#2. He doesn’t try to keep up with you at all

[literaryavenger]

Obsessed

Summary: Your crush on Bucky may be getting out of control.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Warnings: Dramatic Reader. Language. Angst. Fluff. My poor attempts at being Funny.

Word Count: 1.4K I'm physically incapable of making anything short.

A/N: I wrote this in like 2 hours and I don't even know what this is, just... Yeah.

Masterlist

This is terrible.

This is the worst thing that's ever happened to you.

This is the worst thing that's ever happened to anyone. It's just the most horrible, dreadful, awful thing that could’ve ever happen to yo-

“Would you stop staring at him for fuck's sakes!” Natasha's hissed words make your eyes snap to her and finally away from the metal armed Supersoldier lifting weights. Shirtless.

You don't know when Bucky stopped feeling self-conscious enough to allow him to workout in nothing but a pair of gym shorts, but it has become literal torture for you.

Needless to say, Bucky's current level of undress is making it impossible for you to concentrate on the stretching you're supposed to be doing before your sparring match with Natasha.

But your very thoughtful and not at all exasperated friend makes sure to keep your attention on her during the entirety of our match by thoroughly kicking your ass.

What a lovely best friend you have.

Anyways.

Your entire mood shifts with one not intentionally overheard conversation. Steve enters the gym and goes straight to Bucky, who was putting his weight set down.

“She’s here!” Is all the blonde says to his friend and your heart stops at the way Bucky’s face lights up with a smile, not needing any more information before following Steve out of the gym.

She’s here? Who the fuck is she? Does Bucky have a girlfriend? And most importantly, she’s here? In the Compound?

Natasha can almost see the gears turning in your brain as you make no attempts to move from the mat after she knocked you on your ass for the hundredth time today. You didn’t even seem to notice her hand offering you help to get up, your eyes still looking where Bucky was just a moment ago, staring at nothing in particular while your brain drowns in your overthinking.

Natasha sighs and decides to end the match here, kneeling down in front of you and placing her hands on your shoulders, shaking you gently to snap you out of it.

“Don’t overthink this.” She tells you when she’s sure she has your attention. “It’s probably just a friend visiting.” She tries to comfort you, but you both know that’s highly unlikely. 

Bucky has no other friends outside the team. He doesn’t know how to talk to civilians anymore after everything he’s been through, and gave up trying to after the hundredth time he saw fear in a person’s eyes just by recognizing him. So his friend circle now includes the team and the agents of SHIELD that are not intimidated by him. Point is, every friend he has already lives in the Compound.

So who the fuck is here just to see him? 

Natasha can see that this is a lost battle, your eyes barely concentrating on her as you start drowning in your mind again. All she can do when you’re like this is try to distract you and keep you out of your head. So she takes your hand and helps you up, leading the way to the common room to watch one of your beloved romcoms together, because that’s how much she loves you.

Big mistake.

“Y/N! Y/N!” The excited high-pitched voice came just seconds after you set foot in the common room. And that’s about the only warning you got before the excited 5-year-old jumped on you, your reflexes thankfully quick enough to catch her.

“Hi, Maguna!” You say while chuckling as the little girl hugs you. “You seem excited today. Did you get into the sugar cabinet again?”

Morgan giggles at your joke and shakes her hand before taking your face in her little hands and dramatically saying, “No! A princess came to visit uncle Bucky! A real princess.”

You frown, confused at what she’s talking about, before you look around the room and finally notice everyone else in it. Pepper and Tony are on the couch, looking at you lovingly as you interact with their daughter.

You love Morgan, she’s like a little sister. You never miss an opportunity to babysit her and you spend as much time with her as you can. She also loves you, out of all the Avengers you’re her favorite, much to everyone’s dismay. She calls them all ‘aunt’ and ‘uncle’, but you’re just Y/N. You’re her big sister, you don’t need a title. Which is why you're the only one other than Tony allowed to call her 'Maguna'.

Then you notice the other people in the room: Steve, Bucky and… Shuri. The fucking Princess of Wakanda, standing in the common room of the Avengers Compound and just smiling at you as you carry Morgan.

You’ve never met Shuri, but you know she played an important part in deprogramming the Winter Soldier out of Bucky, and you’re grateful to her for it. She’s important to Bucky, and you can’t believe you forgot Bucky has Wakandan friends.

You put Morgan down on the ground again and the little girl takes your hand and aggressively steers you towards where Steve, Bucky and Shuri are standing, clearly thrilled to be in the presence of a real life princess.

“Hi, I’m Shuri.” She offers you her hand when you get close enough and you shake it with your free hand while introducing yourself.

There’s a bit of an awkward pause and you’re about to say the first thing that pops into your head when Morgan thankfully saves you by pulling on your hand, making you look at her. She tells you to come close and, chuckling, you kneel beside her so she can whisper conspiratorially in your ear.

“She’s a princess and she’s really pretty, but I still like you better.” She whispers and you can’t help but laugh.

God, you love this little girl.

You smile brightly at her and launch a tickle attack, her adorable giggles filling the room as everyone looks at you two with warm smiles.

Your attention is solely on Morgan, until you unintentionally hear the whispered conversation between Shuri and Bucky.

“So, this is the girl, huh? She’s pretty.” Shuri says and your heart skips a beat. 

You glance at them as discreetly as you can while still tickling Morgan, only to find Bucky looking at someone behind you. You turn around less carefully and see Sharon just entered the room, and she's also looking at Bucky with a smirk. You quickly return your attention to Morgan, but your mind is going a thousand miles a minute.

Of course he’d like someone more like Sharon. She’s pretty, she’s talented, she’s a total badass and she’s not afraid to go after what she wants.

She’s not a mass of anxiety in the shape of a woman that overthinks everything and becomes a flustered mess every time she’s even near Bucky.

It’s time to admit it to yourself: Bucky just doesn’t see you like that and you need to move on. 

Natasha is right, your obsession with Bucky needs to end.

What you don’t see is Bucky almost glaring at Sharon because he knows damn well why she’s smirking. She came in just before Shuri whispered to Bucky, when he was very intent on looking at you with heart eyes as you played with Morgan.

Just before you looked at him, Bucky noticed Sharon and he had to hold in a groan at her because he knows that she’s never gonna let him live this down.

Both Sharon and Steve have tried really hard to convince Bucky that you like him back and he should make a move on you. But Bucky, being as stubborn as they come, never believes them.

He obviously makes you uncomfortable, you’re always stuttering when he’s around and you avoid eye contact whenever possible. He’s just glad that you can stand his presence enough for the two of you to work together when necessary and to hang out with the rest of the team without problems.

So he just enjoys looking at you from a distance. He loves watching you play with Morgan and his thoughts always run wild with images of you playing like that with kids that are yours and his.

But he knows that’s never going to happen. Why would you like a damaged, PTSD ridden soldier that can’t even make it through the night without waking up from a nightmare? No, that’s definitely not your type.

Bucky accepts the truth: He doesn��t deserve you and you don’t see him like that anyways. 

It doesn’t matter that Sam thinks he’s obsessed, that won’t stop him from looking at you whenever he’s lucky enough to get a glimpse of his little ray of sunshine.

#bucky barnes #avengers x reader #bucky barnes x you #sam wilson #steve rogers #shuri #tony stark #morgan stark #natasha romanoff #avengers x platonic!reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fanfiction #pepper potts

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: we vibing.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Jazlene comes to with a wispy sigh. You back up and stand as her mother helps her to her feet. The king is back at the table, unbothered by the overcome maiden. Lord Dustan hovers between, torn by loyalty to his liege and his family. New liege, that is. Only yesterday, he was toasting to good King Waleran. 

“My apologies, your highness,” Jazlene fans herself with her hand, “I was only surprised. I didn’t... How could I expect this? To marry a king?” She reaches down to grip her mother’s arm, shakily stepping forward towards the king who doesn’t even glance up from the table of maps, “I promise to you, your highness, I will be a good wife to you.” 

The king tilts his head, tracing a finger along a ridge of mountains, then leans in to examine the riverbeds below. Jazlene looks at her mother, an expression of concern on her pretty features. She is rarely ignored, if at all. She will make sure that she isn’t. 

“Lord Dustan, I expect the dowry will be served along with your men and my kingdom,” the king declares, “but now, I find myself fatigued. A hard day’s ride sees me in need of bath and a bed.” 

Dustan bows his head, “and so you will have it, your highness. I will send down for water--” 

“Have the maid see to it,” the king waves his hand vaguely in your direction, “certainly a servant is a servant.” 

“Yes, your highness, how wise,” Dustan simpers, as he often does to men with titles above his own. “You,” the duke turns and snaps his fingers, “you heard the king. He requires hot water in his chamber.” 

You keep your head down, “yes, my lord.” 

You spin without hesitation. You’re all too happy to be free of the noble intrigue. It is rather easier to be unseen and unthought of. It has ever kept you from envying these ladies and their silks and these lords and their golden signets. 

Your flight is fleet. You rush down the corridor and to the wide stairwell. You descend with your mission and pass Merinda as she paces listlessly outside the kitchens. She stops you with an arm across your path. 

“There are whispers,” she says lowly, “of who visits. Is it true?” 

You look at her. You don’t know if you should say. It isn’t her place and you don’t know what they say. There is rather much gossip in castles. 

“It is,” she hisses, “you don’t need to say it. You are a poor liar and when you say nothing, I know that is the reason.” 

Your lips pinch and you give her a look, “I have been sent to draw a bath.” 

“Oh, is the lady in need of her evening boil?” Merinda snickers. 

“Not her.” 

Merinda quiets and tilts her head, “...him?” 

“The king,” you answer thinly. 

She nods and steps closer, “is he... I don’t understand. His soldiers, they mill about with our own, they cavort together. Not as enemies. Are they not invading? Do they not mean to take the castle?” 

You tear your eyes away. She’s right, you are a poor liar. You lean in, lips right by her ear, you whisper, “Lord Dustan has new allegiances.” 

She claps her hand over her mouth as you back up. She stares at you with wide eyes. She slowly drops her arm and her lip quivers, “he means to get us all killed.” 

You push your shoulders up, “think only of today. It’s all we can do. Oh, do you know where the king’s chambers would be?” 

“Mm, they took his saddlebags to the ivory room. I think there,” she answers, “do you require assistance?” 

“Stay here,” you gird, “he is a brusque man.” 

That only seems to worry her more as her face twists. You can’t help but feel the same inside but you do your best not to let it show. You leave her and carry on to your task. 

You put the kitchen hands to boiling water and send a few others to find a tub to bring to the king’s chambers. You help where you can and take the first bucket up. You pour it into the large tub in the ivory room and return for second, a third, a forth, and fifth. There will be many more even as your arms ache and your nap slickens with sweat. 

Upon the eight, when the tub looks near halfway, the chamber is not empty. You’re surprised by the king’s presence as the door remains ajar. You pour the water with a low apology and diligent ‘your highness.’ He doesn’t respond. 

There is much to go still. Back down, up again, hot water splashing on your sleeves, singing beneath, dumping it over the edge as you keep your eyes on your work. Do not be more than a piece of furniture. You are only air. 

At the last bucket, you pour slowly, careful not to slosh over the edges. As you right the empty pail, you hear a metal chink. The king growls into a long exhale. You turn towards the door. 

“Close it,” he commands, “you will remain.” 

You’re happy he cannot see the look on your face. You obey and close the door. You turn back, standing by the pillar of the door frame, as you often do, and begin your vigil. It should not be unexpected that he may require you to fetch something further for him. 

Your eyes catch the bottom of his mail as he lifts it over his head. No, don’t look. He undresses, leather creaking, fabric rustling, pacing as he strips away each piece. You grip the rope handle of the bucket. He circles the long tub and nears you. You cower, bracing. You are not noticed, you are not approached, unless it is for rebuke. 

He grabs the bucket by the brim and tugs. You let it go. He turns and sets it on the floor away from you. You push your hands together, stilling a tremble. He wears only his breeches and you catch a glimpse of the thatch of hair along his thick stomach. You gulp and twine your fingers through each other. 

He turns away and crosses the room. You listen to the fabric fall from around his hips. Your eyes bore into the floorboards. The water shifts as he climbs into the tub and you listen to him groan as he lowers himself into the depths. The steam mingles with the tension of his silence. 

He sighs and stirs the water. The lull persists as you wait. He will need wine or food.  

“Come,” he bids and your eyes flick up. The tub conceals much of his lower body as his thick shoulders and arms stretch around the brim. “I have a knot.” 

You approach hesitantly, unsure where to aim your eyes the closer you get. He gestures around his head, “stand behind me.” 

You do as he tells you. 

He sits up slightly and bends his head forward, lifting his white hair out of the way, “here.” 

He points along the muscle beside his neck. It’s thick, just like all of him. You’ve never seen a man built like that. There are stringy barn boys and tubby cooks.  

You stare and raise a hand, hovering it over his muscle. Are you supposed to touch him? He is a king and you are a servant. You are a servant sold out of pig shit into servitude. 

His large hand reaches for yours and he guides it down. You shake before he lets you go. You feel the muscle, almost curious, and rub lightly. He makes a noise but you’re unsure of its tenor. 

“Harder,” he demands, “squeeze,” he shows his hand, making a kneading motion, “you cannot hurt me.” You do as he says. You squeeze and he rests his hand against the tub, “harder,” he repeats. 

You obey. 

His head hangs as his long strands touch the water. You bring your other hand up as your efforts make your tendons sore. He lets out shallow breaths and hissing groans. Your chest thumps at the sounds that rise from him. 

“Your master has broken his oath and sworn a new one to me. And you, does that make me your master as well? If I am your master’s master?” He asks slyly. 

You focus on your hands, “your highness?” 

“Answer, don’t be afraid. Liars bore me.” 

You sniff and mull your reply. You don’t know. You don’t have much of a choice in the matter. 

“Lord Dustan is my master. I am bound to serve him.” 

He snorts and lifts his head. You rescind your touch but he reaches back to latch onto your again. He tugs you forward, placing your hand back on his shoulder. 

“Softer now,” he instructs. You rub his damp flesh as he bends a leg, his knee poking above the water. “You, a servant, so low, and you are more loyal than any man with a title.” 

“Your highness, I must serve.” 

“As he must. Did he not swear himself to the old king? Eh? War does muddy the waters,” he muses, “coin does test old ties.” 

You say nothing. Your comment isn’t warranted or wanted. You know better. Jazlene taught you only to answer when asked. 

“Very well,” he taps your fingers, “I feel better. You have a kind touch.” 

You back away and wipe your hands on your apron. He hangs his head back and puffs. He closes his eyes. You watch the white waves made wilder by the humidity of the bath. 

“I hate sleeping in strange places,” he says, “you will stay for the eve.” 

You tuck your chin down and fold your hands together. Your scalp sweats beneath your cap, your shorn locks itchy with the heat. You wet your lips and force out the air trapped in your chest, “yes, your highness. As my master bid, I will serve you.” 

He says nothing more as he leans back against the tub completely. His large arms frame the metal and his hands wrap around the edges. He closes his shining eyes in recline, the water still and steaming. He stays that way until the damp heat dissipates. You stand locked in his thrall. 

He sits forward suddenly, the water stirring with his movement. He turns his hand and beckons with his thick fingers. 

“A bath sheet,” he demands. 

You go to the chest in the corner and open it. You retrieve a folded swath of fabric and bring it to him. He stands as you unfold the length of linen to obscure his form. Your eyes are on the ceiling as the water slakes from his figure and he looms large above you. 

He steps out, close to you, and puts his hands over yours. He pulls the sheet around his body, your arms too. He releases you only as he adjusts the fabric around his waist and you retract with humiliation nipping in your cheeks. You lean back on your heel as you shrink in his shadow. 

“Your highness, do you require refreshment? Wine? Sweetmeats?” 

“I did not ask for it,” he says, “I am tired.” 

“Apologies, your highness.” 

“Do not apologise for doing your duty. Would be a fairer world if more were so diligent.” 

He turns and strides away. There’s a knapsack and bedroll against the wall. He keeps one hand on the sheet and unbuckles the flap, reaching within and tugging out a bed shirt. He drops the sheet away and your eyes flit away from his nakedness. He has no shame but you are merely a servant. He shouldn’t care for your witness. 

