanna see?"

"No, thanks. I’ll pray this weekend to cure your furry behaviour."

Before he can respond, you’re interrupted by a whirlwind of colours and excited calls. A few girls run up to the two of you, younger and probably in middle school, flocking to Sungchan like bees to honey. Never in your life have you felt so ignored as in this singular moment.

You blink, turning to Sungchan who looks like a rather helpless, flustered eye of the hurricane. The winds don't seem to be stopping any time soon.

You clear your throat trying to get their attention. 

"Wow, you brought your girlfriend?" One of the girls exclaims, sounding disappointed.

The other girls make similar whines of disappointment and you have half the heart to whack them over the head and tell them to focus on their academics instead of boys. 

"You're so lucky to have him as your boyfriend," a girl comments, round eyes brimming with jealousy. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you declare sharply.

Sungchan looks at you with his doe eyes, blinking cartoonishly. You nudge him with your elbow.

“Yeah!” He agrees, with far too much gusto to be believable. “I’m not (name)’s boyfriend. I have no idea why everyone keeps saying that.”

“Let’s go, babe,” you say, resisting the urge to stick your tongue out at the girls. They’re younger than you and you have high school dignity, you remind yourself.

Slipping your hand into his, you take a few long strides away from them before you realize what you said.

“I- I did- I didn’t mean to call you babe,” you sputter, pulling your hand from his to look at him with wide eyes. 

“It’s okay though?”

Sungchan raises an eyebrow and slips his hand back into yours, smiling. 

“I don’t mind the rumours, you know?” He says honestly but his smile feels all too teasing. “Maybe we should go out for real.”

You huff, separating yourself from him again. “Maybe you just love attention. Disgusting.”

You point an accusatory finger at him and he bites at it playfully.

“While you're here, wanna see a cool trick I learned?" He straightens only having to tilt his head to look at you.

"If it's you falling on your face, then yes."

"I mean, hey, I could totally do that. Done that several times actually."

You smile despite trying your hardest not to. You like this about him—that he’s easygoing enough to make you look at life less seriously. If it’s with him, you could quit everything that makes you unhappy and start everything you love. 

��So where is your skateboard?” you ask, walking side by side with him, who has finally learned to match your pace.

“It’s with one of my friends,” he answers, and points to a tall girl with long brown hair, wearing a pair of tomboyish shorts and T-shirt. Another girl with short hair and a bucket hat accompanies her, wearing a long hoodie and shorts, but she leaves before you reach them. They must be from a different school because you’ve never seen them before. The first thing that pops into your head is that they’d be good replacements for your cheerleading position if you were ever to leave. You shake your head. Now is not the time.

“That’s Jimin!” he introduces, and you wonder how he’s this way—how he makes friends so easily.

Jimin waves at Sungchan and then proceeds to ask if you’re his girlfriend with a big smile, like a script being followed everywhere you go.

She seems a little disappointed at the answer. “Well, I was going to suggest one of the couples skateboards.”

You flash her an awkward smile. 

“But those are pretty difficult! I’ve been here for a month and my idea of skateboarding is still sitting on it while Soeun pushes me around. That’s my friend, by the way.”

“Ah.” You nod. “This is my first time skateboarding, actually. The only ‘sport’ I’ve ever done is cheerleading.”

Jimin furrows her eyebrows before her eyes widen. “Wait a minute. You’re the cheerleader best friend that Sungchan wouldn’t shut up about!”

Sungchan flusters, in the subtle way he usually does, and waves his hands robotically trying to explain. “I was just saying- that- that you’d be good at skateboarding. Because of the cheerleading.”

A boxy grin accompanies his explanation. 

“Right.” Jimin covers her face and sends an obvious wink your way. “Anyway, you can have my skateboard for the day.”

She hands over a smooth black skateboard with white wheels, but on closer inspection you find that they’re light-up wheels instead. It’s oddly fitting for someone like Jimin even if you’ve known her the entirety of ten minutes. Sungchan is good at finding friends, rather. Soon enough, she runs off after making Sungchan promise he’ll deliver the skateboard home.

The trick Sungchan wanted to show you was a failed kickflip. At the very least, it made you laugh so hard you almost spit out the strawberry milk he’d bought you. Sipping his own banana milk, he sulked for a moment or two, telling you to try it out and see how difficult it is.

On the contrary, Sungchan was right. You are good at balancing on skateboards. But that’s where it ends. You don’t think you’ll be naturally good at kickflips, though being able to glide through the plaza while Sungchan runs after you with the drinks puts a big smile on your face. It’s the most fun you’ve had in a while.  

Accompanied by Sungchan’s panicked “oh no”s and “oh we messed up”s, the two of you try the couple skateboarding move too; no one’s watching you here. It’s fun to see him stress over a skateboard because frankly, you’ve never met anyone as easy-going as Sungchan. (“I’ll figure it out along the way,” he says when you ask if he’s studying for finals, and proceeds to get a decent enough score). Suddenly the wandering gap is closed again. You’re not going to worry about stupid rumours from now on. 

But for some reason, ‘you like him as a friend’ doesn’t sound right either. Despite having said it so many times, you might not believe in it. You shake off the thought. This evening, at least, you’re going to enjoy with Sungchan without thinking of teenage drama and hormones. 

"You still don't think you and Sungchan make the perfect pair?" Yuna pouts. 

You narrow your eyes. "I don't take opinions from traitors."

Chaeryoung leans back on her chair, and whispers to you asking if you’re okay. At least someone is concerned about you.

“It hurts to be left by my own friends but—”

“No, I meant, are you okay? Why aren’t you dating Sungchan already? You’re so cute together! And you’re best friends—Netflix writers literally daydream of this.”

You groan, throwing up your hands in defeat.

“And,” Yuna adds, knocking her chair closer. “Who’s really the traitor here? Us who ditched you with the love of your life—or you, who runs off every time she gets a call from her boyfriend?”

“Sungchan is not my boyfriend.” You cross your arms.

“She even shares her lunch with him more,” Ryujin complains from the side. “And they’re not even in the same class. Unlike me, by the way. Class 1 Shin Ryujin. Same class as you, (name).”

You slump, resting your forehead against the desk. At this point, you wish the teacher would walk in and start the class already. Unfortunately, lunch break isn’t over for another ten minutes and lady luck clearly isn’t smiling upon you. 

“Speak of the devil!” Ryujin announces monotonously, leaning against her desk.

Sungchan and a few of his friends from the soccer team wave at you and the girls from the classroom door. Noticing Taehyun, Yuna quickly fixes her hair and you would tease her if Sungchan hadn’t casually strolled up to your desk and sat down on the chair in front of you. Long legs barely contained in the space, he adjusts himself by resting his arm on the headrest and his chin upon it. It’s all normal. However, when he leans down to match your eye level, you hear the sudden pit-a-pat of your pulse in your ear. At this proximity, you can even see the mole on his lip that he’s pointed out before. The sunlight from the open windows is pulling golden strings over his eyelashes and his lips aren’t dry as a desert like you expected. You know he uses the watermelon flavoured lip balm. 

“Too close,” you croak. Embarrassed at your own voice, you rise sharply and glare at him.

“Is your heart fluttering?” Sungchan asks, smiling as he looks up at you.

You roll your eyes. 

You can hear Yuna’s giggling and before you can shoot her a glare, Sungchan calls. 

"Do you have any bandaids?" 

He points to a rough scratch at the base of his palm, fingers slender and less calloused than what you'd pictured. Then again, soccer players don't use their hands much, do they?

You blink. "You came all the way here for bandaids?"

"Well… I remembered you keep band-aids in your phone case. And the nurse hates me."

You giggle.

Yujin mouths from behind Sungchan, “He just wanted to see her.” 

You would feel flattered if you didn't know these people and their shenanigans. They'd do anything for some drama (and to get two innocent people into the dating trap).

“Why would I waste my cute band aids on you?” you mutter under your breath. “They’re limited edition, you know?”

No way are you sticking Ice Bear on your urban hazard of a best friend. A tall, cute, surprisingly polite hazard but he still annoys you nonetheless.

However, Sungchan's pleading smile has grown on you.

You reluctantly take the band-aid out of your clear phone case, the pink panda doll attached to it swaying with the movement. Proceeding, you take Sungchan's hand and lay it on your desk. With careful focus, you place the band-aid, admiring the size difference of your hands before snapping to reality.

Enough with the pink cloud of thoughts, you scold yourself.

When you look up, the proximity makes your heart skip a beat despite the logical part of you saying you shouldn't. Your faces are too close and this time, you don't even have the energy to croak it out.

"Thanks, (name)," Sungchan smiles at you. 

Right then, the sound of a chair sliding harshly against the floor makes the two of you jolt away from each other. All of your friends and his friends seem to be sporting Cheshire cat grins and you don't like it one bit. You don't like not being in on the gag.

"Anybody up for gaming after this? My treat." Chenle looks around. “Sungchan is banned from the arcade soccer game though.”

"'Ey," Sungchan complains.

"Hey, Jisung and Ryujin are banned from DDR too but that's because they almost broke the handles off last time."

The memory makes you smile. Sungchan was there too, and you don’t know why you’re only just recalling all the memories with him in it, carefully and in detail. Every one of them seems to have been amplified, the little interactions suddenly coming to mind. 

“(name)? You’re coming?”

You take one look at Sungchan and give up. Even if this is another childish ploy by your peers, you don't mind spending some more time at the arcade with infuriatingly addictive games. A tiny part of you is even willing to go along with them and see if it turns out the way they want it to.

“I’ll go,” you mumble, and the rest of the group cheers. 

“But I have cleaning duty today.”

The group groans. 

“Just get someone else to do it. Like a junior.”

“Isn’t that bullying?” You ask, frowning.

“Ask nicely. Anyone would be willing to do your bidding, (name).”

“Chenle, will you do it?” You give him a sickly sweet smile. “You’re class president after all.”

Chenle wrinkles his nose. “You’re getting stupider every day, (name).”

You sigh. “Fine. I’ll ask one of Yuna’s classmates then.”

“By the way,” Chenle announces. “Only twelfth graders are invited—”

A bunch of groans interrupt him. 

“Quit whining.” He crosses his arms, glaring at them. “What do you even have to worry about? We’re preparing for the exam of our lives. Oh, and Jisung is an exception.”

“We’re only two years apart,” Yuna mutters under her breath.

“Oh, and from class 5, only Sungchan is invited.”

Another round of complaints pass and Chenle breaks into laughter. “Just kidding.”

Your friends are and will always be an odd bunch. Sungchan has previously proved to be the weirdest (several times) and it makes him the most lovable too. But then again, you don’t have free space in your timetable to put in teenage crushes, much less falling for your best friend. What you do have time for this afternoon, however, is relaxing at the arcade. 

-

“Let’s go! I am so good at this. Think I’d impress your Steve Curry?” Ryujun gloats, after having scored three hoops in a row at the arcade basketball game.

“It’s Stephen Curry,” Chenle corrects. “And no, let’s focus here. Our goals are—”

He points to the two figures by the DDR machine, looking like a real couple. He’s been acting as damage control for the rumours and making sure you don’t drift apart because of it. They really don’t make guys like him anymore, Chenle sighs. He should get a friendship award or something.

“—those two.”

Really, Sungchan better be thanking him by the end of this. He’s never met anyone quite like Jung Sungchan, especially because Chenle cannot picture himself liking the same person since elementary school.

“Man, now I wish I had a girlfriend,” Chenle mutters.

Ryujin snorts. “Who’s going to date you?”

“You don’t have a boyfriend either,” Chenle reminds and gets a basketball to the shoulder.

“Why are you playing that when you don’t even know how to use it?” Your voice rings through to them.

“I said I’ll figure it out!” Sungchan reasons.

Chenle and Ryujin stare at the two of you blankly, as you bicker over a claw machine game and they share a look.

“Do they need our help?” Ryujin whispers.

Chenle shakes his head. “I think they’ll figure it out from here.”

Soon enough, you were laughing at Sungchan’s failed attempts and trying to outplay him. Your friends have already given you the shove. Chenle and Ryujin share a high five and that’s where the new story begins.

You finally know the thrill of a teenage crush. It makes you so damn infuriated that it had to be Jung Sungchan. 

Now every time he waves at you from the field or hands you a bottle of strawberry milk or explains the calc notes you missed or does the bare minimum, you need to deal with the quickening of your pulse and a few butterflies loose from their cage in your stomach. It doesn’t help that you’re almost always together.

The two of you currently sit by the school field, Sungchan tying his shoelaces while you cool off with the water bottle he offered you. Practice ended a while ago for you and the girls have receded into the air conditioned indoor gym. The indoor gym is apparently occupied by the gymnast club and you couldn’t be more disappointed that you didn’t join them instead. 

If anything, however, you’d rather leave this whole thing and focus on your academics. Hobbies shouldn’t be draining you—they should feel like skateboarding on a lilac evening with the wind in your hair.

With a friend you like very, very much.

“Sungchan,” you call quietly. 

“Hm?” 

When he looks up, you can’t hold in the urge to fix the hair out of his eyes. You’ve never been very physically affectionate so it might have come off strange. Sungchan looks at you quietly, stars in his eyes and you clear your throat.

“How long have you been playing soccer? It was before we met, right?”

He hums, eyes traveling up and then back to you when he remembers. “Since I was six. You were there at my first soccer match actually.”

“I was? Oh my god, was it the one you lost horribly and the whole team started crying?”

“Yes. Yes, it was.”

You giggle. “Six year old you would be so in awe now.”

Sungchan beams at that. 

“Who knows?” he smiles, looking into your eyes with firm determination. “Maybe I’ll be the next Son Heungmin.”

“Even I know who that is so… no.”

Sungchan pouts and you make a face in disgust. “Don’t act cute, it gives me hives.”

“Okay, maybe not Son Heungmin. I could definitely be the next Park Jisung—and I don’t mean him.”

Sungchan points to a boy passed out on the benches, his exhaustion typical of any high schooler while another boy sits beside him, fanning him with a bunch of assignment papers. Jisung and Chenle really are more entertaining than any game on this field. 

You turn to look at Sungchan, who’s moving his head around trying to catch their attention. When he finally does, he waves at them and gets big grins in response. He’s not all that bad, you think. In fact, he’s quite possibly the most amiable boy in senior year.

“Just be Jung Sungchan,” you mutter. “Not Son Heungmin or Park Jisung.”

Sungchan turns to you, smiling wide. “Advice taken.”

You scoff. “Whatever.”

Maybe it’s just you but Sungchan has been glancing at your lips very frequently today and mentally thank Chaeryoung for letting you borrow her lip tint. You didn’t know something so subtle could get you this giddy.

“Are you… going to give the CSAT?” You ask, glancing at him nervously. Part of you is sad you only developed your first high school crush in the very last semester. Or if it’s comforting, you could believe you’ve liked him all this time.

“Nah. Sports scholarship,” he says nonchalantly. “I was going to tell you but… I’ve been scouted already.”

You gasp. “That’s… great. Your future’s all settled.”

Sungchan seems to dislike the idea, lips pursing. “I don’t think anything’s settled except for the next step.”

You nod, somewhat understanding. 

“What about you?” He asks. “Any university in mind? SKY? I’ve seen you study extra hours at the library.”

You look away, not feeling ready for the conversation.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly. “I don’t know what I like and what I want. I don’t even like cheer anymore.”

Sungchan gazes at you wordlessly but it’s the most comfortable you’ve felt talking about this.

“Maybe I should quit,” you mumble.

You don’t want to commit to something you no longer have passion for. But then again, you’ve spent so much time on it that it’s hard to leave. 

“You should,” he responds, honest. 

You scoff, shaking yourself from that moment of vulnerability. “But why would I quit something I’m good at?”

“If you don’t like it. If it hurts to leave but isn’t any better when you stay, you should leave.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re quite the philosopher.”

“I’m smart, right?”

You smile. 

“Oy, you two!” Chenle calls, making his way to you two with Jisung trailing behind. “I don’t mean to interrupt your flirting but you got a spare water bottle?”

“Are you two going out now?” Jisung asks as a follow-up, and you feel a hot flush for some reason, unlike the previous times you’ve been asked this question.

“No,” you answer. You don’t mind the idea though now.

“Don’t lie,” Chenle complains. “I saw that picture of Sungchan teaching you how to kick a ball. You? And soccer? Something’s up.”

You throw up your hands in exasperation. “Seriously, who keeps up posting to the school page? And where do they get the time?”

"Two people with this much compatibility will always be a hot topic."

"We're not compatible," you retort quickly.

"Wait," Jisung says. "I know how to resolve this."

You raise an eyebrow.

"How do you have your cereal?" He asks, looking from you to Sungchan.

"Cereal first, obviously," you answer.

Sungchan looks up, finger below his chin as he thinks. "I drink the milk first, then eat the cereal and then breakdance to mix it all together."

You pinch your nose. "I swear I question your sanity all the time."

"Hah! That means you're thinking about me all the time."

You look away, rolling your eyes. He responds with an open-mouthed smile and finger guns.

"See?" Jisung grins. "Compatible."

The gruff voice of Coach Lee startles the four of you and Sungchan leaves with a sigh and a promise of meeting after practice. Jisung leaves with Sungchan and Chenle gives you one last teasing smirk before sitting down and going through the assignment papers he was using as a fan previously. You will never understand his miraculous ways of performing his presidential duties.

You don’t have a good feeling about the next match. The only reason you’re even sticking around anymore—as embarrassing as it—is to spend more time with Sungchan. Being with him puts you at ease, even if the school tries to wrap the two of you in a rope of uneasiness. This is your very last practice, for the next match is the final one of this year and then you’ll be back to spending even longer hours at the library with a stack of textbooks. It’s supposed to be a carefree age. At least, adults say that. Your high school life seems to be riddled with worries, and with that thought, you head into the air conditioned room to take a breather off your anxieties. 

Only one more match, you remind yourself. 

The pre-match buzz is driving you to the edge.

Your form is off, you can feel it already and Coach Kim isn’t as sunshine-as-rainbows as she usually is, courtesy to it being the last match of your life. She’ll never know though, how much you don’t want to do this. 

Sungchan waves at you as he usually does before a match, disappointing a third of his fangirls, but it helps you ease. One last time, (name).

Watching the crowd of people, parents and siblings and friends, all excited and talking makes you take a deep breath. You practiced but it wasn’t good enough. You can never do well at something you don’t like anymore. This time, you feel guilty for committing to things half-heartedly. You want to start that fresh new college chapter already, with all of this behind.

There’s ten minutes left. You go back to the empty hall outside the lockers only to pace. This isn’t helping.

“(name)!”

You turn around abruptly to find Sungchan’s tall figure, and you must be looking miserable because his smile falls.

He doesn’t even ask what’s wrong, only takes careful steps towards you. “Do you need water? Medicine?”

His hands hover over your shoulder but he doesn’t burden you with them. You put your face in your palms and sigh, sinking down to the floor in a crouch.

“I want to quit,” you whisper. Your voice comes off more brittle than you’d like, and you realize that Sungchan hasn’t seen you cry since seventh grade when you failed a math test. You didn’t tell him then but you appreciated him studying extra hours for math just to teach you.

“You don’t have to go out there if you don’t want to,” he says quietly, dropping to the floor beside you. “I’ll stay with you.”

You stare at him dumbfounded. “Don’t be ridiculous! They’ll lose without you—you’re the ace, Sungchan!”

“There will always be an ace,” he retorts. “Maybe Jisung will finally get to shine. Or anyone else. I don’t mind spending an hour with you alone.”

You feel a hot flush spread over your cheeks. Looking away to the side, you mumble an ‘alright’ and only glance from the corner of your eye to see him smiling. Jung Sungchan is the most unreasonable boy you’ve ever met. Perhaps it makes him somewhat loveable too.

“It’s your last match,” you whisper helplessly.

“I’ll join the college soccer club and get to play more matches.”

You sigh, giving in. If he’s so adamant, you think that perhaps there is something in you worth sacrificing his game over. It makes an oddly warm feeling bloom in your chest. Sungchan is so damn convincing with his words. You wonder if it’s really okay.

With shoulders touching, an awkward silence takes over in the next second. You turn to him and open your mouth, watch him do the same and close it at the same time he does.

“You know,” he begins, “I was kind of lying about not worrying because I get the feeling coach will evaporate me tomorrow but—I can handle it. Mostly.”

You stare at him with wide, worried eyes. “You don’t have to do this, Sungchan. I’m the one running away.”

You slouch, pulling your knees closer to your chest and burying your face in them. The urge to scream is boiling within you but you can’t get caught. Not now.

“Sometimes to run is the brave thing,” he responds, insightful. “If you’re not up for it, it’s better to quit early than to regret it in the long run.”

You don’t know if it’s the fact that he just quoted Taylor Swift or spoke like your old school counselor—but you find yourself laughing. He makes sense. Sungchan, in his weird, oddball ways, always makes sense. And in that same way, he feels like home.

“You’re so good to me,” you say, looking up at him and at a proximity you’ve never been before.

It’s his turn to fluster, though he doesn’t do so as visibly as you do. He clears his throat, shifting his eyes around before meeting yours. “I- This is bad timing but… I like you. I really do. Since third grade when you drew that birthday card for me. I have it in my bedside drawer, by the way.”

He looks away and makes a face, probably wondering why he said that out loud.

You press your lips tight to prevent the smile that tugs at them. He looks at you with a wobbly smile, trying his hardest to resume his usual dignity—but he’s just a boy, after all. 

“My type is dumb and pretty, though?” You tease, the smile escaping. “You said it yourself.”

He blinks. “Well, I am pretty but if you want me to be stu—”

You shake your head. “I like you too. You don’t have to act cute.”

He pauses, thinking. “I have never acted cute in my life ever. I was born cu—”

You hold his face between your thumb and forefinger. “You do that again and you die.”

He breaks into a smile. 

“I’ve never met someone quite like you,” you whisper, embarrassed of your own feelings bubbling up from the bottle you had kept them in.

He laughs, open-mouthed and pretty. 

“Actually, hey, I didn’t like you all this time from fifth. I liked you and then I didn’t like you and then I liked you again—”

“Okay, I get it.”

His shoulders relax and he smiles at you. You look up at the clock on the wall by the entrance to the field and bite your lip. You don’t love performing anymore but you know all the girls do, even the stand-bys. Jisung might not have to take over Sungchan’s position but you bet one of those tenth graders would love to take yours, the same way you did back then. They’ve practiced harder than you too and it’s only a matter of deserving.

You take a deep breath and get up, pulling up Sungchan by the hand. He raises an eyebrow, inquisitive eyes scanning over your face and you smile at him, strengthening your resolve. You should have done this way sooner.

-

Sungchan plays. You don’t let him sit it out with you. 

