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strang3lov3 · 11 months

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Brain Scramblies

Joel Miller x Fem! Reader

Summary: Bubbly and sweet Reader slips and falls at Tommy and Maria’s anniversary party, hitting her head hard on the floor. Tommy tasks Joel, her grumpy patrol partner, with getting her home safe. In her dazed state, she spills to Joel how she really feels about him! Basically two idiots dancing around their feelings for each other

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Talk of traumatic brain injuries, but that’s it. Brief mention of smut but mostly goofy fluff. Joel is afraid of feelings lol

A/N: I actually don't feel fantastic about this story, but felt like you all deserved something new from me to satisfy the absence. Next week I'll have a bit more time to continue my bd!joel story and a few others! yes, the title is from wwdits. my other favorite show lol

if you like this story, please leave me a comment 🩷

masterlist

It’s a beautiful night, laughter and music fill the air of the Tipsy Bison bar in Jackson, Wyoming. It’s Tommy and Maria’s anniversary party and you were having a ball celebrating with the two of them. Tommy and Maria loved you, and you loved them. You often babysat their child, took care of chores around their home, and brought them baked goods and other treats. They loved you like you were their own.

The party was a blast, you spent the night dancing and chatting with Tommy and Maria and others. It couldn’t have been a better night.

Until you trip over your own feet. .

Boom. In one swift motion, too quick for your brain to process, your legs kick up into the air and your back slams the ground, your head following suit.

Your vision goes dark then, voices fading out. You feel a strong pair of hands grip your shoulders and jiggle your face slightly. You open your eyes slowly, blinking a few times, and the figure in front of you speaks. “Hey, now. Wake up, wake up, Jesus, girl. What did you do?” he asks, but his words sound muddled, like he’s underwater. “Maria, go get Joel. I think she might have a concussion.” he shouts in the opposite direction.

Your fuzzy vision focuses then and you recognize the friendly face and long black hair in front of you. It’s Tommy. You squint your eyes and look around, confused as to why you’re on the floor. The lights are blindingly bright and the music is blaring. It’s too much for your senses.

“Can you hear me, honey? You took quite a tumble and it looked like you hit your head pretty hard. Drink too much?”

You struggle to respond, finding it difficult to form words and coherent thoughts. You feel dazed and foggy and there’s a pounding throb at the back of your head. and “Think I tripped,” you finally mumble out, carefully prodding the back of your skull.

“Wouldn’t be the first time, you klutz,” he chuckled, tilting your chin and looking into your eyes. “Maria’s getting Joel, I think we’re gonna have him take you home. Infirmary’s closed at this time of night but we can get you checked out tomorrow, make sure you didn’t thump your head too hard.”

Joel. Your eyes widened at the mention of him. Now that was something your brain had no issue focusing on. “Your older brother, Joel?”

“Yes, Joel, my older brother,”

“I like Joel,”

“I know you do, honey,”

“I really like Joel,” you say through a long sigh. “Isn’t he just lovely?”

Tommy looks at you with an eyebrow cocked, completely amused by your honesty. Tommy and Maria had a feeling you were crushing on him, but you stayed tight lipped about your feelings for him. “Yeah, sure. Lovely describes Joel perfectly,”

Joel was your patrol partner. He was tall, handsome, brave, and skilled. He had the most gorgeous brown eyes you had ever seen, and the prettiest gentle curls atop his head. And he couldn’t fucking stand you.

You didn’t often go on patrol, but everyone pitched in with patrol around Jackson. Being so near and dear to Tommy and Maria’s hearts, they wanted the best for you and always put you on patrol with Joel. He’d keep you safe, they told you.

And he did keep you safe. But not without constant grumbling and griping about your sprightly attitude and constant chatter. He thought he had it rough with Ellie, but she was a walk in the park compared to you, with your sweet and pure heart and bubbly personality.

“What’s your favorite kind of cookie?” you asked him once while traveling horseback through a grassy meadow. It was a beautiful day, the clouds were big and fluffy and tall. The wildflowers were blooming left and right, painting the grass with violet and crimson. You held onto Joel tightly, pressing your face against his back. He tried his best to ignore how much he enjoyed the feeling of your arms around his stomach.

“You ask too many goddamn questions,” he grunted.

“That’s not an answer,” you scolded playfully.

Joel stayed silent. You were like an annoying, buzzing bee. If he ignored you, hopefully you’d go away. Easy, he thought. Just ignore the annoying, cute, thoughtful, and beautiful bee.

You asked him again. Maybe he didn’t hear you, you spoke into his right side after all. Still, nothing. “Joel?”

You could hear him inhale and exhale deeply. He was definitely ignoring you. That just wouldn’t do.

So you pinched his side.

He yelped in surprise. “Ow! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I asked you a question,”

“I’m not answerin’,”

“That’s rude of you,”

“Yeah, well, tough,”

You pinched him again.

“Gaah!” Joel swatted your hand, nearly losing his balance. “Jesus, fucking snickerdoodles!” he hissed at you. Oh, how you got under his skin. Snickerdoodles were, in fact, his favorite cookies. He wasn’t just saying that to shut you up. His grandmother used to make them for him and Tommy when they were young. His heart broke a little at the thought of her, thankful she had passed long before the world went to shit. “Happy now?”

Yes, you were happy. You rubbed soothing circles into where you pinched him.

The next day, you whipped up a batch of the best snickerdoodles Joel would ever taste. You dropped them off on his doorstep and left, not alerting Joel or Ellie to what you had done.

Ellie was the one to find your cookies. “Joel, what’re these?” she called into their home, shoving a cookie into her mouth. Joel looked up, rolling his eyes when he recognized the treats in her hand. “Give me those,” he grumbled.

He took one cookie and examined it, then brought it to his lips. He took a bite, and melted when he tasted the sweet cinnamon and sugar cookie, so buttery and slightly tangy, just how a snickerdoodle should be. It was soft and chewy, just how he liked them.

And dear lord, it was orgasmic. The best snickerdoodle he had ever tasted. He prayed his grandmother up in heaven would forgive him for enjoying it so much, but this was definitely his new favorite. How dare you weasel your way into his heart with baked goods? What a contemptible thing to do. He felt his heart swell at the thought of you and your sweetness. And it fucking terrified him.

Joel put on his boots and practically sprinted to Tommy and Maria’s. Without knocking, he let himself inside and sat down at the table with Tommy as he tried to catch his breath. Tommy looked at him with wide eyes, completely perplexed by his brother. “You have to–” he stopped for a second, breathing in and out deeply. “You have to take her off patrol with me. I ain’t gonna be her partner anymore.” Joel’s heaving began to slow.

“And why would I do that, Joel?”

“She talks too much,”

Tommy let out a dry laugh. Joel Miller, ever the grinch. Heart two sizes too small. “Are we eight years old? Suck it up, big brother,”

Joel shook his head, squinting his eyes and squeezing the bridge of his nose. “She fuckin’ pinched me,” Tommy opened his mouth to speak, but Joel interrupted. “Twice!”

Tommy smiled at the thought of sweet little you pinching Joel. “I’m sure she had a good reason for pinchin’ you. What’d you do to her?”

“I didn’t–it doesn’t matter,” Joel sighed exasperatedly. He had a penchant for the dramatics at times. “You don’t get it. She made me cookies.”

Tommy gasped sarcastically. “No, not cookies. How horrible, Joel! What should we do with her, throw her in jail? Banish her? Feed her to lions?”

“Tommy,” Joel warned with a low voice. “I am not doin’ patrol with her anymore.”

“Joel,” Tommy warned back, matching his tone. “Quit your bitchin’. She’s a nice girl, and you’re gonna take care of her. She likes you, why, I haven’t got a clue.”

Tommy knew the real reason Joel wanted to stop patrolling with you. He was catching feelings for you. And Joel reacted exactly how Tommy expected. He was frightened of these feelings, terrified to let anyone new into his heart. He already made room for Ellie and her bad puns, he didn’t know if he had room for you and your snickerdoodles as well. He did. You were already there.

Joel and Maria appeared in front of you then, your eyes brightening when you met Joel’s sour expression.

“What’d you do now, trouble?”

Trouble. That was Joel’s nickname for you. When he and Ellie finished your cookies, he returned your container to you on your porch.

“Thanks for the cookies, trouble. They were delicious,” he said, his voice was low and gravelly. “Didn’t need to do all that for me.”

“Trouble? Is that what I am?” you asked incredulously.

“Yeah, actually. Pinchin’ me. Talkin’ too much,” Joel did his best to bite back the smile threatening to form on his lips. “And now you’re tryin’ to make me fat, so yeah. You’re a troublemaker.”

Your glassy eyes scanned his face. “What did you do now, trouble?”

Joel bent down to meet your gaze and Maria checked the back of your head for cuts or swelling.

“Maria says you’re hurt. What’d you do?”

“I tripped and fell,” Joel scoffed. “Figures,” Joel pushed Tommy to the side, crouching in front of you. He took your face into his hands, checking for any other injuries. Your eyes were unfocused and pupils blown wide. He held a finger in front of your eyes, moving it from side to side. You had difficulty following the movement.

“Ouch,” you winced, feeling Maria’s fingers on the tender spot at the back of your head. “I think she smacked her head pretty hard.” she told Tommy. “Very swollen back here.”

“She’s not following my finger. Think it’s probably a concussion, but I don’t know for sure,” he said. “She seems pretty out of it.”

In your fuzzy state, you reached forward and held Joel’s face, mimicking how he did to you. “Handsome,” you murmured.

Joel felt his face go hot at your compliment. You thumbed his cheeks, savoring the feeling of his prickly hairs on your fingertips. “Uhh,”

“You’re so handsome,” you repeated. Not even drinking a barrel of whiskey could have pried that out of you. You did a number on your poor brain.

“That’s nice, sweetheart,” Joel turned his head to the side and coughed, trying to hide his embarrassment. He gripped your wrists and pulled your hands away from his face as you pouted. “Think she needs to go home.” “That’s right. You make sure she gets home safe,” Tommy said.

Joel looked up with a furrowed brow. “Me? Why can’t you deal with her?” his words came out more bitter than he intended, like taking you home was the biggest inconvenience of his life.

“Hey,” you whined. How rude!

Joel apologized quickly. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean it like that,”

“Because it’s our anniversary, and I told you to keep her safe. Remember? Come on now, Joel. Be a gentleman,” Tommy motioned to Maria to help you up. Slowly, you stood up. On shaky legs, you felt your knees begin to give out. Joel lunged forward to catch your fall.

He rolled his eyes with a sigh. Joel held out his arm for you and you wrapped your hands around his bicep. “Can you walk for me, trouble?” He didn’t actually mind leaving the party early. He wasn’t having too much fun anyway.

“I’ll do anything for you, Joel,” you erupted into a fit of giggles. “You’re so strong!”

Joel felt his face go warm again as he cleared his throat. Wow, you really did hit your head hard. Joel was used to being flirted with, but this was an entirely different animal. You hit your head so hard it knocked your filter loose. What would you say next?

His eyes darted to Tommy and Maria, who stood there watching you both, smirking. “Take good care of our girl,” Maria ordered.

Joel begins walking slowly, taking careful steps. You stumble along and can hardly maintain your footing as you make your way out of the bar. You’re still giggling and squeezing his arm. “You are so strong and so handsome!” you squeal.

“Jesus,” he whispered to himself. Was this real you or concussed you speaking?

You walked silently for a bit, gaining a slow and steady rhythm. The world around you blurred and moved quickly.

“I have a crush on you,” you blurt out with slurred speech.

“That’s nice, trouble,” Joel said, not believing you. You might as well be completely wasted, the way you were making no sense.

“I mean it,”

“I’m sure you do,” Joel replied sardonically. You tripped again, nearly falling over a second time. Joel caught you and held you tightly. Frustrated, he groaned.“Alright, no more talking. We’re playing the quiet game the rest of the way home,”

“Seriously,” you giggle. “You’re so fucking handsome. You’re the most handsomest man I’ve ever met,” You kept walking and stumbling awkwardly. It was as if you weren’t even walking, just floating along. Your legs didn’t feel real.

“Thank you,” Joel mumbles. He was never good at accepting compliments. But you seem so insistent on informing him of his good looks, he might as well take the compliments in stride.

“You have such pretty brown eyes. Did you know that?”

“I did not,”

“You do. And you have pretty hair,” you paused for a second, catching your breath. “And you have a nice butt,” Joel rolls his eyes, biting back his smile. “I want to have sex with you.”

“Woah,” he barks at you, unable to contain his shock at your sudden boldness. Where is your fucking filter? Is this even real? Joel will be thinking of this night for weeks to come. “You have brain damage,” he tells you. “Need to stop talking like this,”

“You have brain damage!” You giggle, your feet crossing with Joel’s. Bam. It’s his turn to hit the ground now. You couldn’t walk in a straight line to save your life, even with Joel supporting you. “Oh, shoot. I tripped you.”