He swipes the fabric over his head and it falls just to his thighs, concealing just enough to have him decent. His thick legs are trimmed in dark hair and the muscles are taut beneath his skin. He faces the bed and pulls back the quilt and linen. He pauses and looks up at you. 

“Will you sleep afoot then?” He wonders. 

“Your highness?” You wince. “I must...” you peer around, “empty the bath.” 

“Must you? Stagnant water can wait,” he insists. “Come.” 

You waver, skirts rippling around your legs. You step forward and stagger. 

“The lantern, your highness?” You inquire. 

“Douse the light if you will,” he allows. “And come.” 

You do as he bids and snuff out the flame. Your vision is left blackened and formless. You reach out blindly, realising your error too late. You can’t see much as you walk warily towards the bed. The heavy curtains are shut and block out the sliver of moonlight. 

Your knees hit the bed and you gasp. You catch yourself before you can fall forward, leaning against the mattress. You’re stuck like that, uncertain if you should go forward or back. Something wraps around your wrist, a stolid heat. 

“I often sleep with my horse,” the king says as he draws you onto the bed. “I need a warm body close.” 

You go rigid as you let him command your body. He guides you to lay down and tugs the bedclothes over you. The damp specks on your dress and apron cling to your skin. He leads your head over his thick arm as he lays on his back neck to you. You stare into the endless void of the canopy. 

“The horse smells much worse and snores,” he muses, his arm curling around your shoulders, offering a more comfortable rest for your head and neck. You quiver at being so close. It is an odd request but you daren’t decline it. “Be still,” his other hand comes to touch your sleeve, “and sleep. I only mean to ease my own unrest.” 

You close your eyes and exhale. Your heart is pounding and your body is tingling. You don’t think you can sleep with the surge flowing through you. He sighs and shifts slightly. You lay there, in silence, only the noise of his breath and yours to fill the castle walls. 

“I am awake,” he says. “Speak to me, maid. Tell me, where do you lay your head on nights where a king does not trouble you?” 

You wiggle slightly. Your spine is uncomfortable at the flatness but not worse than your usual fare. You bring your hand over your chest and fist your fingers tight. 

“On a bag of hay with Merinda,” you utter smally, pushing your legs together as you arch your back slightly. Your hips are tight. 

You’re startled as the bed jostles and he grips your hip. He rolls you onto your side, his touch lingers as he pulls you against him. He is as hot as a hearth. 

“Merinda?” He repeats. 

“Another handmaid, your highness.” 

He hums and drags his hand away from your hip. He blows out a great heavy and grunts. His arm curls around you snugly. 

“I hope I am preferable to that bag of hay,” he mutters and the tension seeps away from his form. “Though perhaps just as prickly.” 

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher #winter's king #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #medieval au

[hxxsxxngx]

SUNOO 김순우 - INNOCENT ATTRACTION

Word Count 1.0k

Genre : Fluff

Content : brothersbestfriend!sunoo, any gender reader, cuddling, sleeping in same bed… other fluffy stuff lol

Synopsis : Sunoo is your brothers best friend and can’t help but to feel attracted to him.

Authors Note : This is my first sunoo post… p.s. let me know if y’all want me to make a smutty part 2 :)

SUPPORT BY REBLOGGING if you want

Sunoo was constantly at my house. Every day when I got out of class, my brother Jungwon would have Sunoo over. It felt like he practically lived there. But there was something that Jungwon didn’t know. Sunoo confessed his feelings to me long ago.

His confession caught me by suprise given that we never really interacted with eachother besides when he’s at my house, but I will admit that there were many times where I caught him looking at me for longer than he should have been. I can also admit that Sunoo isn’t the ugliest person in the world. The prettiest people are the ones you look at when they don’t notice it. And that is exactly how it went for a few months. I always ignored him because I thought that maybe he just had a weird thing about me and Jungwon is just making up stories to cover up. But as the time passed, Sunoo became more and more bold in his actions.

He started leaving flowers on my desk or bringing me snacks and chocolates. He even tried kissing my cheek once. I knew he liked me so I pretended that I didn’t feel anything at all. That way I wouldn’t be able to tell him to stop coming over or make an excuse that he could come back anytime he wants. I wouldn’t say I have a crush on him, but I definitely liked the attention he was giving me, and I wasn’t going to be the one to tell him to stop.

I still haven’t told Jungwon that Sunoo likes me since the whole situation is still new to me. I want to talk to him, but I have no idea what to say to him or what he will do if I tell him. I think it will be best for me to keep this between us for now and just see how things go from here.

Jungwon was an early bird and Sunoo was a night owl. Everytime Sunoo spent the night in Jungwons room, he would stay up a lot later than him and there would be many times I would get midnight texts from him.

Sunoo:

Hey are you up?

(Y/N):

yeah what is it this time

Sunoo:

Heyyyy don’t be like that :(

Would you like someone to accompany you?

(Y/N):

i am really trying to sleep but if his snoring is that loud then i can make a bed of the floor for you in my room.

Sunoo:

Okay I will be there in a sec

Sunoo slowly creeps out of Jungwons room, making sure to turn the door knob quietly and to not make a sound. Few seconds later I hear a tap at my door.

“That was quick, I havnt even made your bed yet” I said opening the door.

“That’s fine, I can wait”

He makes way into my room and plops down onto my bed. I reach into my closet to grab some blankets to lay on the floor and I notice Sunoo crawling under my covers, getting a little too comfortable.

“You aren’t sleeping there” I snap

All I hear is a groan.

I continue laying out the blankets and crawl into my bed. “Your bed is ready” his eyes are half closed. I roll my eyes and thump his forehead.

“Pleaseee can I stay here? I am already comfortable and warm, and floor is cold and hard” he begs.

“Fine but stay on your side”

He smiles and quickly falls into sleep.

———————————————

About an our or two into the night, I guess I back up a little too far, to where my back is in Sunoo chest. He doesn’t have a negative reaction. Instead he snakes his around under my shirt around my stomach and rests his hand on my tummy. I am not compelled to move it, actually I didn’t mind it at all supprisingly.

My eyes start to fall closed and the feeling of falling asleep slowly becomes stronger. Sunoo seems to be taking a liking to this position so I let myself relax into it. When I feel Sunoo’s warm breath against the nape of my neck it sent shivers down my spine.

“Have I ever told you how good you smell?” he whispers into my ear.

I shake my head and pull away from him, trying to sit up. Before I can Sunoo pulls me back toward him. This causes a small smile to tug at the corner of my lips. “No, I don’t want you to go” he says tiredly. He runs his finger through my hair softly and gently, it is very relaxing to have someone pamper me like this. Someone who genuinely cared for me.

His body is so large and warm, I couldn’t deny that I actually liked cuddling with him. Maybe I do feel something for him. Maybe I have been denying my feeling in fear of ruining my relationship with Jungwon. Maybe it wasn’t just an infatuation. I sigh and rest my head back down. He continues stroking through my hair and he rubs my sides slowly and softly. I feel myself drifting off again. Eventually, we both fell asleep.

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen jungwon #heeseung #jungwon #enhypen niki #enhypen sunoo #kpop #stray kids #heeseung smut #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen jay #engene #enha #enhypen jake #jake enhypen #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff #kim sunoo #sunoo #enha sunoo #sunoo x reader #sunoo fluff #heeseung x reader

[btssavedmylifeblr]

Void - Part 9 - Tuesday (M)

title banner by @rude–jude♡

Genre: Sci-fi with a little angst and a LOT of smut

Pairing: BTS x Reader (yup - all seven)

Summary: You are the only female crew member on a 12 year space mission with seven handsome men. The sexual tension is real, y’all.

Word Count: 5.7k

Part 9 / ?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Warnings: explicit sexual content, entirely too much discussion about semen, some jealousy, possessiveness and slut-shaming, semi-accidental voyeurism

__________

A rush of cold air against your sweaty skin makes you shiver. It’s much cooler out here in the hallway than in the steamy sleep pod behind you. You leave Jungkook behind in the sleep pod, still getting his clothes back on, but your lingering arousal stays with you. 

You’ve barely made it two steps into the hallway when the door across from you opens. Jimin leans against the door frame. Damn, he looks good. He has the sleeves of his dark blue jumpsuit tied around his waist, leaving him in just a loose white t-shirt that rides up his arms as he crosses them. 

“Well, good morning to you,” he says. “And what have you been up to this morning?” The smirk on his face makes it clear he knows damn well what you’ve been up to this morning. 

“Umm…” You wiggle your hips in discomfort, the remnants of Jungkook sliding between your thighs. 

Mercifully, Jimin doesn’t actually make you tell him what you’ve been up to. “Do you have a minute to talk?” he asks, beckoning you to join him in his pod. 

Lord, you really don’t want to have an awkward relationship conversation with Jimin with Jungkook’s semen still inside you. You try to brush him off. “I have a lot of work to do this morning, Jimin.”

He snorts. “Seems like you’ve already gotten a lot done.” He lets the statement hang there as he smirks at you again. It’s very annoying how hot he is right now. 

The click of the door latch behind you startles you into action. The last thing you want is to be trapped in this narrow hallway with both Jimin and Jungkook. “Yeah, okay,” you say, diving into Jimin’s pod before Jungkook sees you. 

“So should I plan on waking up to the sound of you fucking other men every morning or only on Tuesdays?” Jimin asks as he closes the door.

“Well, not on Thursdays.” You are trying to flirtatiously deflect, but irritation flashes across Jimin’s face.

“Yes, well,” he mutters. “I guess I’ll just wait my turn.”

“Hey, you suggested sharing first,” you reply defensively. 

“With one man, not six.”

“Why does the number matter?” You’re already carving yourself into pieces to make them all happy, why did it matter how many? “You’ll still get your turn.”

“Bah!”Jimin stomps his foot in frustration. “I’m not some toddler who is bad at sharing a toy! I don’t want to have you just because it’s my turn.” He almost reaches for you again, but drops his hands in defeat. “I want you to want me.”

You sigh. “I do want you, Jimin.” Even first thing in the morning, with his dark hair falling loosely over his forehead, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. How can you explain that you are genuinely and specifically attracted to all of your crew members without sounding like a floozy? “I’ve wanted you ever since I watched that damn video of yours. And long before that too.”

“Really?” He bites his plush lower lip. “How long?”

You fold your arms and lean back against the other side of the pod. Memories come back to you of your space walk training at the bottom of the ICSE pool. Jimin always hated the overly warm training suits and would strip out of them long before reaching the men’s locker room. His sweaty t-shirts would stick to his skin, slightly translucent. It was impossible to keep your eyes off him as he’d laugh with the other guys and brush his hair back off his forehead, indifferent to your presence.  “Longer than you’ve wanted me,” you finally answer.

His eyes widen in surprise. “On Earth?” he asks. 

You nod. You chastise your past self for ever thinking that your insatiable thirsting for your crew wouldn’t become a problem eventually.

“Shit.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I had no idea.” He steps closer to you. “You were always so closed off.”

“Well, I’m not supposed to want you. Wanting you is highly inconvenient.”

He smiles as he leans in. “But you just can’t help yourself?” He glances down to your lips.

“Oh, don’t look so smug.” You push against his chest as his hands find their way around your waist. 

“I’m allowed to be smug.” He rests his forehead against yours. “The hottest woman in the universe wants me.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m the only woman in your—“

But his lips are on yours before you can finish your sentence, one hand gripping your waist as the other finds its way to the nape of your neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss. 

All your arousal that had been simmering just below the surface comes rushing back as his fingers caress your neck and along your jaw. His lips are just the right balance of soft and firm. You moan as he breaks away from your lips to begin kissing down the side of your neck. 

“But then how can you only want me on Thursdays?” he asks between kisses. “I want you every day. Mondays. Tuesdays. Wednesdays. All the time. God, I haven’t even bothered to remember what day of the week it is for the last two years and now it’s all I can think about.”

“I obviously don’t only want you on Thursdays.” You gasp as his hand finds your breast over your jumpsuit, closer to the surface then it would normally be since you abandoned your shirt with Jungkook. “I’m just trying to be fair.”

“Fairness is overrated.” He sucks on the junction of your neck and collarbone as you tilt your head back to give him more access. “Shit, are you not wearing a shirt?”

His hand is on your zipper before you can answer, tugging it down to discover the answer for himself. “Good lord,” he mutters, hands caressing your bare sides and breasts. “Where is your shirt?”

“I’m having a bit of a laundry problem.” You run your fingers through his hair, holding tight as he peels down your bra and runs his tongue across your nipple. “Somehow all my clothes are covered in cum.”

He groans out loud at that, sinking to his knees as he kisses down your belly, following the opening in your jumpsuit. “Shit, really? Jungkook?” And then he pauses and looks up at you. “What did he do?”

“You really want to know?” You ask and Jimin nods. You laugh. “It’s more what I did to him.”

“Tell me,” he urges. “And take this off.” He tugs at the bottom of your zipper. 

“Made him beg.” You shrug out of the jumpsuit, in your bra and panties once again. Your panties stick to you where Jungkook’s remnants have merged with your own arousal. Jimin’s eyes are glued to them. “Rode him until he came inside me.” 

Jimin licks his lips and looks up at you. “Can I see?”

You tilt your head curiously. “That doesn’t bother you?”

He laughs a little, shaking his head. “Maybe it will later, but right now, it’s just super hot.”

A whole new rush of heat runs through you as you slide your panties down. This is the dirtiest thing you’ve ever done. One man kneeling rapturously in front of you to see you covered in the release of someone else. It’s debauched and it’s glorious. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if you should stop this and wait for Jimin’s assigned day, but your logical brain vacated its post the moment Jimin knelt in front of you. 

“You do like being messy, don’t you?” He runs a careful finger along your labia and your legs tremble. “Doesn’t matter whose cum it is, does it?”

“Fuck, Jimin, please.” You tug on his hair, needing him to do something, anything. 

He gathers a glob on his finger before flicking it to the floor. He stands up and kisses you again, the hand sticky with cum now caressing your cheek. It’s both tender and filthy. And then he’s turning you around to face the wall of the pod. “Bend over.”

Your legs are trembling so hard you have to cling to the wall, but you allow him to guide you down so you’re bent at ninety degrees, hands on the wall, ass out. You hear him strip out of his clothes and then a finger slips inside you. 

“God, you’re so wet.” His hands grip your hips as he replaces his finger with his cock. “How many times did he get you off?”

Jimin eases his way into you and the tenderness makes you groan. “He didn’t,” you pant. 

“Amateur,’ Jimin scoffs. He reaches around to your front and finds your sensitive clit. The trembling in your legs gets stronger as he begins rolling his hips. 

“He wanted to,” you gasp. “Didn’t let him.”

“Don’t even care about your own pleasure, huh? Just want to take all the cock you can?” He pairs the teasing with a firm pressure from both inside and out and you’re shattering around him, unable to deny how much it turns you on to be used by them all. 

You hear the smile in Jimin’s voice, how proud he is of himself, as he tightens his grip on your hips and speeds up his pace.  

“You’re mine now though. You were mine first and you’ll always be mine. Whenever any of them fuck you, I’ll fuck them out of you. Replace them with me. The only cum you’ll be carrying around inside you is mine.” 

He stills, leans over to kiss your back and neck as he fills you up. You can feel his self-satisfied grin against the skin of your back. 

He slides out of you, patting your ass as he goes. Your whole body flushes as yet more cum leaks from you. God, you’re a mess. He kneels down behind you and picks up your panties, sliding them back up your legs. 

“That’s better,” he says as he slides them up and over your ass, trapping his cum against you.  

“Uh, thanks,” you reply, completely at a loss for what to say as a weird cold feeling begins churning in your stomach. You have the sudden worry that Jimin is going to expect every day to go like this, even those that aren’t his. “Gonna go clean up now.”

Jimin grins and kisses your cheek. “See you soon,” he whispers. 

______________

And so you find yourself once again attempting to de-sperm yourself in the space toilets. Another tinge of doubt washes over you as you stare at the flimsy compostable toilet paper and contemplate trying to do this every day for the next 12 years. Is that what you’ve committed yourself to? Multiple times a day? Multiple men per day? Surely they will grow bored of you eventually, right? This falls way outside your mission parameters. Maybe you should call this whole thing off.