Halfway through, you cheer the hardest you ever have, plastic decorative gemstones stuck by your eyes borrowed from the other girls cheering. It’s much more fun, you think. You’ve never experienced soccer like this. You’d love to sit at stadiums and join in victory chants. There’s enough weight off your chest to yell your lungs out.

Sungchan scores a goal almost immediately after and sends a thumbs up over to you. You laugh. This is the best break you’ve ever taken from cheerleading. 

“Ooh, is this perhaps the (name) effect?” Chenle’s voice rings through the speakers and you feel yourself shrink slightly under the eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see your homeroom teacher signal very angrily to the commentator box. You shake yourself off it. So what if everyone’s looking?

Sungchan places his hands on his hips, chest heaving and sends another signal to you before beelining for a straight goal. You whoop and the girl with a notebook beside you is visibly annoyed at this point but you don’t care. 

Without doubt, your school wins and you watch as Sungchan runs to his team, a big smile on his face. The second he’s done getting pet by the team, however, he rushes to the bleachers, skipping over the steps to you, panting when he stops. The risk he took was definitely not calculated. He holds up one finger while he heaves.

“My cheering worked best this time, it seems,” you say to him, laughing.

His face is flushed from the exertion but he laughs heartily. “You could be yelling profanity at me and it’d still encourage me.”

You shake your head at the cheesy line. He takes a step forward, well inside your space but you don’t mind. He leans in.

“Everyone is looking at us,” he says under his breath. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

You look behind him to find the whole team, along with your girls sharing furtive glances and giggling at the sight of the two of you. A few of the junior girls slap each other’s arms, bouncing on the balls of their feet in excitement. You’re not a celebrity. But everyone wants to cheer things on once in a while, don’t they?

“Good,” you answer, before pulling him by the shirt into a chaste kiss. When you pull apart, Sungchan’s face is so struck with awe that you want to look away but instead you bite back an obvious smile. It’s about damn time, someone from the soccer team yells.

“Woah. I think I scored a goal either way,” he says, an offbeat smile on his face.

“Oh come on, we didn’t even get to chant ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ yet—oh shit, the mic’s on.”

Chenle is definitely getting an earful from your teacher after this. The two of you wave at him at the box and end up laughing at him trying to hide behind the desk. 

As expected, the whole crowd surrounds the two of you in less than a minute’s worth of time, with several congratulations and “good score” offered to the two of you. The boys mess up Sungchan’s hair while the girls compliment you on how cute a couple you are. There’s also the question of when you started dating that pauses the buzz and makes everyone look to the two of you for an answer. Sungchan turns to you and you turn to him, and there’s no way you’ll tell half the school that your confession came in a private hallway outside the field—teenage imaginations run wild. 

Instead, you slip your hand into Sungchan’s and run down the bleachers and towards the exit, laughter spilling from your lips. There’s only one place you can think of going to spend a cool blue late afternoon with.

“Skate plaza?” He asks.

“Skate plaza,” you answer.

#cznnet #neowritingsnet #nct x reader #sungchan x reader #nct fluff #sungchan fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #sungchan imagines #sungchan scenarios #nct x you #sungchan x you #nct sungchan #jung sungchan #nct oneshot #sungchan oneshot #nct fanfic #sungchan fanfic #moonwrites

[wizkiddx]

this deleted itself but the req was for an ill reader who likes to try and carry on even if they feeling shit and tom noticing I think?!?

Summary:  you take start to feel a bit shit  at toms family barbecue and get caught out and taken care of

///////////

It should've be lovely, an evening in the rare but much appreciated British summer sun in Dom and Nikki’s garden. Everyone was there; all the Holland boys; both sets of Tom’s grandparents; Haz and his long time girlfriend Lucie. It was a reunion of sorts, although no one had been away working, you’d somehow all timed your individual holidays simultaneously. You and Tom to Australia; Sam and Harry to south-east Asia; Paddy, Dom and Nikki to Sweden. Having all returned in the space of a week, everyone was catching up, involving great British barbecues (which are always a little disappointing) and a fair amount of booze.

You were sat on the garden furniture with Tessa (Tom’s grandma), Nikki and Lucie. Very much a ‘girl power’ meeting if ever there was - which in a family full of boys was often needed just to keep the peace. Everything about the evening was lovely… except perhaps your body. God knows why, because you rarely got ill - having not had a day off work in two years. As much as you’d been trying to push away the slow creeping feeling for a couple of hours - it was now getting impossible to ignore. The slightly unsettled feeling in your stomach had you fidgeting in the wooden chair constantly, trying to ease it by shifting positions... to no avail.

“Y/n… Y/n?” Looking up to see three pairs of beady eyes trained on you, you faked a smile, looking over to Nikki who had been calling your name. “Tess was asking how long the flight back was?” “Oh sorry, was miles away!” You tried to cover, shifting once again, this time pressing a hand to your lower abdomen in the hope that’d distract you as you turned slightly to make eye contact with Tessa. “And I think 11 hours ish.” The girls all pulled a grimacing face in sympathy, to which you chuckled at. “No no honestly cos Tom spoiled me completely so we were in the fancy seats, I honestly was spark out of it the whole time!”

It was enough of a response for the girls to all nod, carrying on the conversation as you, now not the main focus, rubbed your pulsing temple with your other hand - in the hope to relieve some of the building pressure. Clearly, though, you weren’t a subtle as you thought - since Lucie got your attention by bumping your shoulder and leaning in closely. “Come to the loo with me?” It sounded like a question, though it very much wasn’t - the stern look in her eye enough to scare you into agreeing. With a word to Nikki and Tess, you both stood up and made your way to the inside, not stopping until you were locked into the thankfully spacious downstairs loo - the brunette eyeing you intently. “You look like shit.” “Thanks Luc, that’s exactly what I needed to hear right now.” You sighed, sitting on top of the closed lidded loo heavily. “What’s up?” Her tone was harsh and to the point, but secretly there was a look of worry in her eyes. She was one of your best mates but sometimes could also scare you shitless. “I think I’m just tired, it’s my stomach and my head, I’ll be fine.”

Lucie didn't really seem to believe you, but respected your stubbornness and after providing you with two paracetamol capsules from her bag, she let you off - both going back into the garden, where, by now Sam was plating up the slightly charred burgers.

Naturally, you’d sat next to Tom, who had pulled your chairs right next to each other - so that his leg was pressed up against yours, his arm pulled around your shoulder. That was just Tom, away from the prying eyes of the public and media, he really was an affectionate person. He just liked to feel you there. God knows how long you all sat in those same positions, but it was long enough for the sun to set. In fact, you most definitely weren’t the person to ask, because at some point, unbeknownst to you, you’d zoned out. Nobody had noticed, under the cover of the low sunset light, until Tom felt your head briefly fall against his shoulder before it shot up once again - your eyes blinking heavily.

He frowned at the sight, seeing you huddle your arms across your body, which was bizarre due to the unbelievable hot weather in London. Yes, it might have shifted into nighttime, but it was still at least 24 degrees. So as his Dad had the entire table captivated recounting some long and complex tale of his touring days, Tom took the opportunity to squeeze your shoulder - grabbing your attention.

“You alright love?” In response you just hummed, eyes shifting up to him after a little delay - similar to how your reflexes became stunted with alcohol, though Tom suddenly realised you’d barely had more than half the glass of beer he’d poured you when you’d both arrived. “ I’said are you okay?” “Yeh… yeh I’m fine.” You forced a small tight lipped smile, whilst Tom took his arm that was round his shoulder to rest on the crown of your head before slowly stroking down your hair. “Sure? You seem a little out of it?” He pushed, still in a whisper so as not to draw attention to the two of you. “Maybe just tired.” Flat out lying, you shifted back into the backrest of the chair a little more making his hand accidentally land on your forehead rather than your hairline. He didn't move it though, instead sitting and swivelling in his chair, pressing the other side of his hand to the skin as well. “You’re burning up Y/n/n” he spoke a little louder - eyes full of concern as he looked you up and down. “No I’m a bit cold if anythin-“

That was when Nikki, from across the other side of the table got involved. She’d obviously been silently observing the two of you, now feeling the need to send you both home. “Oh, we forgot dessert! Tom, Y/n would you mind helping me bring it out?” Thank god for Nikki, for finding a cover story and stopping everyone's eyes on you. Because for someone dating, three years deep, an A-lister - you hated any sort of attention, even from those closest to you. Especially sympathy, you had absolutely no time at all for that.

Leading you into the kitchen with his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, Tom waited till the door was shut before turning to you.- claiming you were boiling and looked not so great. “I’m just a bit cold if I can borrow one of sam’s jumpers then-“ “Love, please go home.” Nikki interrupted as she wormed past Tom to put her own hand on your forehead too. “You’ve got the chills and you’ve not been normal all day. Am I right or am I right?” She was the worst to argue against. That was completely due to the fact she was always right. With a defeated nod from you, she clicked her tongue, pushing you to sit down on one of the barstools. “Tom go get a jumper from Sam’s room and order a taxi, I would drive but we’ve all been drinking.” “I can just go back by myself T, you don’t get to see your grandparents a lot and -“ “I love you but please please shut up.” Having rounded the back of your chair he pressed his lips to your temples as confirmation before scurrying off to the back of the house.

“You know he doesn’t mind at all? My son never was at my beckon call like he is with you.” There was a little smile teasing the corner of her lips as Nikki placed a glass of water in front of you, as though instructing you to take small sips. “I just feel bad, he’s always telling me how he regrets not spending more time with all of you and… well I’ve had him to myself for the fortnight in South Africa.” “Your just as much a part of the family as me or his grandparents are okay? Now when you get home..”

Nikki switched the tone to then list off all manners of ways that you needed to look after yourself once back, which she then repeated as soon as Tom returned with a black hoodie that you gratefully pulled over your head.

//////////////

By the time you got home, you were feeling so incredibly shit you weren’t even considering keeping up your brave face. Tom had wordlessly led you up the path to your shared home, unlocking the door and telling you to go straight to bed.

Perhaps he was so concerned because in the whole three years together he’d never ever seen you ill. Yes, the odd headache or whatever, as well as the occasional morning after the night before when you’d opted for a ‘tactical chunder’ to try and protect your modesty. But other than that, you were always the one being sympathetic to him. When he was tired, both emotionally and mentally from work; when he hurt his knee and was on forced bed rest for a couple of days ( which turns out to be the hardest time for you too, dealing with the whiny and fidgety boy man).

He came up a couple of minutes later, by which point you’d already pulled joggers on and wrapped yourself as tightly in the duvet as physically possible. If felt so bloody cold your teeth were actually chattering as you curled up into the smallest ball possible. In his hands was a small tray, carrying a steaming mug; a collection of all the different pill packets you kept in the medicine cabinet (as Tom himself had no idea which one was right so decided to use them all); a hot water bottle and what looked like a damp towel, all scrunched up.

No matter how shitty you felt you had a smile at how sweet and doting Tom was being... and as much as you hated the sympathy - if it was always given by a ripped and beautiful brunette with the sharpest jawline you’d ever seen… well just maybe you could get used to it. After snatching the hotwater bottle up immediately, then letting Tom fuss over you in every which way he wanted you gave in, losing the ability to entertain his puppy energy.

“Can we just go to sleep please?” You whined, which Tom nodded to - quickly getting changed and ready before joining you in bed.

As soon as he felt the way the bed was practically vibrating with the chills you were suffering from, he pulled you up into his chest. Now you had both your own personal heater and a hot water bottle to try and warm you up. “You wake me up if you need anything kay?”

Pressing a kiss into the crown of your head, which was nestled between his shoulder and neck. “Promise me ‘kay?” Him needing the reinforcement caused you to arch back up, looking deep into his brown eyes with the warm glow of his bedside table lamp. “You’re too good to me Tommy.” He tutted at that, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek.

“Oh no” He whispered exclaimed, making you immediately ask him what in response. “I think this fever is making you go all delusional love.” You quirked your head, causing him to continue with a cheeky grin. “Well for one, nothing would be too good for you darling and two…. When the hell have you ever called me ‘Tommy’” With him chuckling at his own joke, you rolled your eyes at his cheekiness, firmly planting your head back on his shoulder as if to shut him up. “Alright, I’ll let you off just this once cos your all feverish… get some sleep love.” “Thankyou Tommy.” “Shh love.”

And that’s how you fell asleep, finally finding a bit of warmth in Tom’s arms.