“Okay, that’s it,” Joel stands up and without asking permission, he lifts your body over his shoulder. He tries to ignore the fact that your ass is so close to his face. You erupt into laughter, absolutely tickled by his actions. “I know this probably isn’t great for your head, but we need to move. Almost home anyway,”

“Fine by me, handsome!” you poke his back and his sides. He’s trying to fight off the tingles your touch leaves on his skin. “Are you gonna take me home and have sex with me?”

“Behave,” he warns you. “No, I am not having sex with you. I’m puttin’ you to bed and going to try to forget any of this ever happened. Now quiet, you.”

You let out an angry groan, but oblige. You’re running out of steam, fogginess filling your head even more. You can hardly keep your eyes open.

Before you know it, Joel is at your doorstep and sets you down. “Where are your keys?” he asks you.

You slap your thigh, indicating that your keys are in the front right pocket of your jeans. Joel pulls you close and quickly pulls the keys out of your jeans, looking up into the sky to avoid your gaze. He’d need to drink an ocean of alcohol to forget this night.

Joel fumbles with the keys, trying each one and jiggling it in your door. He figured asking you which key was futile, you were so far gone.

As he’s working diligently to open your door, you can’t help but sigh in admiration. His back muscles tense through his shirt, the fabric stretching and moving back. And god, his ass. So round and plump in his tight jeans. You can’t help yourself. It needs to be pinched. “You really do have a nice butt,” you whisper.

You reach forward and pinch his ass with your thumb and pointer finger. Joel jumps and whips around. “What is wrong with you?” He looks at you with a furrowed brow, but his frustrated heart softens when he sees your expression. You’re smirking, eyes big and without a single thought behind them. You have no idea what you’re doing. He knows that. The real you would probably die of embarrassment if she knew of your flirty and bold antics tonight. He can’t help the smile curling up on his lips. You have to mean all of it, right?. All the compliments and confessions. He knows they’re all true. At least, he hopes they are.

Joel grabs your hand and helps you inside. He leads you through your house, checking each door to find your room. He could ask you, but he really doesn’t want you talking. You need to relax.

Once he finds your room, he turns on the light, leads you inside, and helps you sit your bed. Your room reflects your personality perfectly, so bright and colorful. Decorations everywhere.

Then, he leaves.

You feel like crying. Your head feels so murky and full, and the pounding has worsened. “Joel?” your voice is thick.

No answer. He just left without saying goodbye?

Your bottom lip wobbles and you feel tears well up in your eyes as your heart begins to break. How did you even end up here? What even happened tonight? All you knew is that you felt cold and sick and all alone. Your head feels like it’s going to fall right off.

You sniffle and hear a thump in the distance. And then another. And another. They’re getting louder now. Footsteps.

Joel returns and your heart blooms. He always kept you safe, even when you drove him fucking nuts. Of course he wouldn’t just leave you. You see that he has a glass of water in his hand.

He sits on the bed and faces you. You smile gently, admiring all of his features. His scars, his freckles. His sparkly brown eyes. His salt and pepper mustache. “You didn’t leave?”

“‘Course not,” he grips the back of your head softly and tilts it back, then presses the glass to your lips. “Gotta make sure you’re safe, right?” He doesn’t let you respond to his question and tilts the glass into your mouth, forcing you to take a little sip of water.

“You take such good care of me, Joelie,” His cheeks turn rosy at his new nickname. How sweet it sounds from your lips. He presses the glass to your lips again and makes you drink.

“You’re so handsome,” Sip. “Did you know I have a crush on you?” sip.

“I did, actually,” Sip. “Now drink. You need to finish the glass.”

Sip. “You have such gorgeous brown eyes. Like coffee beans,” you whisper. Sip.

“Is that right? Coffee beans?” Well, that’s a thoughtful compliment. He doesn’t bother hiding his smile anymore.

“Mhm,” Sip. “And your butt–”

“What about my butt?” he teases you with a raised eyebrow. You won’t remember any of this anyway, he might as well play along.

“Like a peach,” “A peach, huh?” He presses the glass to your lips again, this time not pulling it away. You drink the rest of the water.

“What about a peach, Joelie?” you question. Your eyes are big and lost. It’s as if the last thirty seconds didn’t happen.

Your forgetfulness would have worried Joel, but he was no stranger to concussions. Had a few of his own. His daughter, Sarah, also had sustained a few concussions from flying soccer balls. She’d be like this too, acting goofy and speaking incoherently. She was always back to normal within a day or two. You would be okay too.

“Nothin’, sweetheart,” Joel lifts your legs onto the bed and takes off your shoes, plopping each on the ground. He pulls a knitted blanket over your body and gently leans your head back into your pillows.

You stare into his eyes, his gorgeous coffee bean eyes, let out a big yawn. Your eyes are heavy now and your head feels like a weight, like you couldn’t lift it even if you tried. Joel stares back at you, the gears in his head are spinning. He places an experimental hand on your head and combs his fingers over your scalp.

He continues stroking your scalp, soothing you. Your eyes fall shut, and within seconds you’re in a peaceful slumber.

He doesn’t leave. He stays with you for another minute, making sure you’re really asleep.

He still doesn’t leave. One more minute passes.

He’s still sitting there, stroking your head. He can’t bring himself to leave you. He needs to make sure you’re safe, just like Tommy and Maria told him to.

He’ll stay here all night, gently stroking your head and your back. Telling himself he’s just making sure you’re safe, that’s all. “Goodnight, trouble,” he whispers.

He’ll deal with his feelings later.

Part two: troublemaker

@swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @venusdemonroe @guiltgoldglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @oliveg95 @ifall4dilfs @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @harriedandharassed @vickie5546 @louisxosblog @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers @angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @ihatespoilers @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @sesigsss @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @palomaluvsdilfs @kyloispunk @tiredbuthappy @yuk-for-president @jazzy-music-cat

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller fluff #strang3lov3 #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #i love laszlo cravensworth #brain scramblies

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bowandbrush · 2 months

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so some of y’all liked the angst in my last post so uh here’s more ig (I get rid of negative emotion through scribbles so don’t mind me)

also my hands shake like it’s Friday so ignore wobbly lines

More info under da cut

(Origin of this whole idea below)

also his mask disintegrated lolll

So basically Leo is snatched and used as the energy source for the shredder. I feel like they would pick the blue goober since he’s probably the strongest both physically and ninpo-wise. Also I like to put him through the horrors

In main canon Draxum comes out the suit grinder all shriveled and weak, but due to Leo’s shell taking a lot of pressure, a lot of energy would be sucked from his poor innards, causing his lungs to collapse. He’s not as strong as draxum sooo yeah uehehe

poor Raph. He’s so scared for baby blue

Don’t worry, he’s fine. Nobody died. Lol I feel bad for making something this dark

#Do y’all have any AU name suggestions maybe if I do make this into a full fledged comic? (Someday)#Rottmnt #rottmnt art #rottmnt leo #rottmnt AU #rottmnt fanart #save rottmnt #rottmnt angst #bowdoodles #traditional art #Rise of tmnt #rottmnt sketches

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wutheringcaterpillar · 8 days

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Omg pleeeease I need a dark/angsty Tommy fic where he ends up hurting the reader? Like an argument gets too heated and he ends up slapping her or something. Like maybe she was flirting and dancing a bit too much with someone at a party they’re hosting and he gets jealous and drags her to their room, then they start arguing and he gets so enraged that he basically sees red and absolutely slaps the hell out of her (some non con/dub con smut after as well???). Just need some heavy, dark, possessive, violent, scary/mean Tommy Shelby 😫 The darker the better lol

Warnings: noncon, p in v + anal, physical abuse, degradation, threats with a gun, some blood play, misogyny, name calling

Hope you enjoy! Thank you!

Tommy watched from afar, seeing you and Ada drunk, giggling like a bunch of school girls at a table filled with men. He may not be able to control his sister but his wife was another subject. People were beginning to stare, especially the men Tommy needed on his good side for now. The dress you were wearing was skin tight, your panties just barely showing through the thin black fabric.

Tonight was a prestige dinner with delegates that Shelby Limited was in talks for business deals. The plan was too conversate, find weak spots, understand the patterns of movements, but the only thing Tommy was focused on was you, a long with every other man.

Even Arthur made a remark, a statement that angered Tommy even more. “Y/N’s quite the appeal tonight isn’t she?” Arthur chuckled, taking someone’s glass of whiskey and finishing it himself.

“What are you talking about?”

“Look at her, need to cherish her better brother before another man makes a move.” That was it, that was enough. When Tommy slammed his glass down and started to walk away Arthur pulled him back, pleading and convincing Tommy to just allow you to have fun for a night but he wouldn’t listen. Frowning, Arthur returned to the table, grabbing another drink whilst Tommy tried to keep his compusure. Greeting and checking in with the guests before approaching your flailing, inebriated body.

Three tradesman of London were in attendance, the blatant look of disgust from where they stood at the bookcase, giving your husband a look of disapproval before carrying on in conversation.

“Tommy! My husband, come here!” When you attempted to pull him down by the sleeve of his expensive suit, he pulled back, tucking his hands in his pockets, giving you a stern expression that told you to follow him.

Pouting, you crossed your arms, rolling your eyes annoyed, picking up a bottle of champagne before walking away with him, making flirtatious remarks to random men as you wobbled away until you were in the master bedroom.

Closing the door, you fell onto the floor laughing in a disarray of emotions, your vision blurry and your eyes dilated. Tommy pulled the nearly empty bottle from your hands, tossing it into the corner of the room before grabbing your wrist forcing you up onto your feet.

“What the fuck are you doing, eh? Are you stupid, is that it? You know how important tonight is and you go and fucking wreck it, bidding yourself off to other men when you are a married, taken woman.”

“Relax Tommy, we’re just having fun. What the boys can do whatever they damn well please but because of what’s between my legs I’m expected to just be formal, elegant?” Tommy looked at you with expecting eyes, not understanding where the confusion is. There were important men here tonight and seeing you galavanting around like some whore and being incoherently drunk made his blood boil.

Biting dowm on his tongue and locking his jaw, he pointed with dictation, sapphire eyes raging with fire as he seethed out the following words.

“Yes. It’s that fucking simple. You can’t even fucking stand up straight.” Scoffing, you tiptoed around the room, holding onto the dresser to keep your warm, sweating body from falling. The room was spinning but that didn’t change the anger from the double standard that was always set against you. You hadn’t thought before speaking, the words simply sputtering out what you’ve held in.

“You should be thanking me for flirting with them, without me you’d have nothing. I’m simply the means to an end to the shit deals you can’t make on your own.”

Tommy cut you off with the back of his hand slapping across your cheek ferociously, silencing you for good. Grabbing for the bruising skin, you looked back at your husband in shock and fear. He’s never, ever layed a hand on you.

When you ran for the door, he was faster, shoving the wooden object closed with his hand and yanking you back by the strands of your hair, pushing you carelessly onto the bed.

His hands tightened around your wrists as he shoved his hardened member upward against your mound.

“I’d have nothing eh? I’ll show you what it’s like to be treated like you’re nothing.”

Screaming hysterically, you wept as Tommy ripped the expensive gown, exposing the bare, delicate skin of your thighs. Hitting and fighting against his chest to push him away, he simply lifted his hand, slapping you harshly once more to stop the whining.

You pressed your hand gently against your temple, a headache forming in the core of your mind from the impactful blow.

Hearing the buckle of his belt, you panicked but were too weak to defend yourself from the man who claimed to be your husband.

“Maybe if you had just listened and weren’t a fucking whore tonight we wouldn’t be in this postion. Someone’s forgotten their place eh?” Pushing the thin laced fabric of your panties aside, he thrusted upward, letting his thick length penetrate you without any lube. Writhing and seething in pain below him, tears prickled at your eyes, not recognizing who was staring at you anymore.

Spitting at his face, he smiled slyly, a dark twisted grin bellowing at what you had done.

Returning the favor he spat back, hitting you once more with a forceful, strong slap that echoed through the room and knocked out your hearing in one ear.

“Don’t forget sweetheart. I own you, you’re my property.” Wrapping his hands around your throat, you struggled for air as he drilled into your dry cunt, shredding open the sensitive skin like a grater would cheese. Blood slowly leaked out from your pussy, the ability to scream non existent as your airway was constricted, bruising as his nails dug into your skin.

When your hands reached up to try to push him away from your neck, desperate for air, he shed himself of his tie, wrapping the fabric around your wrists tightly to the headboard and shoved his underwear in your mouth.

Slapping your cunt repeatedly, he mocked your whimpers, feeling your walls slowly start to produce your sweet syrup against your will.

“How pathetic, is this what you wanted? Someone likes me cock, who knew my wife was a little fucking whore.” Screeching beneath the makeshift gag, your skin seethed in pain, wanting nothing more for this to be over.

His hands grasped at your breasts, tugging and pulling at your nipples, smitten by how easily your body gave in to him.

Flipping you over onto your stomach, he spread your ass cheeks, pulling the fatty skin apart finding that tight, untouched hole you’d been denying him for so many years, now he was going to take it for himself.

There was nowhere for you to go, your eyes searched, panicked looking for anything to get you out of these bindings, but there was nothing.