Despite your best efforts with the toilet paper, you’re still gross and sticky. Your jumpsuit and underwear are gross and sticky too. There’s nothing for it. You need a shower and some clean clothes. 

Showers weren’t an everyday luxury on the Minos. You could only manage once or twice a week without outpacing the water reclamation system. Technically you weren’t due for another day or two, but you couldn’t wait any longer. 

The showers and the laundry machines sit in the same section of the ship near the water tanks. Before heading there, you jog back to your sleep pod to gather up the rest of your dirty laundry. Jungkook is long gone. Your shirt/make-shift blindfold lies thrown in a corner. As you gather up your scattered clothes, the stink of your laundry makes another way of regret wash over you. You were only one and half days into your new plan and all your clothes are covered in bodily fluids. This is exhausting. 

The laundry machines and showers also happen to sit right next to Yoongi’s workshop and you can’t help wondering about him as you walk in that direction. You haven’t seen him since your striptease in the kitchen.

“Okay, I’m in,” he had sent you. It betrayed so very little of what he’s thinking. And the question of what exactly he wants from you is still unanswered. But at least he has admitted to wanting you. Your stride slows as you pass his workshop, scanning with your peripheral vision while trying to look like you aren’t checking to see if he’s in there. 

But the workshop is dark and empty. Whatever his feelings for you, they will remain a mystery for now. 

God, what is the matter with you? You’ve already fucked two men this morning and here you are pining for a third. That can’t be normal, can it? The ICSE really fucked up when they decided to send the world’s horniest woman on this mission. 

You continue to chastise yourself as you load your laundry into the machines.  The laundry machines sit in a vestibule just outside the showers with a door to the hallway that locks, so you are able to strip off the clothes you are wearing now as well and run them through the laundry while you shower. Removing your wet underwear makes you cringe. How have you managed to go from “first woman to pass the orbit of Mars” to “woman with two different men’s semen in her underwear”?

You’re so preoccupied with your self-slut-shaming that you don’t hear the water running behind the shower door. The door was unlocked and there weren’t any clothes in the machines, so you just assumed the shower was empty. But you are wrong.

Flight Engineer Min Yoongi is standing in the shower completely naked and dripping wet. His back is to you as he washes his face. His long dark hair runs down over his shoulders. When did his hair get so long?

He doesn’t see you, face still covered in soap, but turns his head as the door clicks open. “Hey! Occupied!” he calls out. 

“Oh shit!” you curse, backing up. Shit. You’re naked too. Shit. All your clothes are in the washing machine and must be soaking wet by now. You attempt to cover yourself with your hands as you debate how to get out of here.

“Oh, is that you, Officer?” he chuckles, wiping the soap and water from his eyes before turning to greet you, smirk on his face. “I thought I wouldn’t be seeing you until Friday. Come to get a sneak peek?”

Your face is on fire, you are so embarrassed. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t know anyone was in here.”

He looks totally calm, running his gaze up and down you luxuriously. “No worries. We are in a ‘consensual sexual relationship’ now, aren’t we? Or should I be hiding my dick from you Saturday to Thursday?”

His demeanor is infuriating and you feel so foolish. “Why didn’t you lock the door?”

He shrugs. “Tuesdays are my shower day. No one is ever here but me.” He looks you up and down again and there is really no hiding anything from him. “The real question is what are you doing here?”

Shit. How do you get out of this conversation? “I, umm, needed a shower.”

He laughs, turns off the water and shakes his head, long hair sending drops of water flying around the sealed room. “You know this plan of yours is gonna fuck with our whole shower schedule, right?” 

It’s hard to focus on what he’s saying as he wraps his hand around his hair and pulls it up into a bun behind his head.

“When did your hair get so long?” Your voice is higher pitched than normal and you grimace.

“Oh yeah…” He tucks one of the shorter loose strands behind his ear. “It’s been getting in my way. I was going to ask if you might have time to cut it on Friday.” He pulls a towel from the wall behind him and wraps it around his waist. 

“Oh, no, no, no…” you rush out, heart skipping a beat at the allusion to your day with him.

“Oh.” He frowns. “Okay. That’s fine.”

“No, I just mean, don’t cut it.” You giggle nervously. “I just mean, uh, it looks good. As is.”

“Aha.” He grins and you watch a water drop glide from his jaw down his throat. “Well, in that case, I imagine there are more enjoyable things we could be doing…” He walks closer, and reaches toward you as your heart races. You close your eyes and give up trying to  cover yourself as his warm wet body comes right into your personal space. “On Friday,” he finishes, reaching the door handle behind you and popping it open. 

God, you hate him. “Um, yeah, sounds good,” you mutter as you dive out of his way. 

“Looking forward to it,” he replies, eyes dark with intention, before heading out the door. “Enjoy your shower, Officer.”

______________

A shower has you feeling much more like yourself again. But when you get to the kitchen for breakfast, you nearly walk right back out when you see who’s gathered around the table. 

Jin, Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung are all sitting at the table, munching on their breakfasts. The prospect of sitting next to three different men you’ve watched orgasm in the last 24 hours makes the idea of eating feel entirely impossible. Not to mention the very hot man you are just pretending to sleep with. How has your life gotten this messy?

You are about to flee down the hallway when Jin looks up and makes direct eye contact with you. 

“Good morning!” Jin greets you and suddenly all four men’s eyes are on you. “Come sit with us!” He pats the chair next to him. “Taehyung made scorched rice.” 

Your brain helpfully chooses this moment to remind you that the last time you saw Jin, you came on his face. 

Taehyung nods enthusiastically and mumbles through a mouthful of rice. “There’s plenty left.” He swallows and gestures to the pot on the cooktop. 

Jungkook springs up from his seat. “I’ll get you some!” He pulls out the chair between him and Jimin, not the one Jin was suggesting. “Have a seat.” 

“Oh, uh, thanks, but I need some coffee too.”

“I’ll get it!” Jimin pops up too. “You rest.” He also clearly gestures at the seat that would put you next to him and Jungkook. Jin frowns slightly, while Taehyung bites back a laugh. 

“Oh, okay…” You run out of objections and sit down at the table while Jungkook and Jimin run to bring you breakfast. “This really isn’t necessary,” you mumble, but they’re not listening. 

Jungkook returns first with a bowl of stew and a plate of scorched rice for you and then sits down next to you. The memory of him on his knees begging to touch you flashes across your mind.

You take a bite of your food as the other men at the table resume eating. Jimin returns a minute later with your coffee. You take a sip and grimace at the too sweet concoction. Jimin still doesn't know how you take your coffee.

“Something wrong?” Jimin asks. 

You swallow it down. “No, it’s fine. Thank you.”

There’s a few moments of silence while everyone eats, before Jin nudges Jungkook with his elbow. “Seems like someone got a pretty early start this morning, huh?” he says teasingly.

“Jin!” you gasp as Jungkook chokes on his food. “You can’t just say things like that!” You pat Jungkook on the back to make sure he doesn’t die. 

“What?” Jin shrugs. “Isn’t everything supposed to be out in the open now?”

“Mmm,” Taehyung nods, hiding his mouth behind his hand as he laughs. “Like the bonobos.”

“Fucking bonobos.” Jimin groans. 

“It seems more awkward not to talk about it.” Jin continues. “We all heard him in there. Why pretend otherwise?”

Jungkook finally manages to swallow. “You heard us?”

“The walls aren’t thick,” Jin laughs. “Impressive that you can go two rounds that early in the morning. Ah, to be young.”

“Two rounds?” Jungkook frowns in confusion. Your entire face feels like it will melt off. Jimin says nothing, but his hand finds your knee under the table next to him and squeezes it.

“Speaking of,” Taehyung interrupts. “Can I take you on a date tomorrow night?”

“We can take you on dates?” Jungkook asks.

“Um yeah, sure.” You answer both questions at once. “Though it’s not like there’s really anywhere to go.”

“Don’t worry. I have a plan,” Taehyung nods smugly. 

“Can I take you on a date today?” Jungkook interjects. “Or do you only get one shot per day?”

“Uh… I don’t know. I didn’t really make rules that specific.”

Jimin’s thumb traces small circles around your knee and it’s a reminder that you’re not really sticking to even the limited rules you set out in the first place. Seven men is entirely too many men.

The conversation is mercifully interrupted by a shipwide message on your tablets. It’s from the commander. 

“A reminder to all crew members that any activities of an intimate nature are to be conducted in the privacy of the sleep pods. They are not appropriate for the public areas of the ship, which are monitored and recorded.”

The choice to put this in a written communication rather than an in-person conversation is surprisingly passive aggressive for Namjoon.

Taehyung looks at you. “What did you do?”

“She took all her clothes off in the kitchen!” Jin laughs.

“Excuse you! I covered the camera! You’re the one who ran me ass-first into our commanding officer!”

Jin sighs in delight. “Man, you should have seen his face.”

Jimin’s hand slides further up your leg and you’ve had enough. “Thank you all so much for breakfast, but Hoseok must need me in the lab by now.” You gather the remainder of your breakfast into your arms and back out of the kitchen. “I’ll see you later.” You’re not even sure which man you’re talking to. All of them really. There’s no escape. You will see all of them later. 

____________

For all your attraction to Hoseok and disappointment that he hasn’t signed your form yet, at the moment, you are a bit relieved. Hoseok puts on another science podcast and the two of you settle into your work for the day, safe in the knowledge that no one will come to proposition you. 

Or so you think until the end of the day, when Jungkook shows up at the lab door with a large plastic storage bin under one arm. Hoseok spots him first. 

“Hey, JK, what’s up?” he asks. “Do you have more samples for us?” He gestures to the box under Jungkook’s arm. 

“Oh, no.” Jungkook swallows, glancing down at the box. “It’s actually food.”

“Food?” Hoseok asks.

Jungkook steps farther into the lab. “I was hoping to treat our biologist to a dinner date.”

“Oh!” You and Hoseok are surprised in unison. 

“So you two are dating now?” Hoseok asks, looking back and forth between the two of you with raised eyebrows. “I thought this whole thing was just...” 

He trails off without saying the rest of the thought out loud and a frown line appears between his eyebrows.

“I’m not really clear on myself.” Jungkook takes this as an invitation to put the bin down on the lab counter and turn to you. “What are the rules exactly? Are we dating? Are we dating all the time or only on Tuesdays? Is it time-bound and when does it end? Does it end at midnight or can we fall asleep together? Can I hold your hand? Can I kiss you? Can I only kiss you on Tuesdays?”

Hoseok’s frown deepens and you rush to cut off Jungkook’s torrent of questions. “It’s not dating,” you try to explain. “We’re not…It’s not a relationship. I’m just trying to help people fill the void of what they’re missing from Earth. Like if they miss dates, we can have dates.”

“But it doesn’t mean anything?” Hoseok asks and you are totally stumped for what he wants the answer to that question to be. “You’re just pretending to be together one day a week?”  

“It’s not personal…” you reply, glancing back and forth between the two men, unsure which one you should be reassuring right now. 

But how could it be personal when you’re the only option? Like obviously they wouldn’t be choosing to date you on Earth. None of them chose you at all. They just miss sex and relationships and you can help them with that. But you can’t let yourself pretend it’s real. Or that it’s about you. 

“Nevermind.” Hoseok begins packing up his stuff. “It’s none of my business. I’ll leave you to your date.” The word “date” has a sarcastic bite to it that is unusual to hear in Hoseok’s voice. The temperature of the room seems to drop as he slings his supply bag over his shoulder and leaves. 

Jungkook turns away from you and busies himself unpacking food from his box onto the counter. His shoulders are a bit slumped and you really wish you could have talked to him alone. “It’s nothing fancy,” he mutters. “Just some sandwiches and drinks.”

You walk over and rest your hand on his shoulder. “That’s really thoughtful, Jungkook, thank you.” He freezes for a moment when you rest your hand on his back, then sighs and leans into your touch. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur as you rub his back. He tilts his neck back and forth and groans in a pleased way. “We can hold hands. If you want. And you can kiss me.”

That’s all the greenlight Jungkook needs as he spins around and pulls you into his arms, He gives you a hungry kiss, then pulls back. “God, I would love you seven days a week if you’d let me.” 

“I know, Jungkook.” A real tinge of sadness creeps into the edges of your mind. You can imagine a world in which it’s just you and Jungkook, passing the time to Europa in an endless string of orgasms and increasingly athletic sexual positions on every surface of the ship as he finds new ways to get you off. You hear Yoongi’s voice chastising you again. Nobody actually gets what they want.

But your regrets quickly melt away the more you kiss him. His kisses are full of fire and desperation. If anything, he seems even more eager than he was this morning. The memory of him kneeling before you, begging to be inside you, is intoxicating.

“I owe you an orgasm,” he murmurs between kisses. 

You can get on board with that plan. “Maybe we skip dinner,” you say as you start steering him toward the door. 

He finds your zipper. “Aww, but I worked so hard. I can get you off and we can still have time for dinner.”

Your hand stops his from pulling down the zipper any further. “Jungkook, this is the lab.”

“So?” Jungkook is too focused on running his hands up and down your hips and ass over your clothes.

“So…” you grab his hands to get his focus back on your face. “Namjoon said sleep pods only.”

There is more to it than that. Something about the lab feels particularly like a betrayal. But it’s hard to put into words. 

“Oh come on, he just doesn’t want us on the cameras.” He starts guiding you by your hips toward the lab bench in the corner next to the door. “But I know where all the camera blindspots are.”

“I don’t know…”

“Just let me show you.”  Continuing to kiss you, he slowly backs you up into the wall just to the right of the door. He leans his forearms on the wall above you, caging you against the wall in between the door and the lab counter. “Pull out your tablet,” he commands.

The camera feed of the lab visible on your tablet appears to show an empty room. “See,” he says, kissing your neck. “No one here. Nothing to see.”

He picks you up and sets your ass on the edge of the lab bench. You like being manhandled by him more than you care to admit. He wiggles his eyebrows mischievously. “And this gets you to just the right height…” And then he’s dropping to his knees again. 

“I don’t know…” Your position up on the counter allows you to see out the window in the center of the lab door and out into the hallway. “What if someone sees us?” You want to sound concerned, but honestly the idea has you squeezing your legs together enthusiastically at the risk. 

“They can’t see us from the main hall. They’d have to be coming into the lab.” Jungkook’s hand cups your jaw and turns your face back down to him. “Watch me.” 

God, he’s so hot. Muscular hands and large eyes fixed entirely on you. 

“Okay, okay, but be quick about it.” You shuck your jumpsuit and underwear down your legs. 

“Yes, Ma’am.” He starts tracing little circles with his fingers up one thigh and trailing soft kisses up the other. “You remember when you were cutting my hair?”

“Yes….” you groan as his fingers reach the very top of your thigh, just short of where you really want them.

“And you were pulling my hair and using it to get my head in just the right position?”

You nod, ability to speak temporarily suspended as his mouth reaches the tender skin where your thigh meets your hip. 

“Well this is all I’ve been dreaming about since then. So feel free to hold on.” He scoots even closer on his knees, resting your legs on his shoulders and guiding your hands to his hair. 

You weave your hands through his soft dark hair and he groans. Arousal floods through you at the sound, your body responding in kind to how turned on he is. And then he dives in. 

He starts slow, but firm, no hesitation. Long slow strokes of his tongue around your clit, holding a steady rhythm. 

“Fuck,” you gasp. “How are you perfect at this too?”

He chuckles, so self-satisfied. “I’m a fast learner. Now will you relax and stop thinking?”

And you give yourself permission to let your guard down. To close your eyes. To relax into the sensations, the pleasure, the slow steady build. You’re so wet and open you barely notice when he slides a finger inside you, but you do jolt forward when he matches that steady pressure on your clit with internal pressure from his finger. It’s so good, you moan out loud and grip his head tighter.

Your eyes remain tightly shut, but you can hear his grin as he groans. “I’m going to make you come so hard.” The pride in his voice, the pleasure, it’s irresistible. 