Safe to say he very much didn’t sleep so well. Yes, you felt cold - but Tom was bloody boiling. Still he didn't move because if you were comfortable, his discomfort didn’t matter. It was also a physical impossibility for him to relax until he felt (yes, technically not the most scientific way) your fever coming down. Every five minutes or so he’d gently press the back of his hand to your forehead. This boy was so whipped for you... but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

~~~feedback is really really appreciated~~~~

taglist for tom: @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08 @prancerrparkerr @wildxwidow @Elishi03 @arctic-monkcys @Ownbauer13 @tomhollandlol @marvelsbitch8

#tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom x reader #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagines #tomholland #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland x y/n #tom holland angst

[rumblelibrary]

Hello! I'm watching The Alienist- Angel of Darkness, and I keep thinking of a fic where laszlo's wife!reader just gave birth and this case worries the poor man more than usual, because their baby is in danger and he can't get into the assassin's mind. Perhaps the reader could offer to breastfeed laszlo, and they have an in-depth conversation about the workings of the killer's mind and why the reader herself enjoys nurturing her husband. Perhaps it would even become a habit after the case was solved and every time Doctor Kreizler wanted some milk, he would let her know with a touch just below her breast that would go unnoticed in public as a gesture of affection? I think I thought about it too much, what do you think about writing about it?

The Marriage of Happiness [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Wife!Reader]

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: erotic lactation, breastfeeding kink, mention of other kinks and of murder

A/N: What do I think about writing it? I think THANKY YOU because I could write Laszlo having a boobie obsession for the rest of my life. I do think about it daily and it is just THE kink for him (as poor @cazzyimagines knows how obsessed I am). The case of studies mentioned are taken from psychology books of the time. I don''t know what point you're with Angel of Darkness so I am not giving out too much.

The night was dark and tensed, not a soul on the streets of the residential area you lived in with your husband, the only light up the one in your bedroom.

You became mother three months before welcoming the first little Kreizler of her generation. It was hard but worth every second, every moment of the pregnancy and the delivery your husband was with you. You were lucky, you felt lucky to be with a man like Laszlo: open minded, modern, charming and righteous.

You smiled walking around the room as you lulled your baby humming a soft lullaby, the baby observing you with dazzling eyes, you could see she was tired and the melody kept her attentive but also lulled her to a place of comfort.

You swayed slowly in a gentle waltzer, your arms embracing the tiny body wrapped up into the finest white clothing. You yourself wore your white nightdress with a dark green cover up that Laszlo gifted you, it was slightly bigger in size so you’d use it though the whole pregnancy, your hair loosely braided.

The baby opened her mouth making a soft sound, she was calm and relaxed, to see her like this brought you an immense joy.

You heard steps approaching to the door, the house was empty since Stevie was with Laszlo and the cook you hired was in her quarters, you wouldn’t be worried if your husband wasn’t working on a case of abducted babies, but then you followed Laszlo’s common sense and listened instead of letting your mind worry. You listened to the steps coming one after the other, the weight of them, the pace.

You smiled to yourself as you guessed right, your husband appeared on the door frame and the shadow over his face disappeared for a moment meeting your standing figure with the baby. Since the case begun he refused to have any new staff in the house, he brought the bed of the baby in your bedroom, which wasn’t common back then, and every night sent Stevie to roam around the streets before going to bed to see if there was any obscure presence.

“My love” he said with a smile as he walked his way toward you undoing his jacket as you offered him a look of the falling asleep baby. His left hand gently caressing the little chest to feel the breathe of life in it. The baby blinked at him and smiled. Your baby girl was an early smiler, she smiled in her first month which just ripped off her father soul, tucked it in her little pocket and sold him forever. He was already ecstatic to be a father, only the announcement of your pregnancy got him wild, a mix of worry and tenderness always over him. The constant fear to be losing it. To lose what you brought to his life, not only his daughter but that happiness, the home feeling, the meaning to have something to come back to at night.

He loved you like a flower loves the water, he loved you more than metaphors can explain. He closed his eyes pressing his forehead against your temple, you rocked the baby gently in your arms as she relaxed, the sleep over her even if the presence of her father stirred her a bit.

“I am so worried for her” he murmured, he couldn’t cope with it anymore. The pressure to be following that case.

Sara told him to drop it, but he couldn’t. He owed it to Martha Napp, he owed him to his own child. To be in the case put his darling baby into the spotlight, but the best chance to solve it and avoid the menace of losing the apple of his eyes was to fight the crime from the inside.

And yet, he couldn’t. He couldn’t get inside it.

He looked up and noticed your eyes on him, you detected the twist into his mind, the fear, the tremble of his intentions.

You kissed his cheek as his head was bowed slightly before slowly moving away to lean the baby into her cradle.

“Get comfortable” you urged him softly as he nodded to you undoing his jacket and his waist coat shrugging them off his shoulders as you adjusted the baby into her usual sleeping position, you pulled the covers over her caressing her head full of dark blonde hair like her father had as a child. You brushed them gently as she stirred and relaxed again, a soft sound coming from her mouth. She was well dressed, well fed and happy, you knew your child had all the possibilities in life to be the most charming and smartest woman of her times.

You moved the little veils on top of the crib to shield her from the dim lights of the room before pacing your way back to your husband.

Laszlo was sat on your shared bed. His eyes focused in the nothing in front of him. His waistcoat and jacket abandoned as he wore only his candid white shirt and dark pants.

You picked the hooked needle as you slowly bowed to your knees, he blinked surprised for a moment as you begun to undo his boots silently. You knew him, you gave him time to express himself. He was elaborating still, collecting ideas after a day spent talking back and forth with Sara.

“I saw the body” he said as you looked up.

“The body of Martha Napp’s baby” he added and you frowned, the poor woman, you couldn’t imagine yourself in her position. You’d probably be accused of murder too because you’d probably become feral if somebody touched your baby.

“Are you sure it is her baby?”

You knew he was sure, but the hope still fazed you.

“The child was poisoned, the deadly pallor was evident but Martha mentioned her child had an identifying contusion” he took a pause, he licked his lips as you could almost see him relieve the scene in his mind “A benign hemangioma under her left axilla”

He looked at you, to see the corpse of a baby, a baby that could be his, to find out a baby girl was abducted and this time in a well known residential area. The anxiety took over him. He was pestered by dark worries, images that saw you in a state of loss and disruption like the poor Señora Linares.

His eyes rested onto you, your calm firmness made him shake at times. His strong and aggressive demeanour might show him as the rock of the couple, but you are. You’re the one that can overcome things, that can see clearly when his mind is clouded.

“Might that child soul rest now with her mother, if you allow me I will take care of organising the burial along with the mother’s corpse as soon as the Isaacson’s have concluded their inspections on it”

He looked at you, a soft smile crept on him. Your thoughtful self always finding the cure to the pain. He saw the failure and you found the ultimate resolution. You could not join them in life, let it be in death.

You gave him a warm smile before finishing with both his boots and pulling them out, your hands slowly tracing his calves and ankles resting your chin on his knee to interject his eyes.

“Darling”

He blinked, he zoned out again and your voice called him back.

“I apologise” he only said

You stood up, his eyes lingering over your body for a moment. You healed like a true champion after the delivery, in few weeks you were back on your feet like nothing, in a month you were able to attend events. Your energy and vitality made you seem immortal to his eyes, which triggered his fears of loss even more.

Something so special, so strong like you, the idea to see you broken in any shape or form poisoned his soul and tortured his heart.

“Laszlo” once again, you called him back to reality as you sat beside him “you’re not thinking clearly”

He huffed softly, you were right.

“I can’t focus” he admitted finally taking your hand in his “I even upset the señora with my questions, enraged Sara, I feel like an headless chicken rushing around to find answers I can’t deal with. The scientific community protecting a butcher, John doing all he can at the newspaper and yet I am providing nothing to this investigation but background noise” he frowned deeply.

You could tell he was doing it for Martha and for you. He wanted to protect you and he tried to keep you far from all that darkness.

“Come” you said as you moved to your spot on the bed relaxing your legs as you adjusted some pillows behind your back “come on”

You hushed him and he obeyed quietly crawling on the bed, his frown still present. You hated to see him like that. Usually he was able to keep cases of study and worries outside of the bedroom, but this case was too personal.

You smiled at him as you undid the silly bow on your neck that kept the upper part of your night gown up. It was a maternity gown so to undo that little knot exposed the sensual curve of your breasts in a second. His eyes indulged over that little silky cloth twisted around your finger and the stars of little moles on your chest, he knew each of them by memory, he knew the scent of your perfume and the oils you use after bathing.

He looked up at you with a questioning look, he mindlessly run the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip when you exposed your juicy breasts. He always had a thing for them, he was always enchanted by the feminine chest as the highest form of femininity, big or small, that sensual shape was the epitome of life, of the charms of Eve in the Garden of Eden, the Mother Earth personified into the sacred body of his wife.

His eyes darted up back at you, a silent question on him as you didn’t let his confusion overwhelm you, you fought it with calmness and temperance.

“I know only one way to calm a restless Kreizler”

Your words would have made him smile as your open arms weren’t such a charming offer. He run his tongue again over his upper lip this time, using his left arm as support he slowly slipped closer to you.

His face leaned to yours as you didn’t seem to have changed your mind.

Somebody else would have maybe found it repulsive, a man of simple and good heart like John would have felt that kind of attention misplaced.

But not him.

He lowered himself over your chest adjusting into a nice position as you used few extra pillows you had there to ensure him a comfortable stay. His nose gently brushed over the inside of your chest, his hot breath hitting over your skin as he looked up at you once more and once more a welcoming smile followed his gaze.

He leaned down once again, lips parted to gently capture your nipple among them. Your mouth gaping lightly as he sucked a bit too much at the beginning sending shivers down your spine but just like any child his sucking revealed his anxiety to be fed, his fear and his need of protection.

You wrapped one arm around him as with the other you brushed his hair, your nails gently scratching his scalp to relax him, fingers combing his always well kept hair.

You watched his eyes flutter closed as you resumed your usual humming. It wasn’t a real lullaby, it was some of a rhythm you got stuck in your head.

“You’re here and I am here, our baby is safe from the world outside and nothing bad can happen” you narrated softly to him “you’re the most amazing man I have ever met, I know that the clarity of your thinking will come back. Just stop the world for a moment, it will all be back when the time comes right”

He hummed softly as you fell silent gently caressing him as you observed him lovingly, the fingers of his weak right hand toying with your braid. His beard hitching a bit in the beginning but you got soon used to it, you didn’t speak up anymore, you felt him relax more and more and you also did. This new kind of bond felt pleasurable and sweet, you felt to have reached a new kind of intimacy which is all you could hope for your marriage.

The time passed in silence, not a sound disturbing you until Laszlo’s relaxed body stretched lightly, the common knowledge telling you that the baby is fed.

He pulled back slowly before resting a kiss over your chest in a silent thank you.

He rested his head over your lap observing you like some Madonna staring at him with you gentle tenderness, not even Michelangelo could have grasped the beauty of your act or the absolute unfiltered love of your gaze.

“Was it pleasurable for you?”

He asked as you smiled gently caressing his cheek and his beard

“It was, you are really gentle” you answered. Another thing that you loved about your marriage was the unfiltered expression of feelings. You both looked for clarity through the eyes of your partner.

“Does it makes me your child?”

You smiled understandingly. This is your Laszlo, inquiring, curious, witty.

“No, no I don’t have a feeling that resemblance to breastfeed a child, it is more deep, more bound into my mind as an act of” you stopped thinking about it.

“Communion?”

He dared and you nodded as that was the right word.

“There’s a 1903 study, a German alienist suggested practicing erotic lactation as a way to deepen the relationship between husband and wife in a book called Die Offenbarung im Weibe, quite of a title I’d say, but he advised it as a good way to family plan, to give both the partners pleasure and he focused most of his studies over the idea of women’s sexual satisfaction being vital to the creation of an happy marriage.”

“It pleases me, I won’t deny it and it is a way that makes me feel you closer to me but in a more primal way, closer to the way sex works but with a different meaning”

He nodded as he toyed still with your brain slowly, a little fetish he just noticed in himself still doomed by the charm of unfiltered pure femininity.

Long hair, breasts, welcoming hips, all details that attracted him and drawn him toward you.

“There’s a study case, a man, a very wealthy one, he was obsessed with female hair. The smell, the composition, the touching” he paused as he toyed with yours among his fingers “He wouldn’t be able to suppress his desire, he confessed me his deepest fantasy was to have an orgasm while kissing the female hair and burying his head through them. It was peculiar but not harmful until he got himself a pocket knife, one of those not even good for a little pickpocketing but just as good to be able to cut some ladies’s hair in a crowd”

You kept caressing his hair yourself, probably moved also by the story, observing it and enjoying the texture.

“Do you think the killer of children needs to posses his fetish then?”

He nodded as you’re so smart.

“The possession is part of the final abdication of a person to their fetish, to be up to crime to own the desired being just proves the final commitment to the satisfaction of one’s desires” he explained to you and he paused now almost asking to himself “why would somebody steal a child then?”

You turned around looking at the crib where your baby girl rested.

“Because my crib is empty” you said and his eyes widened lightly.

“Tell me more, try to imagine it”

You frowned lightly as you moved your hands away from him, making distance, imagining the loneliness of empty arms, the excruciating pain of having a child and then not having it anymore.

“I need to give my love to my child” you said then taking a pause, your eyes staring to some unknown spot of the room “and if my child is not there, I will make sure that there will be”

Laszlo sat up as he stared at you.

“But that child won’t resemble you, your child was special and peculiar in its own way, this child grows up, changes, blabbers words while yours didn’t”

He pushed this image in you as you came to the only reasonable deduction you’d do if you were in such a state

“Then that is not my child” you said only “my child is somewhere else and this one is an impostor”

Laszlo nodded “So you get rid of it as soon as the reality outgrows the fantasy”

He concluded.

You looked at him as he stared back at you, a woman, the killer must be a woman that lost a child or got it taken away from her. She finds surrogates and dismisses them, she probably never saw her baby grow so they can’t grow.

“What would I do without you?”

You smiled at his words “you’d be completely lost, we both know about it” you said kissing his lips having a taste of your own medicine “now get into your night clothing, you’ll see Sara tomorrow to give her this new perspective.”

He smiled, not even a trace of the worried and confused Laszlo that stepped I the room before. He was back to his senses, his mind active, he could see with clarity.

- - - - - - -

The case unveiled itself, proof after proof, run after run, document after document he came to the solution.

He was proud, you and the baby were safe and now he could go back to the everyday.

“I don’t see the point Laszlo, you have proved yourself enough against him” John said as he stared up at his annoyed features s you served him some more tea.

John looked at you like why are you not stopping him but you just smiled it off relaxing in the loveseat beside your husband as John shook his shoulders like an annoyed bird.

“A man like Dr Markoe after all he did holding a public lecture with the anguishing title of Murder, Madness and Motherhood?” Laszlo snapped back at John “please, the least I can do is to humiliate him in front of the whole academic arena”

Laszlo leaned back smiling at his friend like he was just a poor fool.

“He will again fight on you, you know he always picks up on you for treating mostly children and being part of the investigation, you get heated with him and you lose your control”

John seemed only to know reasons to get Laszlo to desist, you understood him from your part, your husband was a fiery character and he hardly forgive people with quick and poor judgements. You also noticed he became way more aggressive toward Markoe since before the case, he always depicted pregnant women as prone to lose control, foolish and behaving like animals that had to be kept on a tight leash, it all in particular when you were expecting.

John’s tsunami of words couldn’t be stopped he had a reason not to do anything but your attention was quickly taken away by the soft touch of Laszlo’s hand on your side, just above the hem of your corset, his thumb tracing the side of your boob giving you a shiver as you already knew perfectly what he was demanding.

You could now tell that John actually made him feel unsure or at least unsettled him, he needed comfort and energies to face his enemy now.

Sara groaned making herself heard for the first time, she noticed his gesture and found it actually cute as she could never wish Laszlo with somebody more perfected than you. Your calmness matched his fiery nature, you talked when he needed to think, you smiled when he couldn’t. You allowed him to be more himself than he had ever been.

“Let’s go John, you’re being so obnoxious, at what time we will see the butchery of the doctor?”

You quickly answered to her giving her a gentle smile as she put John to silence.

She asked as she stood up and John groaned following her “See you there” John said still saying how useless it was to still go after that man.

Laszlo stood up escorting them to the exit and then coming back to the living room. You sat there like he left you, he would close the door behind his back locking it before crossing the room with long steps and close the curtains letting the darkness wrap around you. Your fingers slowly undoing your shirt as his shape takes again form in front of you as he turns on one lamp in the corner of the room before moving closer to you again, eyes shining even in the obscurity as his fingers finally meet with your skin once you undid the first knots on your corset.

“Give me life” he would plead to you before lacing his lips your nipple once more.

You knew from the first suck on your nipple how Markoe held no chance on today’s debate.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme  @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog

#dr laszlo kreizler #dr laszlo kreizler drabble #dr laszlo kreizler x you #dr kreizler x reader #dr laszlo kreizler imagine #dr laszlo kreizler x reader #dr kreizler #laszlo kreizler fic #laszlo kreizler x y/n #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler fanfiction #laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler imagine #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler headcanons #tw: lactation kink

[soleilsuhh]

— soon the cold night falls.

plot. when you went to doyoung’s place to study, you didn’t expect to end up staying the night and sleeping on the same bed.

pairing. doyoung x gender neutral! reader.

genre. college!au. fluff. suggestive. pining. good ol’ sharing-a-bed trope.

word count. 1.8k words.

you had been falling behind in maths, which was why you asked doyoung to help you study. although you didn’t have the same major, you knew he was more than proficient in the subject. he had eventually agreed to help but not without calling you an idiot first. this was how you found yourself in his rented studio apartment where he lived off-campus, about fifteen minutes from the university.

suddenly, you felt a hard but painless tap on your hand.

"are you listening?" he demanded, the look on his face is evident that he already knew the answer. he sighed, "pay attention, y/n, this topic is important."

"it seems like even you can't make maths interesting,"

he shot you a look at which you responded immediately by raising your palms up slightly in surrender, topped by a cheeky grin. you tried your best to focus as he continued with the explanation but by the time he reached to the next page, your thoughts began to drift away from the formulas and to the fact that the two of you were alone.

it wasn't as if this was the first time you had been alone with him in a room; you weren't sure why you were feeling jittery and why your foot was bouncing of its own accord under the table.

"—will you stop zoning out!"

his raised voice and the sound of frustrated slam of pen on the table startled you, effectively pulling you away from your thoughts.

surprisingly, the rest of the tutoring session went by smoothly. but it seemed like at some point while studying for what felt like forever, you fell asleep. when you woke up, you were pleasantly surprised to feel a jacket wrapped securely around you, and that its owner was also asleep in front of you, using his own arm as a pillow. his face was serene, the soft breathing making the world outside seem to stand still.

you grabbed your phone, trying to ignore the odd feeling in your heart. looking at the screen, you jumped, nearly causing the jacket to fall off your shoulders. it was already midnight, and you were still at his apartment. you reached over to shake doyoung awake, and as he rubbed his eyes, you showed him the lit-up screen.

he momentarily froze in his movements. "huh." he looked at you, "sorry, i didn't mean to fall asleep; i was planning to wake you up before your dorm curfew," he paused and after a moment, he said: “do you want to stay here tonight?”

your heart involuntarily beat faster at that and you brushed it off. it was probably a good idea; you were already an hour past the curfew. you said ‘okay,’ before calling your roommate to inform them. they sounded sleepy but nonetheless, relieved to hear from you. as you talked on the phone, doyoung walked over to his dresser and your gaze lingered after him.

“catch,” he said, throwing a simple tee and sweatpants at your direction just as you hung up.

you caught them clumsily.

“thought they might be more comfortable than your jeans, but you don’t have to change if you don’t want to,”

you smiled at him, “thank you,” you brought the clothes closer to get the whiff of fresh scent, “they smell really nice,”

he scoffed but not unkindly.

as you shuffled towards the bathroom to change, he began to put away the books on the table. when you came out, the table was cleared, everything neatly stacked and an extra bedding was spread out on the floor along with a pillow.

"you take the bed," he said, gesturing towards it.

you blinked at him for a moment then delcared, "hell no, this is your place anyway; i can sleep on the floor,"

"exactly, this is my place, so i make the rules," he said, "take the bed,"

you refused to move, not giving in but also uncertain about what to say. this was such a conflicting situation you were in; why did you care that much if he slept on the floor? why were your eyes so fixated on the fact that there was no extra blanket for him? what was this clenching feeling in your stomach?

"the bed is big enough for two people..." you awkwardly suggested. "i mean it's not like we've never shared a bed before,"

it's true; you had taken so many naps together - that was back in primary and middle school, yes, and things might not be the same anymore.

you could have sworn that you saw doyoung's movements stop after hearing your suggestion but he continued whatever he was doing on his phone. his lack of response was a clear enough answer for you.

"um, fine then," you said with a hint of despondency.

"i guess we can keep a pillow between us," his voice came. "i don't have an extra blanket too, anyway and it gets cold at night," he paused a brief second and lifted his head to look at you, "are you sure you're okay with sharing a bed?"

you nodded, a little too eagerly, a little too fast, "yeah, i'm okay with it! sounds good!"

the two of you remained motionless on the bed. it was awkward. you couldn't tell if he felt the same or if he was already asleep. he was lying still on his back, eyes closed and face relaxed.

you tried not to move too much, but you couldn't help yourself from restlessly tossing and turning, pulling the cover that you were sharing slightly closer to your body. he was right; the night was really cold.

suddenly, you felt a hand on yours, not grabbing it, just resting there and applying enough pressure to get your attention. you noticed how warm his hand was and you cherished it.

"y/n," his voice was soothing in the quietness of the night, "stop moving so much,"

you stopped and his touch, warm and gentle, lingered before he completely retreated his hand.

after a moment, you lifted your head slightly, "doyoung?"

"hmm?"

"i'm cold,"

he eventually opened his eyes and got out of bed with a sigh; he headed towards his dresser, the path dimly lit by the moon and then he came back with a hoodie which he tossed at you. "here,"

you mumbled a 'thank-you' as you put it on, feeling both thankful yet also...disappointed. you weren't sure why though. what exactly were you expecting anyway?

once again, both of you lied down on your backs, neither moving; his eyes closed, and yours wide open. minutes passed before you began to feel restless again. somehow, your mind wouldn't stop thinking about how warm his hand was and how yours was itching to be held again.

you turned your body to completely face him as you edged closer to the pillow barrier between you two. "doyoung?" you tried.

you waited a few seconds.

"what?"

"i'm still cold,"

you waited a few seconds. a few more. and a few more.

you were certain you wouldn’t get a response anymore. he was probably tired and dying to get some sleep. and he already gave you a hoodie; what more could he do for you?

sleepless, you found yourself distracted by how pretty he looked in the pale moonlight that came through the window. you noticed an eyelash on his cheek and tentatively, you reached over to gently brush it away. you were tempted to wake him so that he can make a wish but that probably wasn't a good idea. despite how warm his hand was, his face was cool under your touch, his skin so soft that you found yourself lightly trailing a finger along his features; first his cheekbone, then his nose, and when your finger reached his lip, his breath deepened and his eyelids moved albeit still closed. you stopped dead.

you weren't sure whether knowing that he was awake made you feel more nervous or more delighted. perhaps both.

your fingertips lingered on his skin, waiting for him to stop you but he didn't. you felt compelled to continue and that’s what you did; your fingers began moving again, trailing over the shape of his lips. with each passing second, your movements gained more sense of ease and certainty as your feathery touch brushed along his jawline, creeping down his neck, and then his collarbone.

you watched, marvelled as his breath hitched softly.

your fingers edged up his neck again.

and his hand grabbed your wrist. there it was. that warm touch of his.