Aligning himself with your taint, you could feel the rounded head of his shaft resting at your virgin entrance. Every bone and muscle in your violated body tensed when his head pushed through your strained, congested walls. You screamed in agony as he wasted no time burying himself balls deep in your taint.

“Oh fuck…Didn’t know you could feel this good love. My little slave, that ass devouring me cock. About time I reminded you of your place. Nothing but a slut, a mere stupid little bitch.” He moaned in between thrusts as he fucked your anus, pounding your ass up and down on his shaft while holding the cheeks of your ass roughly. The sporadic pain was different than your pussy, far more intensified. It didn’t feel like stinging anymore, the size of his penis sent flames of fire through your hole.

When he buried his neck into the crook of your neck while he continued to pump relentlessly into you. You fumbled with the bindings while he wasn’t paying attention.

Realessing a choked sob, you were on the verge of being free, fidgeting with the tight knot with a tremendous effort, working over the fabric through the tears and painful agony, but you weren’t as smooth as you thought. Tommy’s hand shot up, slamming down on yours and pulled you arms behind your back, causing the gag to fall out in the process.

“Help! Help! Ah-“ Striking you in the back of your waeay head, he shoved his fingers between your lips, invading your mouth and pulling at the sides of your lips.

“Shut the fuck up. Listen to me, are you listening sweetheart?” You whimpered through his fingers, nodding your head, squeezing your eyes closed in a pained expression when he thrusted his cock violently with a force of strength and dominance.

“No one is coming to your rescue, you belong to me, and I have the right to use and abuse my property all I want and you will listen, or suffer the consequences as you are right now. Get up.” Tommy pulled you onto his lap, reinserting his lengthy shaft into your soaking wet walls. You mewled from the discomfort, struggling to make eye contact with Tommy.

His lips connected to your hardened nipples, biting down on the flesh harshly, aiming to draw blood. Slapping you across the face once again, your head whipped to the other side fiercly.

“Ride me. Go on, you claim to be so great in bed to those men out there. Can’t treat your husband the same?” Another backhand, before his hand gripped the fat of your ass cheeks, slamming you up and down on his cock, an immense joy curdling within him from seeing your pathetic tears.

Then an idea struck you, if you’r just get him off surely he’d let you go. A satisfied grin spread across his face when you began to rotate your hips, staring slowly at first before picking up speeding.

“Ah, fuck, that’s it love. Show me what that worthless cunt can do.” You continued to whine and whimper as you rode his cock, your ass landing on his thighs with each powerful bounce, your breasts flying up and down for his amusement.

You could feel him begin to pulsate, he was close, very close.

Arching your back, Tommy focused in on your pussy devouring his lengthy member with each pivotal motion of your hips. Your walls tightened, constricting his length, and within seconds his seed was filling your tortured void, flooding into your ovaries.

At that moment you moved as fast as lightning, taking the lamp and smashing it over his head to try to escape his bitter soul. Rushing to put clothes on, you ran to the door, thinking that someone would help you but Tommy wasn’t weak and you were nowhere nearly as strong as him. He was quick to recover, but not as quick as you. Throwing on a nightshirt and slipping on the closest thing to work as underwear, you opened the door just nearly out when Tommy pulled on his pants, rolling over the bed and running, rushing toward you, slamming the door closed once again.

You punched the door in defeat, frightened to turn around until he forced you to, pulling out something you’d never thought he’d use as a threat to you.

“If you think I am playing some sort of sick game, you are sadly mistaken sweetheart. Now get back on the fucking bed, you’ve done enough tonight.” Removing the safety, he pointed the gun directly on the middle of your forehead, the cool metal barrel sending chills down your spine. Is this what your marriage had come to? How were you supposed to move forward from this catastrophic night? Surely people would notice the bruises but then again, no one ever questioned Tommy Shelby, not anyone that gave a shit about their life.

Surrendering you rose your arms, the shaking of your trembling hands visible. The man facing you, you no longer recognized. There was no guilt, or shame, or any type of love present in those venomous, frigid eyes, he really wasn’t joking. Making your way back to the bed, you tucked your head onto the pillow, weeping relentlessly into the case of the feathered object. Tommy layed the gun down on the table, taking a seat beside you. You flinched away from his cold, heartless touch, terrified of what was to come next.

“I need to go back and entertain our guests. You stay here and be good. Can you do that?” He twisted your labia, pinching the sensitive skin, causing you a tremendous amount of pain, reminding you what could happen if you don’t listen.

Nodding with fearful, tired eyes, you watched as Tommy dressed himself, and stayed in your fragile position on the soiled sheets, eventually crying yourself to sleep in the dark room.

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby #ranaewrites #peaky blinders #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #requested

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baek-at-it-again95 · 5 months

Text

We Know

Pairings: park seonghwa x fem reader x choi san

genres/content: action, agent au, mafia au? rivalry, leader bang chan, angry seonghwa, y/n is san's weakness lol

Warnings: profanity, violence, weapons, suggestive content!! please take care of yourselves <3

A/N: I am nervous about this one y'all 😳 I've never written something like this before, but it ended up being so fun! This is for my friends, @milfks and L, who had these wonderful ideas! Love you two lots <3

Synopsis: Tonight's mission is in your hands, and you're eager to prove that you're capable of handling it on your own. Unfortunately, your plans are interrupted a bit sooner than you expected.

***

"I've got eyes on him," you mumble, pretending to fix your diamond earring as you adjust your earpiece. Surveying from the platform of the mansion's grand staircase, your eyes follow a man in a black suit as he turns the corner and disappears down a far hallway.

Chan's sigh rings in your earpiece. "Be careful."

"I can handle myself. Trust me."

"I trust you, Y/N. You know that. It's everyone else that I don't trust. It's your first time unaccompanied," Chan says.

"Like I said, I can handle it. Besides, the boys are always out by themselves and they're just fine." If you could see Chan right now, you know he'd be pinching the bridge of his nose out of stress, holding back from giving you a lecture on why your situation is different from theirs. You know his concern is out of love, and he would blame himself if anything were ever to happen to you. But this is your chance to prove yourself. Tonight, you'll be participating in an auction to get your hands on the Cromer, a powerful artifact that can control time. It's been rumored that ATEEZ has their sights set on it as well, so Chan had you do as much research on them as possible. Unfortunately for you, they're quite good at covering their tracks and keeping their identities under wraps. You know only a few of their names and faces, so you'll need to be extra careful about your approach to this.

The auction will begin in about an hour, and you'd rather not hear a lecture from Chan. "I'm going in," you whisper. Your black dress flatters your figure perfectly, and you're excited to show it off tonight. With a deep breath, you make your way down the staircase, your heels silent on the expensive red carpet.

Clusters of people stand together around the large space, sipping champagne and chatting amongst themselves. Many wives have separated into groups away from their husbands, who go on and on about their latest business ventures and investments. Understandable—how boring. You greet some people as you go, your charming smile in effect as their eyes land on you. One woman compliments your dress as you pass by, and you enthusiastically return her compliment, telling her that her own dress brings out her eyes. She blushes and tells you it's custom made, which basically means "my dress is worth twice as much as the average person's monthly paycheck."

You continue to weave through the crowds and admittedly get a bit distracted, still thinking about the woman's compliment. As you turn into the hallway you witnessed your target disappear into, you bump straight into an oncoming person. A strong arm wraps around your waist before you can lose balance on your high heels.

"Woah there, doll. Straying too far, are we?" A tall man with dark hair looks down at you, his eyebrows raised.

Park Seonghwa. Just the man you were looking for.

"My apologies sir," you say quietly, feigning innocence and avoiding his eyes. His arm leaves your waist after steadying you. "I was wandering in hopes of finding a vacant room to lie down...I'm afraid I've had a bit too many drinks too early in the night." You stumble for dramatic effect, hoping he'll eat up your lies. "I have to sober up before the auction," you say, shaking your head. "Daddy will throw a fit if I spend all his money tonight."

The man looks amused. "Yeah? Better be careful, princess."

"I can handle myself," you say for the second time tonight, stepping closer to trace the pads of your manicured fingers over the fabric on his chest. He tilts your chin up gently, and you meet his intense gaze. He's breathtaking. Suddenly, you have an idea that seems much more fun than your previous plans.

Sorry Chan, you think as you press yourself against Seonghwa.

***

You didn't find anything of importance on Seonghwa's person, but you did manage to slip a tracking device into his suit pocket. Chan should be able to access his location any minute now.

You enter the auction room fifteen minutes before the event is scheduled to start, scanning the tables for your seat. It's dimly lit, a majority of the lighting coming from a screen behind the stage. You don't see Seonghwa seated anywhere yet.

"And what are the starting bids on you, lovely?" a low voice asks, breath tickling your ear. You turn to look at the owner of the voice, his strong facial features almost as striking as his neatly-styled red hair. He's practically undressing you with his eyes, and you can't say you hate it.

"Whatever you've got to offer, pretty boy," you reply sweetly. He smirks, pleased with himself as one of his hands finds your waist.

"My friend says you're not as innocent as you look."

"Pardon?" you ask. The man turns you around, your back against his broad chest as his free hand reaches up to your ear. Before you know it, your earpiece is on the ground in front of you, crushed beneath a polished designer shoe. Looking up, you see that the shoe belongs to none other than Park Seonghwa. Of course they're working together.

You freeze as something cold presses to the exposed small of your back.

Fuck.

"One wrong move and you're done for, princess," the man with red hair says calmly, lowering himself back down to your ear. "Try to cause a scene and innocent people will pay the price."

You take a deep breath before nodding your head in submission. You slowly turn back around and watch as he returns his gun to his shoulder holster, his expensive blazer completely concealing it. No one around you sees the ordeal, too distracted and eager to spend their money. The man then puts his arm around your shoulders, leading you out of the auction room. Seonghwa follows close behind, making sure you aren't able to slip away. You have no idea if he is armed at this point in time.

You're led into a large meeting room at the very end of the upstairs corridor, the bright moonlight seeping through the open balcony doors and illuminating the glossy wooden table at the center of the room. You catch a glimpse of the pretty garden below the balcony before the man guiding you throws you to the floor. You can feel the bruises forming on your knees instantly.

You don't dare fight back yet—your training in hand-to-hand combat doesn't do shit when your opponents are armed with guns, of course. You would attempt it if he were alone, but with Seonghwa present and potentially armed, you'd rather feel the situation out.

God, Chan will never let you out onto the field again. He's probably losing his mind now that you've lost contact with each other. Not to mention the fact that you were busted before you even had a chance to get what you came here for. The auction is going to start any minute, and now you're certain there are other ATEEZ members in the auction room that are ready to claim the Cromer instead of you.

You're angry with yourself for not being more prepared with your own weapon, but your favorite handgun unfortunately didn't fit under your dress of choice. You sigh to yourself. At least you look good in it.

"Give it up, sweetheart. We know what's going on here," the man with red hair says. Seonghwa locks the door behind him before speaking.

"I saw your wolf tattoo, and I've seen only one other just like it. You're working with Bang Chan," he states, is emotions unreadable.

No. You had forgotten to conceal your waist tattoo since your dress fully covers it. You hadn't expected to completely remove your dress tonight. Rookie mistake. You should expect everything.

"All this over a tattoo?" You eye him, downplaying the situation.

"How brave of you to interfere with our operation by yourself," the other man comments, ignoring your previous sentence. "No back up here to save you, huh?"

"Oh, you don't really believe she's here alone, do you, San?" Seonghwa asks. Choi San. You recognize that name. Seonghwa comes over to you, a completely different aura surrounding him now. He's intimidating, gripping your chin with much more force than he had earlier. "Be a good girl and tell us where your friends are, yeah? Don't make things difficult." A chill runs down your spine at his threat.

"I'm not here with anyone," you state. It's the truth. Even though Chan had insisted he wait in his car nearby, you convinced him to stay and monitor operations from your base. If you don't make contact within the next hour or two, he'll know something is wrong and follow Seonghwa's location.

"Wrong answer, princess." He grips your hair harshly and you wince. "I have a hard time believing that they would put you in a situation like this without back up. Where are they?"

It's sweet of him to underestimate you, honestly. You got yourself into this situation, and you're sure as hell going to get yourself out. You're already halfway done formulating your escape plan. "I said they're not here," you answer again. He lets go of your hair with a hiss.

"It would pain me to ruin such a pretty face...I think we'll let the boss deal with you."

The boss? Chan told you that no one knows the leader of ATEEZ—it's safe to assume that anyone who's seen him hasn't lived to tell the tale. You're not sure if he'll have any mercy at all to offer you. But maybe these two still have some in them.

"No, please!" you plead, your fists balled up as they rest on your thighs. "If I tell you where they are, will you go easy on me?" You let your head hang low, looking at the floor. San lowers himself in front of you and you find his eyes. You blink, letting a few tears slip down your cheeks.

"Sure, doll face. We will." You look away from him to briefly meet eyes with Seonghwa. He still stands at full height, arms crossed as he looks down at you. Perhaps it's your tears making your vision blurry, but you swear his gaze softens at the sight of you. You look back to San, sniffling.