And the pleasure builds and builds until it is overwhelming, almost beyond what you can tolerate, hands clenched in his hair for dear life, unsure if you’re trying to pull him off or press him in further. But the stubborn man holds his position, even as your hips buck against his face. “Fuck, Jungkook, fuck…” 

And you’re breaking, shattering into pieces under his tongue and clenching hard around his fingers. 

“Ugh…” you groan, leaning your head back on the lab cabinet behind you. Your breathing slows as you calm down, fingers still tangled in Jungkook’s hair as you open your eyes. 

There’s a face in front of yours when you open your eyes. His eyes are so dark that it takes you longer than it should to realize that they're not Jungkook’s eyes. Jungkook is still down on his knees as you process that the other man is standing in the hallway, watching you through the window. 

“Shit,” you gasp, yanking Jungkook away from you. “Hoseok…”

How long has he been there? How much did he see? Was he watching you? His gaze flicks up from where he’s been staring at the connection between you and Jungkook and meets your eyes. The intensity there is so overwhelming that it’s hard for you to make sense of it. Is it anger? Lust? Disgust? Then his eyes go wide as he realizes you see him and he disappears from view.

“Not exactly the name I was hoping you’d yell when you climaxed on my face…” Jungkook grumbles as he stands up and wipes his face on the sleeve of his jumpsuit. 

“Shit, sorry,” You reply as you frantically fight to get your clothes back on. “He was here, he saw us. I have to go.”

“But…” Jungkook gestures across the lab. “I brought dinner.”

“Sorry,” is all you can manage before you race out into the hallway. 

“Hoseok!” you yell as you run down the corridor. “Hoseok, come back!”

He’s not in the kitchen. He’s not on the bridge. “Officer Jung, report your location,” you try on your radio, but receive only silence. 

You are panting by the time you reach the sleep pods. The door to his is closed. “Hoseok!” you shout as you bang on the door. “Hoseok!”

You hear shuffling around inside the sleep pod and know he’s in there. “Hoseok!” you yell, almost on the verge of tears. “Hoseok, please talk to me.” 

The door opens just a crack, not enough to see him. “Please, Hoseok, I need to talk to you,” you plead. 

“I… I… can’t.” he stammers. “I can’t right now. Please. Just… just go away.”

Your stomach is full of lead as you shuffle into your own sleep pod next door and rest your head and arms against the wall, desperately trying to catch your breath. 

He hates you. You disgust him. You’ve betrayed everything you stand for. You’ll never be able to work in the lab again. 

A small knock on the door interrupts your thought spiral. 

“Hoseok?” you ask optimistically, scrambling to get up. 

“No, Jungkook again.” The hot ball of shame in your guts glows even brighter. 

“I’m sorry, Jungkook, I can’t right now…” If you see anyone else, you’re going to cry.

“I have dinner for you.”

“I’m sorry.” The idea of eating anything right now feels entirely impossible. “I’m not… I’m not hungry.”

A long exhale comes from the other side of the door. “Okay, goodnight.”

You collapse to the floor of your sleep pod as the weight of all your shame and guilt and irresponsible choices crashes down upon you. 

_____

Part 10 coming soon! Apologies for leaving it there, but I promise the next update will be done much faster than this one. Thank you very much to anyone and everyone still interested in this fic.

#jimin x reader #jungkook x reader #ot7 x reader #void #btssavedmylifeblr

[waywardxwords]

Chapter 8 - Save Me

Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.

Chapter Warnings: Slight language; there's a ton of dialogue in this one but I feel like it's necessary to prep for the chapters ahead

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader

Word Count: ~3k

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If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know how you felt about going to Kansas for the unforeseeable future. While it wasn’t like you went into an office everyday and you could really work from anywhere within the United States, you had still built your life in Virginia. You had friends—especially Jen—and it felt weird leaving her here, unable to defend herself. But Dean had assured you she would be taken care of, and you knew that you were unable to defend yourself against these monsters Dean and Sam knew how to fight. 

“You about ready?” Dean asked as he tapped softly on your opened bedroom door. 

A heavy sigh fell from your lips as you looked at your packed-to-the-brim duffel bag and backpack. Dean said it was important to pack as light as possible, but without knowing when you’d be back, it was hard to be selective in what you brought. 

“I think so,” you mumbled, your lip caught between your teeth yet again. You released it as Dean stepped into the room. 

“Hey, I know this is a lot to take in,” Dean started slowly. Both of the boys kept treating you like you were made of glass, which was a little bit annoying but also made sense. It felt like you were all waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“I’m okay,” you said out loud for him, but also for yourself. “I’m not really a big fan of the unknown…I’m a planner.” You mumbled as you looked around at your things.

“Not big on taking chances, huh?” Dean chuckled softly as his eyes watched you move. Again, it was like he was waiting for it all to set in and for you to crumble.

“Nope,” you sighed as you finally looked back at him. “Rule follower, remember?” You managed a half-smile as you remembered the first time you met in Atlanta.

“Oh, I remember,” Dean smirked back. He took a few steps towards you and you both sat on the edge of your bed. “Just keep in mind–this doesn’t have to be forever.” Your head had dipped a bit, so he moved his to find your gaze. 

“I get that,” you nodded. You didn’t want to offend him; this was his life. He was used to packing an ‘oh shit’ bag and getting out of town. He was used to all of the things that went bump in the night. You, on the other hand, were still trying to wrap your mind around it all. “I just wish I could circle a date on the calendar and know when I could come home.”

Dean nodded as he processed your words. “Tell ya what,” he started. “How about we take it one day at a time, for now,” he paused but you waited for the ‘and then’ part. “Once we get back to Kansas, we can sit down and come up with a plan. Figure out what it looks like so we can get you back home.” 

You didn’t want to be presumptuous, but there was a tone in his voice that almost sounded like he wasn’t looking forward to that. But since everything had happened, you really hadn’t been given a moment to figure out what this was between you and Dean.

“That sounds fair,” you answered honestly. Dean smiled and seemed hesitant, but leaned over and kissed the side of your head anyway.

“Good,” he seemed okay with your answer. He sighed and looked around at the rest of your room. “Anything I can do to help?”

You pushed your hair behind your ears and followed his gaze as you, too, looked around. “I don’t think so,” you said softly. “I’ve packed just about everything that will fit into my bags. I’m just worried I’m forgetting something.” 

“We do have stores in Kansas, ya know,” Dean winked as he stood and reached for your duffel. “Jesus, woman.” He muttered as he slung it over his shoulder. “You got a dead body in here, or what?”

You managed a laugh as you stood to follow him and slung your backpack up on your shoulders. “No, Dean, I think I’ll leave the dead bodies to you.” You patted him on the shoulder and walked just beyond him, but you heard him laugh as you rounded the corner into the hallway.

“Everything locked up?” Sam asked as you closed up the front door and headed to meet the boys in the driveway.

“Yep,” you sighed and readjusted your backpack a bit. “I mean, it probably doesn’t matter when it comes to demons, right? They can get through locked doors, I’m guessing.”

They didn’t answer you directly but nodded slightly. “I’m guessing you want to bring your car to Kansas?” Dean asked as he eyed your garage door.

“Oh, absolutely,” you answered quickly. “I just figured I would follow behind you guys, if that’s okay.” You said as you used the keypad on the side of the garage to type in your PIN number that opened the door. 

Sam and Dean stared at you, confused for a minute. “Sam’s flying back to Kansas,” Dean said. “This is a rental so I figured I’d drop it off on the way and hitch a ride with you, if that’s alright.” His words made you turn around slowly and your brows pulled together in confusion. 

“Wait,” you started carefully. “You flew here?” 

Dean caught why you were so surprised and flashed his white teeth in a small smile. He pulled at the back of his neck as Sam watched you both look at each other. “Sweetheart, I don’t own European cars. Don’t drive ‘em either, if I can help it.” He shrugged as he thumbed to the Volkswagen Jetta in your driveway. 

“Okay,” there was more you wanted to say but you decided not to rub in how much Dean hated flying in front of Sam. You weren’t familiar with their dynamic at all, but Dean had told you that he didn’t like being afraid, and that he always tried to be strong for his brother. You didn’t want to embarrass him or say something you shouldn’t in front of Sam. “Do I wanna know why you have to get back to Kansas quickly?” You turned your gaze to the younger Winchester. 

Sam chuckled softly and shook his head. “Work…related,” he mumbled. “So probably not.”

You nodded once and turned back to your car. “Okay, then,” you breathed. “I’ll follow you to the airport and wait for you to drop off the rental.” 

You loaded up your backpack and Dean tossed your duffel bag in the car.  As you both turned away, you faced each other, maybe a foot apart. 

“I’ll see you at the airport,” he said softly. 

“Be safe,” you said back as you studied his features and tried to read what he was thinking. He nodded, and after one more look, he went to walk back to the rental car. 

Before he could step away, you took a chance. You reached for his jacket and tugged so he turned back to you. With his jacket still between your fingers, you pressed your lips to his in a rather quick, but hard kiss. For a moment, he paused but then his hands cupped your face as he kissed you back. 

As the pop echoed around you, you didn’t notice how Sam had turned to give you some privacy and scratched awkwardly at the back of his head. “What was that for?” Dean asked as his eyes looked between yours. 

“To say I’m sorry, again, for not believing you,” you started softly but continued before he could say anything. “And for saving my life.” A small smile tugged up the corner of his lip just enough for his dimple to appear. 

“I don’t want you to apologize to me again, got it?” His thumb caressed your cheek gently. 

“No more apologizing from either of us,” you stared into his eyes until he nodded. 

“Deal,” he agreed, though somewhat hesitantly. 

“Okay,” you pulled back and waved at Sam. “Thanks to you too, Sam.” You called after him. He turned back around and nodded. “And I guess I’ll be seeing you in Kansas.”

“I’ll see you there,” he nodded as he waved. “Drive safe.”

You nodded and watched Dean walk back to the car. Just before he climbed into the driver’s seat, he called out after you. “And I’ll be seeing you soon.”

Even after everything, you couldn’t help the heat that radiated in your cheeks or the way a smile pulled across your lips. 

Dean had dropped Sam off at the drop off area at the airport. Once he had gathered his backpack, you followed Dean to the rental car return. It only took a few minutes before you popped the trunk to your Toyota Camry and waited for Dean to toss in his duffel bag. 

He pulled open the passenger door and leaned down. “You want me to drive?” He asked carefully. Dean seemed like the kind of guy who preferred driving, but you smiled and shook your head ‘no’ anyway. 

“How about I take the first shift? And then we can switch,” you suggested. He seemed content enough with that response and climbed in. “Sorry it’s not the Impala.” You offered with a small smile. 

“Ah, it’s alright,” he sighed as he pulled on his seatbelt. “I’ll get you in a Chevy or Ford, eventually.” He smiled back. You chuckled softly and shook your head as you pulled away from the airport. 

“What’s the address?” You asked as you toyed with the navigation on the dash. 

Dean grumbled, something about fancy cars and shitty navigation systems but you just rolled your eyes. He plugged in an address for Lebanon, Kansas. 

“Jesus,” you mumbled, as the screen totaled your drive time at 20 hours and 32 minutes. 

“Buckle up, sweetheart. Hope you’re ready for a long drive,” Dean chuckled. It was already late into the evening, pushing midnight by now. 

“It’s weird, I feel like I’ve been up for days at this point,” you muttered as you adjusted the air and your seatbelt. 

“You sure you don’t want me to drive?” He eyed you carefully. That was the thing about Dean’s gaze: you could feel it even when you didn’t see it. 

“I’m alright. We can switch when we stop,” you shifted the car into drive and eased on the gas. Dean unbuckled his seat belt to pull off his jacket before he buckled it again. “I’m supposed to call Jen tomorrow. I’m not even sure what to say to her, she recognized you from the photos we found online.” The sound of your voice was anything but strong as your stomach flip-flopped. 

“I’m guessin’ the truth isn’t an option?” Dean asked. 

You shook your head no. “And say what? She got possessed by a demon named Meg, her eyes turned black and she flung me against the wall a few times? Yeah, I’m pretty sure she’d have me committed,” you fell into a comfortable speed as you got on the interstate and hit cruise control. 

Dean half chuckled and shook his head as he glanced out the passenger window and then back to the windshield, his features illuminated by the headlights of drivers coming down the other side of the highway. “That probably wouldn’t go over too well. It’s a lot for anybody to take in.”

You muddled over a thought before you said it out loud. “How did you take it when you first found out?” You asked him as you glanced between him and the road ahead of you. 

His brows kind of pulled together and you took that as his thinking face. “I don’t really know how to explain that,” he started softly. “It’s all I’ve ever known, really.”

Shock had to have graced your features but you tried to calm your expression. While you recognized this was all new to you, it wasn’t to Dean. And you certainly didn’t want to offend him. 

“When did you find out about the things that go bump in the night?” You asked him carefully. 

“When I was four,” he didn’t look at you when he answered. Instead, his gaze went out the passenger window again as he watched the trees pass by in darkness. 

“Four?! Dean, you were a baby,” you breathed. And then you remembered. “You were four when your mom died…”

There was a moment of silence that you took as his acknowledgment that you had the right idea. But then, he continued. 

“My Dad kind of went into overdrive at that point. Trying to find what killed her,” he explained. You nodded as you tried to absorb it. When he didn’t offer up anything additional, you broke the silence. 

“You were just a kid, Dean…” you felt a pang of sadness for the man next to you. It made you angry, even. “No kid should ever have to go through that.”

“No kid should have to lose their parent to some supernatural asshole, either,” he said back firmly. You somehow knew he wasn’t upset with you by the comment, just trying to make you understand. “Seeing my Dad go through that, and having to make sure Sammy was okay…” he shook his head as he trailed off. 

The dots started to connect for you. Dad was busy fighting the monsters, Dean had to take care of his brother, you kept your thoughts to yourself but made a mental note. He had to be strong—couldn’t be afraid. 

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat and resituated himself in his seat. “All that to say, I don’t know what it’s like, really, to be thrown into this world that I live in. But I know it can’t be easy.”

“I don’t want you to worry about me, Dean,” you answered quickly, and you meant it. It seemed as though Dean was worried about protecting everyone in his life and being strong through it. “I don’t want to burden you with that.”

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna worry about you whether you’re sitting right here next to me, or you’re thousands of miles away in another state,” he looked at you when he spoke. “And it’s not a burden.”

“Can I ask you something?” Your bravery to ask the hard questions surprised you. Something about being in the car with him for almost a full day made your usual resolve soften. 

“Shoot,” he stole another glance at you. 

“Do you like it? Fighting…monsters?” You asked, for lack of a better word. 

Dean mulled it over before he answered right away. “I like helping people,” he said simply. “I like being able to save people so they won’t have to go through the same thing we did.”

“But who saves Dean Winchester?” Your eyes found him in the dark car once again.

“I don’t need saving, sweetheart,” he smirked again, a hint of confidence to his tone.

“Everybody needs saving sometimes, Dean,” you answered softly.

The only noise around you came from the hum of the engine.

“I guess Sammy does,” Dean looked out the window. You could tell he didn’t want the conversation to continue at that point, so you switched gears slightly.

“Does it ever scare you?” The idea of fighting monsters terrified you, but you were curious if Dean was ever afraid. 

He seemed to process the question like it was something he had never been asked, which shocked you considering the line of work. “I mean, I guess sometimes. Usually when one of us is in trouble.” You nodded, but he continued. “When one of us is knockin’ on death’s door, I guess that scares me.”

Each new fact you found out about this life Dean lived in brought on a new wave of shock. “Death?” You asked him as you looked between him and the road. 

Dean chuckled, but you could tell it was from him being a bit uncomfortable. “Let’s save that one for another day,” he shifted in his seat. 

Maybe that was a good idea. You redirected the conversation slightly. “Where does your fear of flying fall on the scale of being scared?” You smirked. 

“Oh, that one’s still at the top of the list,” he winked with a wide smile that reflected the light from the streetlights as you drove, welcoming a lighter conversation.

“But you got on a plane anyway. To get to me,” you stole another glance in his direction. 

“Well, yeah,” he said simply. “Sam said I should let it go, that something must have made you change your mind. But when I couldn’t reach you…” he shook his head. “I just had to be sure you were alright.” His words caused a flutter to form in your stomach, and you smiled, but that was shortly followed by a yawn that tugged at your jawline. “Getting tired?” Dean asked.