he opened his eyes and your gazes locked.

the look on his face was unreadable and it made you all the more nervous and excited. the eye-contact broke only when you gulped, trying to shove the nerves down, and his eyes followed the movement on your neck.

“you said you’re cold?”

you nodded.

letting go of your wrist, his eyes met yours again. “turn around.”

you looked at him uncertainly, suddenly feeling a tingling sensation in your fingertips and toes. “why?”

he gave you a small, reassuring smile, and his hand reached out to trace along your jaw and down your neck, the maneuver emulating yours earlier.

“you’ll see,”

you shifted your position and turned until you were facing the other way. behind you, you felt the pillow between you two being lifted and placed on the other side of the bed. soon after, doyoung wrapped his arms around yours, pulling the covers over your bodies and holding you close. back pressed against his chest, you entwined your arm with his and laced your fingers together.

the two of you stayed like that for a while, still and quiet.

it was him who broke the silence, “how about now?” he said, “are you still cold?”

you smiled, “no, this is really nice,”

“good.”

it was a little awkward and stiff at first. but after a while, it became peaceful as you both slowly relaxed and allowed yourselves to melt into the warm embrace. your breathing slowed down and your heart stopped racing. the steady rise and fall of his chest was so comforting and you found yourself snuggling closer against his chest and into his arms.

“honestly,” you began, voice quiet but light-hearted, “i was kind of thinking about something else when you told me to turn around,”

he hummed amusedly and let out a chuckle. then he leaned forward to hover his lips over your ear, “i know what you were thinking,” his voice was barely above a whisper and held a tone of refrained laughter.

you shivered but eventually bursted out laughing, and he promptly joined, unable to contain it in him any longer. the laughter in the stillness of the night was heavenly. doyoung muffled himself by burying his face in your neck to stop himself from laughing too loud for the sake of the neighbors, but that only caused you to laugh louder and harder because of the tickling sensation. in spite of himself, he managed to whisper soft ‘shh’s and gently covered your mouth with his hand from behind.

even as you both tried to calm yourselves down, you broke into fits of soft giggles every now and then. doyoung tried to sound annoyed as he told you to go to sleep but he couldn’t stop smiling.

you sighed, happy and content but also sad because you knew this moment would eventually pass, “i don’t want this to end,”

“don’t be silly,”

silence filled the room for a while.

“you can come sleep over whenever you want,” he said, hugging you closer, his voice soft and unwavering.

#nct #nct x reader #nct fluff #nct fic #nct scenarios #doyoung #kim doyoung #doyoung x you #doyoung x reader #doyoung fluff #nct doyoung #doyoung fic #doyoung scenarios #doyoung imagines #nct 127 #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 fic #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 suggestive #nct suggestive

[seriouslysnape]

Hi, love! Could I request something with Snape and a female reader? They dating but lately, Snape is busy with work and the reader doesn't want to disturb him or tell him she needs attention because she's quite shy and doesn't want to be a burden. But when she finally gathered the courage to tell him, he's quite surprised she missed his affection so much. Smut or just fluff whatever you feel like writing will be nice! Don't feel pressure to write it if you don't like that idea. Thank you and have a great day! (PS: I miss Alan Rickman so much T^T such an amazing actor! Ps2: Because of you I started to be a Lupin girl like whaaat he so sweet, I love how you are writing him!) 🖤💚

This is SO sweet. Like SO SWEET. And also, I was the same way! I didn’t start REALLY liking Lupin until I started reading Lupin stuff!

__

Time for You

Severus Snape x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Smut, Oral sex.

Word Count: 1,891

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

__

Communication is always a crucial step in maintaining a healthy, successful relationship. You knew that making your needs, wants, concerns, etc. verbally known was very important.

You were bored. Plain and simple, you were completely stricken with absolutely nothing to do while Severus remained holed away in his office. You would think that a school instructor would take the summers off, but Severus had a plan to change his usual class curriculum, so he had been working around the clock to create a brand new Potions class.

He had been staying busy for the first few weeks of summer, working several hours a day in his home office. Severus was always very in the zone when he worked. He tuned mostly everything out, only taking a break when he couldn’t stay awake or needed to eat or use the restroom. It was a monotonous cycle that had made your home life boring, and had taken a toll on your summer vacation.

He didn’t realize that he had been rather distant, and that he hadn’t shown you much attention at all. It didn’t help that you were too timid to actually speak up and say anything to him. You had always had a hard time expressing your wants and needs to Severus. You never wanted to come off too clingy or too pushy. You hated to ever interrupt him while he worked, so for the most part, you had stayed quiet. You didn’t want to get on his nerves or upset him.

Although, you could probably count the times he’s actually been upset with you on one hand.

You were growing more and more needy for him with each passing day. You missed his touch, his voice, and his hands on you. You just wanted him to pay attention to you, just for a little while.

You paced outside of his office, trying to encourage yourself to go talk to him. He was your boyfriend after all, and effective communication was important. Severus always expressed to you how he wanted you to tell him if you needed something. He wanted you to be happy and content, but if there was something that was making you unhappy, you had to be the one to tell him.

You took a deep breath, building up the courage to go talk to him. If nothing else, maybe you could steal a quick make out session.

You slowly pushed the door open to reveal Severus scribbling away on some parchment at his desk. He had stacks of lesson plans for the upcoming school year and a list of new materials that students would need. He had been going hard at this for a while. You just wished he’d take a break. You peeked your head in.

“Severus?” You called out to him.

His head didn’t turn to you. His body language gave no indication that he had heard you at all. You fully entered the room, closing the door gently behind you. You approached him from behind, gingerly resting your hands on his shoulders. His entire frame relaxed at the feel of such a soothing touch. He sighed lightly.

“Hello, darling.” He greeted, pausing his writing for a moment.

You rubbed his shoulders, drawing soft groans from him.

“How’s it going in here?” You asked.

“Quite well actually. I’m happy with the progress I’ve made.” He replied.

You pressed a kiss to the top of his head, his black hair was soft on your lips. Your hands moved from his shoulders so you could run your fingers through his charcoal colored locks. You massaged at his scalp as he continued to work, talking to him sweetly.

“It’s a beautiful day outside. It’s warm and the sky is clear.” You pointed out to him.

His eyes shifted from his desk to the window. He hadn’t even taken a moment to look at the perfect summer weather. It had been an unusually pretty summer, and you hated that Severus was spending it cooped up in his dark office. The two of you should be having a picnic under your favorite oak tree, or even feeding ducks by the lake. He was missing out on such a flawless summer. That only prompted you further to get him away from his loads of work and actually enjoy his time off.

“Oh, it sure is,” He announced; “You should get out of the house for a bit. Take a walk through the park, yes?” He suggested.

You took a breath.

“I want you to come with me, love.” You requested, pulling his hair carefully behind his ears.

A sigh resonated from his chest. He’d love nothing more than to break away from his desk that he had shackled himself to and soak up the outside freshness with you, but he had convinced himself that he simply had too much to do.

“I need to work. I’ll never be ready by September if I fail to keep working.” He said, still writing with his favorite quill that you had given him as a birthday gift.

He didn’t seem to notice that you were hinting at something. Over the years, he had learned how to gauge your behaviors and your moods to notice when you wanted something, but he still encouraged you to tell him yourself. Now though, he was so occupied that he didn’t notice at all. You felt a twinge of annoyance that he wasn’t taking you more seriously, which is what caused you to blurt out rather sternly.

“Severus, please.” You begged.

Your breath caught in your throat the moment the words left your mouth and Severus’ quill stopped scratching. You had surely gotten his attention, because you were never one to snarl at him like that. He set his quill down completely, turning in his chair to look back at you. You were stunned still, surprised at yourself for having such an involuntary reaction.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” You apologized, giving in to the urge to leave him to keep working.

You went to walk away, feeling as though you had totally crossed a line. This was always the sort of thing you tried to avoid; getting upset and possibly causing an argument. You weren’t the best when it came to confrontation, so you tried your best to maneuver around it. Before you could make any real progress to leave the room, a hand caught your wrist.

“Wait. Don’t go,” He pleaded, standing from his desk; “What’s the matter, [Y/N]?”

He knew now that you were trying to tell him something, but he wanted to see if he could get you to tell him without him having to figure it out himself. He saw the way your eyes shifted to your feet. He didn’t want you to shut down on him when he knew you wanted something.

“Please, tell me.” He added, bringing your head back so you’d look at him.

You bit your lip hesitantly. You didn’t want to seem like you were nagging him or overly pushy. But that didn’t make the fact that you were craving for his affection any less true.

“I miss you.” You finally confessed.

Severus’ expression softened even more than it was already. He could hear the desperation and longing in your voice. You were feeling neglected, and he felt guilty for not making you feel appreciated. He did appreciate you in all aspects. He adored you and he loved you. It wasn’t fair that you were feeling this way.

He was rather astonished that you had missed him enough to speak up in such a way. That’s how he knew that you were really missing him.

“Oh, my dear. Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” He questioned, caressing your smooth cheek,

You gave a simple shrug.

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You explained.

“You never bother me. I always want you to feel comfortable talking to me.” He invigorated.

You nodded into his hand, an internal cheer of victory playing in your head when he lowered his head to kiss you. His lips caught yours in a sensual way, making up for all the lost kisses from the last several weeks. You were stealing kisses from him left and right, making his heart flutter with desire. Before you knew it, you were greedily making out and he had swept you away through the house to your bedroom.

You fell onto your back onto the mattress as he continued to kiss you deeply and roughly. The noises flowing from your chest were nothing less than eager and craving. You reached for his belt, the clinking noise of it releasing was enough to get you totally excited. He pushed your hand away, a ravishing chuckle rumbling from his chest as he briefly stopped kissing you.

“This is all about you, darling.” He growled.

His lips detached from your skin, his body shimmying downwards, his face just inches away from your heated sex. He draped your legs over his shoulders as his tongue wasted no time licking a heavy stripe and your hearty whimper filled the room. He sucked and kissed as one of your hands was steady on his head to prohibit him from going too far, while the other was pressed against the headboard behind your. It felt like electricity was crackling all through your body as he mercilessly pleasured your.

“Oh, fuck...you’ve got quite the mouth, Professor.” You tried to laugh, but it came out as another moan.

Obviously this wasn't the first time you had ever been in this situation with him. But it still surprised you every time.

His chuckle vibrated against you, his voice muffled slightly;

“You better believe it.”

He knew your body backwards and forwards, which is why he put his arm over your waist to keep you from squirming too much. He smirked as he felt your muscles contract against his hold. It was a damn hot sight to see. His face buried between your legs, his tongue and lips working wonders on the woman he adored so much. Normally, he’d hold off on letting you cum. He’d slow his movements to tantalize you and make you beg. But you deserved what you wanted after these weeks.

“Severus, please...” You said feeling your legs begin to shake as his movements didn’t slow.

“I’ve got you, baby.” He spoke.

Your head fell back onto the pillow as a flash of white covered your vision. Your legs tightened on his shoulders as you crashed over your high. He continued to suck your and work you through it. He licked and swallowed your cum and lapped up your release. His name fell from your lips once more as you felt yourself settling back to normal. He grinned once your breathing attempted to slow, he returned to your side. You supposed that you owed him now, but that’d come later. He kissed you less harshly than before, you could taste yourself on his tongue.

“I love you.” You breathed out, sucking on his neck.

“I love you too.” He returned.

He hummed as you left a few hickeys on his neck. His lips finding yours soon after. He was making it a goal to stay as close to you as possible for the rest of the summer.

Potions class could definitely wait.

#severus snape #severus snape x reader #severus #severus snape x y/n #severus snape x you #professor snape #professor snape x you #professor snape x reader #alan rickman #Harry Potter #harry potter snape #snape smut #severus snape smut #severus snape x female reader

[hotwings0203]

Gilded Cage

A/N: It’s embarrassing how long this took but oh well, happy new year to everyone and I hope you enjoy scummy yandere hawks!

Warnings: dubcon, kidnapping, abuse, toxic relationships, degradation, yandere themes

************

At first she welcomed the bright flashing lights like a breath of fresh air, but in due time it made her throat close up like the rest of the situation.

He had agreed to let her out if she behaved, and that meant no biting, scratching, screaming, flinching, temper tantrums, and worst of all, no silent treatment.

And she would take it like a champ if it meant seeing any other person in 6 months.

He had kept her here like a flightless bird in this cage of theirs, and oh how ironic it was that she was succumbed to be the prey of this ruthless hawk, with him able to soar amongst the people and buildings while Y/n stayed perched in the house, her ever-growing wings mentally becoming too much for her to control and stay silent about.

She needed space, she wanted to leave, but she didn’t dare voicing any of her wants, especially when Keigo made it so clear how her meager wants were of no match for his needs.

And his needs, as he’s made so clear thus far, include her being a pliant, quiet, yet loving little birdie who cooks, cleans, and lays with him day and night without complaint.

God forbid she speaks up about her...living conditions, as he liked to so generously supply to her the first and last time she ever had this conversation with him. She tried telling him how she originally had loved their relationship of a couple of months, and sure it might have been weird for him to push her into moving in with him only after 3 months, but it was because of how much he loved her or so he said at least, when he bashed her head repeatedly on the ground when she told him it “wasn’t normal to rush into things so fast”.

Sure, he had a big spacious penthouse lent to him by the Hero Commission so being physically cramped was never a problem, and yes okay he showered her with gifts and little trinkets, just like birds did with their mates even more so after a big fight that usually left her black and blue, with swollen lips, ripped up knees and big red welts on her wrists while the hero himself was left with not even a feather out of place.

But there were days where their movie nights and cuddling sessions didn’t cut it for her anymore. There were nights when she couldn’t take his suffocating arms around her a second longer, only to be replaced by an even heavier and darker presence when she tried turning on her side away from him.

Sometimes it would be a chain reaction caused by the smallest of catalysts, however. It would be on a day where he left the restraints on a little too tightly, and Y/n was forced to use toothpaste on her wrists instead of the salve Keigo always kept in the medicine closet. Other times it would happen when he would keep feeling up her sides and pressing into her after a long day of her cooking in hopes that the plentiful food would be enough to keep him occupied away from her, even if it was for an hour or two.

It never was, though. He always wanted her, whether it was her scent, her presence, or her clothes that he kept in his pockets on his missions.

On those days, the days where she felt too much Keigo, too many feathers and too much Hawks was when she snapped.

Down would go the plates, the expensive wine glasses, the vases filled with flowers sent by hundreds of fangirls who knew nothing about the monster that he actually was. She’d tear out her mussed hair, red-faced with tears that ruined her makeup the makeup that she liked to wear on these types of days just to piss him off, knowing that he thought “excess makeup is for whores and catfishes. I already know you’re a whore, well, my whore, but you’re not even good enough at applying makeup to be deemed a catfish so don’t even try it hummingbird” while screaming in his face to let go, for the love of god Hawks PLEASE let me go I want to go home I don’t want this anymore I don’t want YOU anymore this isn’t working out I don’t love you-

And crack would be the sound of his palm across her face, knocking her to the floor. On these types of days he wouldn’t even think she deserved a change in facial expression, staring down at her pathetic trembling body while his lips were set in a subtle casual smile, his hands stuffed in his pockets as if he never raised an arm a second ago, and his eyes remained golden and neutral, the only indication of him processing her tantrum was the black glint in his pupils that dilated every time she gasped and sobbed on the floor.

To ensure that his precious, oh-so fragile lovebird wouldn’t hurt herself any further with her stupidity, he’d crouch down inches away from her face and cock his head slightly as a real bird would do. He’d reach out and lift her chin to face him while his other hand would snake up her thigh to try and console her which only succeeded in making her shake and breath unevenly.

Leaning forward to ghost his lips over the shell of her ear, he’d relish in the way her mouth would part in terror as he would lovingly whisper every threat of what he’d do to her the next time she wanted to be like a brat, because god help her if she thought he couldn’t tame a brat after dealing with a lifetime of villains.

It was almost laughable, how easy she was to silence. He didn’t even need to use feathers to pull her to her feet when he would tell her to go to the bed and get on all fours like the bitch she was.

She had to earn her way back into being his good, obedient little dove, on days like these.

But after these days would pass and she would indeed realign with his expectations, he would reward her greatly.

Never like this, though.

Y/n is brought to the present again as another flash of light from the paparazzi snaps her out of her daze. As the spots begin to fade from her vision, she sees Keigo in front of her adorning his trademark “for the fans-only” grin, although Y/n would call it a sleazy smile, the same smile he would give her before he signaled his feathers to cut deep into her feet so she’d stop kicking at him as he dragged her on the floor and feels him squeeze her hand a little too tightly to be dubbed as endearing.

“Stop zoning out on me, you look like a ditz”, he hisses through his teeth, his grin now resembling more of a bared-teeth look.

She tries to try to fix her face and pull the corners of her mouth up, attempting to also brighten her eyes and looking interested at the blond interviewer who was now conversing with Hawks about his recent team-up with Endeavor. It takes every ounce of self-restraint to not shove past the phony smiles and flashy attire enveloping her and waltz down the red carpet to the doors of the gala. She thinks if she hears him utter another word about how he’s so incredibly blessed to have the love and support of my fans, family, and most importantly, my girlfriend who has stuck by my side through thick and thin, she’ll puke on the bedazzled yellow dress the interviewer has on.

As if. He’d probably whisk her off to the nearest bathroom and pummel her on the floor right then and there just for being distracted, but not before fucking her as well.

She feels Hawks nudge her side, and on cue she darts her head up and really plasters on a blinding smile as she focuses on the question that was just asked to her.

“Sorry, what was that? I think I got distracted by your outfit, you look lovely tonight, an absolute catch.” She winks for good measure, just to salvage the damage of ignoring the conversation and Keigo’s tight-lipped smile, which was beginning to soften.

Bingo.

“Oh you’re so sweet! I can see why Mr. Number Two here swooped in to take such a cutie like yourself.” The interviewer giggled, twirling a golden lock around her finger. “But no worries, I was just saying you should come make a public appearance more often! I mean, the media barely gets to see you with Hawks intimately, it would be a great excuse to get all glammed-up as well...I mean, if Hawks here hasn’t got his talons sunk too deep into you.” She laughs shrilly and doesn’t notice how both Y/n and Keigo tense up at her insinuation.

Yeah lady, you’re not too far from the truth. The last time I tried to look nice and go outside, I was bedridden for a week and a half while nursing frozen peas over 7 different parts of my body, inside and out.

But if Keigo can bullshit more than he can tell the truth, then so could she.

She laughs warmly and places her hand on his shoulder lightly, just to sell the “supportive girlfriend” look.

“Well, I really would love to come out and show my support for him more often, but we’ve both agreed that with all the publicity anyways, it’s just too much pressure for me to deal with. I’d rather just stick with what I know and keep it hush between him and I.” She turns her gaze to Keigo now, superficially giving him a puppy-in-love look but discreetly seeking his approval if what she said was the correct thing or not.

He merely gave her an amused smile, as if to say damn, wasn’t expecting that answer but I guess it’s fine. Yeah. Two can play at that game.

Pleased with her answer, the blond bimbo turns on her heel and sashays away, leaving the couple by themselves.

Keigo gives Y/n a side eye and cautiously holds out his elbow for her to take. A peace offering for the meantime, just to reward her for the quick save.

Don’t fuck this up for me, or you’ll regret it tenfold when we get back home.

“Shall we?” He waits for her to oblige, and of course she does.

Arm-in arm, they gracefully walk down the red carpet towards the gold plated doors. Upon entering, Y/n’s breath is taken away at the grand hall, with red banners hanging from the balconies that had navy blue and gold words of praise for the heroes engraved in the silk. Hundreds of pro heroes filled the room, much more than what she was used to from only interacting with her captor for months.

Guiding her over to the long granite bar, Keigo squeezes her arm before lightly dropping it. Before she can move, he stands directly in front of her and his vermillion wings unfurl and slightly surround the two of them, creating their own little space. To others, it might’ve just looked like two lovers embracing each other and having their own little moment. Y/N knew better, however, and suspected he had ulterior motives.

She was right.

“I’m gonna leave you here for a few minutes, ‘kay? I don’t want you moving from here,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, and she had to suppress a shudder at his unwanted proximity. “The feather stays on, and I better not see or hear anything funny while I’m away.”

She nodded and touched her necklace that was indeed laced with one of his feathers, remembering the deal he made when he agreed to let you out for the day.

Ah yes, the dreaded feather.

When she had approached him on shaking legs two days prior, Hawks was brushing his hair in the bathroom, keen on meticulously keeping it styled and ruffed up in the morning. It was one of the things that Y/N would begrudgingly say was one of his finest features, along with his natural eyeliner-shaped markings and rugged yet handsome facial features.

On good days, she liked to lightly trace her fingers and across his sharp jawline and feel the stubble growing on his blushed face. She’d try to stop immediately however, when he’d open his eyes and catch her hand, moving it across his body much to her chagrin and down to his-

She had stood outside the door, fumbling with the hem of her thin nightie and desperately trying to pull the short material past her bare thighs as she mustered up the courage to bring up her proposition.

Keigo slowly ceased his brushing when he saw the meek little thing quivering outside his door, and he quirked up an amused eyebrow. He braced both arms on either side of the sink, and let out a light exhale, before addressing her.

“Something wrong hummingbird?”

She dragged her eyes from the floor up to his dilated golden irises, and blurted out what she had been rehearsing in her head for the past couple of days:

“DoyouthinkIcouldcomewithyoutothegala?”

“Huh?” he snickered, thoroughly bewildered by what incomprehensible nonsense she had stuttered out.

Y/N bit her lip and took in a shaky breath, strike one, she fumbled her first try.

“Haw- uh, Keigo,” she corrected quickly. He preferred her using his first name, his real name. He claimed it made things more intimate between them as if carving his name on her back hadn't been enough to seal their “intimacy’-she didn’t need to be told twice what to call him by after that day “I was wondering...if I’m good and I don’t give you a hard time, can I come with you to the hero's gala?”

Keigo’s brow furrowed slightly, and he cocked his head to the side like a real bird. He seemed to be contemplating it.

“Alright,” he conceded after a couple seconds. “If, and I mean if you listen to me and don’t try any funny business while we’re there I’ll let you tag along.”

Y/N darted her eyes up to him, hope swimming in her heart.

“But you have to wear the feather.”

She immediately blanched.

A major inconvenience that she had come to terms with in the duration of her stay with him had been his stupid fucking feathers that layed oh-so-casually around the floor where she walked and coincidentally clinging to her clothes wherever she went out of Keigo’s eyesight, even though she was trapped on the same floor with him.

They had special properties; they could detect any movement, sense any vibration whenever he called for it. This made for a perfect tracker for Y/N in terms of whenever he wanted an update on her heartbeat, her mood, her whereabouts, and anything in between.

Yes, it was suffocating. But she would much rather it only be a suffocating feeling rather than him actually directing hundreds of feathers to surround her and hold her down on the bed or floor to do whatever he wanted with her in any position he pleased.

She didn’t dare complain to his face, however. She’d grit her teeth, grin and bear it, listen to every whim he demanded of her if it meant one night of superficial normalcy.

And so she put on her best behavior on the days leading up to the main event. She made dozens of dishes that circulated around chicken (his favorite binge food), she let them have “cuddle time”, with no complaints whatsoever when he insisted on bathing her and dressing her up in stupid pink frilly skirts, and she even gave him little subtle looks with a batting of her eyelashes when he looked down fondly at her good mannerisms and praised her for being such a sweet little birdie.

Eventually, her acting paid off and on the morning of the gala she was merited with a silk red dress that stopped at her upper thigh, ornamented with gold earrings and a 12K necklace to really sell off the look-which was of course wrapped around one of his feathers. Hawks had even hired a makeup artist who was instructed to not ask or say anything to Y/N save for questions about the products, much to her pleasant surprise.

She was still reminded of how much she had to grovel for him every time he rewarded her that afternoon.

“You look stunning, chickadee,” Keigo leaned against the dresser with his arms crossed, and smiled warmly at Y/N. “You’re making her look like a real model, maybe she should take over my job instead. Or, actually, maybe you could stop by my agency and make me all pretty for my next photoshoot.” He directed this last tease at the makeup artist and winked, causing the oblivious employee to giggle and blush.