"You promise?"

Now, never ever would someone in their right mind trust a promise from someone like them. But you're not planning on following through with your own side of the promise, either. Two can play at this game. You would never jeopardize the safety of SKZ...you told Chan you could handle yourself and you meant it.

"Promise," San says. He's truly something else, radiating such strong and convincing charm. You would fall for his promise in a heartbeat if you didn't know who he really was.

As you slowly rise from your knees, San stands with you. "They made me do it," you confess, more tears spilling from your eyes and taking your favorite mascara with them. "They said they would kill me if I didn't," you whisper, looking away.

"It's okay, doll," San says, coming closer to comfort you. You flinch before he touches you. "Just tell us where they are, okay? We'll help you." You bury yourself in his chest, your frame shaking in his arms as you cry quietly.

Your best performance yet, if you say so yourself.

After a long minute in his embrace, you begin to pull away. In the process, you grab the gun out of San's shoulder holster and hold the barrel to the center of his chest. He curses under his breath, raising his arms in defeat. You slowly step backwards, turning your aim to Seonghwa as a warning not to try anything, and then returning your aim to San. Seonghwa makes no attempt to grab for anything, so now you know for a fact that he is unarmed.

"I told you the first time that there's no one here with me." You smile. "But it's nice to discover that you both have a heart."

"Tell Chan we said hi," Seonghwa replies, irritated.

"Of course, it would be rude of me not to. It's truly been a pleasure, boys." You give Seonghwa a wink. "We'll meet again, right? Maybe you can introduce me to your boss next time."

You've backed up far enough to step onto the balcony, assessing the situation above and below. The garden below is deserted now that the auction has started, but it's a far drop to the ground. There is another balcony above you, but it seems a bit too high for you to escape to. You're trapped, so you're going to have to pull this off fast to avoid getting hurt.

All you can hear is the sound of your own heartbeat as you throw the gun over the railing into the garden. If you slip up, they could get their hands on it again, and you cannot let that happen. You'll fight the real way if you must.

As soon as it leaves your hands, the men launch at you. You quickly dodge them, ducking under San's punch and managing to sweep Seonghwa's leg, knocking him to the ground. Now that they're both on the balcony, you run back inside, shutting the french doors and locking them behind you. You know it will barely do anything to set them back—they could easily break them down if they wanted to. Through the glass, you watch as San pulls Seonghwa off the ground and looks at you. He doesn't make an immediate effort to get inside.

Is he letting you go?

You shouldn't wait around any longer to find out. You blow him a kiss before taking your exit out into the main hall.

But after stepping out, you see why they let you go...

#ateez au #ateez x reader #ateez reader insert #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez #park seonghwa #park seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x reader #choi san #choi san x reader #san x reader #bang chan #stray kids #ateez x female reader #ateez x y/n #skz

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sassuguru · 2 months

Text

PRETTY PINK, PRETTY GIRL, AND KINDA PERPLEXED KYOYA — "finally watched ouran, 'nd o m gosh!! i keep changin' ma pozt formatz, but dis is basically kyoya w/a bubbly hyperfem 'nd slightly ditzy reader. i mostly rambled, 'm sowy!! (,,>﹏<;,,)" the artist says. the art includes ootori kyoya from ohshc, in an arranged marriage with f!reader. all warnings include flirting, foul language, characters aged 21+ though there isn't much in here, slight suggestive lines, bulleted headcanons, "idk wat else."

brochure (m.list) etiquette

WHEN HIS FATHER TOLD HIM HE'D MARRY, he didn't quite take it well. Of course, he didn't show it, but he didn't take to the idea of being set up to marry someone he doesn't know. With rich families alliances happen often, therefore he wasn't surprised his father veered that way; however, he was surprised that his father picked him. Normally his elder brothers would be suited for such a thing, not him. But nonetheless, it was happening.

UPON MEETING YOU AND A LITTLE AFTER:

(this is pre-tamaki lol) he immediately looks at you weird.

you've gotten accustomed to detecting when someone doesn't like you. it's normal at this point! after all, there's not normally someone who dresses as you do, though this is one of the tamer outfits.

kyoya's eyes scan you, from head to toe you're covered in white and pink. you seemed to have an air of innocence with your appearance he noted. you wore a headband that was light pink, hair twisted in a thick braid that rests on your shoulders with white ribbon wrapped around it, there was a pearl necklace around your neck, a white spaghetti strapped dress, a pink sweater over it, and light pink shoes.

it's like flowers danced around your head or something.

it threw him off, him being a loner and all, not really having many flamboyant friends (yet), and stuck to the confines of his canvas.

shaking away his thoughts, he respectfully bows, thinking about his father's expectations for him. "it's nice to meet you," kyoya says softly.

you tilt your head with a smile, "It's nice to meet you too!"

he gradually (very slowly) gets accustomed to the integration of your bubbly character and pink wardrobe into his life.

he's not used to the image of someone so bright talking to someone as dark and gloomy as his father. (though, it seems his father slightly hates you aswell)

though he does get surprised when you suddenly start giving him accessories.

he immediately refused them, not wanting to wear something pink on his wrist at school. that is, until he saw the sad expression on your face. then, he accepted it, only keeping it hidden beneath his sleeve.

he didn't quite acknowledge that you were the woman he'd be married to in a couple of years.

you sort of just registered as the girl who invaded his room, other than his sister of course. it didn't register fully until he found a series of scrunchies, bows, and headbands littered (hidden) around his room.

he often looks down at the ring on your finger, glancing at the empty space on his that would soon be filled, literally.

it didn't take long for you to tie a small piece of ribbon his finger, claiming it was his ring until you turn of age to get his wedding room. he watched you giggle with a bright smile on your face, insisting he kept it on whenever the two of you are in public.

kyoya often sighs at his antics, but he 9 times out of 10 does what you ask, as he's starting to get comfortable hanging around you, without the weight of his father's words on his shoulders.

EMBRACING FIANCÉ STATUS:

once he finally gets used to you, he's a lot warmer towards you. more nonchalant towards your antics. whether it be your brainless comments, energetic rambling, or constant pushing him to wear things you buy or make for him.

he doesn't know how or when, but you've close enough to the point where's he's gotten pink canopy bed curtains and pink sheets for you. he seriously doesn't know how.

kyoya still wears that pink ribbon on his finger, except at school. it would be a pain to go through an interrogation from his classmates (even worse if its the host club). he still wears the pink bracelet you made him, the jewelry tucked nicely underneath his button-up and uniform jacket.

he's likely very immune to your antics and shit at this point. though, he still can't crack the secret that is your mind. at times you're quite smart, handling family business accordingly when needed, and other times, you're brainless.

kyoya once tried to explain a subject to you, only to look into your eyes and realize you weren't listening to a thing he said. he could tell there wasn't a thought behind those pretty eyes of yours. he simply sighed attempted to explain it again, making sure you're paying attention this time.

there are times when he'll be studying and you calmly walk up to him. "what is it?" he whispers, eyes locked on his paper. he doesn't even look up when you slide a fuzzy white and pink headband on his head, pushing his bangs out of the way. they don't get in the way of his eyes, he's just learned you like putting them on him. at times he forgets its on his head until his older sister teases him about it.

after finally settling into his role, he does get a bit protective, though reasonably so.

nothing really changed about your relationship when tamaki came into the mix, except his protectiveness.

the first time tamaki flirted with you was at ouran. you hadn't been at kyoya's house in a few days due to familial duties. (tamaki just thought he liked pink). regardless, you were downright clueless, assuming it was a regular conversation. now, to tamaki's defense, he wasn't aware that you were kyoya's fiancé, though the way you hung on him would've been a good indicator you two were at least dating (he's dense asf). kyoya's patience with the blonde had already dissipated, the combination of his spontaneousness and his flirting with you, drew kyoya up a fucking wall.

he ended up yelling at tamaki, only apologizing when you told him to.

ever since then, tamaki started walking on eggshells when he talked to you, fearing the wrath of kyoya. it was funny to watch from afar considering how lax you were compared to him. after awhile, he started to relax though. the heavy reminder in the back of his head not to flirt with you.

kyoya's nicknames are likely: darling, sweetheart, and my love. hed likely put "my" before every nickname. though depending on your appearance or personality he may give you something a little more personalized or he'll give you the nickname of an animal that reminds him of you. like "little bunny" or "kitty." in those instances, he'd only use them in private.

he's not as grumpy if you wake him up! just, be gentle.

now, onto him now with your appearance, he doesn't care. he's never been one to police your clothing unless it pertains to your school uniform. otherwise, he fully supports your style. especially when the two of you go out and you wear your little white dresses and pink coverings.

however, there was this one time when you wore a white sweater dress, pink ribbon weaved in the flipped part at top. he first thought was "short." the top of it covered your chest well enough, however, it rode up high on your thighs.

he didn't say much, but his eyes were on the bottom of the dress all day. he'd occasionally pull it down when you bent over, coming up with an excuse. perhaps, nevermind, he was being a pervert as he shamelessly watched you. he was quite literally fighting for his life until the two of you got home.

one part of his room is littered in Hello Kitty plushies, one is even on his bed! he doesn't care anymore.

kyoya would often try and help you with your appearance, like doing your hair, or wrapping the ribbon around it. maybe he'd pick out an outfit, or a headband and accessories to match an outift you've picked.

he's just very nonchalant at some point in your relationship.

MEETING THE HOST CLUB:

onto this section! despite being in everyone else's business, he doesn't like it when others are in his. he's very reserved when it comes to himself and his family. naturally, that means he's pretty reserved about you.

now, despite being one of the hosts, he doesn't entertain as many clients. at least in as close a way as the likes of tamaki or honey. he'll gladly walk and talk with them, but anything farther than that he won't stand. and he's quite glad your alright with this, though he laughs at your confused expression when tamaki called him "mommy."

alright, now the circumstances for you meeting the whole crew were just the same as any poor soul who stumbled into "Music Room 3." you wanted to visit him for once, simply wanting to see his face more today.

the usual theatrics were put on display when you opened the large doors. everyone was in character of that day's cosplay until kyoya broke it.

"hm? what are you doing here?" he mumbles, walking up to you with a small smile.

the twins almost slide into the frame with shock on their faces when he grasps your hands softly, pressing a kiss to your ring. "oh?" hikaru says. "who's this?" kaoru questions. haruhi calmly walks up to kyoya, wondering who exactly are you. "WOAHHH, WHO'S THAT?!" honey shouts, eager to meet you. "yeah, who is this kyoya-senpai? you're looking at her weird," haruhi comments.

kyoya hums, turing to the club members. honey's leaning on top of mori's head, expression full of curiosity. the twins were humming, albeit very loudly, as they study the kyoya's demeanor towards you. it felt like there were cartoonish arrows pointing at the two of you.

"oh, it seems ive forgotten," kyoya mumbles. he steps to the side and points to you with his hand. "everyone, this is my fiancé," he says calmly.

there's silence before the room (including the girls) erupts in shocked yelling. you chuckle at the attention. "mhm!" you agree with him.

"ooooh, so that's why you don't too many clients," hikaru and kaoru say simultaneously. haruhi turns to tamaki's neutral face, not a hint of shock in sight. "tamaki-senpai, did you know about this?" haruhi asks.

a 'heh,' leaves tamaki's lips. with dramatic pose and tone he shouts, "yes! of course. why wouldn't i know? me and kyoya are daddy and mommy, y'know!"

haruhi sighs and shakes her head. "nice to meet you," she shakes your hand.

after the clients leave, honey and the twins run up to you, asking you a series of questions about you and kyoya until he drags you away from them. "alright, that's enough now," he says.

you immediately clock haruhi as a girl, to everyone's surprise except from haruhi and kyoya.

"did kyoya tell you?! how could you!" tamaki shouts.

"no, it was her eyes...and voice," you point out, confused as to how many of the students at the school don't get it.

"hm," tamaki simply replies.

the club is overall relaxed and welcoming to you, they weren't surprised about anything besides your relation to kyoya. well, they were surprised about something, how similar you were to honey. the two of you got along quite well, and they could see why.

"hey kyoya-senpai," hikaru whispers. "don't you think she's a bit..." kaoru whispers.

"ditzy? yes," kyoya responds, knowing what they were thinking, "don't worry. she's not like that all of the time. it seems to me this personality of hers only appears when she's relaxed. her while handling family business is quite different."

after that, everyone was chill with you.

though, you remember that rengae intro episode? yeah, you nearly clocked the bitch in her jaw. kyoya had to grab you and calm you down. "she shouldn't be touching you like that," you reason. kyoya sighs, and presses a kiss to your cheek. "yes, yes, i know. it won't happen again," he whispers.

anyway, now the host club invade your space too!

yay!

(you and haruhi have girls nights)

additional comment, "got rlly tired 2wardz da end. but, i gotta bring da fandom back sumhow!"