You shrugged a bit but couldn’t help the nod that followed. “It’s been a really long day,” you sighed. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“That’s what happens when shock starts wearing off,” he reached to place his hand just above your knee over your denim jeans. It was obvious it was meant as something comforting as his thumb traced small circles on the fabric there. “Why don’t we pull off? I can switch with you.”

“Dean, you need sleep, too,” you argued.

“We can stop eventually if I get tired, too. But I’m alright, sweetheart,” his voice was gruff and raspy–you could sense the exhaustion there, but you obliged.

There was a rest stop up ahead and you took the exit slowly. Once the car was in park, you opened the driver’s door to switch with Dean. As you both got settled in your new seats, Dean pressed a quick kiss to your temple before he adjusted the mirrors. 

“You just get some rest,” he said gently. 

You nodded against the headrest of the seat and closed your eyes. “Night, Dean.” It wouldn’t take long for sleep to find you.

A/N: Happy Thursday, friends! I know this chapter probably felt a bit "filler" with the dialogue, but it was important for the development of future chapters. I promise things will get more interesting in the next chapter!

Let me know what you think! I appreciate all the likes, comments & reblogs more than you know!

Chapter 9 will be posted on (or maybe before, TBD) Thursday, 4/25!

Chapter 9 Preview:

One blink, then two. The hum of the engine and vibration in the seat of the car reminded you where you were. There were so many emotions that coursed through you as you remembered: demons, monsters, Dean. 

Your nose twitched as you smelled the air and your eyes were drawn over to Dean. The sun was out now–high in the sky.

“Dean?” You cleared your throat as you shifted in the passenger seat to sit up fully. He did a double take and you saw the smile spread across his lips.

“Morning, sunshine,” the gruffness to his words and the look on his face made your stomach flip–or was that hunger? You settled on a mixture of both. 

“What time is it? Where are we?” You asked as blinked a few more times to try to take in your surroundings. 

“It’s about 8:30,” Dean answered as he glanced at the clock. “And we’re about an hour outside of Louisville, Kentucky.” 

“Jesus, I slept for eight hours, Dean! You should’ve woken me up,” you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and felt around your hair inconspicuously. You didn’t want to give away that you were slightly concerned with what you looked like after passing out in the passenger seat. God, what if you drooled?! You swiped your fingers across your mouth quickly. 

“Nah, you needed the sleep,” he answered simply. “You had a rough few days there.”

“Thanks,” you breathed. Suddenly your stomach groaned and you hoped he couldn’t hear it. “I’m starving. How about we stop and switch off again?”

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#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fan fic #supernatural ff #spn fanfiction #spn fan fiction #spn fanfic #spn fan fic #spn ff #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester ff #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester reader insert #taking chances

[proxima-writes]

✧*̥˚ my muses, acquired like bruises *̥˚✧

a collection of my fics inspired by taylor swift songs/lyrics, in honor of the release of THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT

JOEL MILLER

cruel summer | au | explicit | chapters: 6/6

Joel takes a contracting job renovating a master bedroom and bathroom while the homeowners are away for the summer on a cruise. He wasn’t expecting their twenty-three year old daughter and the thoughts he’d have about her.

↳AO3 | Tumblr: chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5 | chapter 6

crimson red paint on my lips | post-outbreak | explicit | connected work

Joel Miller is an asshole. You should have known better than to show up at his door with your lips painted red. Connected to me and the devil and marked me like a bloodstain

↳AO3 | Tumblr

marked me like a bloodstain | post-outbreak | explicit | connected work

You save Joel’s life when the two of you are attacked on a smuggling run. He has an interesting way of saying thank you. Connected to crimson red paint on my lips and me and the devil

↳Tumblr

karma is my boyfriend’s dad | au | explicit | connected work

Your boyfriend, Sean Miller, is an asshole. The one redeeming thing about him? His dad, Joel Miller. And he's just invited you along on the family vacation to Panama City Beach, Florida.

↳Tumblr

in a feud with her neighbor | au | explicit | connected work

Five times you think Joel Miller is the worst neighbor ever, and the one time he isn’t.

↳Tumblr

bonus scenes: in a feud with her neighbor | au | PG-13 | connected work

Fluffy bonus scenes for "in a feud with her neighbor" as suggested by anon!

↳Tumblr

toyin’ with them older guys | au | explicit | one-shot

Joel Miller is the grumpy bartender and owner of your favorite bar near campus, where you attend trivia every Tuesday night. Thinking there’s no way Joel could return your feelings, your friend suggests trying out Tinder. But when you bring them to the bar for a date, they keep leaving mid date with no explanation. Maybe there’s something Joel isn’t telling you after all.

↳AO3 | Tumblr

help me hold onto you | post-outbreak | explicit | one-shot

Joel always tries his best to keep his mind from wandering to its darkest corners, but occasionally, the frayed threads holding him together with sloppy stitches start to unravel. Sometimes you need to give him something to hold onto.

↳AO3 | Tumblr

seven | post-outbreak | explicit | one-shot

Joel Miller has spent twenty years pushing the grief and guilt surrounding the death of his daughter, Sarah, to the darkest recesses of his brain in favor of survival. Living a more quiet life in Jackson means the ghosts of his past have returned to haunt him. He finds his solace in you, the town librarian.

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the last great american dynasty | au | explicit | one-shot

Joel Miller has loved the historic Victorian home in his neighborhood since the first time he laid eyes on it. When the elderly owner passes, he thinks he might get his chance to finally buy it and fix it up. He doesn’t expect to find you, the granddaughter of the previous owner and trustee of her estate, standing in the way of his dream.

↳Tumblr | AO3

TOMMY MILLER

wrong place, right time | pre-outbreak | explicit | one-shot

What if Joel didn’t answer Tommy’s call from jail? And what if the waitress he’d been defending that night bailed him out instead?

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JAVIER PEÑA

i can see you (javier peña's version) | au | explicit | one-shot

When Javier Peña takes credit for your lead, you take revenge. Good thing you know Javier can't resist a girl in red lipstick.

↳Tumblr

FRANKIE MORALES

my tears and my beers and my candles | au | explicit | one-shot

It’s been a bad week and you just need to have a good cry. You didn’t expect Frankie Morales, best friend and unrequited crush, to crash your pity party. He’s got some interesting ways of making you feel better. Maybe it’s not so unrequited after all.

↳AO3 | Tumblr

invisible string | au | explicit | one-shot

After fifteen years, the invisible string that ties you to Frankie Morales pulls you back together

↳Tumblr

MIGUEL O'HARA

i can see you (miguel o'hara's version) | au | explicit | one-shot

As Dr. Miguel O’Hara’s graduate teaching and research assistant, you’ve spent years pushing down the inappropriate thoughts you’ve had about the brilliant, gorgeous man. But what happens when a late night at the lab and a scientific breakthrough leads to a breakthrough of a different kind?

↳Tumblr

EDDIE MUNSON

the mark you saw on my collarbone | vampire au | explicit | connected work

A snippet of life with your human and your monster. A oneshot in the bat out of hell series

↳AO3

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales fanfiction #tommy miller smut #tommy miller tlou #tommy miller x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena smut #javier peña #javier pena x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #masterlist #taylor swift inspired fic

[evangelic-echo]

ℭ𝔢𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔞𝔩 𝔓𝔲𝔫𝔦𝔰𝔥𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱

Part 2:

Part 1<

Only just leaving the pearlescent building you had entered this morning, it was now evening and the sun was visibly disappearing from heaven’s sky as hues of orange and pink start to appear. You hadn’t realised how much time you burned away trying to understand what type of predicament you had been placed in by your superior.

Walking now the opposite way you walked this morning, you were absolutely drained and could not wait to get back home. Where no one could bother you about anything until your next working hours the next following morning.

However once you arrived, you caught a glimpse of a certain grey haired exorcist angel right outside your front door.

“Luteee, what do I owe the pleasure? I never see you without Adam stuck to your hip- Woah what the fuck happend to your arm?!”

You looked down to Lute’s arm with an alarmed expression on your face.

“You wanna know what happend? You’re wondering why I’m not with Adam right now?! He’s fucking dead. Those fuckers in Hell killed him. Stabbed him multiple times with our own fucking weapons.”

You and Lute were never close friends, but always found ourselves in amidst each other’s company due to Adam. Lute was now crying as she was slowly dropping to the floor as you tried to keep her up by holding her up by her uninjured arm, trying to calm her down. Tears brimmed your eyes seeing Lute like this. She was always known to have a temper and being filled with rage, but in this moment all you could see was hurt. She wasn’t screaming in anguish or anything like that, but as she told you what happened her voice was all raspy and hushed, signalling that she had released all that anguish before getting to your door.

Adam most possibly the dearest friend you had up here in Heaven. Being your very first subject and only subject who didn’t subconsciously ruin humanity, you had gotten closer to him when he rose to Heaven after his time on Earth. So to hear you’d never be able to see his face again, or never be able to listen to his stupid sexual jokes again devastated your entire holy being.

You quickly situated Lute on your couch inside your home as she kept on crying. This is probably the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen her. It definitely doesn’t surprise you however, her and Adam were stuck to eachother to the hip ever since Lutes creation as the Lieutenant of the Exorcists, and besides him she had never made an effort to acquaintance herself with the other Angels around her, so you could say you were now the closest thing she had to a friend.

And honestly now you could say the same about her.

You had left Lute out on the couch last night as she was to emotionally unstable to go anywhere else last night, but once you had awoken this morning and went to check on her, she was no where to be seen. She was in no state being on her own this recent after everything. Worried, you tried calling her phone but after multiple voicemails answering instead of her, you quickly shot a message to her wondering if everything was okay. There was nothing else you could do to help her in that moment, especially if she doesn’t want it.

Carrying on with your morning, you had gotten straight to work by formatting all the notes and questions that were answered by Sir Pentious yesterday afternoon and you had to say, considering that he in fact had spent centuries in hell and lived a life full on sin, he was actually a fun guy to be around. A little weird at times, but fun nonetheless.

You were on your last page of notes before you got a knock on your front door. Hoping it may be Lute coming back from abruptly leaving, you rushed to open the door. Instead you found yourself in front of a tiny, flying cherub with an average sized scroll of paper in its hand.

“Miss Y/N, the great- high Seraphim has requested for me to overlay this very important message to you!”

Looking at the tiny thing unamused, you took the scroll from its hand as it flapped his wings to keep being at eye level with you.

“She has requested you attend a last minute meeting about the recent exterminations! The meeting will take place at midday!”

As you read the scroll in your hands you shooed the little creature away, you had never liked those tiny things. Taking its leave you closed your door, sighing as you walked back to your seat. You could already feel the headache coming on and today hadn’t even started.

Reading further down the scroll, you paused and one specific phrase that caught your upmost attention.

Y/N Diava, has been chosen to represent Heaven in this meeting about the most recent extermination, aswell as possible plans for future exterminations with the King of Hell, Lucifer Morningstar.

What.

In 3 hours, you had to find yourself in a meeting room, with Lucifer Morningstar…

The same Lucifer you hadn’t seen in eons.

The same Lucifer who manipulated Eve into biting into the forbidden apple.

The same Lucifer who fell from the Heavens and nearly dragged you down with him.

What. the. fuck.

You found yourself now spam calling Sera’s phone until she decided to finally pick up the phone.

“Y/N.”

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you Sera, when you told me I’d be in charge of the rehabilitation of sinners, I didn’t think you meant meeting with the big boss the next fucking morning”

There was a long pause on the other side of the line. You can admit that it had been a while since you snapped like this at a superior, but after the shitty 12 hours you’ve had, that was the last thing on your mind right now.

“I thought you could handle it. You said yourself you had moved on, or did I miss hear?”

“I did say I can handle it. I can handle it. But I would’ve preferred if you gave me some extra time to prepare, maybe at least a 24 hour notice would be helpful!”

Your sarcastic tone goes unnoticed.

“Well a lot has changed since our meeting, the exorcists came back without Adam and half their fleet dead! I need you to figure out what happened, and one thing that is for sure is that they do not need to know that redemption for sinners is possible! Is that clear?”

Of course she didn’t want them knowing, she doesn’t want anyone even up here knowing a sinner can overcome divine judgement and reside here in heaven with the rest of us.

“ I had things on the books Sera! I think you’ve forgotten I’m also the singular person here in heaven that overlooks the 8 billion souls that inhabit Earth.”

“I took it upon myself to free your schedule for today, I want you to get down to the bottom of what prompted hell to fight back against us after all these years.”

You paused for a moment, as you then started to wonder the same thing. Sure we were basically killing all the souls down there for no reason, but we had been doing it for centuries, so why now decide to fight back?

“Oh, and Y/N?”

You hummed in response to see what else the Seraphim wanted with you, her change in tone peaking your interest.

“I heard about Adam, I am very sorry for your loss.”

The breathe that you inhaled got stuck in your throat as you were reminded of Adam. Tears threatening to fall from your eyes as you looked down to your phone.

“Thank you Sera, I’ll have notes of the meeting to you by tomorrow.”

And with that you hung up the phone. It was weird hearing Sera have any sort of sympathy towards you, it almost had you questioning if it was really her on the phone you were speaking to. You angled your head up to the sky to stop the risk of tears falling from your eyes, knowing that once they fell there would be nothing you could do to hold them back, and you had a very important meeting with the King of Hell in the next hour…

You were now stood in front of the Embassy, you had never been here before but you were certain this was the link between Heaven and Hell. Stepping inside, the first thing you saw was a front desk made out of pure white marble with the same cherub that was knocking on your door this morning.

“There you are! You’re two whole minutes late! Get in there already!”

He pushes your shoulders towards the nearest door.

“Now hold on a minute-”

But he doesn’t let you finish as he fully pushes you through, making you stumble a bit once you entered the room.

Now panicking as you were just forced into a room with the King of Hell, fucking embarrassing yourself as the first time he’s seen you in eons was you tripping over yourself as a tiny ass angel-

Wait.

He’s not here?

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as instead of seeing Lucifer sat at the conference table in front of you, you saw a young, pale, blonde haired girl wearing a red tuxedo with two red dots over her dimples.

God, she looked exactly like her father.

A/N: Guys thank you so much for the likes omg we’ve gotten over a 100 likes altogether!! And now I’m officially starting a tag list so if you want to be included just comment.

Tag list: @froggybich

#hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbinhotel #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer x reader #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel fic #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin angel dust #hazbin adam #lucifer x you #lucifer x y/n #lucifer fanfiction #lucifer fic #lucifer fluff #lucifer fandom

[skbeaumont]

Texas Heat | Joel x Reader

Chapter 2: Same time next week?

Series masterlist Chapter 1 here

Chp. 2 summary: Your first tutoring session with Sarah goes as expected, until Joel gets home and sends your head spinning. Rating: Teen (for now) Tags/Warnings: flirting, sexual tension, age difference (reader is 25, Joel is 37), AU no outbreak Word Count: 2.4k A/N: Blown away by the response to my posts so far, thank you all so much! This story will be updated every Friday unless otherwise specified. Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for this and others.

Taglist: @mysterialee

The next couple of days pass by in a flurry of jetlag. The Adlers are nice: Easy to get on with, friendly but not in a way that makes you feel like you’re living on top of them. Connie’s cooking is good, if a little repetitive, and Danny is sweet and makes you laugh, telling you stories about his youth living in Austin. Nana doesn’t speak, but she has your mum’s eyes, and you spend the evenings sitting by her in the living room, reading the stack of novels you brought with you, enjoying the easy company and warm sunlight.

You see Joel outside through the window one early morning, casually ask Connie about him as you watch him load toolboxes and ladders into the bed of his truck. One kid, Sarah, a brother who lives with him, most of the time, no wife. This last shouldn’t send a spike of something like excitement down the back of your spine, but it does. You’d just assumed he was married when he’d told you about Sarah – no wedding ring, but working in construction, that made sense.

The knowledge that there isn’t a Mrs Miller makes you re-evaluate the car journey back from the airport, the way he’d let his arm rest along the back of your seat, that teasing, mischievous glint in his eye as he’d said goodbye, promising to take you up on your offer of maths lessons for Sarah. Those thoughts keep you up late that night, pressing your thighs together beneath the thin cotton top sheet in the Adler’s guest room.