Ugh, barf. He’s even a sleaze when I’m right here.

Y/N feigned a roll of her eyes, which didn’t go unnoticed by the hero. She could feel his dilated eyes boring into her the rest of the 15 minutes of touch-ups. Eventually everything was done, and Hawks left praise after shameless praise fall from his lips and onto the poor fangirl’s heart as he guided her out the door, a hand on her lower back as he did so.

She took the opportunity to get up and walk to the full-length mirror, admiring how she looked for the first time in ages. Gone were the multi-colored marks that decorated her body as if she were nothing more than a mere canvas for her painter to use. Her eyes seemed a little brighter too, and it wasn’t just the makeup that caused it. She stood a little straighter and squared her shoulders, her chin tilted up more than before while she stared at her reflection. She didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror, and she liked it for once.

It was ridiculous, she knew it was to feel so vain but she couldn’t help but bask in her potential freedom for just one night. She looked gorgeous, she felt confident, and she had earned it all on her own.

Cocking her head to the side, she tried to practice a couple smiles to be camera-ready for when the time came. She turned the corners of her lips up, then showed her teeth, and even tried fluffing her hair up sensually. Biting her lip slightly, she threw her head back, causing her curled locks to bounce and lowered her eyelids to look sexy. She giggled at her own stupidity and poses, completely unaware that a certain winged-man had entered the room and leaned against the door for the past couple of minutes, simply watching the little show she put on.

“That's quite a look you’ve got there hun, why don’t you make those faces more often with me?”

She immediately froze, her breath hitching. She didn’t dare look at him in the eye from the mirror.

“I mean, I’m the only one who should be seeing such a slutty expression anyways, right?” He said ever-so casually, hands in his pockets as he slowly strolled up behind her, and she couldn’t help but think as her eyes darted up to meet him in the mirror that the sadistic shit-eating grin on his face didn’t suit so well with his god-like features.

She visibly wilted, her shoulders hunched and head down in contrast to the tall, powerful woman she had felt like mere seconds ago. Her breath quickened as he leaned over her shoulder, grazing his teeth over the sensitive part under her ear, and she bit her lip harshly to stop the squeak that threatened to escape her trembling lips.

“If I had known that a pretty dress and some makeup would make you act like a wanton little whore, I would’ve done this wayyy sooner. I guess you really are just another dumb bimbo bitch who does anything she’s told if she gets to feel important for a night.” He whispered in her ear, resting his head on her shoulder and looking up at her with innocent eyes, ones that imitated the mocking tone of voice he used.

It seemed like he wanted her to feel disgusting, to wilt under his cruel words that he used like knives-knives that were sharpened with his tone and body language, knives that were so intimately and carefully chosen. They worded so that they were used to their full extent to cut and carve through her heart.

“Is that what you are my little songbird, hmm? You wanna be a pretty baby and have everyone’s attention on you? I’m hurt, here I was thinking I was enough for you.” He pouted, and with every word he spoke the grip his hands had around her waist tightened.

She tried to protest but he plowed through her pitiful attempts.

“Hell, if you want some attention so bad and whore yourself out, I should call over some friends! Yeah, we can skip tonight’s gala, would you like that songbird? For me to share you with my friends so they can satiate your whorish needs?” And at his he shook her lightly, his grip around her middle choking her and cutting off her circulation. “N-no, Hawks,” she wheezed out. “I just... liked my makeup, that’s it. I only want you, I promise. I won’t cause any trouble tonight, please don’t call any friends over.”

She looked up at him in the mirror with eyes the size of saucers, blinking away tears and trying her best to show how apologetic she was at her audacity to feel good about herself.

He loosened his arms and straightened up, peering down at her disgustedly. He had absolutely no regrets about the way she sucked in air immediately when he relented, or about the way she frantically brushed the tears from her eyes, trying to preserve her mascara from running. (not that he would’ve minded). She needed to learn her lesson; he controlled her highs and lows. Only he had the permission of holding her fragile emotions in the palm of his hand, and if she didn't want that palm turning into a fist and breaking her, she would do well not to piss him off and treading carefully about flaunting what was meant for his eyes only.

She wanted to lock herself in the bathroom and cry out to her heart's content from being embarrassed and degraded like this. She kept absolutely still however, when she felt his hands lightly tracing the feather on her collarbones. It was an unspoken threat, and when their eyes met once again in the mirror, the way he sized her up confirmed it.

The feather stayed on.

Which brought her back to the present.

Y/N had already downed 3 glasses of champagne while reminiscing about earlier today, something Hawks would’ve surely tutted at. Finding herself bored, she meandered around the bar, keeping close to where he left her.

She scanned the room for her ‘lover’ and found him laughing with a group of his friends, his head thrown back and the charming sound of his deep yet lilted voice carrying through the hall, entrapping anyone who was around.

He certainly had presence, no sense in denying it.

Any girl would’ve been crazy to deny him, and Y/N wished that Hawks had fallen for a girl that didn’t want to deny him out of his hundreds of fangirls a point that was set in stone in Y/N’s mind when she saw a tall brunette clinging to his arm while she shrieked with laughter at whatever stupid story Hawks was telling.

Said fangirl seemed to also have been put under his contagious spell, from the way she so obviously threw herself on his arm and pushed her chest against his side under the pretense of shaking with laughter. Various other parts of her body seemed to be shaking against him too, but he didn’t seem to mind based on the smirk he quickly looked down at her with.

For the second time that night, Y/N wanted to throw up.

Was it jealousy? Negative. Rather, it was frustration that he literally had girls throwing themselves at him, tits hanging out and all but yet he wanted what he knew he couldn’t have. She assumed that it was this mentality of his that landed him at being Number 2, chasing after the seemingly impossible until it was tangible.

It was easier on some days to try to understand his point of view. It was much better than getting lost in the hours pondering what kind of bad karma she inherited from a past life to go through this hell. But on some mornings when she felt stone-cold sober, she remembered that she was a person, not some objective or conquest that he had rightfully won. Deciding to try and take her mind off from the trainwreck that was unfolding in front of her, Y/N aimlessly wandered to the side of the bar and down a grand hallway that was less crowded and had less Hawks.

On either side of the hall, giant bronze frames held the portraits of past heroes and had little scriptures of their accomplishments. Hawks had always talked about how he wanted his name up there, and how one day he was going to do something incredible to have his own face up on the hall of fame. His idol, Endeavor, already has taken place on the wall right next to All Might’s frame, and Y/N looks up and ponders at both of their pictures.

And how befitting is it, that Hawk’s idol is also accused of a sinister and tumultuous family past.

Maybe he doesn’t need to work too hard to follow in the footsteps of the number one hero.

“Quite the hero, Endeavor is. Even though there is controversy about the nature of his past and his redemption efforts, he set many precedents as to how a true hero should act.” Y/N’s head snaps to the right where Edgeshot had just joined her. He wore a navy blue tux with red seams, his trademark mask covering the lower half of his face.

“Yeah, you’d think his admirers would try to follow in the footsteps of changing themselves too,” she muttered bitterly. “I’ve noticed his biggest fans seem to take after his more...old brutish traits rather than the better person he’s trying to be now.”

The masked hero laughed softly, and Y/N looked at him suspiciously.

“What, you don’t think heroes have their own fair share of flaws?” She challenged.

“No no, don’t get me wrong of course. I would be on an inappropriate level of naivety to assume that, considering I’m a part of the whole corrupt system itself. I think, however, that change within a person comes after an extended time of self-reflection. You have to look within yourself and accept that you were wrong in the first place, if you want to change.”

Y/N was quiet for a moment.

“Do you think the villains are ever right? About society brushing the flipside of heroism under the carpet, I mean. It doesn’t matter if the heroes are trying to save people because it's expected of them, if they aren’t actually compassionate about their cause then is there really a point?” She asked desperately, hoping he could understand her.

Edgeshot hesitated for a moment before answering.

“In my years of experience,” he said quietly, still looking up at Endeavor’s painting, “the ones who have at heart a solid reason for acting the way they do are most always justified. It may not always be a good reason, but a foundation always gives way to a justification that can be argued for.”

All of a sudden, Y/N gasped as white hot pain sliced through her sternum. She looked down and saw the red feather on her necklace quivering as a fine line of red sprouted from the cut it made.

“Are you alright?” Edgeshot asked, looking fairly alarmed, his hand reaching for her shoulder.

“Yes, of course! My necklace is just a little sharp, a little edge just nicked me that's all.” She said shrilly, already backing away from the concerned hero. Turning on her heel, she picked up the hem of her dress and tottered out of the hall, not paying any mind to the vermillion plumage that drifted down her chest, past her waist and eventually clinging onto her leg, making little nips and stabs here and there.

Blood was pounding through her head as she navigated the way back to where Hawks had left her to be. Her palms were sweaty and she was sure her hair was becoming messy as she whipped her head around, attempting to look past tall heads and bodies that blocked her way to the bar.

Shitshitshitshit god please don’t let him be there already please please please-

But it seemed as though god wasn’t in a merciful mood, because lo and behold, the raptor was leaning against the long granite island with a glass in his hand.

He seemed to be casually grinning, swirling a maroon substance in his cup and choking it down leisurely, but as Y/N drew closer she knew-as expected- he seemed off.

The smell of alcohol was nauseating around him, he must have been drinking something strong. His wings, although lightly flapping behind him, were pointed at the edges and shaking lightly. His eyes were completely dilated, and were shifting around the room until they settled on her meek figure rushing up to him.

“Hey there birdy, long time no see. Did you have a good chat with Edgeshot? I’m sure you both enjoyed talking shit about me behind my back.” Y/N winced at how charismatic and booming his laugh was after his ominous remark. It was too carefree, a complete cover-up of how she knew he was actually feeling, and that scared her the most.

“Hawks I-”

“Keigo, sweetheart, did you forget my name already after talking with just one person? Damn, I’m hurt, guess keeping you locked up at home was the right decision after all if you’re acting like such a stone-cold bitch now.”

She stared up at him, openmouthed and thoroughly panicked now. He was talking too much, he was going to expose himself and her-

Wait. Why is she covering for him? Wouldn’t it be better if he blabbed everything else so people could realize what he’s doing? Maybe someone would intervene and save her!

But it seemed like he was three steps ahead of her and had already figured that out, because his face flushed slightly and his eyes darkened and narrowed, with lips set in a flat line. When Y/N saw this change, she tried to back away but he quickly grabbed her hand and yanked her out the room and through the exit doors. It was all happening so fast, she could hear various people call out to Hawks but he plowed through them so fast that she didn’t have time to even process that they were out of the building and in the air.

She screamed as he soared to an even higher altitude, clinging onto his neck for dear life. The wind whipped past her face, stinging her cheeks with the frigid cold and water particles that embedded on her lashes. Hawks was laughing hysterically the entire time he gained height, his talons ripping through her dress and piercing her skin, even overlapping the previous cuts his feather had made earlier.

“S-stop, what’re you doing, are you fucking crazy?” She shrieked, her words losing volume as the air was ripped out of her lungs.

“KEIGO, its KEIGO you stupid fucking cunt!” he screamed in her face. His arms loosened around her waist, and suddenly Y/N was falling, falling, falling straight for the asphalt.

She couldn’t even turn her head as her limp body plummeted down for imminent death. Her lungs begged for oxygen, fear settling like lead in her stomach, but the second she closed her eyes for what she thought was the last time, (Hawks) Keigo swooped down and yanked her back into his sinister embrace by her hair.

Ignoring the ripping strands she felt in her skull, she flailed around in midair trying to grab onto something-she reached up to grab his foot but he noticed and kicked her square in the face. Y/N had never before felt such terror and pain, mentally or physically.

Damn her pride, she wants to live for god's sake.

“Keigo,” she sobbed, remembering just in time to use his real name lest he smash her teeth in again, “please put me down, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I talked to Edgeshot but I swear it wasn’t anything bad or about you.” The warm blood streaming down her nose began to harden on her upper lip from the chilly altitude they had reached.

Abruptly, he shifted his grip and pulled her up by her hair (she winced at that painful adjustment) so that he could hold her around her waist now.

They had to have been at least 200 or so feet in the air. The pair had cleared their way through some clouds and could clearly see the full moon right in front of them. It was deathly quiet except for Y/N’s labored breathing through her fractured nose, and her fear racked even further as she looked up at Hawks and realized that he was simply staring down at her with completely dilated eyes that narrowed and gleamed at her expression. He truly looked like a bird of prey right now, a predator that was forcing her to play the part of his prey, a point that solidified when he suddenly wrapped one hand around her throat to feel her heartbeat that thumped like a rabbits’.

The light from the moon reflected off his back, causing his front to be completely shadowed so that the contours of his sharp face seemed ever more looming and dangerous. Both of them stayed suspended in the air for a minute or two like that, Y/N not daring to speak unless he granted her a sign to repent.

After a long, painstakingly suspenseful minute of studying her face, he finally growled “We’re going home.”

It seemed to take only a mere couple of minutes for the Number Two hero to travel halfway across the city. Y/N barely had time to try and drink in the beautiful colors that accented the winding streets and buildings below her, knowing that it would most probably be a long time before she saw anything else that resembled freedom again.

He finally began to descend rapidly, forcing her to cling onto his jacket and shove her face into the crook of his neck to avoid getting whiplash. Peeking through her lashes, she recognized the balcony floor of his penthouse rushing underneath their feet. Dread and anxiety surged through her veins as he finally landed and postiviley threw her off of him and onto the wooden floor. She slid a good couple of feet and skinned her legs in the process, unable to stop her momentum as she slammed back into a lamp.

Dazed, she saw stars as she rubbed her aching head. Unfortunately she didn’t see him, rushing over to her the second she landed.

He grabbed her jaw tight and wrenched her bleary eyes to look up at him.

What he saw was beautiful.

A trembling mess beneath him, makeup runny and complemented with blood that flowed from her nose like an eternal stream. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the way she kept flinching any time he shifted; it made his pants tighten and caused his teeth to grit in what he measured to be the absolute last bits of self restraint he had for the night. He had truly ruined her, and he internally patted himself on the back at his work.

Was he mad? Yes, wholly and completely at her betrayal of his orders.

Did he regret losing his temper? Absolutely not. In fact, if you ask him, he should get mad at her more often like this. If it merited her pliant and vulnerable being, then who was he to deny such pleasure? Fuck he should’ve done this from the start- blowing up at mild disobediance instead of acting like a doting, patient boyfriend.

“You alive?” he roughly shook her head and her teeth chattered inside her skull while he did so.

“Yes,” she whispered, mouth popped open by his gloved fingers as he shoved a digit inside her warm and wet cavern. It was embarrassing how drool seeped through her lips and dribbled down her chin, but humility was the least concerning factor in her environment at the moment.

“Good. After acting like such a tramp you better fucking be. I told you one thing,” and he slapped her for added emphasis to his frustration, “can you repeat what I told you? Or are you so braindead that you can’t remember the one order I gave you when I trusted you to sit still and look pretty like a good little bitch?”

“Nnngh, no I rem-I remember.” Y/N panted out, attempting to talk through puckered lips and drool. “You told me to stay at the bar and not to move.”

“Exactly. So what part of that was so hard to understand, huh?” He hissed through his teeth, looking deranged.

“I just got bored, that’s all. I wanted to talk to another person…” Even though she didn’t finish her sentence, Hawks understood her perfectly.

I wanted to talk to another person apart from you.

He let out a mocking laugh, stretching his arms over his head to hide his shaking fists. Rage swept through his body like wildfire, licking up his throat and cheeks. His face was flushed and unreadable to Y/N as he sauntered around the couch and plopped down on it, spreading his legs to seem as uncouth as possible.

She sat shivering on the floor, unsure of if he wanted her to follow him or wither away on the floor like a mutt.

As he sighed loudly however, her body immediately tensed as though bracing for another painful impact. She daringly peeked over her shoulder and saw the back of his head protruding from the black and red leather couch. Lazily flicking his wrist up to a height where she could see, he vaguely beckoned her over without saying a word.

Immediately she scampered over to him and situated herself at his feet (where she belonged). Her eyes were downcast, and he begrudgingly accepted it as a form of submission on her part. No sense in beating the disobedience out of her now if she already knows what she did wrong.

Hawks heaved out another heavy sigh and let his head fall backwards. On one hand, he was slightly drunk and his head was killing him-he just wanted to go to sleep and forget today ever happened. However, there was a problem that was contributing to his growing migraine, and that problem was sitting right in front of him, practically kneeling at his feet for mercy. More than sleep, he wanted to take care of said issue and call it a night, so he decided to skip the sweet talk and warm up.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, kid. I’m gonna close my eyes and by the time I open them you better have already thought of a way to make tonight up to me, and you better have already put that plan in action. Then, we’re going to bed and when you wake up you’ll regret the day you even thought of talking to anyone apart from me, since you seem to have forgotten who’s been coddling your ass all this time.” He sneered, relishing at the way Y/N’s face went pale.

True to his word, he closed his eyes, glad to see his last view as the pathetic bitch who was about to service him. The feel of slight fumbling on his zipper made him feel even more drunk and giddy as it was pulled down. Maybe the entire evening wasn’t a complete wash after all.

Yeah, he should take her out a lot more.

#yandere hawks #yandere x y/n #bnha yandere #mha x reader #bnha #hawks x reader #hawks smut #hawks x y/n #bnha hawks #mha hawks #kidnapping #tw dubcon #mha #yandere #yandere hawks x reader

[goldencherryhazz]

Work from home

A/N: first smut piece, let me know your thoughts, pls don’t copy my work, feedback and notes would be much appreciated!probably some mistakes 🤍

daddy!harry x sub!reader

Warnings: smut, daddy kink, oral, spanking, fluff. Pure filth basically.

WC: 3k

Harry hated leaving y/n, just so that he could endure countless meetings on zoom with his team, producers and whatnot when he could be spending time with his girl, after having to spending so long away from each other whilst he was on tour, but he knew it had to be done due to the ongoing pandemic, and the world basically coming to a halt. He loved his job and his fans, so he was going to do anything he could remotely, to try and bring some normalcy to this whirlwind.

Now Harry was a hard working man, and once he was in the zone, he didn’t liked to be interrupted until he was finished. He had left a kiss to her head when he left to go to his office a mere 2 hours ago which made her stir from her slumber. She wanted more, and had fallen back to sleep with the thought of being stuffed with his cock, leaving her to wake up again with the feeling of emptiness and need.

She tried to snap out of it, but doing that didn’t stop her from falling into subspace, she genuinely tried to get herself off, to satisfy herself, she started by lifting he shirt up, hissing as the chilly air came into contact with her nipples, hardening them, she pinched each one, twiddling them between her forefinger and thumb, before venturing lower down her stomach, tracing her hands over it until she touched the band of her sleep shorts, she wasted no time it taking them off and flinging them over the side of the bed, she then touched over her damp pussy, starting to rub light circles onto her clit, getting even wetter at the thought of Harry teasing her little cunt then fucking her into oblivion, she then teased two fingers over her entrance before pushing them in and curving them so that they hit her sweet spot, pushing them in and out, but getting no closer to cumming, she eventually gave up after about 5 minutes, and then made a decision, which led her to where she is now...

Stood outside Harry’s office, clad in one of her best sets of lingerie, that she knew Harry loved, as a lure to try and convince him, she took in a nervous breath, she hoped that he wouldn’t decline her, she couldn’t wait any longer. Y/n was willing to do anything in order to be able to have Harry make her cum, she just wanted the tingling sensation in he clit to be dealt with.

She knocked twice, opening the door as soon as she heard a gruff ‘come in` , she took two steps into the room, shutting the door behind her, before waiting patiently for Harry to stop typing and look up at her.

‘What the fuck are you wearing darling` he uttered already knowing the already obvious answer.

She took in the way he looked her up and down, almost hungrily, he was trying not to just give in to her which was quite impossible most of the time, he could feel his cock stirring in the loose fabric of his sweats, but he knew that she knew that he didn’t like to be disturbed whilst he was working, if she wanted him that badly, he was going to make her work for it.

‘Really need you daddy' she said without hesitation.

‘Aww baby, you feeling subby today` he cooed.

‘Yeah, tried to make myself cum, but I knew it wouldn’t be the same as you, my clits tingling daddy’

‘Well unfortunately for you daddy’s working, how bad do you need me baby, tell me’ he questioned, resting his head on the palm of his hand.

‘Need you to fuck me daddy, need to feel you inside me, I want you to choke me, be a little rough with me, I’m just feeling really empty` she choked out, her eyes glazing over in frustration.

The sudden sound of an incoming zoom call made its way through the room, he looked at her dead in the eyes ‘I’ve got an idea baby, how about you get yourself off on the corner of my desk, you’ve got to be quiet though, don’t want anyone to knowing what my naughty girls doing, and no cumming, you understand baby?’

‘Yes daddy` she said, walking over to his desk, her knees slightly weak.

He answered the call, greeted his team, trying not to get distracted by y/n as she hovered over the corner of his desk, before bending her knees slightly, her clothed clit coming into contact with the cold surface of the wood, making her hiss quietly, she braced both of her hands on the desk, before starting to slide her pussy back and forth, creating a delicious friction that she couldn’t get enough of.

Harry managed to focus on the meeting for the majority of it, flicking his eyes back to her every so often, watching as she traced he dainty fingers over her bare tummy, toying with her breast, he could feel himself getting harder and harder under his desk, to the point where he could feel his cock throbbing, y/n had managed to get through the call without making too much noise, only received a few warning glares when she moaned a little to loudly when she could feel herself on the brink of a release, knowing that she couldn’t cum, it was torture basically, the mixture of friction, Harry’s voice and knowing that he would probably he rock hard by now, but she knew that it would be worth it if she kept it up for a bit longer.

A little while later Harry was uttering goodbye’s to his team, sighing in relief as he practically slammed his computer shut, y/n was lost in pleasure , soo much that she hadn’t taken any notice that Harry had finished his call. He palmed himself to try and releave some of the building pressure in his cock, he knew that he would give into her eventually, but he was going to mess with her a little more before that.

‘Baby, come over here` she obeying like a little puppy, instantly walking towards him, becoming giddy at the thought that she might finally be getting what she wanted, more like needed.

Harry patted his thighs, signaling for her to straddle him, he could see that her panties were practically soaked through as she sat directly on his cock, making him hiss, she placed her hands on his shoulders, before Harry placed his hand on the back of her head, bringing her in for a hungry kiss, teeth clashing, thier tongues dancing with each other, the desperation making them both impossibly hornier.

Harry broke away from this kiss first, both of them gasping for air, she ran her thumb over the smooth skin of his jawline, his ringless fingers grasping at her hips.

‘Are you going to fuck me now daddy` she says out of the blue, really wanting the ache in her pussy to be dealt with.

Oh darling, didn’t think I forgot that you interrupted me whilst I was working did you, moaning whilst I was talking to my team, my friends, they could have heard you, ya know, you know daddy doesn’t like to share, dont you baby, think I need to teach you a lesson first.’

‘But I was a good girl daddy` she whimpered

‘Yes you were, still doesn’t excuse you from interrupting me though.’

She huffed ‘no baby, don’t get all huffy and puffy with me, you decided to walk into my office in your bra and panties whilst I was working, could’ve waited you know, and if you did I would be fucking you right now, but we’re here, so baby, how about you get my rings out and put them on for me, think someone deserves a spanking.

She slowly turned in his lap, reaching into the second draw in his desk to retrieve his rings, shakily placing them on thier own designated finger.

‘How many spanks do you think you should get today doll’

‘4’ she said hopefully.

‘Only four baby, best make it five then, an extra one for good look, ey.’

She rolled her eyes which Harry caught, ‘I can make it 6 if you want baby` he said gripping her chin lightly.

‘No, I’m sorry daddy’ she whimpered

‘You better be, you’re lucky that I’m even considering letting you have my cock today’

Y/n knew she had to tred carefully now, so she stood up and faced away from him, before bending over his desk, bracing herself, and willing to take whatever Harry had to offer. She secretly loved when Harry spanked her, the feeling of his hand crashing down onto her ass, his cold rings making little indents on her skin, the dominance he had over her as he marked her, she loved it and Harry did too.

Harry had stood up at this point ‘are you ready doll, want you to count each one for me.

‘Okay dad-fuck, daddy’ she squealed in surprise as his hand came crashing down, the sound of the slap reverberating through the room, his hand running over the supple flesh.

‘One’ she whimpered

*slap*

‘Two’

*slap*

‘Three’

‘Doing so good baby, only a couple more’ he smirked loving the control he had over her.

*slap*

‘Four’