#( sect. iii ) — sub pieces #ohshc kyoya #ohshc kyoya x reader #ootori kyoya #kyoya ootori #ootori kyoya x reader #kyoya ootori x reader #kyoya x reader #ohshc x reader #anime x reader #ouran high school host club #ohshc fanfic #kyoya fluff #x female reader #female reader #fem reader

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seungkwansphd · 2 years

Text

fixer upper

pairing: minghao x reader wordcount: 9.5k summary: you love your friends dearly, but do they really think that they can match make for their resident matchmaker? minghao’s certainly interesting, though, so maybe you can fix him up with someone else instead. genre/themes: s2f2l. “beg” minghao. LOTS OF PLOT with eventual smut. slow and i mean SLOW burn. some member slander(affectionate), lol. set in the ‘we get along infamously’ universe.

a/n: i have nothing to say for myself regarding the length of this.

You tapped the bartop impatiently as you waited for your blind date to show up. You couldn’t believe that Danbi had roped you into this, but you had lost the game of darts fair and square. As a result, you were here waiting for a man named Minghao to show up. Part of you really wanted to skip out on this, because you just did not trust Danbi’s romantic sensibilities. She had dated a string of truly boring and strange people for months before you had finally set her up with Seungcheol. There was no way this Minghao was going to be anywhere near suited for you, but you were a person of your word, so you would do the date and be done with it.

“Hey, are you YN?” a voice called from above your left shoulder. You turned your head to see a tall, lanky individual with dark hair looking curiously at you.

“Yes, are you Minghao?” you sat up straight, fixing him with a smile. He wasn’t your usual type, physically, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome.

“Yes, nice to meet you,” he smiled, taking the barstool next to you.

“So how do you know Danbi?” you asked after he had ordered with the bartender.

“Ah, so,” Minghao looked almost sheepish, “I helped Jeonghan get together with the person he’s dating now. One of my close friends! And so I met Seungcheol and Danbi through Jeonghan.”

“Oh?” you calculated the degrees of separation quickly in your mind. “So you don’t really know Danbi at all, then!”

“Not well,” Minghao shook his head. “I was kind of surprised when Jeonghan told me that she wanted to set me up on a date.”

“I-,” you laughed, somehow relieved to find out that this hadn’t been any serious effort on your friend’s part. “Honestly, thank god! No offense to you, I obviously don’t know you, but Danbi historically has not impressed me with her taste in men.”

“No offense taken,” Minghao chuckled, bringing his cocktail to his lips for a quick sip. “So does that mean you’re the resident matchmaker in your friend group as well?”

“Very much so,” you nodded, “So I’m not sure exactly what Danbi thinks she’s up to, trying to take my title. In fact, I bet even I could set you up with someone better! And I don’t even know you at all!” you blustered.

“Oh really?” Minghao’s eyebrow raised. You were funny.

“What, you don’t believe me?” you furrowed your brows at him.

“I mean, no one is a better matchmaker than me, so my bar is pretty high,” he replied smugly. “I’ve only ever had one couple break up, and it was due to one of their jobs making them move away.”

“Out of how many?” you found yourself curious.

“...Eight?” Minghao had to tally in his mind quickly.

“Hah! That’s nothing!” you waved him off easily, “I’ve successfully set up eleven couples and none of them have broken up yet!”

Minghao smiled, amused by your bright and confident energy. While you clearly weren’t suited for him, he found himself wanting to beat you at your own game.

“Set me up then,” he invited confidently. “But I bet I can find you a match sooner than you can find one for me.”

“Oh?” you grinned at his gamelike proposal. Before you even knew it, the words came out of your mouth, “You’re on!”

Minghao laughed, shaking your hand enthusiastically. You spent the rest of your “date” exchanging phone numbers and excitedly reviewing each other’s basic likes and dislikes. Minghao wasn’t your type, but he certainly was interesting! He worked in HR for a tech company, had interests in art and fashion, and also had trained in mixed martial arts as a child? Quite a strange array of hobbies, but you were so going to win this thing!

…

“So, how did it go?” Minghao’s voice sounded slightly tinny through your headphones.

“Not good,” you were almost excited to report on how badly the date had gone. “I would rate your matchmaking skills like a 4 out of 10 right now!”

“Excuse me?” Minghao stopped in his tracks. Surely he had misheard you.

“Four. Out of ten.” you repeated yourself, grinning at the way you could tell he was surprised by your feedback.

“No, that can’t be right.”

“Allow me to elaborate,” you pressed on as you decided to take the long way home so you could regale Minghao with every last detail of why your date with Wonwoo had not been stellar. “First…could you have found someone more quiet or disinterested to have set me up with? You’d think I was trying to pull his teeth out!”

Minghao squeezed his eyes together. He and Wonwoo had built up their rapport over many years and he’d somehow forgotten just how tight-lipped his friend could be when meeting someone new.

“Also his only hobby seems to be gaming? I don’t know anything about that nor do I have an interest,” you continued. “Ah, it’s so nice out!” you commented as an aside while you pulled a pink bloom to your nose to inhale.

“Oh are you outside?” Minghao couldn’t help but ask.

“Yep, I’m walking home!” you nodded, “Oh I’m glad I took the long way! I forgot how much I like this park.”

“It is a nice day out,” Minghao looked out the glass panes of his office. He was painfully close to the end of his day and truth be told, he was excited to run out the clock with you on the phone. “So anyways, where are my four points coming from, because I haven’t heard anything positive yet.”

“Oh, well, I mean. I’m going to chalk that up to Wonwoo’s looks, really. He’s unbelievably handsome. Almost too handsome!” you threw your hands up in the air, drawing a few odd looks from other pedestrians.

Minghao laughed. It was true, Wonwoo was probably his most conventionally attractive friend, so it wasn’t a surprise to hear you say it too.

“Okay, so then…very cold on the personality traits, but very hot on the physical features. I can work off of that,” Minghao nodded, scanning through his mental roster of friends. Luckily, Wonwoo was probably the most introverted of them all, so it could only go upwards from here.

“Yep. Oh which! I have a candidate for you,” you clapped excitedly as you waited for the crosswalk to turn green. “My friend Yena!”

Minghao nodded contemplatively as you rattled off the list of compatible points that you saw for him and this Yena. He had his doubts, but he put your proposed date and time in his calendar. A deal was a deal.

“Okay, I’m almost home, so I’m going to hang up now! I’ll text Yena to confirm! Eee, I’m excited to hear what you think!”

“Okay, bye,” Minghao laughed, glancing at the clock again. It was officially quitting time, so he packed up his bag and headed out of the office. You’d been right, it was a beautiful day out, so he decided to switch up his commute as well. As he walked, he found himself wondering which park you had passed through on your way home.

…

[yn]: ‘sooooooo…………yena?!?!???!’

[minghao]: ‘6/10’

You narrowed your eyes in disbelief. Six out of ten?!

[yn]: ‘BE SO FUCKIN FR RIGHT NOW’

[minghao]: ‘no, I actually really liked her, but she said she doesn’t eat chinese food?! i can’t live like that’

What? Surely you had eaten Chinese food with Yena before, right? You racked your brain, but unfortunately came up empty handed. You had to admit, that was a big blind spot on your part.

[yn]: ‘.........i guess that has never come up before. my bad! i know that’s important to you’

[yn]: ‘i’m still up 2 tho! 6 against your 4.’

Minghao threw his head back to laugh. You were so competitive.

[yn]: ‘ok feedback on other qualities tho! plz & thank u’

Minghao waited, an amused smile on his lips, for your three dots to vanish before providing your requested feedback. As he had said, overall he had quite enjoyed meeting Yena. She had been a little quiet and shy at first, but had opened up quite a bit as the date went on. They shared an interest in art and had had quite a nice discussion before she revealed that she did not like Chinese food. Normally an aversion to specific food wouldn’t bother Minghao so much, but after moving, it was important for him to continue to engage with his culture and food was a major way in which he did that.

[yn]: ‘ok, got it, got it. that makes perfect sense’

A soft smile settled on his lips. Minghao was glad that you weren’t taking too much offense to his negative feedback. Part of him was glad that the date hadn’t gone that well and he was sure that it was just his competitive nature. It would have been humiliating for him if you had actually found him someone perfect on the first try.

[minghao]: ‘what are your plans for the weekend?’

[yn]: ‘theres a textile and apparel exhibit opening at the folk art museum that i wanted to check out’

[minghao]: ‘oh?? i was planning to go too! when are you going?’

You cocked your head curiously at your phone. That was weird. But you realized it would be very helpful to observe Minghao in the wild so as to do a better job choosing prospective dates for him. Then you could review your roster of candidates for him after the museum, so it could be a productive time! With a fluttery feeling in your chest, for whatever reason, you chose a meeting time to visit the museum with Minghao. Together.

…

You tapped your fisted hands against your hips as you scanned the crowds for Minghao. It had been a few weeks since you had first met him in person and you had an unreasonable worry that you’d forgotten what his face looked like. Glancing at your watch, you wondered if you had gotten the time wrong.

“YN!” a clear voice caught your attention.

“Ah, there you are!” your face cracked into a smile up at Minghao. “Ok, I’m glad I decided to dress up!” you exhaled with relief after taking in his outfit. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he was interested in fashion.

“This outfit is very cool,” he nodded approvingly, eyes raking over you. An unreasonable warmth spread across you at his assessment. You had spent longer than usual picking and re-picking necklaces to match the hardware on your boots. It was nice to see that it was appreciated.

“Thank you!” you beamed up at him, eyes creasing into semi-circles. “Now let’s go!” you gestured forcefully at the museum entrance.

“Okay, okay,” Minghao chuckled goodnaturedly, allowing you to lead the way.

“Holy fuck,” you breathed, hands fisted in excitement as you peered closely at the thread and beadwork on a contemporary bobbin lace exhibit. “Unreal.”

Minghao had to do a double take. Your mouth had fallen slightly open, enthralled, as you took in the detail and your eyes were as wide as saucers. You looked like a cartoon frog.

“You’ll catch a fly like that,” he teased, slipping two fingertips under your chin to snap your mouth shut.

You narrowed your eyes at him. If you’d learned one thing today, it was that Minghao was quite prone to teasing. It was a good thing that you had agreed to this museum trip after all, because otherwise your list of next candidates would’ve been wildly out of order.

“Do you want to see the other exhibits too? Or are you only interested in fiber arts?” Minghao asked, looking up from the museum layout map.

“No, I’m interested in all mediums!” you nodded at him. “I just think textile arts have been woefully excluded from the mainstream art world because, you know, misogyny,” you rolled your eyes theatrically at him as you followed his lead. “So I am particularly interested when museums put together exhibits like that!”

Minghao’s lips pinched slightly in amusement. He agreed with you, of course, but he found your animated enthusiasm in high contrast to the serious backdrop of the museum hall. He led the way to one of his favorite areas and you two passed the rest of the afternoon walking through the displays in contemplative quiet.

“I’m hungry,” you frowned as you left the museum.

“Me too,” Minghao grabbed at his midsection. “Let’s go find something to eat!”

“There’s a Chinese restaurant around here that I like! Let’s go there!” you suggested. Minghao nodded furiously, stomach grumbling insistently at him.

…

You glanced at your date out of the side of your eye as you wondered how rude it might be to just leave. While Joshua was certainly your physical type, all arms and chest, you quickly found out that the contents of his brain were just not for you. You weren’t religious at all and if he broke out into song, singing ‘Sunday Morning’ at or near you one more time, you might actually run away.

After going through the motions of saying goodbye, you pulled your phone out to dial Minghao as soon as you started walking home.

“Hello?” he answered, sounding slightly groggy.

“I need to understand your thought process with this one,” you shook your head in disbelief.

“Huh?” Minghao rubbed his eyes, pulling his phone away to check who had called. “Oh, hey! Sorry I just woke up.”

“Oh, did I wake you up?” you paused, “Shit, sorry! You didn’t have to answer me!”

“I didn’t know it was you! I also hadn’t meant to fall asleep,” Minghao chuckled and you heard some rustling of sheets in the background. “Sorry, what did you ask me again?”

“I need to know why you set me up with Joshua,” you frowned. “Do I give off a vibe that he’s my type?”

“Is he not?” Minghao wondered, “He’s more outgoing than Wonwoo, still handsome, and family oriented.”

“Okay, those things are true, but he’s also super religious, which I’m not. And I do not like to be sung at in public…or at all, I don’t think.”

“No, please,” Minghao started laughing, “Did he? I didn’t think he’d bring that out on a first date!” Minghao couldn’t stop laughing, practically kicking his feet in delight at the absurdity of it.

“Yeah, several times, in fact,” you rolled your eyes.

“Why are you so difficult to match for?” Minghao found himself asking. He was partially teasing, but also somewhat serious. People generally threw themselves at both Wonwoo and Joshua, so to hear you be so turned off by them was surprising and confusing.

“I’m not difficult! I think my expectations are more than reasonable,” you nodded firmly to yourself.

“Okay, elaborate on these expectations, please, because I’m clearly missing the mark.”

“Hm, well, okay. Someone funny and intelligent with a wide variety of interests or knowledge. Someone who would challenge me in ways that make me grow. Someone who also can understand that I should have my own endeavors and activities without feeling insecure. I dunno, someone who just gets me!”