Early Sunday evening you bump into Sarah in the driveway when you get back from Walmart, equipped with a new US sim card for your mobile. She’s sweet, even prettier in real life than in the photo you saw, not at all shy like you were when you were her age.

“Dad said you’re good at math,” she says without preamble, appearing from the side of Joel’s truck, looking at you with a sideways expression that’s a mix of consideration and incredulity.

“Pretty good, yeah.” You reply, stomach jolting at the thought of Joel talking about you, even if it’s to say something as benign as how talented you are at maths. “I’d be happy to help you out with homework, or whatever, if you want. I promise I’ll try not to make it too boring.”

Sarah smiles at this, the incredulity in her face morphing into approval, or as close to approval a thirteen year old can manage.

“You coming, Sarah?” Joel says, stepping out of the front door, head down as he examines something on the phone he’s holding. “Oh,” he says, looking up and seeing you, “hey.”

“Hi.”

He’s dressed the same as he was when he picked you up from the airport; dark t-shirt over faded jeans, the knees a little worn, but he’s wearing a baseball cap today, pulling his messy curls back from his forehead. You feel a blush inching up your neck as he so obviously tries to avoid checking you out in the tiny shorts you pulled on that morning.

“How are you settling in?” He asks, moving to stand next to Sarah by the truck.

He crosses his arms against his chest and the movement draws your eyes to his biceps, struggling against the tight sleeves of his tee. There’s a thin slither of a tan line just above where his shirt naturally falls, paler skin peeking out. It makes your head swim.

You clear you throat, refocus your eyes on his face.

“Good, I think. It’s a big change, but it’s nice. Hot, though.”

“Texan summers.” He replies, “Take a bit of getting used to if you ain’t suffered through one before.”

“I’ll say.”

“Sarah’s keen on those lessons, by the way.” He puts a hand on the girl’s shoulder, shakes her about so that she giggles. “Here,” He pulls out his mobile. “You got a US number yet?”

“Just picked up a new sim, actually” You pull your own mobile out, read off your number to him so that he can put it into his phone.

“I’ll text you later on,” He says, “we’re just heading out now.”

You say your goodbyes and leave the sweltering heat of the driveway, listening to Joel’s truck start up and pull off. Inside, Mercy greets you, rests her head on your knee as you collapse onto the sofa, clutching your mobile to your chest.

True to his word, Joel texts later that evening as you’re getting ready for bed.

Glad ur settling in ok. Would Tuesday work for math with Sarah? She gets back from school around 4. Joel.

You type out several draft replies before finally sending one that matches his straight-to-the-point tone.

Thanks. Tuesday works for me. See you then.

His response doesn’t arrive until the next morning, and when it does, your stomach sinks.

Sounds great. Will just be Sarah though, I’m working late Tuesday.

It’s almost embarrassing how disappointed you are by those last four words. In your head, it had been you, Sarah and Joel around their kitchen table, Joel’s toned forearms resting on warped wood, his deep chuckle in your ear as you worked through maths problems with Sarah. This makes you feel guilty, of course, because the whole point of this exercise is helping Sarah with her maths homework, not flirting with her father.

You fall back against the pillows of your bed. Around you, the room is already starting to feel a little like home. All of your toiletries are stacked up on the dressing table, and you’ve put your clothes away into the generous walk-in closet. Your books are scattered about the room, a few on the bedside table, another pile of them next to the full length mirror. The bed sheets are cool when you slip beneath them, bare legs sliding against soft cotton.

You stare at the green-grey light of your Nokia, looking at the last text from Joel, wondering if you should reply or just leave it. Best to play it cool, you decide, but restraint’s never been your strong suit and before you can stop yourself you’re typing out a reply, hitting the send button and grinning into the pillowcase.

That’s a shame. I was looking forward to testing your addition skills.

He doesn’t reply.

*****

Tuesday rolls around, bringing unrelenting sun and a dry heat that keeps you indoors most of the day. You help Connie rearrange her DVDs – an impressive collection – and take Nana out onto the porch in the early afternoon, waiting for Sarah to get home from school.

It’s just before four when she appears at the end of the cul-de-sac, hair bouncing around her shoulders as she makes her way towards you. She’s got her school bag slung over one shoulder, jeans rolled up at the ankles, a pair of scruffy Nikes on her feet. 

“Hi, Nana, Connie,” she calls as she approaches the porch, gaze turning to you, “math whizz,” she finishes, grinning.

“Hi yourself,” you return, pushing yourself out of the deckchair, brushing crumbs off of your bare legs. You say a quick bye to the Adlers and follow Sarah up her own driveway and into the cool, still air of the Miller’s kitchen.

It’s a little disorderly: there are pots scattered on the kitchen sides, and a menagerie of clutter on the table which sits under a window, bright afternoon sunlight streaming in. Sarah dumps her school bag on this, pushes a notepad, two tape measures and a pair of mugs out of the way so that you can sit beside her.

“Okay,” she says, drawing out an exercise book and placing it in front of her, “before we get into this I need you to understand that math is my weakest subject.”

“Right,” You say, watching her serious expression as she pushes the book across the table towards you, “understood.”

“And you need to promise me you won’t judge me based solely on my algebra skills, or lack of them.”

This makes you laugh, a chuckle bubbling up out of your throat. Sarah holds your gaze, her face still serious.

“Sorry,” you say, “I mean to say, I would never judge anyone based on their maths skills.”

Sarah’s face breaks into a grin. “I’m just messing with you.” She says, laughing at the look on your face. “I am pretty bad at algebra, though.”

She’s not. You work through a dozen or so exercises, helping her when she gets stuck, showing her where she’s going wrong, but she’s actually fairly good at the calculations once you’ve explained it to her a couple of times. The afternoon goes by quickly. After two hours or so Sarah stretches in her chair, yawning.  

“You wanna stay for dinner?” She asks, pushing the exercise book away from her. “It’s just leftover chicken casserole, but there’s enough if you want some.”

“Oh, uh, sure.”

You sit by as she reheats the casserole, refusing your offers of help. Instead, you look around the rest of the room, searching out little hints of Joel that are tucked about: A pair of worn leather sandals by the back door, two plaid shirts hanging on the back of the door to the living room, a battered, dog-eared copy of a drill instruction manual, well-read and ringed with coffee stains.

It’s comfortingly domestic, and it makes your chest ache a little, thinking of your mum back home in London, all the friends and familiarity you left behind. Then Sarah’s placing a hot plate of casserole in front of you, joking about the fact that you don’t look very much like a mathematician, by which she means you don’t resemble Albert Einstein.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You tell her, and she smiles.

“You should. You’re much prettier than he was.”

You help Sarah do the dishes, stacking them neatly on the side to be put away later. After, Sarah asks if you want to stay and watch a movie, and you both spread yourselves out on the sofa in the Miller’s living room, flick on the television and watch Tim Allen and Sigourney Weaver mess about in outer space.

Sarah falls asleep before the film ends, even though the sun hasn’t fully set and its barely ten. You’re debating waking her when there’s a rattling from the kitchen and the sound of the front door creaking open. Joel.

You hear him clear his throat, scrape his boots on the door mat and then his deep voice is cutting through the silence of the house. “Sarah? You still up, baby?”

Sarah shifts where she’s asleep next to you but doesn’t stir. You push yourself off the sofa, step into the kitchen. Joel’s pulling off a toolbelt from around his waist, thick fingers unbuckling the clasp in a way that makes your heart rate jump up.

“Hey,” You say, leaning against the doorframe.

He jumps, his eyes shooting up to you before recognition softens his gaze.

“Hi,” He replies, finally working the toolbelt off and letting it drop onto the worktop beside him, “I didn’t expect you to still be here. Everything alright?”

“Oh, yeah, fine. Sarah made me dinner and we watched a movie. Well, she fell asleep.”

Joel chuckles at this, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, she has a habit of doin’ that.”

“Work okay?” You ask, thinking you should probably leave him to a restful evening, not wanting to at all.

“Long,” He says, rubbing at the coarse stubble on the side of his jaw. “How did math go?”

“Good. She’s bright, just needed a little bit of guidance with it.”

“Always been switched on. Dunno where she gets it from.” He steps around the kitchen island, rolling his jacket down off of his shoulders as he goes, narrow hips winding around the island and the fridge toward you.

He pulls a ten dollar note out of his back pocket, hands it to you between two thick, calloused fingers. “For the lesson,” He says.

“You don’t have to, Joel, honestly.”

“S’only fair, darlin’” He proffers the note again and you take it, trying not to think about the way that casual darlin’ has gone straight to your head, blood rushing to your cheeks so that they feel like they’re on fire.

“She in there?” Joel asks then, nodding behind you to the lounge. “Oh, yeah,” You turn, let Joel look past you into the darkness of the living room, where Sarah is spread out on the sofa, breathing deeply, eyes flickering in the dull light from the paused DVD. 

As he leans into the room he steps toward you, the movement bringing him distractingly close, making you notice how much taller he is than you, how much broader. The t-shirt he’s wearing is stretched almost painfully across his shoulders, wear showing in the stressed seams. The patchy stubble at his jaw is longer than it was a few days ago, covering the sharpness of his jaw, the strong lines of his throat.

He looks away from Sarah’s form on the sofa then, his dark eyes flicking over your face, catching you watching him. You feel a blush creeping along your neck and up to your cheeks, and try to look away, but he’s holding your gaze, pupils wide in the dim light. Then his eyes dip down to your lips, follow the slight movement of your tongue as it worries at the edge of your mouth.

You can feel heat rolling off of him in waves and you wonder how it would be to push yourself up onto tip-toes and kiss the corner of his plush lower lip. This close, you can see the thin creases that line his eyes, the beginnings of grey in his dark eyebrows, raised slightly and pinching in the middle as he looks at you.

Your head is tilted up, your breath mingling in the dizzyingly narrow space between you. He clears his throat. You both realise, quite suddenly, how close you’re standing. Before you can say anything he’s moving back, tension breaking as he takes the white-hot heat of his body with him, leaving you flushed and dizzy.

“I should get Sarah to bed.” He says into the silence.

There’s a flush in his tanned face, painting his cheeks a deep red-brown, evidence that you aren’t alone in your distraction, in the surge of arousal that seems to be lighting you up from the inside. He runs a hand through already dishevelled hair.

“Right,” you reply, hoping he can’t hear the quaver in your throat, “I should head home.”

Outside, you rest for a moment against the wall next to the Adler’s front door.

Your heart is still thumping in your chest, each beat a reminder of the look in Joel’s eyes as he towered over you, his breath hot on your face, pupils blown wide because of the darkness, or maybe something else.

Before you get inside, your phone buzzes. The text is from Joel.

Same time next week?

You grin at the screen.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller au #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #AU!no outbreak

[obeymematches]

So I'm not sure if this one counts as a HC, but I was wondering what self-care tips you think the Obey Me! characters would have! Maybe it's a poor prompt so feel free to skip this one, haha. :'D Alternatively, maybe what they would do to cheer up an MC who had a bad day? As a general reminder you are incredibly awesome and your writing is amazing and I always love seeing when you've posted something new!! <3 If you want any character drawings lemme know!

hello bestie if you are reading this, don't stop🩷🩷🩷

it's been years (litetally 😅 you sent me this ask in 2021, sorry for not replying sooner 😅) but i been in the mood lately to write some more again :D ((i'm so rusty though))

i absolutely loved your idea + ngl i've been re-reading your message a lot, makes me feel so nostalgic 😅🩷 I hope life's been treating you well eversince <3 hit me up if you wanna catch up 😃

Okay so first I do the self-care stuff and later i'll do the other prompt 😁

Self-care routine / tips of The Boys!

Lucifer: • His way of self-care is listening to soft piano music in the evening, next to a fireplace. He is glad to invite you! • I feel like he also cares about what he eats, trying to keep it as healthy as can be. I feel like he loves to treat himself with some good quality fish? • Appearance-wise I think he doesn’t really care as much as he wishes he could, he keeps his hair and nails nice and clean but that’s like… very basic hygene stuff.

Mammon: • His self care routine includes ordering packages at 1.24AM. • Just the excitemenet of new stuff arriving soon puts him in a better mood! • He also cares about appearance as his side job is being a model. He is not afraid to use more expensive lotions, shampoo, etc. It has to be expensive but doesn't have to be quality if you get what I mean. • Him and Asmo brush their teeth most often (up to 2 times a day) • I’m 100% sure he would love the feeling of driving aimlessly at night with his favourite music on!

Leviathan: • I feel like he is the one who needs advice on this topic. • Yes he orders stuff sometimes but he is conscious about it, it was a well thought-out decision he made. Him deserving it wasn’t really the intention. • I think sometimes he takes a long bath, by long I mean about 2 hours, and that’s pretty much it for a month.

Satan: • He learned the most from Asmo; he is very well avare of how many lotions, masks, oils, creams there are and he tried a lot of them. • His favourite are hand creams, which he uses every day. • Sometimes he puts on a face mask with Asmo but to be fair it happens like 4 times a year so it doesn’t actually do much to him. • Otherwise I think he also enjoys a rocking chair on the porch, perhaps in the garden (not where all the bugs are though!) with an enjoyable book and some non-sparkling beverage.

Asmodeus: • His list is basically endless, so just a list of some he does every day / often: • Has to wash his hair 3 times a week, uses shampoo, balm, oil and is very strict about how to dry it. • Has a lotion specific to each part of his body, except his face because you can’t have enough variety of face-serums. • Takes long baths but careful! Too long is just as bad as too short!! • Likes to sunbathe in moderation on Dia’s beach • Having his daily beauty sleep no matter what • Goes shopping on the regular

Beelzebub: • Best bet is him making his comfort food and offering you some • Works out a lot of course, a heathy body is a must! • I feel like he is also into reading personal growth books? Like how to be a better person, how to be more in-touch with you emotions, how to heal from this and that • His place of self-care also includes your embarace. Pls just cuddle with him. That’s enough of selfcare itself.

Belphie: • Ah…about self-care… • Well I guess some extra sleep counts as such? • Loves to chill under the stars, very quiet and very peaceful place to be at. It really does calm his mind • Honsetly I think he is even worse than Leviathan • Please make him brush his teeth and comb his hair • Can change a lot if you influence him though!

Diavolo:

His tips are so extravagant you can't really try them alone...

Like ah! Just go on a cruise! Have a wellness weekend by yourself! Try some rare dishes!

Thank you bby i appreciate

He does take care of his skin and body and also his mental state through working out, quality lotions and self-help books, articles.

Barbatos:

Definitely bakes when feeling like he needs self-care right now!

He is more of a spa kind of guy, though obviosly he rarely gets the chance to enjoy such things.

Honestly he functions on the bare minimum, pls help him

Simeon:

Also well-read regarding self-conscious stuff so if you need advice on it please reach out to him! As a teacher he is going to be able to explain it easily.

Not much into appearance somehow?? Like yeeeah nail, hair, teeth always nice and neat but doesn't go the extra mile.

He'd be into coloring books to help him be in a relaxed kind of state! Though that is something only Luke knows about.

Solomon:

This man is a mess regarding self-care to be frank.

I mean he usually does as he wants, that's not the issue here. He just doesn't really treat himself as priority?

Okay he does care about the basics but sometimes he skips a day or two. He genuinely forgets to brush teeth for example.

More into the spiritual kind of self-care, mental state, personality, you get it.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me swd #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me beelzebub #obey me satan #swd obey me #obey me! #obey me lucifer #obey me belphegor #obey me hc #obey me hcs #obey me headcanons #obey me matchup #obey me headcanon #obey me simeon #obey me diavolo #obey me belphie #obey me barbatos #obey me brothers #obey me solomon #obey me undateables

[janeyseymour]

Won't You Be... My Neighbor?- pt 6

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.

Summary: Melissa is released from the hospital, meanwhile, JJ is located.

WC: ~1.65k

The little boy ends up falling asleep in the car, adrenaline leaving his body and pure exhaustion setting in. When he wakes up, he wakes up to nearly being thrown out of the seat of the car again. This time though, the seatbelt catches him, and while it burns like hell on his neck- because he shouldn’t be in the car without the seatbelt, he does not repel forward. He slams back into his seat with a loud yelp, and he hears a loud bang.