*slap*

‘Five’ she cried, small tears in her eyes from the intensity, Harry marvelled over his work, as he could see what looked like two red handprints over both her ass cheeks, he smoothed over the skin lightly not wanting to cause her any more pain.

‘You okay baby’ he asked, wanting to make sure he hadn’t actually hurt her, they had already made a safe word, but he would never forgive himself if he hurt his girl.

‘Yeah, I’m okay daddy’ she sniffled slightly.

‘Think you deserve my cock now baby, took that soo well, such a good little slut for daddy aren’t you, went through all of that, just so you could get my cock.’

‘Oh I’d do anything for your cock daddy’ she says making him go wild, he instantly gripped her shoulder, making her stand up straight, before turning he around to bring her in for another heated kiss. ‘Jump’ he muttered between kisses, to which she obliged, wrapping her legs round his waist and her arms rounds his neck, practically like a koala bear.

He slowly back up to the desk again carefully laying her down not breaking the kiss, y/n being quiet relieved as the cool wood soothed her sore ass, Harry pressed himself into her, wanting to feel every inch of her body, she could also feel his hard cock dig into the side of her thigh.

She starts tugging at the end of his t-shirt, hinting for him to take his clothes off in which he happily obeyed, he had opted for no boxers today making the process even quicker, she saw the way his thick length sprang into his bare belly once he had taken his t-shirt and sweats off, throwing them not caring where they landed, the sight made her mouth water, she could see the large head of his cock was a shade of angry red leaking pre-cum, and the large protruding purple vein on the underside of his cock, which she couldn’t wait to feel against her walls.

Harry then wastes no time in ripping her underwear off of her, her juices now coating the inside of her thighs, she looked delicious and Harry could resist having a taste, so he dipped his head down, holding her legs apart, licking a large stripe through her folds which made her buck her hips up into his mouth.

‘Holy fuck’ she moaned, her clit being a little sensitive, but she honestly didn’t care right now.

He continued swirling his tounge around her pussy, dipping into he weepy hole occasionally, making her squirm in his grip, he couldn’t get enough of her sweet taste, he could stay between her legs all day if he could.

‘Feels so good daddy, but I really want your cock’ she whimpered.

‘Yeah, you want my cock baby, you can have my cock’ he finishes with a kiss to her clit, before trailing sloppy kisses up her belly towards the valley of her breasts, reaching one hand beneath her to unhook her bra, in which she arched he back slightly, helping him remove the lacy fabric, once she was completely bare beneath him, he takes one of her nipples into his mouth, swirling his tounge around the pebbled nub, doing the same to the other. He eventually made his way back to her lips, after leaving multiple hickeys on her collar bones and neck, marking her as his ‘you’re so beautiful darling’

He put his hand on either side of her head, her hands roaming over his beautifully inked arms, tracing over certain tattoos, making a shiver run up his spine, loving the gentleness of her fingers, ‘m’gonna fuck you now baby’ he says lining his cock up with her entrance ‘please, daddy’ she begs, he finally slips into her in one long thrust, making her arch her back and her eyes roll into the back of her head ‘Daddy Fuck..holy shit, you’re so big’ she cried feeling her walls stretch around his cock.

Harry also a groaning mess ‘so tight for me, s’like you were made for me’

He regains his composure before pulling almost all the way out and thrusting sharply into her cunt, starting to set a steady rhythm ‘not gonna last long doll’, her legs wrap around his waist, wanted him to be as close as possible, her hands find home on his back, her grip starting to make tiny red scratches, which he would later be reminded of when he took a shower.

Harry was now fucking her hard and deep, hitting her sweet spot with every thrust, the only sound in the room was skin hitting skin, the squelching sound of he pussy as he fucked her, breathy moans, and the occasional ‘daddy fuck yes’. He felt like he could burst with how good he felt, her warm, wet walls completely engulfing him, ‘who does this cunt belong to pet.’

‘You daddy, it’s all yours’ she breathes out, making him moan into her mouth as he kissed her plushy lips, her stomach flipping at the admittance.

‘Fuck baby gonna make me cum, you close, want you to cum with me’ she threw her head back at a particularly deep thrust, the pleasure becoming overwhelming ‘no baby’ he said gripping her chin, making her look at him again ‘want you to look at me when you fall apart, can you don’t that for me’

‘Yes daddy, m’so close, I’m gonna cum round your cock, so hard’ she whimpered

‘Oh baby, fuck’ her words making hit topple over the edge, his thrusts turning sloppy, ‘I’m cumming, cum with me pet. At this command her limbs turned limp, her head spinning, toes curling, screaming ‘daddy’ like it was the only word she knew, she didn’t think she had cum that hard in her life, Harry painting her walls, his release starting to leak out of her weepy hole, he eventually collapsed on top of her, still maintaining eye contact with her, trying to hold his weight up with his hand, so that he wouldn’t squash her. Harry hadn’t stopped thrusting into her to merely ride out thier highs, basking in both of thier releases, her cunt fluttering round his cock, milking it dry, he rested his head on hers, kissing her softly.

She tried pushing him away after a while when here muscles started spasming, in which he instantly stilled inside her, not wanting her to black out or anything. ‘You good baby, did soo well for me’

‘Don’t think I’ve cum that hard in my life’ she whispered hoarsely, her voice sore from screaming.

‘came hard too baby, can’t get enough of your cunt, m’gonna pull out now, hold my hand might sting a little’

She gripped into his hand, he slowly slipped out of her making her whimper at the loss of contact, starting on feel his cum drip down her thighs, Harry groaning at the sight, ‘looks so pretty with my cum dripping out of you’ he said leaving a soft kiss to her clit ‘can you stand baby’

‘cant feel my legs H’ she smirked knowing that this was fuelling his ego, a lazy smile spreading over her face, slowly starting to slip out of her subspace

He chuckled with her, ‘well I was thinkin’, how about we get cleaned up and take a nice hot bath, and then we can put a film on and cuddle.’

‘Mhmmm’ she hummed ‘that’s sounds perfect’

‘Wait, do you still have meetings’

‘No baby, that was the last one’ he smiled

‘Yayyyy’ she cheered her head still slightly fuzzy

He reached his hands out for her to grab so that she could sit up, hissing as all of her weight went onto her still very sore bum, that she would be reminded about for days to come.

‘We’ll get you an ice- pack as well darling’ he smirked

She managed to stand up on very shaky legs, falling into his bare chest, his arms wrapping round her so that she wouldn’t fall, kissing the top of her head ‘are you going to interrupt me whilst I’m working again baby’

‘Oh definitely daddy’ she whispered into his warm chest!

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles smut imagine #harry styles hot #but daddy i love him #hs fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles is an angel #hazza styles #harold #hs1 #fine line #daddy!harry #work from home #dom!harry #harry smut

[xtodorcki]

“Run,” Levi Ackerman x Reader

Summary: There were warrants out for everyone on Captain Levi’s team along with a few others outside and you being you, you almost get caught and Levi saves the day.

I got this idea off a tik tok :/ where you get caught, jump off the building, boom Levi catches you.

Warnings: none! No spoilers, just season 2-3 Levi

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You were always pushing Levi’s buttons to no end, you were pretty sure you were the only one on his team to edge him on and purposely piss him off in ways the others thought was a little too scary considering how harsh Levi would punish if needed.

But when it came to you, he had a minor soft spot he would keep buried inside of his heart, making sure he kept it well hidden and made sure to punish you like the rest of the team.

Now since there were warrants out for everyone’s arrest after the kidnapping of Historia and Eren, Levi made sure to try his best to keep everyone in place, in check and safe while they came up with a plan to go rescue Eren.

You, on the other hand, didn’t mind and thought of this as a thrilling experience. On the run, it was like a high you never felt before and you wanted to seek more of it.

“Y/N, are you listening?” You snapped out of your endless thoughts, your eyes meeting Levi’s as you both sat alone in front of the camp fire you had built far in the woods away from the town.

“I am, you were talking about the plan going into town.” You repeated small parts of what he said but the rest was a blank and he sighed, scrunching his eyebrows together.

“You’re a pain in the ass.” He grumbled under his breath, his eyes staring at you as if he was trying to read your mind and figure out what was so important that it made you zone out.

He never got the answer though, he was used to the zoning out and your thoughts taking you elsewhere which also puts you in a lot of trouble and at risk since you don’t pay close attention to the key concepts of the mission at hand but he still watched over you like a hawk and he would admit that you were good at your job.

He never regretted picking you to join his team, you were great under pressure and even though you like to dive towards the danger, you still came out on top and always focused and got the job done. That’s what he liked most about you and the small connection you two shared in private was another reason why he was careful on watching over you.

Levi never intended to like one of his cadets, he never had the intention to feel any sort of connection or real feelings, something that was oddly new for him but also exciting when sharing that connection in private whether it was in his office or alone in a empty room.

Time moved on to where it was the day to go into the town. The mission wasn’t difficult to do and Levi was serious about there not being any fights or action behind this. All you had to do was watch the guards and try to find any sort of clues to where Eren could be.

Levi knew though that you would certainly cause trouble one way or another, it was in your nature to do something you weren’t supposed to and that made him a bit on edge, keeping himself prepared for the possibility.

It didn’t take long, as you stood in your designed area and kept your hood up and your gear hidden underneath the cloak, you leaned against the wall and pretended as if you weren’t doing anything suspicious.

As you heard Eren’s name get brought up, you kept your ears open and suddenly someone had tapped on your shoulder, cursing to yourself for not paying closer attention to your surroundings.

You tried to lift your head up slowly, trying to be careful on showing your full face before seeing the guard tug off your hood in an instant, looking at your face and both of you were stunned staring back at one another.

“and what are you doing here? There’s a warrant out for your arrest you know?” The guard was cocky, you didn’t like that and once he grabbed onto your upper arm, you tugged off the coat and used the gear to shoot up on the roof.

“I knew this was going to happen,” Levi mumbled under his breath as he seen you from afar as he stayed on top of the roof.

He had watched you run with a group of guards close behind you. He rolled his eyes at your need to get into some kind of altercation but he made sure to use his gear to stay close behind but far enough for the guards to not notice his presence.

It had taken almost twenty minutes of running to somehow get trapped on top of a tall building with your gear jamming up. You groaned, looking down at the drop down and how this could definitely kill you if you fell down.

“Nowhere to run now.” The military police men laughed at your state and the adrenaline pumping through your body during this moment was beyond addicting.

You were a huge adrenaline monkey, this is why you joined the scouts instead of the boring MPs as they stood around behind the wall like cowards. You had stared at them for a good while, watching them inch closer but you stood up on the ledge.

“What is she doing?! Her gear is jammed, she could die if she jumps!” Armin panicked as all of them watched you from afar, including Levi as he stayed on standby.

“It’s been fun boys but, I gotta run.” A evil grin came across your lips as you saluted them before leaning back and falling off the tall building.

The wind gushing through you was peaceful and you closed your eyes at the feeling of you falling through the sky until you suddenly felt someone snatch you up and you knew without even opening your eyes who it was. You looked up at him, the smile playing on your lips only grew wider.

“Are you insane?! You could’ve died.” Levi angrily looked at you, holding onto your waist with one hand and swinging along the buildings with the other.

“Hm, maybe a little insane but I knew you would catch me.” You mumbled under your breath, your arms securely wrapping around his neck as a small laugh leaves your mouth.

“Yeah right, you just have a death wish.” He was irritated with you by your careless and selfish actions. If he wasn’t there to catch you, you would be long dead and even thinking about that possibility made Levi angry.

He wouldn’t be able to handle it if he was a second too late and you fell on the hard ground, getting killed instantly. He would definitely blame himself but he would also be very much angry with you and your actions.

“Come on, Captain. No need to be so sour.” You teased, leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before he settled on one of the buildings far from everyone else.

“You need to stop being so damn careless.”

He began to soften up from the light peck you gave him but still, in the back of his head he was still pretty angry and he definitely would have to scold you once you two were safe and back at the mini base you made in the woods.

Levi was never the one to overthink things, he was always confident in his plans and his actions along with his cadets actions. He never had any regrets with what he done and wanted to do but the thoughts of you falling down to your death repeated endlessly in his mind over and over again.

His eyes had stared at you and by the look of his face, you knew without him saying a word and that made you start to feel guilty of what you done.

“I’m sorry, Captain. It won’t happen again-“ You began to speak, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug even though he hated hugs.

Levi’s breathing had gone back to normal, trying to get rid of his thoughts and his feelings but they always circled back on you and he couldn’t help that. He was over protective of you, he felt like he needed to and as his feelings for you blossomed within the last months of you being on his team, he just felt like he needed to guard you at all costs.

“Don’t let it happen again, Cadet.”

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Anywhoooo, send in requests🤧

• Masterlist

#levi ackerman #Levi Ackerman x reader #Levi x reader #Levi Ackerman imagines #Levi imagines #attack on titan #aot imagines #aot Levi #Levi imagine #Levi fanfic #Levi Ackerman imagine #Levi Ackerman fanfic

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Hey! You know they prompt with the m!companions waking up after spending the night with some and don’t find them in the bed? Could you do that with F!!companions too? No pressure! /gen

Female!FO4 Companions react to Waking Up Alone After Spending the Night with Sole.

Sooooo, thank you so much for asking for this, cuz I had written about half of it, and then totally forgotten about it until I got this ask, so you are awesome!

This is the second installment to this post (M!FO4 Companions with this prompt) and there will be a part with FO3 and FONV companions as well... eventually 😅

I hope you all enjoy! (And I sincerely apologize in advance for the ridiculous length of this thing [Cait's in particular], I don't know what happens, I think I have a problem. But I super appreciate all of you who stick around to read it all, each and every one of you have my heart.)

Cait:

     A dull ache persisted in Cait's muscles when she stirred beneath the sheets, she scrunched her eyebrows together as her lids rose to reveal the still dark, still disheveled hotel room. What the hell happened last night? The question briefly flashed across her mind before she recalled it. Recalled everything. Cait groaned, stretching out over the mattress, fully prepared to reunite with her lover, to wake you up in the best of ways, to touch you and be with you the way she had been last night.

Fuck. Last night… How the hell had it taken the two of you so long to do that?

Damn trust issues. Can’t they just leave me alone? Look at the good that happens when ya just let me be.

Last night had been the first time you two had been together, the first time the two of you had been intimate, and open, and honest, and real. For the first time in… hell, as long as she could remember, Cait had been her authentic self. Untainted by the venom she had injected into her veins for so long, unaffected by the liquid crutch she frequently relied on to bar her from facing herself. Even her vast insecurities hadn’t been able to touch her amid the bliss of her night with you. Because you had been authentic too, you weren’t trying to impress her, or pressure her, you didn’t pass judgement on her level of experience, didn’t berate her for her roughness, for engaging in your intimate act the only way she knew how, the only way it had ever happened when someone else initiated it, as it had always been for her. She couldn’t understand it herself, the way you’d been so patient with her, had communicated with her through everything, focused on her comfort, and her pleasure… It was so foreign to her, so unfamiliar in comparison to every other person she had been with. The act she had engaged in so many times before almost felt… new.

“Alright, what do ya say, luv? You still sore, or d’ya want to give it another go?” She shifted abruptly, a wicked grin spreading across her face as she turned to your side of the bed, green eyes glittering with ill intent, before surprise washed over them. Crimson brows rose high over the wide emerald orbs and she felt her nostrils flare unwittingly at the sight of your distinct absence.

Instantly, she wished she hadn’t turned to try and look at you. Wished that she could’ve stayed facing away just a little longer, where she could safely revel in the bliss of your night together without any consequences. She could have gazed out over the ruined hotel room, could have blushed uncharacteristically as she relived last night’s… rearrangement of all the furniture in the room. Could have kept imagining you there beside her, just as sore and worn out, but just as ready to see where this would go next. Now though…

Cait at least had the courtesy to glance around the space surrounding her before making any quick judgements, but the room was a fucking small one, and it took all of a moment to see that she was truly alone in it. Not only that, but everything belonging to you was gone too.

Now this. This shit I remember. This is all too familiar.

Normally she would have been relieved to wake up alone. It always meant she could have some peace, that she could wake up on her own terms, without harassment or expectation, without prying hands roughly dragging her from her dreams and slamming her back down into her nightmarish reality. But with you… shit was different. Even more painful than waking up next to someone she feared and despised was waking up without you by her side. The truth was like a flaming brand being pressed mercilessly to her chest, making plain to herself and everyone around her that she was hurt. That you had hurt her. She never thought the day would come.

Cait had come to the realization last night that you might be the only person who’s put her before yourself, who’s done something kind for her, who’s helped her without expecting anything in return. She came to the realization that she trusted you. More than anyone else in her life, more than Tommy, more than her own damn parents; she thought you were the only person who would never hurt her. The fact that she had been wrong made her want to spit. To curse, and fight the darkness that began to claw its way back into her heart. The same darkness you had helped expel in that vault.

She shook her head vigorously. Red hair catching in her damp eyelashes as she ground her teeth together until they ached. She wanted to scream. But dammit, she wasn’t going to let anyone know that this shit bothered her. Wasn't going to let them pity her at the sight of the hot brand you'd left on her heart when she realized you were gone.

No, she wouldn’t scream, wouldn’t let anyone hear the sounds of anguish spilling from her lips. The walls of the hotel room were paper thin, as the two of you had discovered last night after some… complaints had been issued. But Vadim had been a good sport about it. Cait wished she could look back on the memory fondly, but the glow of her euphoria was tainted red and black. An infected wound festering deep in the pit of her stomach, the hollow of her chest, the recesses of her mind.

Cait tore the blankets from her body, the thin material sticking to her sweat-dampened skin as she clambered off the mattress and began to rage around the room, snatching bits of clothing from their places on the floor and furniture. She roughly jerked up her trousers and buttoned up her corset, the action proving to be difficult as her chest expanded with her ragged inhalations. Through her fury-fogged mind, she tried to come up with a plan. Where would she go now that she didn't have you? Surely you wouldn't return to her after this. You'd gotten what you wanted, apparently; and if she was honest, she'd rather never see your face again after you'd done this to her. Made her feel this way. Made her feel filthy, and angry, and foolish, and used. Cait released a verbal sound of disgust as she threw together the last of her things. Shouldering her pack, she prepared to leave the room. Sorry Yefim, I can't be in here another fucking second. You'll have to put the furniture back yourself.

Cait slammed the hotel room door behind her, brows set low, heart pounding audibly against her chest as she loitered in front of the door, thinking about where to go next. What to do next. She couldn’t return to the combat zone, what would Tommy think? What would he say? She didn’t much care, but she didn’t want to find out either. Without Sole, what the hell was there out there for her? A flash of her potential future crossed her consciousness and she briefly saw herself crammed into some seedy corner of a bar somewhere, offering her muscle in return for some meager bits of tin, which she’d more than likely use to buy herself yet another drink at the next dive she found herself in. A vicious cycle, free of ambition, free of fulfillment, free of enjoyment… and yet, that future was more than she had ever expected for herself just a few short months ago. Back then, she would’ve given her left arm for a chance at that life, because at least she would be free. But now… you had changed everything. Helped her get clean, helped her drag herself out of the chasm her parents had forced her to dig herself into from the moment she was old enough to hold a shovel. She had wanted more for her life since meeting you. Had expected more. By your side, she had had more. And now you’d torn that away from her too, and though she wanted with every raging fiber of her being to be able to prove to you, to everyone, that she didn’t need anyone’s help to achieve that sort of life, she knew that, with you gone, reverting back to her old ways was damn near inevitable. Her jaw clenched at the thought, and she bit back a growl at the pain spreading in her chest.

Fuck this. I need a drink.

She let her hand fall from the doorknob to the now empty hotel room and made her way to the liquor counter at the Dugout Inn. Her expression drove away any potential for conversation as she sat at her stool, knocking back her full glass of whiskey. Even Vadim had stayed quiet, his usual bawdy personality remained muted as he poured her another glass and set it on the counter in front of her.

Even the bittersweet taste of her own reckless self-enablement couldn't expel the burning poison that had settled in her gut since her discovery that you had left her alone. And although she didn't have a single fucking clue what she was going to do next, that didn't seem to be what bothered her, as the whiskey began to cloud her mind and her judgement. No, it wasn't what she was going to do, it was what you were going to do. Where would you go without her? Alright, fine, you'd had your way with her, used her for your pleasure and then ran, but where to? And why do I care so damn much? A small voice asked her in the back of her mind. She decided not to grace its inquiry with a conscious answer.

Instead, she rose from her stool, slammed down a handful of caps on the counter, and half expected Vadim to ask where the room payment was, but he just smiled as he slid his hand over the pile of tin and drew it closer to him, to stash it away behind the bar. It didn't matter that Cait had no idea where she was going, she just had to leave this place. The alcohol that was meant to distract her, to numb the throbbing ache in her chest, only seemed to enhance her pain as her over exaggerated emotions surrounding the night the two of you had shared came pouring to the front of her mind. She was pissed. But not at you anymore. Was it herself? Why would she be pissed at herself? It's not like it was her fault you decided to fucking leave… Or...

Cait shook her head vigorously, pausing at the exit into Diamond City as she tried to straighten her crooked thoughts. Was it something I did? Is that why you left? Was I… not good enough? Too good? Too rough? Too unemotional? God, she sounded so whiney and insecure. Felt so insecure, so vulnerable, so guilty, so filthy.

Still trapped in her troubling thoughts, Cait attempted to finally leave the inn, letting the door slam shut behind her as she set off brusquely towards the gate leading out to the Commonwealth. She hardly noticed the body trailing her, splitting off from the crowd in the city center, and following her at an aggressive pace akin to her own. When the hand grasped at her shoulder, she almost turned around swinging, prepared to knock the teeth out of whoever decided it was a decent idea to fucking touch her right now. But her fist stilled in its clenched position beside her body, as her forest eyes widened in surprise at the person standing in front of her.

You?

You…

You!

Instead of swinging her prepared fist directly into your face, she brought up both arms, shoving them forward harshly against your shoulders, forcing you a few feet backwards, likely bruising you in the process.

"Fuck off, Sole." Was all she could manage before she turned away, back towards the gate. What the hell was she supposed to make of this?! You were gone. But now you were here? It doesn't matter now, because you could never take back the way you made her feel when she woke up alone in that dingy fucking hotel room.

"Hey!" She heard you call from behind, but she pressed on, even as your footsteps echoed behind her.

"Cait, wait! Just hold on a second. Where are you going?" Even when words failed you, it seemed the stubbornness she admired so much prevailed, as you gruffly wrenched her to the side, pulling her into the alcove behind the Publick Occurrences building.

"I can explain."

Cait wrenched her arm from your grasp, attempting to turn away, her emerald eyes blazing as they refused to acknowledge you.

"Cait, please. I swear, I was coming right back. I wasn't going to just--" you tried to explain, but she silenced you with her searing look as her head lashed towards you once more.

"I thought I told you to fuck off. Ya can't justify this shite to me, Sole. I know what the hell you were playin’ at. You fucking used me, and if that's all ye kept me round for, then you can just leave me alone. Ye got what ye wanted, didn't ya?” Your mouth hung open as you waited to get a word in, but the redhead continued, a menacingly somber expression creasing the lines of her face, “At least the assholes that used me before did it because I was their slave. You actually had me thinkin' you cared about me.” She said quietly, her gaze falling to the floor as the weight of her realization fell upon her.

“Well, you can forget I was ever even here. I'm done." Her eyes snapped back to yours before she went to turn away from you once again.

You were rendered momentarily speechless by her accusations. You wondered how the hell she couldn't know how you felt about her, especially after last night. You thought you'd made it pretty damn clear.

You didn't speak, you needed to use action now, as she started towards the gate, you reached out your hand, grasping firmly at her upper arm and wrenching her towards you. Into you. And even as she tried to pull away, to tear herself from your firm grip, you pulled her in for a kiss. It was sloppy, your teeth clacked together painfully and your mind began to demand why you'd done it at all, but as you pulled away from it quickly, you knew why. As Cait recovered from the surprise contact, you finally managed to get a few words in.