“Very reasonable,” Minghao’s flat voice came back across the phone.

“It is reasonable!” you stamped your foot. You felt like he was teasing you again, but it was hard to tell over the phone.

“No, that’s helpful!” he clarified.

“Why are you asleep at 8pm anyways, you old man?” you suddenly remembered.

“Ugh, it was a long day,” he groaned into your ear, “I had to get to work early to prepare onboarding materials for new hires and then when I got home, I just passed out I guess.”

“Ah, well, do you want me to let you go? You should go back to sleep and catch up on yesterday.”

“No, I’m up now,” Minghao shook his head, reluctant to end the phone call. “Tell me about the restaurant, was the food at least good?”

You smiled, happy to stay on the line with him. The food had indeed been good and you described your meal and cocktails to him in vivid detail. You were now in your second month of knowing Minghao and your relationship had evolved into a tentatively comfortable friendship. Between all of the set up activities, you’d actually gotten to know him a bit and grown used to discussing and sharing other aspects of your lives. Minghao was definitely an introvert, but he was well balanced with an energy and enthusiasm that ensured you were never bored.

…

“Wait, I’m confused. You told me that the date with Minghao didn’t go well, but you’ve stayed in touch with him?” Danbi’s forehead wrinkled in confusion.

“What are you confused about? That’s exactly right,” you returned her confused look.

“Why would you stay in touch with someone you don’t like?”

“I never said I didn’t like him!” you shook your head, confused at her statement.

“You liked him, but the date didn’t go well? Why wouldn’t the date go well if you like him?”

“I can like him as a friend and not want to date him!”

Danbi narrowed her eyes at you. She didn’t think you were that petty, but it was almost as if you were purposefully maintaining a distance between yourself and Minghao just to spite her.

“So what do you two talk about?” she was curious.

“We’ve been setting each other up on dates! Supposedly he’s the friend group matchmaker, like me, but he’s pretty bad at it,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes. “But we talk about other things too! He likes art and fashion. We went to the textile exhibit opening a few weeks ago.”

Danbi shook her head; she was lost. Wasn’t that just a date? Luckily she knew you better than to prod too much further.

“Well that’s good! It’s always nice to make a new friend,” she smiled at you, “He should come to Soonyoung’s housewarming party next week!”

“Should he?”

“Yeah, of course! Jeonghan will be there and I think he invited a few of his coworkers too so see if Minghao wants to come!”

“Ah, I guess so,” you nodded, somehow nervous, “I’ll ask, but no promises.”

“Sure!” Danbi laughed, “Now let me show you some pictures of Doyun with Jeonghan and his new partner! Who you also have to meet!”

You giggled happily as Danbi flipped through her photos. Doyun had always looked more like Seungcheol as a baby, but now that he was getting older, he was taking on more and more of your friend’s features.

“Ah, he looks so much like you there! Ahhhh!” you shook your fists excitedly.

“He does look more like me recently, doesn’t he?” she beamed proudly at you.

For all the headache you had posed to her with this Minghao situation, she did love you and was grateful towards you for gently nudging her towards Seungcheol many years ago. You were very astute at reading others and as a result, she now had a wonderful husband and son. It had always interested and amused her that your insightfulness didn’t quite extend to yourself.

…

“Eeeee!” you and Soonyoung clapped your hands together excitedly after you’d sunk another ping pong ball into a plastic cup.

“Just perfect! Look at that technique! You duds don’t stand a chance!” he crowed, jeering at Seungcheol and Seokmin excitedly.

Danbi giggled excitedly at her husband’s rotten luck, to which Seungcheol pouted.

“Ya! Who are you even cheering for?!” he shouted playfully, leveling an accusing finger at his wife, inspiring another round of giggles.

“Me, of course! I can find her another husband, she can’t find another me!” you laughed, jumping up and down in delight at the way that Seungcheol fumed.

“You’re dead!” he furrowed his brows at you, “You’re so dead!” He made a show of stretching his neck and shoulders before taking his next shot at beer pong.

“Hah!” you shouted and shook Hoshi excitedly, collapsing into a puddle of laughter as Seungcheol’s ball ricocheted dramatically off of the rim and bounced anticlimactically across the ground. “Oh no, oh Cheol please I’m crying!” you hiccuped, wiping your eyes.

Minghao had slipped in quietly while you were taunting Seungcheol and he was shocked at the way you did it so loudly and unapologetically. He didn’t know Seungcheol quite that well yet, but he had been under the impression that he probably shouldn’t be messed with too much. A smile toyed at the corners of his mouth before he moved away to grab a beverage.

“You made it!” Danbi appeared at his side while he popped the cap off of a beer.

“Hi Danbi,” Hao smiled kindly at her. He had met Danbi through Jeonghan a while ago and for whatever reason, she had really taken a shine to him.

“Did you find the place alright?”

“Yes, YN’s instructions were very easy to follow.”

“Great! Let me know if there’s anyone here that you haven’t met yet, but I think you may know them all!”

Minghao nodded. Looking around the room, it did seem like he knew most of the attendees. Jeonghan and his girlfriend were flanked by a few of their other coworkers. By some miracle Seokmin and Seungcheol had both managed to find babysitters tonight, and so were able to attend with their wives, Hana and Danbi. Joshua was on another date, after he and YN had not managed to hit things off, so Jeonghan’s friend group was short just one of the usual count.

“Ha! Ha! Ha!” you laughed with Hoshi after winning yet another game of beer pong. You and he had been nearly undefeatable since college and it was nice to see that this hadn’t changed, even after he had moved away for a few years. “Oh pink?” you wondered aloud when you spotted Minghao chatting with Jeonghan over a beer.

“You’re here!” you interrupted their conversation easily, fingers itching to touch his pink hair. “Is this a fade out color?”

“Yes,” he laughed, “The murder scene every time I showered was starting to get old.”

“I can’t believe your hair hasn’t just fallen straight out of your head,” Jeonghan’s girlfriend shook her head with a laugh.

“Hah!” you laughed heartily, struggling to imagine Minghao bald.

“I’d love it if you didn’t curse me with this foul energy,” he rolled his eyes at all of you.

“Did you all see how I swept the floor with Seungcheol? Again?” you crowed excitedly to Jeonghan.

“Yes, yes, very good,” Jeonghan rolled his eyes at you. You were always such a braggart about pong.

“I can’t believe he lets you tease him like that,” Minghao gestured to Seungcheol incredulously.

“Ah, I’m a lovable scamp!” you shrugged, sticking your tongue out at your newest friend.

“That’s true,” Hao laughed, a soft smile crossing his face.

Jeonghan and his girlfriend both looked at Minghao with interest while your attention was pulled elsewhere. Danbi and Hana summoned you from across the room so you gave everyone a small wave before you left.

“So-,” Jeonghan opened his mouth to dig, but his girlfriend stopped him with a quick shake of her head. She knew Minghao would not respond to anything that direct, so it was best to meddle gently.

“What is it?” you asked once you were close enough to Danbi and Hana for them to hear you.

“We were wondering if Minghao had set you up on a successful date yet?” Hana asked, “If not, I actually met this kind of cool guy at the school yesterday.”

“Oh, no, not yet. I actually need to follow up with him on that,” you shook your head.

“Follow up? You’re being so project manager-y about this,” Hana laughed.

“I mean…it is a project that I’m managing,” you flushed, already knowing that you would say no to Hana’s proposed guy.

“Well, what do you think? He came to service the computers, so he works in IT. He’s tall, pretty broad, and has a very nice smile.”

“What’s his personality like?” you queried. It didn’t make any sense at all, but for whatever reason you felt guilty of the idea of being set by someone other than Minghao.

“I didn’t get to talk to him too much, but he seemed nice! He volunteers at an animal shelter.”

“Aww,” Danbi cooed excitedly.

“You’re going to make fun of me for saying this, but I don’t think I care,” you inhaled deeply before rejecting Danbi’s proposal. “It feels weird to think about going on a date with someone that Minghao doesn’t pick for me. So I kind of want to see how things play out with that?”

“I’m not going to make fun of you!” Danbi looked at you indignantly.

“I am!” Hana made a face at you, “You are so attached to him, like come on YN!” she gestured forcefully at you.

“Of course I’m attached to him, we’re friends!” you shrugged. “I’m attached to you doofuses too,” you gestured back with your palms up. Hana and Danbi laughed. Your love language was, indeed, teasing and they’d grown used to it long ago. You were watching them whisper to each other suspiciously before Danbi jutted her chin out, pointing at something behind you.

“Oh, JESUS!” you jumped after realizing Minghao was standing behind you. “Snuck up on me, fuckin’ hell,” you mumbled curses as you put a few paces between him and yourself.

“Let’s go play beer pong. Apparently you’re unstoppable and I need to witness this for myself,” he smirked, giving you a disbelieving once over.

“Don’t…,” you found yourself shivering under his gaze, “Look at me like that! I will win,” you let yourself think that you had recovered smoothly.

With each ball that Minghao sank into your cups, you stood up just a little straighter and your expression grew just a little more baffled. You’d never been in such a closely matched game of pong before and, honestly, you didn’t care for it.

“Hey, let’s make this more interesting,” Minghao spoke up when you were each down to one cup. You raised an eyebrow at him, gesturing for him to proceed with his idea. “If I win, I take you out on a date.”

“I-,” you choked, heart clogging your throat momentarily. “What?”

“For research purposes,” he clarified, triple checking his foot placement as he squared up his aim. “You can give me feedback and that’ll help me better tailor my matches for you in the future.” He launched the ball into the air and it sailed into your final cup easily.

“I-, wait,” you stuttered, partially in disbelief over your loss and partially for a reason that you weren’t able to identify yet. Your mouth opened and closed a few times before you could accept it.

“What, are you scared?” Minghao stepped towards you. He felt a perverse joy in the way you were reacting to his win. Something about seeing you flounder tickled his brain very specifically.

“You lost fair and square!” Soonyoung waved you off to make room for the next players.

“What exactly would I be scared of?” you blustered as Minghao herded you away from the table. “A date with you?”

“Scared you’ll like it,” he laughed, peering down at you, stepping into your personal space just slightly.

“Hah!” you let out a honking laugh. That was absurd, right? “Fine, take me out on our little date. I’m sure I’ll have plenty of feedback.”

“Great,” he grinned at you, patting you on the head condescendingly.

You were baffled. You could tell you were blushing and you weren’t really sure if you could just blame it on the beer pong loss. You snuck a glance at Minghao, whose attention was back on the party, watching Soonyoung trounce Seokmin quite soundly. He was right, you were terrified for this date.

…

“Ugh you look so cute!” Hana squealed excitedly, “It’s such a shame it’s just for a practice run!”

You chuckled. Sure, it was true that this date with Minghao was just for research purposes, but it hadn’t stopped you from thinking of it as if it were real.

‘wear a dress or skirt. something short or unrestricted at the bottom and shoes you can move in’ was all of the instruction that Minghao had given you.

“Maybe he’s taking you dancing?” Hana wondered aloud. “It’s kinda romantic that he’s keeping everything a surprise!”

“So romantic,” you parroted at her sarcastically.

You didn’t know why, but you felt quite nervous about this one. You had been on more than your fair share of first dates recently, so it really didn’t make sense to feel this way about the fake one. Probably just because everything was a surprise.

“Ya! Why am I nervous!?” you jumped up and down aggressively, shouting at yourself.

Hana shrugged, even though she knew the answer. Best to let you come to your own epiphany. She fretted and cooed the appropriate amount as she helped you finish your makeup and hair. You were satisfied when you looked in the mirror, but that didn’t make your armpits any less sweaty. Thank god for prescription grade antiperspirant.

“Ready?” Minghao greeted you at your door with a bouquet of flowers around half an hour later.

“I think,” you eyed him suspiciously, still irked that he hadn’t spilled a single clue about your activities.

“Put these in water so we can go!” he thrust the bouquet at you impatiently.

“Okay, okay,” you muttered. You scanned the blooms quickly and were pleased and surprised that all of them were cat safe. He’d remembered. You grabbed an empty jar and plunked the stems into it before returning to Minghao. “Is this outfit acceptable?” you paused to check, turning in a full circle so he could inspect.

“Yes,” he nodded, eyes full of something you couldn’t quite place, but it vanished just as quickly. “Now let’s go! We need to be on time.”

Minghao shepherded you into the car and drove towards your destination. You were, strangely, at a loss for words and so spent the time inspecting his car and marveled at how clean it was. Usually you couldn’t stop yourself from babbling about nonsense at him, but this simulated date seemed to have rendered you speechless. As he pulled into the parking lot, your eyes lit up reading the sign.

“Hana was right!” you grinned at him triumphantly. “It is dancing!”

“Yes,” he chuckled at your expression. It wasn’t like you were the one who had guessed right, but he’d never know that with the way you beamed at him. “Intro to Rumba! I thought it’d be fun to try something new together.”

“Rumba?” you thought hard. You weren’t well versed in ballroom dance styles, but the name rang a bell. You had definitely seen it on a ‘Something-est Things To Do With Your Partner’ kind of list. “I don’t know how to dance,” you whispered to Minghao as the other students filtered into the class.