Joe just crashed the car. Joe just crashed the car into a tree on one of the back roads he was taking, and the airbags deployed- saving his life. With the fire-retardant that comes out of the airbag in a big cloud, they’re both coughing, gasping for breath. Neither of them are found by the time the sun comes up.

Almost as soon as day breaks, Melissa is awake, and hellbent on getting out of the hospital. She cannot lay here idly by while her four year old son is God knows where with her jackass of an ex-husband.

“I do not care!” she’s shouting at you. She winces is pain, but she doesn’t let the aching in her ribs put out her fire. “We have to find JJ!”

“What we have to do is get you to recount what happened last night, and then I need to find out how I’m supposed to take care of you while you recover,” you tell her as you lay a hand over hers.

“When are they going to get here?!” the redhead shouts.

“Hun, it’s…” you glance over at the clock. “6:45 in the morning. Give it time, and try to get another hour’s sleep, because once we get out, you won’t be getting the rest you need to anyway.”

She, in a fit of rage, slams her hand down on the call button on the remote attached to her bed. You close your eyes and take a deep breath at that action- so defiant. You wonder how she’s a second grade teacher sometimes, and this is a prime example.

The nurse comes in, and you just give her a sympathetic look as she’s yelled at in both English and Italian.

When the nurse leaves, somewhat terrified of what she just witnessed, Melissa just taps away on her phone before answering a call.

“Tommy, you better get your ass over here now to take my damned statement before I rip you a new one,” is what she hisses into the phone.

“Mel,” you grumble as you open one eye to look at her sleepily.

She just rolls her eyes and continues on her tirade in her second language. You don’t understand any of the words she’s saying, but you do know that she’s all but threatening this man’s life if he isn’t here in a flash.

And he is. Melissa gives her statement while the doctor comes in and explains to you her recovery plan.

“Three broken ribs is no joke, but there’s also unfortunately not a lot that we can do to help the healing process along,” he sighs as he rubs at the back of his neck. “For the first few days, icing it will help. As ridiculous as it sounds, we usually do recommend a frozen bag of peas because they’re easy to move and manipulate.”

You nod, taking notes on your phone.

“She shouldn’t sit or lay for extended periods of time, sleep sitting upright for the first few days- it’s best for her to keep moving when possible to help her breathe and clear the mucus from her lungs. If she has to cough, she should not suppress it. It will be painful for her, but we do suggest holding a pillow to her chest while she does to help absorb some of the blow. If we can prevent a chest infection, we should. And when her son is located, she should refrain from holding him as much as possible- straining herself is only going to make the recovery time that much longer.”

“How long is recovery time?”

“With the damage he did to her? I’d say four to six weeks, but that would only be if she’s taking care of herself. What does she do for work?”

“She’s a second grade teacher,” you sigh.

The doctor frowns, lines drawn into his forehead. “So I guess I should write her a doctor’s note to excuse her from work for the next few-”

“She’ll never agree to that,” you tell him. “She’s a single mother who is just doing her best to make it all work, and I can guarantee that she will want to leave her kids for that long.”

“If she’s constantly straining herself at work-”

“I can get attempt to get her to agree to teach from her chair,” you argue. “But that’s probably the best I can do.”

“I suppose that will have to do,” the doctor reluctantly agrees.

Meanwhile, JJ has woken up and is in the backseat crying, Joe passed out, who’s to say whether that be from the accident or the alcohol in his system, when a kinder gentleman who occupies the land takes note of the truck on his property. He slowly approaches it, but upon hearing the little boys wails, he picks up his pace, calling for his wife.

The woman runs up alongside of him, also speeding up when she hears the little boys loud cries. They glance into the car, and while the older man clocks the open bottle of vodka right away, the woman’s eyes go right to the little boy cowering in the backseat.

“Oh my god, Jerry,” JJ can hear. He all but curls into the backseat, terrified that whoever this is might take him even further from his momma. The door opens, and the little boy can feel a warm hand on his back- on that reminds him of his nonna’s. “Hi, sweet boy. You’re okay. You’re alright.”

JJ looks up, tears still pouring over his face, a thick trail of snot falling from his nose and into his mouth. “I want Momma!”

“Okay, honey,” the woman says softly. “We’ll get you to your momma. Can you tell me your name?” When he doesn’t respond, she says as gently as she can, “I’m Bev, this is my husband Jerry.”

“JJ,” is all the little boy offers up. She gives her husband a look and mouths, ‘9-1-1’. He trails a little further up the driveway to make the call.

“Is JJ your nickname?” Bev asks him. He nods. “What does it stand for?”

“Joe Jr.”

“And how old are you, sweetheart?”

“Four,” he whimpers out, but he holds up three fingers. The little one uncurls just slightly.

“Can I pick you up?” At JJ’s nod, she smiles softly and lifts him out of the seat. He cries out in pain at his shoulder. “Oh, sweetheart,” she whispers.

“Daddy pulled my arm,” JJ reveals softly. He lays his head on the woman’s shoulder, hoping to find some warmth and comfort- any warmth and comfort.

Jerry walks back up to the two. “They’ll be here as soon as they can.”

It’s a bit later that the police along with an ambulance show up and speak with the elderly couple and JJ. The older couple insists on riding to the nearest hospital with the little boy and his father.

Upon getting there, they ask the little boy basic questions. 

“What’s your name?… How old are you?… Do you know these people that brought you here?… What happened?”

While all of this is happening, a few others work on Joe- and they find his license. Joseph Schemmenti… that name sounds-

“Is this the man that kidnapped his son after beating the living shit out of his ex-wife?” one of the cop’s eyes go wide.

“Oh my god,” another gasps softly.

“Melissa,” you say softly as you drive the two of you back to your apartment complex.

“I. Am. Fine,” she grits out as she holds an icepack- one from the hospital, to her body. “I don’t even care right now. I just need to find JJ.”

“And we will,” you promise her. “We will find him.”

The redhead in the passenger seat starts to crack as she looks over to you. “What if… what if it’s too late?”

You take a shaky breath at that before uttering the words, “It won’t be.” She can tell that you’re trying to convince yourself just as much as you’re attempting to convince her. 

By the time that they’re able to locate where the little boy is with the elderly couple, JJ’s shoulder has been set into place, they’ve tended to the burns from the seat belt, and Melissa has been contacted.

“Tommy, you better have-”

“We found him and Joe in a small town out by Lancaster,” the officer gets out quickly. “They’re at Lancaster General Hospital.”

The redhead nearly jumps off the couch, and you have to catch her as she stumbles. “Y/N! they have JJ! In Lancaster! We have to-“ she wheezes for breath, gripping at her ribs. “We have to go!”

“That- that’s over an hour away,” you tell her. “You can’t possibly make that trip right now- not in your-”

“We’ll be there,” Melissa says quickly into the phone before hanging up. She’s grabbing her keys and slipping her shoes on before you can get another protest out.

“You are not driving,” you practically rip the keys out of her hand. “And you are not-”

“This is my son we are talking about!” the woman shouts at you. “I do not care!”

Knowing you aren’t going to win this fight, you grab a pillow and guide her out to the car slowly.

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction

[itaehynz]

three’s a (choi) charm! ˙ ⋆ . ˚ ☆

08. DO THEY KNOW?

warnings: written and socmed. (written under cut!)

2:50 A.M.

you have your airpods in, keeping all sound stored in your ears, away from the quietness of your shared home hoping to wake absolutely no one. your phone begins vibrating lowly, vibrations slightly awakening your senses.

incoming facetime call: yeonjun (tinder boy #3)

you gasp softly, getting up and walking out of your room quietly hoping not to wake yunjin.

you walk into the living room with quiet steps, seating yourself on the couch and answering the phone.

“helloooo,” yeonjun says shyly. you smile at his quiet yet warm voice, saying hi back.

“why are you so quiet?” he asks, raising his brow in curiosity. “why aren’t you?” you ask, he shrugs, flipping the camera over to who you’re assuming is his roommate, who’s on his pc playing whatever game.

“he doesn’t mind me being loud so,” he adds, smiling at you. you nod and hum at his response, silence filling the air. he clicks his tongue, “date with beomgyu tomorrow, correct?”

you roll your eyes playfully, already knowing what he’s getting at. “yes yeonjun, why?” he chuckles softly, shrugging his shoulders once more. “just curious, i would be the last person to know,” you scoff, “i personally think you’d be one of the first to know, actually.”

he laughs at your response, “why do you think that?” he asks, genuinely curious. you shrug, “well for one; he’s your cousin. two, you live together and three, oh this one is my favorite, you’re apparently competing for me? how’s that?” you respond, eyebrows furrowed.

he laughs once again, shaking his head at your words, “fair enough but all jokes aside, i did know, i just wanted to see what you’d say.” he smiles, blinking slowly. you roll your eyes at him and smile softly.

“you’re so stupid,” you say, making him laugh louder. you laugh along with him, his laugh being oddly contagious and comforting. “ah, really? would i be stupid for saying it’d be better for you to go out with me instead of gyu?” he questions cockily.

your eyes widen in surprise, caught slightly off guard. “i mean, it wouldn’t be stupid but it would be pretty rude of me to just bail on beomgyu after all this planning he’s done,” you reply, frowning at the thought of beomgyu’s reaction once he realizes you bailed on him for his cousin.

“y/n, i promise you, he literally wouldn’t mind, he’d be shocked that i was able to even persuade you and probably try harder next time, if he even gets a next time.” yeonjun says, exaggerating his words. you take his words into consideration, thinking hard on his suggestion.

“okay, what would we do though? like as a date,” you ask, intrigued. he seems to think on it for a few before coming to a decision, “there’s this place i go to, they offer couples dance lessons sooo if you’re interested, i can set an appointment for you and me? for 11 am tomorrow?” he asks with a large smile plastered on his face.

you scoff and smile, “we’re not a couple though,” he rolls his eyes, “not yet at least.” he says, making your smile widen. “look, i could schedule it and if you’re not up for it by 9:30 am, i’ll cancel it and you can go on your date with beomgyu, i guess. how’s that?” he suggests with the same smile that’s been on his face since the beginning.

you laugh quietly, “no need, i’d be happy to go. i just need to figure out how to tell beomgyu somehow…” to that, he rolls his eyes at the mention of his cousins name. “don’t tell him, we can do a hard launch kind of thing and tag each other on our posts, with a picture.”

you smile, shaking your head at him. “sounds good,” you say before getting up and walking to the bathroom. you sit your phone upright, hoping it stays. once it’s positioned correctly, you turn on the water, starting your skincare routine as yeonjun watches you in awe.

“are you getting ready for bed?” he asks softly, still looking at you. you nod, cleaning all product out of your eyes. he hums, eyes still locked on you. once your eyes are able to open, you catch him staring, “what’re you looking at?” you ask as he smiles.

“i’m obviously looking at you, y/n. you’re so pretty,” he says, catching you off guard once again. you feel your cheeks rising to a burning heat, but you continue to apply your skin serum with a gentle smile.

slowly but surely, your skincare routine is coming to an end. you wash your face with warm water and dry it thoroughly. you look away from your phone for a moment and look back to see yeonjun no longer surrounded by light, he’s now in the dark and laying down.

you begin turning off all lights and walking back into your room but not before shushing yeonjun. he nods and smiles, watching as you quietly step into your room and lay down in your bed, resting comfortably under the covers.

“do you wanna sleep on the phone? i’m not implying anything but i’m just asking,” he whispers. you only nod to that as you plug your charger into your phone. he smiles at you softly once again and you roll your eyes once more, “what’re you smiling at now?” you whisper.

he chuckles lowly, “it’ll always be you i’m smiling at, y/n.” you hide your smile and only show your eyes. his laugh increases in volume, never seeming to die down anytime soon.

you quickly snap a facetime photo of him, catching him off guard. “wait let me sit up and turn this light on, then you can retake it.” he says, reaching for his bedside light.

he lays back down and hides himself under his covers, showing nothing but his eyes. “mmkay, take it like this,” he says, smiling with his eyes. you smile gently as you take the picture. “i’m gonna go to sleep,” you say, eyes filled with tiredness. he hums and says, “me too, night night y/n!”

“night night, jun.”

—

MASTERLIST ☆ NEXT ★ PREVIOUS

TAGLIST: @https-yeonjun, @sugaringgcaramel, @boba-beom, @ur-mother-realnotclickbait, @nan-lzzn, @txtbrainrot, @soobsfairy444, @wonunuwoo, @coconutjjun, @headlockimnida, @dinosluver, @gwookie, send an ask or shoot me a dm to be added! ^^

A/N: “little beomgyu and y/n moment before their date 🤭” YOU’VE ALL BEEN PRANKED!!!!!i’m such a silly goofy goober 😁

#📸 ++ itaehynz. #txt imagine #txt reactions #txt fics #txt headcanons #txt fluff #txt fanfic #txt imagines #txt drabbles #txt scenarios #txt smau #txt x reader #choi beomgyu fanfic #choi soobin fluff #choi yeonjun scenarios #choi soobin scenarios #choi yeonjun x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #choi soobin x reader #choi yeonjun imagines #choi beomgyu smau #choi soobin smau #choi yeonjun smau #choi beomgyu fic #choi soobin x you #choi yeonjun fanfic #choi soobin fanfic #choi beomgyu scenarios #choi yeonjun fluff #💌 ++ threes a (choi) charm!

[redxwater]

Waiting Room (Chapter 3)

Leon Kennedy x F!Reader

Content warning, this chapter contains : depression, anxiety, self sabotaging, and bad eating habits.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - °

2 weeks later

“She’s nice Leon, don’t take things out on her. She’s worth something, trust me” Claire shares her feelings with Leon. “She makes breakfast and dinner for me” he says a bit uncomfortable. “I know, do you eat it?” The brunette asks softly. “Uhm, yeah mostly. Not because i want to, but i feel bad if i don’t.” He says in a bit of a small voice. “You’re doing good Leon i’m proud of you. have to go i’m sorry, i will text you, love you” Claire says with a smile on the other line. “Love you too C, say hi to Sherry for me” he says and hangs up.

He makes his way to the kitchen where he sees a nice sandwich on a plate with a small note next to it. ‘Morning :)’ he reads. He’s a bit overwhelmed every time you offer him things and try to help. He’s scared of fucking it up.

Leon only has 2 classes today and they’re both easy ones. He isn’t paying a lot of attention, he’s trying to figure out how to be friends with someone.

“Claire i’m really scared of fucking this up i don’t know how to do this” the blonde texts while on the toilet between his 2 classes. “Relax, if it keeps bothering you then you go talk to her.” they have a lot of contact, sometimes Claire wishes she had a bit less weight on her shoulders, but she knows he needs her. For now. “Okay” he just sends the text and goes back to class.

“Leon i got-“ you start as you walk into the dorm after classes and see Leon sitting on the small couch looking a bit out of it. “You good?” You ask and put a some books down. “Hm? Yeah don’t worry” he stand up and walks to his room.

You are a bit confused but try to let it go, maybe he had a bad day. You start making some pasta for dinner, grabbing 2 plates and filling both. You put a bit less on Leon his plate, in the 3 weeks you’ve lived together you notice that he eats less if his days are bad.

Knock knock

“Yeah?” I sigh comes from Leons room. I open the door and he’s behind his laptop doing some homework again. “I got you some pasta” you say softly and lean against his desk after you put it down. “I’m not really hungry, but thanks” he says and just looks at the pasta. “Okay, if there’s anything you can let me know” you say and walk out. Leon just looks back at his screen and continues doing his homework.

You turn on the tv and eat dinner on the couch, after you do some dishes and wanna grab Leons plate. He doesn’t answer after a few knocks so you slowly open the door and see Leon at his desk passed out on his notes. You softly try to wake him by shaking him a bit. “Leon?” You say softly as he stirs and groans. He slowly sits back up and clears his throat. He ate a few bites of his pasta that’s now cold. “Come on, let’s go to bed” you say and help him to bed while he’s still tired. “Everything okay?” You ask again just to be sure, i mean you care after all. “Yeah” the blonde boy sighs and tugs the blankets over him. It’s a good thing he always wears pjs when he’s in the dorm. “Thank you” he says before dosing off. You see Claire is calling his phone that’s on his desk. You decide to pick it up outside his room.