"I do care about you." You told her, your forceful hold on her arm giving way to a more gentle, but still unyielding, touch. "I wasn't trying to leave you. I had to speak to Arturo about that mod I wanted to get for your shotgun, remember? He said we had to do it before he opened, but you were still asleep. I-- I didn't want to wake you. I was coming right back, Cait. I would never leave you, never use you like that. I'm not like them, I could never-- I just, God, do you really think I could do that to you?" Cait's eyes met your own, the emerald fires in their depths wavering to smoldering coals as she saw the hurt shining in your gaze. Your upturned brows, the concern etched into your features, your soft touch on her arm being pulled away slowly; Cait could see the pain in your every movement, the pain at her accusation, and the pain at realizing what little she thought of herself.

Even just a moment ago, her answer would have been different, but at the desperation in you eyes, your will for her to see the truth behind your words, she couldn't bring herself to say what her mind wanted her to. What, after so many years of abuse and horror and mistrust, it had defaulted to saying in the event that anyone could actually tell her they cared for her. Her mind wanted to deny your confession the same way it denied any kind words that were directed towards her, in order to protect her heart from another brutal beating, but this time, it was her heart that seemed to prevail.

"No." She said softly, "I guess I didn't think ye could do that to me. Can't ya see? That's what made it hurt so damn much. I never thought you'd do that shite to me. And then, when I woke up an you were gone, I just… It just didn’t make any fuckin’ sense." She brought a hand up to wipe at her face, maybe to hide the lower lip that began to tremble at her words. 

Don’t fucking cry. Don’t you even think about it, ya damn baby. Cait tore her hand away, looking to you for some kind of response as she tried to harden her expression once more.

“I’m so sorry, Cait." You told her, taking one of her hands in your own to punctuate everything you had to say, "It’ll never happen again. I swear. I never want to hurt you ever again.”

The brawler felt a lightness in her chest at your words, words that she had never heard anyone say to her before, as you promised something so alien to her ears that she almost thought she had heard you wrong. She felt her heartbeat pick up as her eyes met yours again, the fire all but subdued as the weight of what you’d said sunk in. You promised to never hurt me... She didn’t know what to say, but she had to say something.

“Yeah? Well, it had better not happen again.” You grinned at that, releasing a breath of amusement and relief as Cait's own half-smile played at her lips. “Alright lassie/lad, care fer a drink? I think I might need another after all this.” She pulled her hand from your grasp and encircled your shoulders with her arm as she started off towards the Dugout Inn once again.

“Another?” You asked, brows raised, and the woman beside you just chuckled.

Curie:

     Goose prickles peppered uncomfortably over Curie’s exposed skin as a chill ran through her body. Being cold was a sensation that she was still quite unused to; however, even from her limited experience, she had to say, she wasn’t a fan. Curie let out a soft whine as she shifted beneath the thin blanket that snaked around her body, reaching out one arm to slide over the mattress in search of you, and your warmth.

“Mon Dieu?” She ventured softly, eyes still half closed as she peered around the hills of fabric upon the mattress. Sitting up, Curie rubbed at her sleep-filled eyes, still groggy from her hours of rest. Yet another human tendency that I must become more accustomed to. Her hands dropped to her lap as she turned her head to either side, eyebrows creasing together in confusion at the realization that she was alone.

“Sole?” She called, her uncertainty making her voice higher than usual. Perhaps you have gone to relieve yourself, as humans often tend to do after sleeping... Curie stretched her arms upwards before gathering the covers around her, effectively cocooning herself atop your bed, and sat waiting for you to return. Her eyes moved slowly as she took in the room around her. She had hardly gotten a good look last night, and before this, she had never been here before. At least, had never been in your room, but from what she could see in the dim light, it was pretty similar to the others. Curie thought that she never would return to Vault 81, considering the amount of time she had spent here, she figured she had had her fill of the place, but when the radiation storm hit, and the vault was the closest shelter you could think of, she couldn’t argue with the logic of the two of you waiting out the storm here. And she was glad she hadn’t tried. If she had insisted on taking shelter elsewhere, who knows what would have happened? You could have developed radiation sickness, or encountered some form of hostilities, or been stuck wandering and searching for shelter elsewhere all night long! But you hadn’t, no, the two of you had instead done other things all night long.

Curie's spine tingled as she noticed her heart skip a beat in her chest, and she felt her eyes crinkle up as she grinned, clutching the bed sheets tightly in her hands at the thought of the night you two had shared. The way your soft, sweet lips had pressed to hers, giving way to a cacophony of glorious, and thrillingly unfamiliar sensations. She recalled a gentleness, a sort of calm before the storm; dipping her toe into a pool of water, before wading in up to her knees, only to delve straight into the swirling, tumbling sea without a second glance back to the shore.

She had wanted, more than anything, to experiment in such a way with you, but she had been so unsure with how to proceed. So, when you had pressed your lips to hers gently in the night, and whispered that you wanted to do with her what she had been dreaming of since she first laid her human eyes upon you, Curie could barely contain her enthusiasm. All she wanted now was to be close to you once more, to discuss all that she had learned last night. About herself, and about you; but not because she wished to document it. No, this was not for research purposes, as she had once thought it would be, for there was nothing clinical about what the two of you had done together. At least, not in Curie’s eyes. To her, it was much, much more than a science. It was a feeling. It was… more, something she couldn't quite put her finger on, but something that made her stomach drop and her heart leap in her chest. Is it… could it be what they call… love?

It felt like hours that Curie was sitting there on the bed, awaiting your return. The time was comparable to the near 200 years she had spent alone on the other side of this very same vault. The synth found herself feeling conflicted about a number of things in this instance. She wasn't sure how she felt about Vault 81 anymore. She thought she couldn't stand the place before; however, last night she wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else in the world, but now, she couldn't wait to leave this place and go out to find you. She felt as though, if she stayed, she would be unable to leave once again, held here in this spot for another couple centuries; and maybe that wouldn't have been so bad if you were here with her, but… That was yet another item on her agenda of conflicting emotions to consider. Here Curie sat, completely alone, feeling as though she may be in love for the first and only time in her existence and you were just… gone. This was arguably the most important discovery she had ever made, and she wanted nothing more than for you to be here to help her make sense of this breakthrough of hers. Curie felt as though she had finally reached the level of inspiration required to achieve something great in the field of science, and it was all because of you. But she was still… confused? She couldn't imagine your reason for leaving, had she done something wrong? She had never done anything like this before, so it wouldn't be entirely surprising if she hadn't been particularly skilled in the acts of intimacy, but she certainly had felt good enough… had you not? Or perhaps this was customary for people to do after their first time being together in such a way? If that was the case, Curie would need an explanation as to why it had to be this way. Why you had to be gone when she felt she needed to be near you so urgently.

At that moment, Curie decided she needed to get out of this room, to look for you, yes, but also to prove to herself that she could, in fact, leave any time that she wished. To prove to herself that she wasn't going to be imprisoned here again. Curie sucked in a breath as she uncovered her bare body and exposed her skin to the chill of the recycled vault air. Quickly, she found her garments, some scattered on the floor, others wrapped in the mess of covers on the bed; and her theory regarding your disappearance was further confirmed as she found none of your own clothes in the places you had left them last night. She released a shaky breath, mumbling incoherently to herself as she often did in stressful situations, as she packed her bag in preparation to leave the vault. When she went to reach for the laser pistol that you had gifted her when she had become a synth, she noticed something that didn't quite add up. Your bag was still near the door… so perhaps, you hadn't left the vault after all? Curie's heart leaped in her chest, and in that next moment, she had dropped her travel bag, and was quickly moving towards the door that led out into the common area of the vault. As the doors slid to a close behind her, Curie's head whipped from side to side, aqua eyes passing over the monochrome hallways as she sought you out, searching for a 111 rather than an 81 among the sea of blue suits. Her eyes came to rest toward the elevator as she heard it grinding downwards, and she started towards it expectantly at the sound, before pausing abruptly when she heard her name being called from behind.

Her head swung back around to see you jogging towards her from the far end of the vault, a flush at your cheeks and a small smile decorating your sweet lips.

"And where are you running off to?” You said as you reached the synth, “You couldn't possibly leave me after--"

"Mon cheri! I was missing you this morning!" Curie's words echoed loudly off the steel walls surrounding the two of you as her excitement forced the words from her mouth at an unreasonable volume for your close proximity. Her relief at seeing you left her utterly unashamed at the blatant enthusiasm she had for your return. So much so, that she was even feeling bold enough to close the space between the two of you, her arms wrapping tightly around you as she buried her head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your comforting and familiar scent. You only just had time to return her embrace before she pulled away, her arms unraveling around your neck as she brought both hands up to caress your face. Her bright eyes seemed to glitter as they peered deeply into your own, her elated expression infectious as her thumbs stroked over your cheeks gently. Curie opened her mouth, as though she were about to speak, but when your gaze fell to rest upon her parted lips, she couldn't help but lean forward until she felt your mouth on her own. The kiss was sweet and soft, expelling Curie's chill as the contact warmed her from the inside out. As you pulled away slowly, still a little baffled by the sudden contact, you opened your eyes in time to notice her fluttering lashes and pink dusted cheekbones as a flustered grin spread onto her face.

"What timing you have, mon amour," she said, eyes still locked to yours, "I so urgently felt the need to speak to you, for I have just made zhe most brilliant discovery!"

Piper:

     Piper had never had a dream like that before. It had felt so real. It left her flustered and out of breath as she stirred groggily among the blankets in the loft of her Diamond City home. 

She could still feel the warmth of another's skin pressed against hers, taste the salt of sweat on her lips, feel the shuddering jolt of her pleasure shooting up her spine. It all felt so genuine, so memorable, it was as though… No. It couldn’t be… with you? 

As Piper dipped into her post-slumber conscious reality, she felt a distinct soreness in her body that nearly confirmed her sub-conscious assumption. But she had to know for sure. Piper imagined she would have to wrench open her eyes in order to verify her prediction, but as she took a deep breath in through her nose, and your familiar scent, accompanied by the distinct musty smell that happened to permeate the room after such activities occurred made itself known, she couldn’t have kept her eyes closed if she had tried. 

They flew open as an excited squeak escaped her, and she pulled the covers off from where they obstructed her needy hazel-green gaze. 

“Blue?” She tried, speaking quietly, but unable to keep the elation from her voice. “Pssst, hey, you awake yet?” Her hands gathered up the blankets beside her, drawing them away from where she assumed they were covering your sleeping form. But they just kept coming, she pulled and pulled, gathering more fabric between her fingers, spilling the material up over her own body until the mattress was revealed. The empty mattress. She cocked an eyebrow at the sight, a question she silently posed to the barren space where you were meant to be. Where her subconscious and conscious self both had practically guaranteed you would be. Now, the reporter was confused. 

Deciding that this was perhaps not the most ideal angle for exploration, she raised up into a sitting position, flattening her wild hair with one hand as the other kept the covers drawn up around her. 

“Blue?” She questioned a little louder. Maybe you’re downstairs… fixing breakfast? It wouldn’t surprise her. You had always been thoughtful in that way, always seeming to look out for everyone but yourself. Damn that was sexy. Piper couldn’t remember the last person she had felt this way about. Maybe there wasn’t one. No, there really was no one like her Blue; you were the closest friend she’d ever had, you trusted her, you always believed her, believed in her, you spoke to her like a person, like a friend, like someone you genuinely cared about; not like a nosy little reporter, or a pain in your ass, which is how pretty much everyone else in the world decided she was supposed to be talked to. The more she thought about it, the more it became clear to her. There wasn’t anyone like you. It was literally just you, and the fact that you and her had been together in such a way last night? Unbelievable. Incredible, dreamlike, fantastic, and perfect, yes, but completely unbelievable. Wasn’t she too overbearing? Too loud? Too stubborn, and fiery, and hot-headed? 

From the moment she met you, she thought you could only ever see her in a certain way, as the scrappy, over-emotional, noisy reporter who had gotten herself locked out of the damn gate to the damn place that she freaken lived in. You had helped her, sure, and that was amazing, but she thought you’d never want to see her again after the encounter. However, as it turns out, she had been wrong. Mercifully, she had been wrong. Piper had never imagined that you would take her up on her offer to interview you, but when Nat had pulled you through the door, a firm grip locked around your wrist as she dragged you forward, and you had smiled at her, and agreed enthusiastically to answer her questions, she couldn’t help but flash her own silly grin over at you, desperate to try and hold back the joyous little giggle that threatened to escape her lips. 

Even now, still seated upon the bed, Piper smiled to herself as she poured over her memories with you. Everything was so vivid when you were around. Black and white, white and black, the occasional grey and off-white, that was all the reporter ever seemed to see in her life, but with you… everything was vibrant. The world wasn’t quite so corrupt and unforgiving, the people around her weren’t so dismissive, so closed off, even when the weather seemed too cold to bear, the light in your eyes would warm her from the inside out, the sky was never a muted tone when she was with you, it was always a bright cacophony of warm and cool colors that melded together to form a perfect blue. And the brilliance, the dizzying, lucid radiance of the night the two of you had shared had put all other colors she could possibly imagine to shame. 

Her whole body suddenly felt so warm at the sentiment, and she couldn’t stand to be bundled in blankets any longer. She had been too busy wrapped up in her own memories to even register that you hadn’t responded to her calling for you, but she shrugged it off, assuming maybe that she simply hadn’t heard your response. Piper climbed out of bed, letting the covers fall unceremoniously onto the mattress as she quickly grabbed clean clothes from her dresser. She dressed rapidly, the voice in the back of her mind posing a question that her consciousness didn’t want to acknowledge. Instead, she thought about how funny it was that she felt so embarrassed about you potentially seeing her in the nude; since, surely, you had gotten quite the eyeful last night.

But it was dark then! She thought, nodding and chuckling to herself as she prepared to make her way downstairs. At the top, looking downward, Piper paused. Listening for any movement from below, she was almost tempted to call for you again. But something caused her to hesitate. It’s that voice again, the one that wanted to ask… No, I’m not going to think about that.

The reporter forced herself to take the first step, the wood creaking in protest below her feet as she descended to the first floor. The sound was almost like a warning to her, encouraging her to turn back the way she had come, cursing her for taking a step towards the potential disappointment that awaited her at the bottom of the stairs.

Piper tried to seem perky, but her enthusiasm was waning with every moment she spent away from you; and as she peered around the ground floor, she realized that that pesky little question she had tried to push away from her conscious self was finally answered. You were gone.

The woman’s heart sank. Her brain suddenly pelting her with question after question as to why you could have done this. When had you decided that she wasn’t what you wanted? Had she been so horrible that she completely reversed the feelings you told her you had for her? Had you never cared for her in the first place? Had you just lied to get her in bed with you? If that were the case, she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to see you again. No, she was sure it would just end in a shouting match and her potentially trying to tear your pretty eyes from your useless skull. So, she… couldn’t do that, no, people thought she was crazy enough as is. But she is a reporter… and this, what you did to her, the way you made her feel, the way you used her body and toyed with her emotions, that was a crime. She had written about crimes countless times, she could do it again... But would that even be enough to make her feel less... Angry? Hurt? Idiotic?

Argh, she was so furious! With herself, with the situation, with you, but now she wasn’t sure if what she thought was your reason for leaving was even the truth, maybe she was imagining it. What if you were out there somewhere feeling hurt like she was? Or, feeling unheard or, or neglected? She didn’t know why you would be feeling that way, but there’s always two sides to a story, and she had to think that you would have had an at least halfway decent explanation for your actions. 

What about last night though? Didn’t you feel the same way she felt? She didn’t see how you could feel any differently.  

She could only wonder at all of her rhetorical questions that were begging to be answered, but just not by her. Maybe if she found you and requested an interview again… Hmmm.

Piper didn’t know if it would work, didn’t know if she could even find you, if you would agree to an interview at all, but it was a plan, at least; and for her to know the truth of the situation, it was definitely worth a try. 

The reporter thought up her questions as she gathered together her things, trying to come up with inquiries that didn’t seem too one-sided, or confrontational, or passive aggressive; but other thoughts kept interrupting her. At some point, she knew Nat would be home from her friend’s house, she should probably wash the sheets on her mattress, she hadn’t eaten anything yet, there was no food in the house, she still needed to proofread her next story, ugh! This was not what she needed today! You had always been so supportive of her, of the paper, of her taking care of Nat, of… just her in general, her as a person, as a reporter, as a friend, and traveling companion. You had been supportive last night, had let her be vulnerable, and confident in herself, and free of any judgement. You’d made her feel good about herself in a way she never had before. And yet, you fucking left. God, it made her crazy, because she just didn’t understand. It didn’t add up, all of the evidence, the important details at the front of her mind all pointed to a different sort of conclusion. One that ended with you in the dang bed next to her the morning after you had made her feel like she could write an epic poem detailing every blissful feeling you had elicited in her. And she didn’t even write poetry!

By the time her bag was packed, Piper’s stomach was growling, she was tired again, tired and hungry and angry and sad, and every negative base emotion a person could feel. But she forced herself up the couple of steps it took to get to the exit door, reaching out her hand for the doorknob, she prepared to go out and find you. To find you, and then question you. 

In the next instance, the door was pushing her back down the stairs gruffly as it opened directly into her.  

“Ow! Hey!” She said as she was thrown backwards by the impact. Piper gruffly reached up her hands, trying to adjust her hat back onto her head properly as the body in front of her moved through the door. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Piper! Are you alright?” 

Piper paused with her hands still over her head, and looked up quickly at the sound of your voice. At first, she thought it had been Nat who decided to beat her with her own door, but, as you stood in the doorway, an apologetic smile on your face, and a shopping bag in your hand, she couldn’t deny the fact that it really was you who had just barged into her. 

You didn’t leave. You weren’t gone. She thought giddily, impulsively throwing her arms around your shoulders in her relief. For just a moment, her questions and anger could wait.

“Aw, Piper, I wasn’t gone that long. But I missed you too.” you giggled at her, drawing your own encumbered arms around her to reciprocate to the best of your abilities, “And I’m glad you forgive me for the concussion I just gave you.” 

“Where were you?” Piper asked, almost aggressively as she pulled away, still standing close enough to keep you trapped between her and the door. 

“I just had to grab some supplies from the mark--”

“And you couldn’t wait until I woke up? Do you know the kind of state you had me in this morning?! Geeze, Blue, you really are clueless sometimes, huh?”

“No! I’m sorry I was gone, but I… Here, I brought home some breakfast. I wanted to surprise you.”

You held up the bag in your hand, showcasing the clear outline of soup containers and the distinct mark of Takahashi. 

“O--oh, well, that was… um, that was really nice of you, Blue. I…”

You just smiled at her and her apologetic expression, beginning your descent past Piper and down the couple of stairs towards the couch where the two of you could enjoy your breakfast.  

“It’s okay Piper. I’m sorry too.” You said looking back at her as you placed the bag down on the coffee table. And your companion just grinned.

#fallout #fallout companions #fallout companions reacts #fallout 4 #fallout 4 companions #fallout 4 companions reacts #fallout 4 companions react #fallout 4 companions reactions #fo4 reacts #fo4 #fallout cait #cait fo4 #cait #fallout curie #curie fo4 #curie #fallout piper #piper fo4 #piper wright #sole survivor #sole

[professional-benaddict]

Hello.. um I'm not sure if you're still taking prompts and if you'll even write this one if it's way out of your comfort zone.. but could you do one where Tony and Stephen are doctors at a hospital and Peter goes into the ER with bad stomach pains and it turns out to be constipation or something.. if you're not comfortable writing it I understand

hii darling!! here it finally is!! tbh this was a bit tricky to write but i hope you like it :3 💗💗

Doctor Tony, +18 Peter, Doctor Stephen, ER visits, examinations, constipation, pain, miscommunications, relationship problems, making up, fluff

It had started earlier that same week. A sharp stabby pain in his lower abdomen, which left Peter breathless and a little dizzy. However, the boy’s work moral did not allow him to slow down. After all, it’s just pain, right? Everyone gets tummy aches.

Expect the pains continued, and only became more and more frequent as the week went on. Peter couldn’t think of any other symptoms or any possible explanations for his pain. But, on Thursday night, when Peter was unable to fall asleep due to his pains, he called an Uber with a shaky voice.

The Uber driver seemed concerned, but luckily they didn’t bother Peter with too many questions, and just dutifully drove him to the ER. The boy thanked the driver for the ride, and for the well wishes. He had to walk into the ER nearly doubled over. A nurse caught onto Peter’s signs of distress fairly quickly at the reception, and she directed him inside. It still took half an hour before a doctor called Peter’s name in the waiting room.

At first, Peter was relieved that it was finally his turn. The pain was making him breathy and sweaty from straining. Even though he was in the ER, and everyone was either in pain or distress, he still felt too awkward and shy to truly show how much pain he was in. Holding it in only made it worse. And so did seeing Stephen Strange.

“Peter? As in, Tony’s boyfriend Peter?” Stephen asked, looking slightly dumbfounded. “I remember seeing you here now and then. I’m Stephen Strange.”

“Hi…” That was all Peter could muster to say back. He did remember the doctor somewhat. Tony has mentioned him a few times at home, but Peter couldn’t gather his thoughts to say that.

“Okay, you don’t sound too good. Can you stand up? I’ll take a look at you. Does Tony know you’re here?”

“No, no, don’t tell ’im, please…” Peter whimpered, gasping in pain as Stephen helped him up.

“All right, all right. Come on, I’ll help you. It’s just down this hall.”

———

Twenty minutes later, Strange had ordered some pain relief for Peter. In return, Peter let a nurse take some blood for sampling, and peed in a cup as well. Peter’s cheeks burned hot at that last part, but he knew this was the better alternative. He’d rather be embarrassed in front of Strange, than his own doctor boyfriend, Tony.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to get Tony? He’s still here.” Strange asked, and gently guided Peter onto his back to examine his abdomen.

“N-no, don’…”

Peter’s breath hitched sharply at the pain bursting in his stomach as the doctor moved his knees back to lay straight. The young man had to take a few deep breaths to settle before he was ready to be examined.

“Try to relax as much as you can.” Strange said, bringing his gloved hands to Peter’s stomach.

Once Peter had gotten a bed in the ER, he had taken his jeans off to relieve the extra pressure on his stomach, then hidden most of his body under the blanket on the bed. The doctor had good access to his patient’s abdomen, and he pressed his fingers down as much as he could before Peter protested.

“Ah-aH!”

“Sorry, sorry. Breathe for me, you’re okay. Any pain here?”

Peter shook his head. Strange’s hands were just below his ribcage, although Peter could only feel them and not see them. Closing his eyes and focusing on his breathing was all Peter could muster.

“Ah-ow-Jesus…”

“Sorry, I’m done now. You did good, Peter.”

Peter could hear the doctor snapping off his gloves, so he opened his eyes to look.

“So, what’s wrong with me?” Peter asked, his voice tired. Strange looked up from the chart in his hands.

“Based on what you told me earlier about when and how your symptoms started, I think you’re just constipated.”

“Just- just constipated? But, it hurts like hell!”

“Yeah, constipation can hurt a lot. I’m ordering some oral laxatives for you that you can take now and then head home. You can have some painkillers too, to get through the worst of it.”

“So… none of those enemas?”

“No, laxatives can do the trick too. Why? Have you been constipated before?”

“Well…” Peter’s cheeks burn even hotter now than earlier when he had to pee in that cup.

“Peter? It’s best to tell the truth. Trust me, I’ve heard it all and way worse.”

It still took Peter a few moments before he could speak up.

“This has happened before… And Tony- he gave me an enema.” Peter said, his cheeks and ears flaming hot at the revelation. “I- I hated it…”

“I said he was full of shit, just like he is now.”

Peter snapped his head up at that voice and cringed back when he saw his boyfriend, Tony, holding back the curtain around Peter’s bed.

“I-I told you not to tell him!” Peter yelped at Stephen, his voice high-pitched with tears and panic.

“I didn’t-”

“The nurses talk a lot and word travels fast here.” Tony explained before pulling the curtain back again, then came over to Peter. “Why didn’t you call me, babe? I could have helped you quicker.”

“Not with those- those god awful enemas you’re not!” Peter snapped back, curling up on himself, away from Tony.

Stephen and Tony shared a look, and Stephen shrugged his shoulders before leaving the prescription for the laxatives on the little bedside table.

“You can pick them up at the hospital pharmacy. Just follow the signs and you’ll find it. Feel better, Peter.” Stephen said kindly, then exited quietly.

Even when they were left alone, Peter did not face Tony and continued to cry and pout.

“Hey… You okay?”