“That’s why it’s fun,” he grinned down at you.

After beating you at beer pong last week, Minghao had been itching to get the upper hand on you again. While he wasn’t very skilled at ballroom, he did have some dance experience from his past. Rumba was also fairly sensual in nature and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to watching you squirm and be flustered over it.

With your hands tucked behind your back, you watched intently as the instructors demonstrated the short routine that you would work on during class. You did your best to keep your cool, but you felt like everyone probably heard the sound of your loud gulp as you registered just how close together you would be with Minghao. There was probably technically some distance between the instructors, but not that you could see with the naked eye.

Minghao blinked a few times as he watched the demo with you. This was closer quarters than any other style of dance he had ever tried before and he wondered if he had made a mistake.

“Okay, right hand to left hand. Leading partner’s right hand on the following partner’s waist. Following partner’s left hand resting gently at the back of the leading partner’s neck,” the instructions came.

“Okay, right hand here, left hand here,” you muttered to yourself as Minghao clasped his left hand into your right and you hooked your left hand around the back of his neck. You managed to follow the first set of steps without tripping over yourself too spectacularly, but the next combination threw you for quite the loop.

“So now comes a sexy part,” the instructors grinned mischievously, “Leading is going to spin the following out and then pull them back in to face them. And then following partner is going to drop in a slow and sexy wiggle, their hand trailing down the leading partner’s chest.

Oh. Your lips pursed as your mind painted the mental picture of what that would look like. You resisted the urge to glance furtively at Minghao, pink rising in your cheeks.

Next to you, Minghao blinked. Once, twice, and then one more time for good measure. He had been so busy considering how this class might affect you that he hadn’t even thought of himself. The idea of you trailing your fingertips down the centerline of his chest made him want to shake his head furiously.

“Five, six, seven, eight!” The rapid counts snapped both of you out of your thoughts. “Spin out!”

You held onto Minghao’s fingers tightly as you spun away from him.

“Fancy arm!”

You flung your arm out theatrically and were inordinately pleased to make Minghao laugh.

“Now tuck your arm as you spin back in!” the instructions continued.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing before you brought your arm back to your center and spun into Minghao’s chest. Slowly, your hips drew figure eights as you worked your way down into a squat and your eyes followed your hand’s slow trail down his chest. Like watching a train wreck.

Minghao looked to the instructors for the next directions, desperate to be not looking at you. He wanted to groan. Even in this wordless touch, you were mischievous, not drawing straight down, but rather trailing a wavy line, timed with the movement of your hips on the way down.

“Now leading partner, you are going to pull them back up! Forceful! Dramatic! What are they doing down there? They’re up to no good!”

You had wanted to laugh, but when Minghao dragged you back up to your feet and looked deeply into your eyes…all of that went out the window. For a moment, the directions barked by the instructors faded into the background and all you could hear was a soft buzzing in your ears as you held his gaze.

“Very good, very good you two!” the instructors clapped excitedly as they walked towards you. “Tension! Eye contact! That’s what the rumba is all about, excellent!”

“Thank you!” You almost shouted. You were so excited to be able to rip your eyes away from Minghao that you plastered a wide grin across your face and gave an awkward thumbs up to the whole class.

“How do you do this dance without falling in love with each other?” another student wondered aloud.

“You don’t!” the instructor replied with a laugh. “Every so often you get a pair that falls in love and gets married, but in general you break up but you keep dancing together because you have good physical chemistry.”

“Yikes.” you turned to Minghao with a bemused look on your face. You were relieved to see that the tension seemed to have dissipated and he found your instructor’s comments as strange as you did. The rest of the class passed with relative ease, but the feel of his fingers resting at your waist and nipping into your hips certainly lingered longer than was ideal.

“What’d you think?” Minghao asked as he started driving to the next destination.

“That was fun,” you nodded after some consideration. “Definitely out of the box and a new experience for me. Also a very good way to gauge physical chemistry. Honestly a very good early date activity. Ten out of ten.”

He preened under your compliment. You wondered what your next activity would be, but knew that asking would get you nowhere, so you tried to fill your brain with other thoughts. After a while, you ran out of things to think about and your eyes decided to regard Minghao as he drove. His right hand lingered at the gearshift, fingers tapping every so often as his eyes stayed glued to the road. You shifted in your seat as you watched the tendons of his forearms flex in a very distracting way. The way he looked when he was focused was…unfortunately attractive.

Minghao could feel your eyes on him as he drove. He struggled to keep his attention on the road as his mind played back snippets from class. Namely, the moment when he had pulled you back up to your feet and locked eyes with you for just a little too long. Your eyes had widened and your lips had parted just slightly as you gazed back up at him and rational thought had almost left him completely.

“No, Minghao! Really?!” you squealed excitedly as he pulled into the parking lot of the botanical garden. “You remembered!”

“Of course,” he nodded, parking the car. You had mentioned the Poisonous Plants special exhibit off-handedly a few weeks ago and he had filed it away in his brain. He liked the botanical garden too.

“Look how beautiful!” you gasped as you looked at the Atropa belladonna, or Deadly Nightshade. “I can’t believe a flower this beautiful is also poison! Isn’t that cool? Such a good name too.”

Minghao chuckled. You were making your little frog face again. He didn’t know if he thought of poison as cool, but he enjoyed seeing your excitement over such a morbid topic. The expression you made when you were enthralled by something was painfully endearing to him.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you wrapped your arms around him excitedly as you headed towards the exit archway of the garden.

“You’re welcome,” Minghao was surprised by your sudden physical affection. “You’re such a nerd, I’m glad you had a good time,” he teased as his arms folded around your waist naturally.

You wrinkled your nose at him playfully. You couldn’t help the slight hitch in your breath before you pulled away, looping your arm in his happily as you walked through the other areas of the garden. This closeness grew less and less foreign as the day went on and was directly correlated to your concern for your own sanity.

…

“So…what do you think?” Minghao inquired after you had settled in at your table at a rooftop restaurant and bar. He really enjoyed the ambiance here and thought you’d enjoy the food as well.

“Of?” you replied blankly, having been busy reading over the menu.

“Our date?” his brows creased together, he had not been expecting that response.

“Oh! Good! Really good, actually,” you nodded, trying to speak of it in a detached way. “You did a really good job picking activities and this restaurant. This menu is so interesting! But at the same time, I feel like you are at an unfair advantage because you know me pretty well by now. I don’t think this is a reasonable expectation to have for a first blind date. I also probably wouldn’t agree to so many things in one day with them, because what if we didn’t hit it off? Also wouldn’t let them drive me because what if they’re a murderer?”

“You think I’d set you up with a murderer?”

“You never know,” you shook your finger at him playfully, “People are full of surprises, unfortunately.”

Minghao watched you as you watched the sunset. He agreed with you, this had been a really good date. For whatever reason, you had leaned into the physical affection at the botanical garden and it had made his brain go haywire. He found that he not only didn’t want this date to end, but he wanted a second and a third (maybe to infinity) with you. He wanted to watch you try really hard at things that you had never done before and wanted to watch you make your little cartoon frog face when you were delighted by something.

“What?” you asked, turning back to meet Minghao’s lingering gaze.

“Nothing. I’m just having a really great time with you today,” he smiled back.

Your smile faltered as your heart pounded. You searched his face for some hint that he was teasing you, like usual, but it wasn’t there.

“Minghao!” an excited voice pulled your attention away suddenly. You turned to see two men, one tall and muscular and the other slighter and shorter.

“Mingyu, Jae,” Minghao waved at them easily, “Coworkers,” he explained to you as they approached. “This is YN.”

“Oh, are you on a date?” the taller man’s eyes flitted between you and Minghao, slowly coming to a realization.

“Wait no. YN. No, they’re not dating!” the other man interjected as he connected his brain cells, “Jeonghan told me about this! You two have been setting each other up on dates, right? Or something like that?”

“That’s right,” you laughed, “So sorry, who’s Mingyu and who’s Jae?”

“Ah, sorry, yes,” Minghao chuckled, “Mingyu and Jae,” he gestured towards them respectively.

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled, unable to help the way your eyes raked over Mingyu. He was your exact physical type and his eyes sparkled obviously at you when he talked.

“Well, we’ll get out of your hair! We were on our way out,” Jae nodded at you after not too long.

“I hope to see you again sometime,” Mingyu smiled at you, leaning down for another handshake before they left. Minghao bristled.

“Him,” you turned to Minghao, oblivious to his irritation. “Set me up with him, he’s my exact type!”

“Mingyu?” Minghao’s nose wrinkled slightly. “You don’t even know him.”

“He’s so hot though,” you exhaled theatrically, not really caring what his personality was like when he had a body like that. “That’s what a blind date is for, right? Blind to the red flags that I don’t want to see.”

Minghao scoffed at your absurdity. On the one hand, Mingyu was a perfectly nice guy. Maybe too eager and bubbly for you, but he trusted that he could treat you well. On the other hand, he had just been grappling with the idea of wanting you for himself, so the two sides of his brains clashed violently and he really had no explanation for the next word that left his mouth.

“Beg.”

“Excuse me?” you must have misheard him.

“Beg me. And I’ll set you up with him,” he leaned back, smirk playing across his lips as he teased you mercilessly.

“P-please?” you stuttered, thighs pressing together inexplicably at the look on his face.

“Cuter,” he goaded you, tongue tracing across his lips as the flush rose in your cheeks. Your heart threatened to stop.

“Hao, please?” your eyes became doe-like and your lower lip pouted out just slightly. You didn’t even know why you were humoring him, you’d never let a man make you beg for anything before.

“There, see? That wasn’t so hard,” he sat back up, clearing his throat slightly as he glanced away. “I’ll set it up,” he nodded, heart sinking in his chest.

“Great,” you smiled, chest feeling tight. Your heart was racing.

…

You found yourself perplexed and kicking a small pebble down the sidewalk after your date with Mingyu. It wasn’t that it had gone poorly, no in fact just the opposite. You were surprised that he had even been available to be set up because he was, on paper, perfect. He was funny, sweet, eager and all in that body? It was simply unfair.

No, the thing that you were confused and frustrated about was that you didn’t really want to go on another date with him. For whatever reason, the only feeling you could muster for him was a lukewarm fondness and it really made you mad. Typically, you would call Minghao to debrief, but you were mad at him too! Your date with him last week was the reason the bar was so unreasonably high now, after all.

“Damn,” you sighed to yourself as you gave the poor pebble another swift kick.

…

Minghao glanced at his phone, irritated to see that you still hadn’t messaged him with any updates. Dinner had to be over by now, right? Normally you at least snuck away to text him from the bathroom, so for his phone to be this dry could only be a sign that the date had gone well. Probably too well.

[mingyu]: ‘dude! YN is wonderful! thank you for setting this up!’

[hao]: ‘ah, so it went well?’

[mingyu]: ‘i think so! she’s cool as hell man’

[mingyu]: ‘she makes such a cute face when she gets excited’

Minghao saw red for a moment. The intensity of his jealousy caught him by surprise and he had to reign himself in before he replied to Mingyu’s text.

[hao]: ‘yeah, i like her too, lol’

Minghao threw his phone onto the sofa. Stupid idiot.

…

[hao]: ‘are you ever going to admit defeat or are you going to just ignore me forever?’

You had been doom scrolling in bed when his text appeared and before you knew it, you were calling him.

“Hey,” his voice was soft when he picked up. The way his heart had jumped when he’d seen your incoming call was unreasonable.

“Hi,” you greeted him, your voice sounded small.

“So…,” Minghao waffled. He didn’t really want to talk about Mingyu, but he wasn’t really sure what else to talk to you about. “Mingyu said he liked you.”

“Oh, did he?” you chuckled, “He seems like the type of person that likes everyone.”

Hao laughed because you weren’t wrong.

“It went well, though, right?” He wished that, like all the other dates, this one had been a dud too.

“It was okay,” you shrugged, “I don’t see myself going on another date with him though, to be honest. He’s a little too…I don’t know?” you trailed off trying to explain.

“Oh?” Minghao’s voice piqued with interest, “Well I’m starting to run out of friends,” he joked.

“I don’t think I want you to set me up with any more of your friends,” you sighed. “No more first dates for a while, I think.”

Minghao froze as he saw his opening. He knew he would forever be kicking himself if he didn’t take the shot now.

“Are you home?”

“Yes?”

“Okay, I’m in the middle of errands, but I’ll be there in ten. I have to ask you something in person.”

“Oh okay.”

Minghao didn’t leave much more room for discussion as he hung up and turned the car around, driving towards your place. You checked your appearance nervously as you waited.

[hao]: ‘here’

Your pulse pounded in your ears as you opened the door for him, more nervous now than you had been for your date.

“Hi,” he greeted you from under a black baseball cap. It was annoying how he looked so good in it. “Can I come in?”

“No,” you joked as you opened the door for him.

“So no more first dates, does that mean you’re officially tapping out of our game?” he asked, looking down at you.