“Hi Claire, it’s Leon’s roommate” you speak softly, trying not to wake the blonde. “Yeah hi! Everything okay with Leon? We usually call around this time” she speaks with a small bit of concern. “Yeah he’s alright, i mean i hope so. I think he’s just had a bit of a bad day” you say while closing his door almost fully. “Why did you pick up?” Claire asks curiously. “Oh right, he fell asleep on his desk so i just got him to bed. Barely ate his dinner either” you reply with a bit of a frown on your face. “Hm, yeah it’s been hard for him. I can’t tell you too much, that’s his thing.” There is a brief pause before she continues. “Leon doesn’t really have energy to make food or eat it sometimes, so thanks for making food for him.” the brunette on the other line sighs a bit. “It’s not a big deal, i don’t really know him but i’m sure he’s a good person.” You say softly. “He is, i promise” Claire speaks with a bit of delay. “Goodnight” you say and hang up hesitantly. You put the phone back on the desk and decide to go to bed too.

The night is weird, you think a lot and barely sleep. You wish you could somehow help Leon, maybe let him talk to you? But you know he won’t just tell you things. I mean why would he? The only time that you guys talk is in the morning or when you make dinner. Which is usually you talking, Leon just says things like : “oh yeah” “thanks” “dinner was good thank you” but more than that? No not really. You’ve seen Leon outside the dorms a couple of times in the last few weeks. You notice he’s always alone, always with his headphones on.

You wanna get closer with him, i mean you really don’t have any friends here. Although there is someone in some of your classes, Jill who’s really nice. But that’s more a classmate than friend.

3 am, you wake up from half an hour of sleep, which is more a nap. You walk to the kitchen and see Leon sitting on a counter with some water and his phone. He sees you and looks up before getting off the counter. “Oh, sorry didn’t mean to wake you” He says in a groggy voice. “You didn’t, can’t sleep for shit” you sigh and run a hand through your hair. “Why not?” He asks. He shows interest, and it’s a bit strange to you. “Oh nothing too bad, just thoughts” you say and fiddle with your hands a bit. “Yeah i get that” he replies with a small sigh. “What’s up with your hair?” You notice his hair has been getting long and has some big nots in it. “Oh.. yeah i never have time to brush it” he lies, it’s not healthy but you know that. You don’t judge, he can tell you stuff when he’s ready.

“Stay here” you say and rush off to your room to get a special detangle brush. “Sit” you point to the couch and he slowly walks over. “You don’t have to brush my hair” he says and doesn’t sit down yet. “Leon just sit down okay?” you tell him and he obeys. You slowly and softly brush his hair at 3 in the morning on the couch. It takes a while and you guys talk about random stuff.

“Did you have any pets at home?” You ask as you brush a part of his hair. “Uhm, i had a Dog at my parents. She was a border collie her name was Phoebe, but she died when i was 15. She was old” Leon tells her pretty comfortably. “At Claire’s place we have 2 cats Lilo and Stitch, they’re black and white cats.” He chuckles a bit. “Awww that’s adorable! I have a cat her name is Reggie, we thought she was a boy when we got her” i smile and keep brushing his hair. He relaxes a bit more. “So do you live with Claire?” You ask softly and start on another part of his hair. “Uhm yeah” he says a bit uncomfortable and you notice. “That’s nice, she really cares about you i can tell” you smile and don’t ask anything else.

After a long while you finish and his hair is smooth again. “Okay now flip your hair” you say and he shakes his head up and down. His hair looks nice, but a cut would be needed. “We can go to a hair dresser some time, if you want to of course” you offer and stand up from the couch. “Maybe, thank you. I’m gonna go to bed now” Leon says and goes to his room.

He’s a good person.

#leon #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut #re4 #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader

[strawberriescherrieskiwi]

Can we get a sneak peak of any fic you're working on pleeeaseee

Here are sneak peeks from 5 fics I am working on without context or editing.

Fic 1

“I am only here because I wish to help you all. I don’t want any power or control. This planet belongs to the Fremen and that is what I want to fight for. For you and your people.” Paul took your hand and brought it up to his face. “I’m fighting because I believe and the cause and because I love you.”

“Paul,” you said, breathlessly.

“Each breath I take does not keep me as alive as you do. I live for you,” he continued, kissing the palm of your head. “Teach me your ways and help me prove to them I am not here to fulfill a prophecy. I am nothing but a man in love.”

Fic 2

A good wife doesn’t complain, she does what is asked and doesn’t ask for anything in return or question her husband.

But then he had the nerve to bring them to dinner with family. He had them half-dressed fawning over him the whole time. You sister was visiting as well as a high family from another planet and his attention was devoted to them completely.

He spoke so tenderly to them. It was one thing to know that he liked sleeping with them but that he cared about them, treasured them, and preferred them to you. It broke your heart, and you blinked back tears as you opened the door to your bedroom. You tried to slam the door close, but Feyd was right behind you and threw it open causing you to floor and slide across the floor.

Fic 3

Kyle narrowed his eyes at you. He hated not having your undivided attention. He never wanted to seem clingy even if he always wanted to be attached to you. Always wanted to be around you.

“So, then Aiden invite some girls over.” He started, leaning back against the sofa, trying to appear as causal as possible.

“Oh yeah?” You questioned. You were still not listening to him. Not when the main characters were about to discover their hotel room only had one bed.

Sucking his teeth, Kyle ran his fingers though his hair. “One of them tried to kiss me. And you know that I didn’t fight her. I let her kiss me,” he said, rolling his head over to stare at you.

You continued to hum biting your lower lip as the characters started to go at it. You were hoping your face wasn’t flushed and your breathing wasn’t too shallow. And then Kyle’s words clicked.

Fic 4

You avoided Paul. The talk with the Reverend Mother was anything but helpful. She believed in him, and she claimed you were the one to be by his side as he leads your people to freedom. You wanted to believe that. You wanted to be by your friend’s side, but in the pit of your stomach, you knew things wouldn’t be well.

With his mother now as Reverend Mother, you had no one to go to for council. You didn’t dislike Paul like some of the younger Fremen, but you also didn’t believe him to be the one to lead you. Or maybe you did believe and that is what scared you.

“Did you stay with House Atreides as a girl?” Chani asked as your group sat together eating. Everyone stopped eating and stared at you, causing you to feel self-conscious.

Fic 5

Groaning you grabbed your phone and grabbed your laptop and pulled up Pinterest and search cute pregnancy reveals. You scrolled through endless different ideas but none of them jumped out at you. 

An arm wrapping around your waist and a kiss on your cheek had you jumped. You didn’t even realize that you’d been searching for an hour or that Timmy had come home.

“Hey, bunny. Who’s having a baby?” He asked.

“Chalamet, what the hell?” You groaned pushing his shoulder and closing your laptop.

“What did I do?” He asked confused.

You pouted, moving to straddle his waist. “You ruined it.”

“Ruined what? Bunny, you are making no sense. I come home to see my beautiful wife and get abused for no reason. At least tell me what I did.”

“You ruined all my searching. I want to surprise you cutely and tell you.”

“Tell me wh- wait. You? Are we? No. Wait. Huh?”

#timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet imagines #paul atreides x you #feyd rautha imagine #kyle scheible x reader #dune imagine #timothée chalamet imagines #feyd rautha #paul atreides

[toasttt11]

sleepyhead

February 25, 2024

Phoenix had turned around and watched across the ice as Jamie fell on his shoulder and his hand quickly grabbed his shoulder and Jamie quickly got up and hurried off the ice and down the tunnel.

Phoenix bit his lip looking worried but knew he couldn’t go see Jamie until after the game was over so he pushed back his worries and focused on the game.

The Flyers lost 6-7 to the Penguins.

Phoenix rushed down the tunnel and quickly took a shower and got dressed and luckily he didn’t have any media to do that night.

He quickly hurried down the halls to the medical rooms and walked in seeing Jamie dressed in comfortable clothes and out of his uniform looking drowsy.

“Hey Jay.” Phoenix greeted him softly, Jamie slowly looked over and smiled brightly at Phoenix.

“Nix!” Jamie beamed happily and started giggling. Phoenix furrowed his brows in confusion and looked towards the doctor.

“He had a high dose of pain medication.” The doctor looked amused as he told Phoenix, Phoenix nodded smiling looking amused.

“How is he?” Phoenix asked the doctor and stayed standing next to Jamie, Jamie who was tracing Phoenix’s tattoos that he could see.

“It’s a lot better than it could be, it’s not a bad as his last injury and he will have a splint on for three or five days then he won’t need it anymore, but what he does need is a good night sleep tonight.” The doctor told one of his many players. Lucky for Jamie his injury could’ve been alot of worst and he shouldn’t miss to much time out for his injury.

“Do you’ve got him?” The doctor doubled checked with Phoenix.

“Of course.” Phoenix nodded quickly and looking down at Jamie and smiling fondly seeing Jamie so enthralled with his tattoos.

“Good, here’s a few more dosages of his pain meds he shouldn’t have any until at least 2:00 am.” The doctor explained and then handed the bottle to Phoenix.

Phoenix nodded and slipped it into his pocket, “Thank you.” The doctor nodded and excused himself out of the room.

“Alright Jay, let’s get you home.” Phoenix gingerly wrapped his arm around Jamie’s waist guiding him to stand as Jamie just let his head flop against Phoenix’s shoulder and close his eyes.

“Alright then.” Phoenix fondly whispered watching as Jamie closed his eyes and seemed to try to sleep on Phoenix.

Phoenix led them through the arena and out the back exit that never has any cameras and luckily Jamie doesn’t have his car here yet so Phoenix drives them around.

Phoenix walked them to his car and unlocked it and opened the passenger door, he gently guided Jamie into the seat and clipped his seatbelt for him.

Phoenix looked up and saw Jamie’s head flopped to the side and little snores leaving his mouth and Phoenix softly smiled.

Phoenix quietly closed the passenger door and walked around the car and hoped into the drivers side.

Phoenix smiled fondly seeing Jamie looking so soft as he is fast asleep.

Phoenix went the long way home not wanting to wake up Jamie until he had too. He may of continued to drive the long way multiple times so Jamie could keep sleeping and Phoenix really did not want to wake up Jamie if he didn’t have to.

Phoenix eventually pulled into the parking garage after a few hours of just driving around letting Jamie sleep in the car. He shut the car and hoped out of the drivers aide and walked around the car and opened the passenger door and he remorsefully had to shake Jamie awake.

“Hey sleepyhead.” Phoenix softly spoke seeing Jamie slowly wake up and stare at him. “Let’s get you home.” Phoenix gently helped a very tired Jamie out of the car. Jamie was just holding on to Phoenix as Phoenix led them to their apartment and holding up on Jamie as he did.

Phoenix opened the door and walked them in and shut the door behind him. He led them down the hallway and opened Jamie’s bedroom and gently helped Jamie lay down on his bed and Phoenix made sure all the pillows were perfect for Jamie to get some sleep.

He looked at Jamie once more and fixed the blanket that is covering Jamie before he turned to leave to let Jamie sleep.

“Wait.” Jamie softly spoke barely opening his eyes. Phoenix quickly turned around, “Could you stay?” Jamie soflty questioned and if he wasn’t so tired and on strong pain medication he would never of had the courage to ask his crush that.

Phoenix blinked in shock but nodded and walked around the bed and sat down on the other side of the bed.

Jamie slowly turned his head to his long time crush not that he would admit that, “Thank you Nix.” Jamie softly spoke his words slurring from him still being half asleep. Jamie has never had anyone take such care of him with so much softness and was jealous that he has never got to have Phoenix take care of him before because he’s perfect and that’s something Jamie is very appreciative of.

“It’s not a problem Jay.” Phoenix softly replied back and did not even realize he was bringing a hand up to gently brush Jamie’s hair away from his forehead and Jamie made a happy sound and pushed more into Phoenix’s hand.

Phoenix blinked in shock but kept his hand there as Jamie seemed to like it and gently began running his fingers through Jamie’s hair.

Phoenix watched as Jamie fell fast asleep and he gently removed his hand from his hair ignoring the pang of disappointment.

Phoenix pulled out his phone to send a quick to text to his baby brother to let him know Jamie is okay because he knows Trevor is definitely freaking out and extremely worried for Jamie.

Phoenix put his phone on the nightstand before resting his head on the pillow and slowly took a deep breath and was filled with the scent of Jamie from the pillow.

Phoenix fell asleep so fast in Jamie’s bed that he didn’t even realize he was still in his suit from the game.

#phoenixzegrasau #pz10 #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x oc #trevor zegras x oc #trevor zegras #jack hughes x oc #jack hughes #luke hughes x oc #luke hughes #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes #philadelphia flyers #flyers hockey #anaheim ducks #mason mctavish #brady tkachuk #travis konecny #nolan patrick #morgan frost #cam york #nhl x oc #nhl au #nhl blurbs #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #nhl players #nhl fic #nhl #jh86

[shaykai]

What if. Hear me out. It’s not likely. But what if all the scrying eyes in Moonrise belong to Gortash, including the one sent with Balthazar

#look listen I’m cooking #like man is a terrible ally you get into act 3 (spoilers btw) #and immediately have to go deal with the newspapers bad mouthing you because he told them to #and at his coronation he immediately steps between you and your companions (as a Durge. Tav doesn’t have to deal with him outting them) #and he doesn’t tell you about a bunch of shit like the iron throne and the fire works- and while they aren’t necessary I still want to hear #about them >:( #but. and hear me out. it’s heavily implied that the scrying eyes (at least in act 1. cannot speak for act 2) are Gortash’s #man found out his dead partner is alive actually and just conviently kept that to himself (assuming that Durge got caught by an eye) #(also side note this all also goes for a Tav just without the background friendship stuff) #but listen- him keeping the knowledge that durge is alive to himself to keep Orin and Ketheric off of them because they’re weak rn #and then conviently the scrying eye that went with Ketherics right hand man- who is on a mission to secure his immortality btw- just so #happens to die in the Shadowfell #and listen. that could’ve happened legitimately #but also I like to think he let it happen because he is- in a round about kind of a way- looking out for Durge #or trying to help a Tav because he recognizes Ketheric and Orin for the sinking ship that they are #(so were Durge and Ketheric to be clear Orin just sped up the self destruction by a lot) #anyways could be a stretch- (though I’d like to think it does that fun thing where it helps him and the protag so it never really gets #clarified as being straight up helpful for them #I just want him to be a half decent ally to Durge lololol #this was a random thought I had and my brain immediately decided it liked it #bg3 spoilers #Enver Gortash

[villainsidestep]

fawniel thoughts hour….

#gideon shut the hell up challenge #u can tell we are trying so hard to write smth bc we keep thinking up situations. but anyway #them just laying together asking a bunch of 20 questions type things #(he asks their favorite color and they laugh bc shouldn’t their ~number one fan~ know that already? and he gets embarrassed #and is like I MEAN I /DID/…. but that info is old !!! and I want to hear it from u ☺️) #(fawn says blue and he’s like 👀 oh really… any favorite shade…. and they’re like hm!! 😌 guess u will never know) #but danny asks if they have any siblings….. he knows they said they were part of a batch? but he doesn’t know how…. #(​‘tank babies?’ fawn suggests bc he’s trying to come up w a nicer way to say it but can’t and he does an embarrassed little laugh bc yeah) #fawn who has only ever lied to the rangers abt it (they grew up on a farm and had a large family sure but ‘no one worth mentioning’?) #(not ashamed of their siblings but scared to talk abt them. to show any sort of weakness. ric would have pried; he always does.) #and yet. sitting here w him now. not sidestep (either one) and herald. just fawn and danny. they tell him #and it’s hard to explain how you can know someone without ever Knowing them. how u can have names when all u have are pictures and feelings #but they manage. and when they’re done danny says that he’s sorry for their loss. the first time they’re ever heard it. #probs the first time they’ve ever genuinely Acknowledged it since they were recycled. and fawn says yeah. says thank you. says I’m sorry. #oh u thought we were done w siblings ?? sike . ocean and sunny u will always be canon 2 me