“No.” Peter sniffled. “I’m full of shit, like you said.” He added, daggers in his tone. Tony laughed lightly and moved to rub at Peter’s shoulder.

“It’s just a joke. But, I’m sorry if it hurt you. I didn’t mean that. Hmm? Baby? Can we go to the pharmacy and then head home? I’ll make you tea and rub your tummy.”

Despite his upset, hearing Tony saying such caring and sweet things with that tone of voice made Peter feel content and looked after. He had been avoiding his boyfriend ever since the pain started, but now he realised how much he missed this. Being looked after and taken care of. Peter sniffled again and nodded slowly.

“There you go. I got you, baby, don’t worry.”

“Promise me, no more enemas.”

“Promise, babe. I promise.”

#my prompts #my fics #starker #ironspider #tony stark x peter parker #tony stark/peter parker #peter parker x tony stark #peter parker #tony stark #stephen strange #ask

[binunus]

injury | cha eunwoo

a/n ~im a simp for eunwoo, you’re a simp for eunwoo, let’s be simps for eunwoo~

LMFAO anyway this is the first week w/o true beauty and yes as much as suho’s character was a bit toxic, he was end game and that’s it !! also eunwoo bb worked so hard :’) no one can deny eunwoo’s superb acting skills alright !! and if they do they boutta catch these hands. so here’s a cute little something of basketball player!eunwoo bc im in love with him

pls watch handsome tigers or this tik tok if you wanna indulge in basketball player!eunwoo bc everyone should at least once in their life

→ pairing: basketball player!eunwoo x athletic trainer!reader

→ genre: fluff, lil angst

→ word count: 5.1k ________________________________________________

Your POV

One thing you didn’t expect when you applied to be a student athletic trainer for the university basketball team was to end up dating one of their star players, but here you were: holding hands with Cha Eunwoo–the starting shooting guard–as you two walked into the basketball court. 

He gave you a smile and a kiss to the cheek before going off to join his teammates in stretching. You let out a content sigh, watching as he happily greeted the other basketball players, and then went over to the other student trainers. 

Usually, you wouldn’t have much to do since the boys were just practicing, but there was someone new joining today, so you and the other trainers had to give her a little rundown on what she signed up for. 

“-mostly we just tape up and ice the guys if they have an injury or a muscle strain, but yeah that should be about it. Simple, right?”

The new girl nodded, eyes trained on the court as the team just started their warmups. “Who’s that? Number 97 is hot–”

“And dating y/n.” One of the male trainers, and yours and Eunwoo’s close friend, Rocky said, narrowing his eyes at the new girl as he rested his elbow on your shoulder. “So don’t even think of any ideas to–”

“Rocky,” You scolded hitting his stomach, “Don’t be rude.”

The girl gave you a once over, an uncomfortable smile on your face, as her eyes met yours. “Ah...well, you must have an amazing personality, y/n!”

You were taken aback, did she just call you ugly? You forced a laugh, trying your best not to quip back at her. Rocky, though, had no restraints, “Clearly a better one than yours.”

Before the new girl could respond, the head trainer called her over, a huge sigh of relief coming from you. Rocky clicked his tongue as he stared at her back, “She’s not going to last long with us. I don’t get why you’re so timid when others are clearly insulting you, y/n.”

You rolled your eyes at him. When it came to your friends, it was definitely Rocky and Myungjun who were not afraid to be bold about what they were thinking. “Eunwoo and I have been dating for more than a year now, you don’t think I’m used to people always saying that my boyfriend is out of my league? I just try to ignore it now Rocky c’mon, I know how Eunwoo feels about me and that’s enough.” 

“Damn hyung’s handsome face.” The younger male shook his head. You chuckled, the two of you taking a seat on the bench and conversing as the basketball practice went on. During water breaks, Eunwoo would come over to where you and Rocky were sitting, chatting it up with you two in brief increments before resuming practice. He would always pucker his lips up for a peck before leaving, which you would definitely grant and Rocky would pretend to be disgusted.

By the end of their practice, you managed to successfully avoid the new girl, waiting outside the locker room like you always do after bidding Rocky goodbye. Eunwoo smiled once he saw you, immediately draping his arm around your shoulders as he kissed your temple in greeting. “Baby, I’m hungry.”

“Mmm, you want to eat out or order in?” You asked looking up at him.

“Order in, I’m tired.” He said, the two of you already making your way to his car.

--

As soon as you two arrived back at Eunwoo’s apartment, he immediately plopped down on the couch. You chuckled, lightly smacking his butt, “Baby, go take a shower first, you’re sweaty.”

“Wanna take one with me?” He asked blinking his big beautiful eyes at you. You grinned, the offer was tempting, but you already took a shower earlier today and you wanted to order this food as soon as possible. Eunwoo pouted as you shook your head in rejection, getting up to go the bathroom looking like a kicked puppy. 

You turned on the television to whatever variety show was on at the moment, barely paying attention as you were looking through the food delivery app on your phone. You turned your head as Bin walked out of his bedroom, no doubt having just woken up from a nap.

“Oh? You guys are back.” He said sleepily, waving to you.

“Binnie, we’re ordering for dinner, do you want something?” You asked offering him your phone, a laugh leaving you at the boost of energy he received from the word ‘dinner’

“You know a way to man’s heart, y/n.” Bin said jokingly as he started looking through the menu. “By the way, Rocky texted me about that new trainer–rude ass bitch.”

“God you guys spread gossip faster than girls.” You said amused, “I told him earlier, I’m used to people saying stuff like that. It’s whatever.”

“I guess, but you know how sad Eunwoo will be if he finds out this is still going on?” Bin said handing you your phone back. “We’ve been telling you this since the beginning, don’t let other people’s opinions get to you. You’re attractive, y/n! And to Eunwoo, you’re the most beautiful person in the world.”

You smiled, touched by his words of comfort, “Thanks Binnie, ah where would me and Eunwoo be without all of your guys’ support?”

“Nowhere because he wouldn’t have had the balls to confess to you if it wasn’t for us.” He scoffed heading to the bathroom.

“Change your mind, baby?”

“You better stay in the shower! I don’t wanna see your dick while I’m peeing.”

You laughed at their interaction, your attention shifting to the television as you patiently waited for your food and company. Within 30 minutes, the three of you were happily stuffing yourselves full with the takeout, talking up a storm while watching tv. You leaned back against the couch when you felt your stomach capacity maxed out, hands perched on your belly as you groaned, “I can’t eat anymore.”

They looked at you in amusement, Bin laughing while Eunwoo rested his hand on your knee, a fond smile on his face as he told you he’ll finish up your leftovers. The two boys then got engrossed in their own conversation of sorts, you listening quietly to the side as the food coma started to kick in. Somewhere in the midst of their conversation, you settled behind Eunwoo, legs draped next to his body as you snaked your arms around his waist, resting your head on his back. He hummed, still chewing on his food as he took one of your hands and squeezed it. 

You started to zone out, their dialogue beginning to sound like a bunch of nonsensical noise. Bin looked over to where you were laying, “I think y/n’s about to knock out.” 

Your boyfriend turned his body to get a glimpse of you, grinning as you whined from the shift in movement. He changed your positions so that you were leaning next to his side, his arm around your waist as you rested your head on his shoulder. “Food coma?”

You nodded, snuggling into his side to get comfortable. Bin watched the two of you with a smile, scooping up the last of his food before clapping his hands, “Well! you guys being all cuddly is making me miss my bub...so see you lovebirds tomorrow!”

You snort, eyes still closed as you respond to him, “Aren’t they hanging out with Eunbi right now? I saw it earlier on their Instagram story.”

He shrugs, gathering up the trash, “I’m going to crash their hangout because I want to cuddle too. Have fun you two, good night sweet dreams, use protection...or not, be a little spicy!”

Eunwoo rolls his eyes as he picks up a throw pillow and chucks it at his roommate, “Alright bye Binnie.”

It takes all but five minutes before Bin leaves the apartment. The moment you two were alone, Eunwoo immediately tightened his hold, practically pulling you onto his lap as he laid you both down on the couch, spooning you from behind. You let out a smile, hands on top of his as he kissed your shoulder, “You ran a lot today baby, are your legs okay?”

He cutely nods his head, his chin lightly digging into your skin, “My calves are a bit tight, but I’ll probably just roll them out at the gym tomorrow.”

You hummed, rubbing his arm, “Do you want me to massage your legs?”

“It’s okay baby, we’re both tired. I’ll just do it tomorrow.” He said, not wanting to move from the couch any time soon. You chuckled, turning around so that you faced him, your eyes finally blinking open, “If you wait until tomorrow, your calves are gonna be stiff and sore, you might get a muscle cramp. C’mon baby.”

He kissed your nose in response, “You were literally about to knock out from a food coma five minutes ago.”

“The feeling comes and goes,” You grinned, moving to stand up from the couch. Eunwoo pouted at your absence, but followed your movement anyway, taking your hand as you led him to his bedroom. He obediently laid face down on his bed, waiting as you searched his room for the roller stick. “Can we cuddle after?”

“Yes,” You laughed, giving him a kiss before you sat down next to his legs. “Baby, this is your perk for dating an athletic trainer. I need to make sure you’re in tip top shape.”

“But rolling calves always hurt.” Eunwoo whined, already wincing as you started to apply pressure under the back of his knee. You tried to be gentle at first before really going in with stretching his calf muscles, “that’s because your calves are the tensest muscles in the body, they’re put under a lot of strain and pressure from walking and running so it hurts when you try to relax them.”

“I love when you talk medical to me,” He sighs dreamily. You roll your eyes, pressing down hard on the meat of his calves. You felt bad when Eunwoo started letting out complaints of pain, trying to talk him through it and distract him from the pressure on his legs. “Ow ow baby! It hurts!”

“I know I know, almost done baby, I promise.” You said gently, rolling the stick thoroughly over both calves a couple more times, trying to get rid of all the deep knots that accumulated in his muscles. After deciding that he’s suffered through enough with the stick, you put it to the side and began kneading the heels of your palms through his skin, stimulating his muscles gently after the harsh rolling session. Your hands slowly moved north until they landed on his shoulders, briefly massaging the knots out in his neck as well. You ended up laying next to him, cooing cutely as you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “all done.”

Your boyfriend smiled, pulling you into his chest as he kissed your forehead, “thank you baby.”

“You better not ask any of the other trainers to do this for you,” You pouted, a little bubble of jealousy coming up from the earlier situation at the gym. “Except Rocky, maybe.”

Eunwoo scoffed, running his hands through your hair as he met your eyes, “I would much rather have you give me a massage than Rocky. And hey, you better not offer this treatment to the other guys too or I’ll get jealous. You’re my trainer.” 

“Deal.” You grinned hugging him tightly, all feelings of jealousy quenched.

--

Game days always had a specific schedule to be followed. In the morning, you two were free to do whatever you pleased, but it always ended up with the two of you procrastinating in bed until 11 am. Eunwoo always ate a high-protein high-calorie meal whenever he had games and today’s lunch was no different. After eating, the two of you began to get ready, which included showering and getting dressed.

Today you wore a simple set of jeans a black crop top, finishing your look with the university sports quarter zip, which you were required to wear for every game. After tying your hair up, you turned to your boyfriend who was just starting to dress himself. You took a seat on his bed, marveling at how attractive he looked as he slipped on his jersey and shorts. “I’ll never get over seeing you in your uniform, baby.”

He grinned, placing his arms on either side of your body as he hovered over you, leaning down for a kiss. You expected it to be short and sweet, but Eunwoo had different ideas, lips still working against yours as your back gave in, laying down on the bed. You whined as one of his hands took place on your waist, rubbing at the exposed skin, “Mm, baby, we have to leave soon.”

“I know,” he said moving his lips down your jaw, “I just wanted to kiss you.”

“You can kiss me all you want after your game.” You lightly chuckled, wrapping your arms around his torso in a hug. He nodded, face buried in your neck as he dug his hands under your body, hugging you tightly. You hummed, caressing his hair soothingly, “Are you nervous?”

“A little, I’m always nervous before a game, baby.” Eunwoo said pressing a kiss to your collarbone, “You’ll cheer me on, right?”

“Always,” You said patting his back, “C’mon, we should start heading out soon.”

He nodded, reluctantly getting off of you and pulling your body up with him. You offered your boyfriend a cheerful smile, reaching up to fix the bangs out of his eyes before cupping his cheeks, shaking his face in between your hands, “You’re going to do amazing today baby, as always.”

Eunwoo smiled at your action, pecking your lips again before the two of you did a last-minute search around his room for your belongings. After getting all that you needed, the two of you bid Bin goodbye, telling the swimmer that you’ll see him at the court later. You took your place in the driver’s seat, wanting Eunwoo to just relax for the short drive to the gymnasium. You dropped him off at the entrance first before going to find parking, having Eunwoo arrive early was more important than your arrival anyway. 

As soon as you walked into the court, the players were already doing their stretches, your boyfriend in the midst of them all. You glanced at him briefly before greeting the other trainers, the group of you having a quick pre-game discussion of roles before being dismissed to do your own things. 

You actively try to avoid the new girl as the time draws closer to the start of the game, not wanting your energy to get dampered. By now, the other team has already arrived and the stands were slowly starting to fill up. You were seated calmly behind the bench, trying to pass the time on your phone, before your boyfriend took the space next to you, hand automatically going on top of your knee. “You ready?”

“As much as I can be,” He grinned rubbing your kneecap, “Wanna come with me to fill up my water bottle?”

You nod, you weren’t doing anything anyway. The male immediately drapes his arm over your shoulders as the two of you walk to the water station, the two of you already getting excited about your dinner plans after the game. The rest of your friends would be joining you, no doubt, as you already spotted them near the front of the student seating. 

You were in such a good mood, anticipating the start of what was going to be a good game. Your university was going against their rivals, so expectations for both teams were high. You and Eunwoo were leisurely walking back to the court, he still had a couple more minutes before he needed to join his team. 

“Hey, you’re Eunwoo, right? I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Hana, the new student trainer. You’re really good at playing!” The girl said walking up to the two of you. You immediately felt your body stiffen at her appearance, trying not to let it show to your boyfriend. He gives the new girl a polite smile, “Ah thank you.”

“If you need anything, I’ll be more than happy to help you.” She said batting her eyelashes sweetly at him. You pursed your lips tightly, jealousy easily building up inside of you. Eunwoo only laughed awkwardly, “I appreciate it, but y/n’s got everything handled when it comes to me, right baby?”

You nod, trying your hardest not to punch Hana in the face at her blatant attempt to flirt with your boyfriend right in front of you. Eunwoo noticed your discomfort immediately, removing his hand from where it was interlocked with yours before slipping it around your waist, squeezing the skin gently. “Well, it was nice meeting you Hana, but I should go back to the team...I’ll look at you when I need good luck, baby, hm?”

You manage to crack a smile, a little laugh leaving you when he puckered his lips out for a kiss. You step on your tiptoes, granting his wish quickly, before pushing him out towards the court. You turn towards Hana and give her a forced smile before searching for Rocky. 

You weren’t surprised to find him in the bleachers, sitting and chatting amongst your group of friends. You go and join them with a light feeling in your chest, greeting the other four of them with hugs.

“How are you doing y/n? You excited?” Jinjin asked as you take a seat next to him.

“Yeah! I mean the guys have a really good chance of winning this one, it’s gonna be a good game.” You smiled clasping your hands together. Rocky only scoffed as he pointed at you, “Bitch, I saw Hana approaching you and Eunwoo hyung, spill.”

You throw the younger male a joking glare, “Nothing gets past you, huh?”

Bin immediately cringed at her name, hand palming his forehead, “Oh God, what did she do?”

You shrugged passively, “She just introduced herself to him and said that if he needed anything, she’ll gladly help him or whatever.”

The boys groaned in response, Sanha reaching over Jinjin to tap your leg, “And? What did hyung say?”

“He let her down gently and said that he goes to me if he needs anything–”

“As he should!” Myungjun said indignantly, crossing his arms in annoyance. Jinjin only nodded, “Good boy.”

“If she even tries to homewreck y/n, just say the word and I’ll scream at her!” Myungjun said in all seriousness. You laugh at his claim, “thanks guys, but I think Eunwoo made it pretty obvious to her so it’s fine.”

The youngest sighed giving you a pout, “You’re too nice, y/n.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Rocky said agreeing with Sanha, “If I was you and someone was flirting with my partner, I’d clock them right in the face.”

“Hey, I wanted to–”

“You should have,” Bin sighed, “What a shame, maybe next time.”

“I usually don’t advocate for violence, but I’d turn a blind eye for this, y/n.” Jinjin agreed. You rolled your eyes at them, “You know, as much as I love to sit here and get lectured, Rocky and I have to go down to the trainer section.”

“We’ll see you guys later!” Rocky said as the two of you stand to go to the bench, taking your seats with the other trainers–and as far away from Hana as you could. 

The game was already intense from the tip-off, both sides in a tight match to get a starting lead. The cheers from the stands were just as heightened, giving energy to both sides during baskets or free throws. Their plays started to get rougher from the beginning of the second half, more and more fouls getting called on both teams. 

You and the trainers were busy as well, assessing each player during substitutions and icing whenever they came back to the bench. By the third quarter, your team established a good six-point lead, the energy of your section high from Eunwoo’s back-to-back 3 pointers. 

You could distinctly hear Myungjun’s scream as he shouted Eunwoo’s name, a laugh coming from the bench at his volume. You hid your face in Rocky’s back, second hand embarrassment coming from the two of you at your friends’ loud cheering tactics.

You even spotted Eunwoo letting out a smile as both sides prepared for a free throw, your boyfriend giving a thumbs up to the guys in acknowledgement. His gaze then shifted onto you, your cheeks flushing as he shot you a heart-fluttering wink, a smile gluing itself onto your face.

You watched with pride as his concentration zeroed back in on the game, his team playing impeccable defense as they raced to your side of the court. After a couple back and forth relays, your team was on offense, trying to calm down the tensions as they strategized their next play.

It all happened so fast. The opponents stole the ball from your point guard, commencing a fast break. Eunwoo sped across court, the defense of your team depending on him and another player. 

“Eunwoo–screen!”

He followed the instructions of his teammate well, placing his body in front of the opponent as he tried to defend your team’s basket. Unfortunately, the momentum of the other player was too much, both players roughly colliding and falling on the court. 

You gasped in horror, immediately standing up from your seat as the referee blew the whistle to stop the play. Your teeth dug into your lower lip in worry as Eunwoo remained on the floor, clutching his waist in pain as some players and the referees surrounded him. The head trainer jogged onto the court, kneeling in front of Eunwoo to ask if he was okay. 

The gymnasium was quiet, looking on to the scene that was unfolding in the center of the floor. Slowly, the trainer helped Eunwoo stand up, your boyfriend leaning his weight on the male as he limped off to the side, the coach substituting in the other shooting guard in place of Eunwoo. Both sides started clapping in respect, as they always do when someone gets injured during a play. 

The head trainer looked to the group of you, “someone help me with Eunwoo.”

Before you could even respond, Hana beat you to the chase raising her hand, “I can help.”

“y/n,” Eunwoo said, eyes only on you. The head trainer looks between you and Hana, sighing, “Decide amongst yourselves, and fast.”

“It’ll give me more experience-”

“No, I want y/n.” Eunwoo said seriously, not even giving her a chance. The head trainer ushers you over, your feet finally taking a step with the help of Rocky pushing you forward. You accidentally shove Hana out of your way as you approach Eunwoo and the trainer, taking some of your boyfriend’s weight as the three of you walk to the locker room.

Once in the locker room, the head trainer immediately started assessing Eunwoo’s waist, trying to determine whether he needed to be sent to the hospital for a scan. Quickly and quietly, you follow the trainer’s lead, offering your assistance when he needed it. All the while, you hold Eunwoo’s hand as your boyfriend was trying not to think of the pain in his lower back.

“Do you think you can walk, Eunwoo?”

“I don’t know, there’s a sharp pain in my waist if I try to turn my body.” Eunwoo said attempting to rotate his upper half.

“No no no, don’t move. Let’s get you to the hospital to make sure there isn’t anything broken.” He sighed taking out his phone to call the medical team, “y/n, I’m sure you’ll be accompanying your boyfriend. Text me Eunwoo’s updates, okay?”

You nodded, briefly leaving Eunwoo’s side to gather both his and your things. Within the next five minutes, a group of EMTs entered the locker room, lifting Eunwoo onto a stretcher and rolling him to an ambulance, you following closely behind. 

You didn’t say much on the way too the hospital, your mind too preoccupied with worry and thinking about the worst-possible scenario for your boyfriend. Even when you arrived at the hospital, Eunwoo was immediately whisked away to get some scans and X-rays done, you being escorted to the waiting room in the meantime. It seemed like forever until a nurse approached you, leading you to the room where Eunwoo was being held. 

You let out a sigh upon seeing him, almost being moved to tears as he offered you a smile, “You’re smiling? Cha Eunwoo, I oughta–”

“Baby, I’m okay.” He chuckled lightly, hand outstretched to meet yours. You frowned, putting both of your bags down to the side as you took a seat by his bedside, “Are you okay? What did the doctor say? I need to update the trainer and your coach too.”

“Nothing’s broken,” He said first, attempting to ease some of your anxiety. “The doctor said I had a nasty fall that bruised my coccyx so there’s a lot of inflammation to the area. They gave me some pain medication so I don’t really feel anything right now, but I should be discharged tomorrow. And then he gave me a referral to a chiropractor who I’ll see in about two days. But baby, I’m okay, promise.”

“You can’t play though,” You said softly, hands fiddling with his fingers, “I feel like I’m more upset than you.”

“I played hard today so I don’t regret anything.” He said simply, “it sucks that I couldn’t finish the game, but injuries are a part of being an athlete, you know that baby. Besides, from what the doctor said, I shouldn’t be out for too long, maybe just a game or two. I told him I’m in especially good hands because you’re gonna take care of me.”

You said nothing, still not fully believing that he’s taking this situation so well. “Baby...give me a smile, hm? I’ll feel much better if I see you smiling.”

Mustering up the brightest smile that you could, you finally looked up at his face. His features only softened, knowing that you were trying your best to stay strong for him, “Are you still worried?”

“Baby, you’re in the hospital.” You said as if stating the obvious, “How could I not be worried?” 

“You’re so cute being all worried about me,” He teased squeezing your hand. You scoffed, finally easing up a little at his flirting. “You laughed! I heard you laugh just now!”

“You’re annoying,” You said as you took out your phone to give the head trainer updates on Eunwoo’s condition. After you pressed send, you immediately received a call from Sanha, “Hello?”

“Is Eunwoo hyung okay?!” “Is he dying?!” “Eunwoo no he’s too young to die!”

You flinched at their loud volume, turning your phone on speaker so that you and Eunwoo could both respond to their chatter. “Guys, he’s not dying.”

“I’m okay,” He laughed taking your phone. “Hold on, did we win?”

“Are you fucking serious? That’s what you wanna know?!” Myungjun scolded into the phone. You chuckled, the guys talking over each other again as they announced they were on the way to the hospital. “They never said if we won or not.”

“I guess you’ll find out when they arrive.” You said, patting his cheek as you stood, removing your sweater. “Do you want some water, baby? I could go get some.”

He shook his head, puckering up his lips for something else. “Please? I’m injured.”

“You’re going to use this to your advantage, aren’t you?” You asked leaning down to grant him a quick kiss. “Maybe.”

After handing Eunwoo his phone, you went to the bathroom for a little bit before coming back and taking a seat on the hospital bed that he so highly encouraged. “If we get scolded by the nurse, I’m blaming it on you.”

“It’s not like you’re laying in bed with me, baby. We’ll be fine.” He said putting his hand on your thigh. He rubbed your cloth of your jeans gently, thinking to himself as you responded to messages on your phone. “Baby, you know I love you, right?”

You made a sound of confusion, looking up from your phone and meeting his eyes, “Hm? Of course I do. I love you too. Why, all of a sudden?”

“Just, when Hana was talking to us earlier and when she volunteered to try and help, I could see that you were uncomfortable.” Eunwoo said gently, “It annoyed me too, to be honest. Like what else did I need to do to show that I’m dating you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” You said stroking his hair, “I’m used to people thinking that they can steal you away just because they’re prettier than me or more handsome than me or whatever. It doesn’t bother me that much anymore, baby––and it shouldn’t bother you too.”

“That’s so fucked up, y/n, how can that not bother me?” He frowned. “You are the most attractive person in my eyes, baby. If anyone pulls this shit again, I swear I won’t let it slide.”

“I know,” You said quietly, kissing his cheek. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” Eunwoo said, “I don’t want you to ever forget that y/n, you’re mine and no one can do anything to change that.”

“Mmm, I’m lucky that you and the guys always defend me, aren’t I?” You lightly smiled, “God, you have no idea how many times Rocky cursed Hana out in the past week.”

“As he should,” Eunwoo nodded kissing the back of your hand, “see, this is why they’re my friends.”

“Speaking of our friends.” You said looking at the door, “I can hear them coming.”

Your boyfriend chuckled, both of your attentions at the door, which shortly was opened by five boisterous guys. The sound in the hospital room suddenly increasing tenfold at their appearance, all five of them crowding and fussing around the bed. You giggled, sharing a look with Eunwoo as the guys started talking all at once. He grinned, listening until the end of their rambles. Although he was injured, Eunwoo noticed that he couldn’t be feeling any happier. He had no doubt that he would have a speedy recovery, especially if you and his best friends were right by his side. _______________________________________

2-12-21

#how have i not written anything for eunwoo yet besides this #AHH IM IN LVOE WITH HIM #basketball player!eunwoo is SO attractive you have no idea #like i beg you PLEASE watch handsome tigers #eunwoo #basketball player!eunwoo #cha eunwoo #lee dongmin #dongmin #astro #astro eunwoo #astro scenarios #astro fic #astro au #astro fluff #eunwoo scenarios #eunwoo fluff #eunwoo au #dongmin scenarios #dongmin fluff #dongmin au