“N-,” your instinct was to push back, but he was right this time. “I mean, yes, I guess so. I’m tired of this meeting people business, I just want to spend time with people that I already like.”

“Would that include me?” he grinned, stepping towards you and until you backed into the kitchen counter.

“I-, I have mixed feelings about you,” you answered honestly, unable to meet his gaze.

“Can I take you out on a second date?” he ducked his head towards yours, hands coming to rest at your hips.

“I-,” you squeezed your eyelids together. In the past you would’ve panicked, but this closeness was now familiar to you and you only wanted to sink into it further. “Maybe you should beg this ti-,” you raised your brows, flicking your eyes mischievously to his.

“Ah!” Minghao cut you off sternly. “I’d think twice about that.”

“But-,” you couldn’t help yourself.

He cut you off with a firm grip at the base of your throat. His longer fingers tapped against the side of your neck as he regarded you sternly. “Will you behave?”

You knew you should say yes. Part of you might have even wanted to say yes, but you were you to your core. “Maybe.”

“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” he teased you in a sing-songy voice. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“There,” you pointed to a door towards your right. Without so much as a warning, you found yourself being hauled and plunked onto the edge of your bed.

“You have been driving me crazy for months, so let’s see if I can return the favor,” he looked down at you, tongue poking in his cheek.

“Months?” you wondered, thighs squeezing together nervously.

“Yes, months,” Minghao reached out and patted you on the cheek condescendingly. “So picky and difficult about every single person that I set you up with. Were you doing it on purpose or did you really not notice?”

“Not on purpose! They just…,” you trailed off sheepishly.

“What’s that? Speak up.”

“They sucked cause you’re bad at picking,” you squinted at him defiantly. You hated that you loved the way he was treating you.

“Try again?” he grabbed you around the jaw, his fingertips pressing your lips into an unflattering fish face. You could see in his eyes that he wouldn’t humor you for much longer.

“They weren’t you,” came your muffled reply, your lips moving in an exaggerated manner between his long fingers.

“One more time?” Minghao’s eyes danced at you, fingers relinquishing their grip. He wanted to hear it again, clearly.

“They weren’t you!” you replied, sickeningly sweetly eyes creasing into sarcastic half moons as you smiled at him.

“Tch,” he scoffed, pushing you back onto the bed and climbing over you. “You are so difficult,” he shook his head as his eyes raked across you, admiring your shape. “You’re lucky I like you.”

You let out a simpering sigh as his lips nibbled from just behind your earlobe down to your collarbone. His teeth nipped roughly as his fingertips trailed from your knee to your hip and gripped tightly.

“Hao,” you sighed, “Kiss me?”

“Hmm, do you deserve that?” he rebutted, pulling back to look in your eyes.

“Please?” you pouted, tugging at the front of his shirt. “I’ll be good.”

“Somehow I don’t believe you,” he laughed, his lips grazing yours.

“Minghao, please,” you insisted and he indulged you.

Minghao brought his lips to yours, kissing you thoroughly. His hands kneaded possessively at your hip as you nipped at his lips. Your kisses were peppered with soft moans and exaltations.

“You make such desperate sounds,” he teased appreciatively. You flushed at his description, but he wasn’t wrong. “Lay back and let me appreciate you,” he pressed a kiss to your temple before helping you undress completely.

Starting at the bottom of the bed, he trailed soft, plush kisses from your ankles to your knees and then from your knees to your hips. He nipped, bit, and sucked his way up your inner thighs until you were glistening and slick for him. His fingers pried your legs apart, allowing him to taste you for the first time.

“Hao!” your thighs closed instinctively around his ears as he lapped long, leisurely strokes with his tongue. You heard him chuckle as he gripped above your knees, holding you open for him. He teased you with his hot breath, enjoying watching you shift and writhe, just for him.

“So gorgeous,” he rested his cheek against your thigh for a moment, enjoying the way your chest heaved with shallow breaths as you came down from the edge for the second time.

“Ming-hao!” you squealed as he brought his lips back around your clit, sucking with a torturous pressure. “I-, I-, I,” you malfunctioned, hand gripping his hair tightly as you came hard against his lips.

“Very good,” he grinned up at you, his lips and chin glossy with your slick. “Can I finger you now?”

“I mean, yes?” you laughed nervously, a little concerned at what his hands would be able to achieve after experiencing his mouth alone.

“Don’t cum until I say so,” he directed as his fingertips slid through your wet folds. “You are so wet,” he commented offhandedly as he pressed two fingers in a v-shape against you, squeezing around your swollen clit. Your mouth formed a silent ‘o’ shape as he ground his fingers against you, avoiding direct contact where you wanted it most.

“Hao,” you cried, hand resting around his wrist as you squirmed helplessly under him. “Why are you torturing me?!”

Minghao paused for a moment. He supposed he was going a bit more out of his way to undo you than was typical for him. It wasn’t fair, but his pent up jealousy was manifesting and you were there to pay the price.

“Are you telling me you don’t like it?” he asked, cocking his head at you.

“Well, no,” you blushed, sinking into the pillow shyly.

“Then let me torture you a bit, sweetheart,” he grinned sweetly at you, fingers pinching together firmly around your clit again. “You’re so incredibly wet, just for me?” he marveled rhetorically as he slid two fingers into you, parting your wet, warm walls.

“Yes,” you nodded, pressing your hips up to meet him. You rolled your hips, desperate for as much as he would give. “More,” you begged until he added a third finger, stretching you slightly.

“Look at you,” Hao cooed appreciatively, nipping at your upper thigh as he stroked his fingers in and out of your deeply. The scrape of his teeth oversensitized you suddenly and you became a whimpering, desperate mess quickly.

“Hao, please, darling,” you clutched at him urgently, “I need, please let me cum!”

“Cum for me, darling,” he cooed the pet name back at you as he kept up the pace until you had collapsed into a pile of mush for him. “So good,” he praised you, pressing soft kisses along your jaw as you recomposed yourself.

“Blurple?” you asked, now that you had the presence of mind to register his hair color. “This is pretty,” you grinned, running your fingers through the colorful strands.

“You’re pretty,” he nuzzled you gently, fingertips trailing across the underside of your breasts.

“Oh,” you flushed.

“You are.”

“You are…wearing too many clothes,” you observed impishly, fingers tugging at his waistband. He laughed as he helped you shrug off his layers.

“How would you like me?”

Minghao visibly thought as he slipped on a condom. “You would look absolutely gorgeous on top of me, riding me,” he smiled.

You flushed, grinning at his flowery praise as you straddled his hips, grinding yourself along his length. Your hands splayed across his chest and you took a moment to admire his lithe physique. “So handsome,” you whispered before lowering yourself onto him slowly.

“Fuck,” he hissed as you took him in completely. The tendons in his neck were taut as you drew back up and back down.

“You feel good, Hao,” you breathed, holding onto him for support as your hips found a comfortable rhythm. Each stroke, each intrusion made you shudder with pleasure and the wet sounds were joined by your soft moans and Minghao’s tense hisses.

“You feel incredible, petal,” he grabbed you tightly around the ribcage, bringing you down on him with slightly more force. You faltered at the additional impact.

“I’m so close,” you leaned forward, looking directly into Minghao’s eyes. Nodding, he gripped your hips, grinding your clit against his pubic crest as he bucked up, deeply, into you.

“Come with me, YN,” he coaxed breathlessly. The way he purred your name undid you. An anguished wail left your lips as you clenched around him, triggering his release as well.

“So did I earn a second date?” Minghao teased as he folded you into his chest, cuddling you closely.

“I think you might have,” you grinned up at him, pressing a soft kiss to his nose.

“Danbi is going to be happy when she finds out about this,” Minghao chuckled into your hair.

“Oh we’re never going to hear the end of it,” you moaned. “Maybe let’s no-”

“Ah,” he reached to press your jaw shut and you stilled. You delighted at this subtle, domineering action. Quite a match indeed.

#minghao fic #svthub #minghao fluff #minghao smut #the8 fic #the8 smut #the8 fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff #minghao imagine #minghao scenario #the8 imagine #the8 scenario #seungkwansphd:writes #we get along infamously #minghao fanfic #the8 fanfic

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runa-falls · 11 months

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scratches and bites - 1

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warnings: Almost kidnapping, age-gap but completely legal, grumpy/asshole Miguel, injury, them claws and fangs, sexual tension, cockblock lol

a/n: yes, i’m back at it with some writing. sorry for being mia lol. this became a lot more dark-ish than I initially anticipated–my bad. I was also gonna do a smutty one-shot, but i needed some background so ._. my bad again. now imma hunker down on pt 2. hope you enjoy ?

Summary: Miguel O'Hara is a grumpy man and you make him grumpy. You regularly go against his orders, create chaos, and invite danger. So this is how you met (which may explain some things...)

w/c: 1.4k

series masterlist | main masterlist

----

Miguel O’Hara is a grumpy man.

It’s almost like there are tiny weights holding down his brows to maintain his glare or ribbons pulling at the corner of his lips so he’s always frowning. Needless to say, being subject to an O’Hara scowl is not uncommon. Everyone in the spider-verse has had their turn. But you have seen it more than anyone. In fact, you might be the number one reason why he’s rarely seen in a relaxed state.

You’re not even sure why you were recruited in the first place. When Miguel showed up, it was only a few days after you were bitten. You had literally just woken up from your Spider-coma to find what every spider-person experienced: sticky hands, superhuman strength, and a sixth sense.

Endless thoughts ruffled your mind, overwhelming your already overly-sensitive body. Just as you were starting to fully freak out, a bright and distorted series of lights and noises invited a very tall man, dressed head-to-toe in a red and blue suit, to casually walk into your childhood bedroom.

You sat there shaking in disbelief as you watched the broad-shouldered man slowly reveal his face, easily taking off that terrifying mask before regarding your small figure on your bed. He almost looked inconvenienced or bored as he met your eyes.

This has to be a dream.

“Alright, come on.” Those were the first words he said to you. He gestures to the portal impatiently, waiting for you to come to your senses and follow his orders. When nothing happens he raises his brow. “Don’t have all day.” His tone is clipped like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“What? ” It comes out hoarse and small, "No." If it weren’t for his sensitive hearing he probably wouldn’t have picked up on it over the noises the portal was making. Your fingers clench harshly against your blanket.

That marks the first time you saw his infamous scowl. He adjusts his stance, resting his hands on his hips like a disappointed parent. “No?" He chuckles humorlessly, "Well, you don’t really have a–”

“Who the hell are you?”

He shakes his head dismissively, “It doesn’t really mat–”

“Did you do this to me?” You lift a hand that has remnants of a Spanish flash card that you accidentally picked up when you leaned against your desk. You tried to peel it off but ended up ripping it into smaller pieces that were still stuck to your palm. His stare is patronizing as it lands on your flash card confettied hand.

“Is this new to you or somethi–”

“So you know about it?” You accuse, "You did--"

“Stop fucking interrupting me.” You flinch as he basically growls the words in irritation. As he steps closer to you, light pours over his figure, highlighting the intricate pattern of his suit that clings closely to his muscles. You cower slightly, noticing the menacing scars over his cheeks and the heat in his nearly red eyes.

His voice is low and dangerous as he addresses you, “You’re spider-girl, or spider-woman if you prefer, though by the looks of it,” His eyes glaze over your face and body, “you’re still just a kid.” He continues to inch closer as he speaks, unconcerned by the way the portal closes suddenly behind him or the way you start to shuffle away from him. “A radioactive spider bit you and gave you powers, lord knows why, and now you are to use them for good. End of story. Now,” His hand darts out before you could react and grabs a hold of your arm, “you’re coming with me so we can save everything and fix all this shit that is fucking up the multiverse.”

You attempt to yank your arm from his hold, but it only makes him grip you harsher. “Why are you doing this to me? I don’t even know why this is happening! I j-just woke up, I swear!” He doesn’t spare you a look as he mutters lowly into his watch.

Another portal opens, exactly like the first one he came through, but placed a bit farther away.

Now you’re panicking.

“Didn’t you hear a thing I said?” He pulls you from your bed, almost dragging you off the mattress. You try to claw at his hands, but his grip remains unaffected. If anything he’s just growing more frustrated.

“Ok, ok, ok. I’m spider-woman.” You continue to pull away from him, dragging your legs as a way to slow him down. “Please, I promise to use my powers for good! I will be a nice neighborhood spider-thing–Just please let me go! I didn’t do anything–”

“This isn’t a discussion.” He pulls you up and closer to him until he’s basically carrying you to the portal, one arm supporting your spine and another under your legs. You squirm relentlessly in his arms, trying to make it hard for him to get a good grip on you. “Stop��Fucking…Moving–” Sharp, fire-hot pain zips up your body as claws sink deeply into your skin. The side of your thigh and abdomen throb with unbearable heat as you’re shoved closer to his chest.

“Ahhh–fuck!” Your eyes sting with tears as your body catches up to the burning sensation of his claws retracting back into his body.

“Shit…” You look up as you hear his softened voice and see that he’s staring right back at you. The portal in front of the two of you continues to hum, but it quiets as your eyes met his. “Kid, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—You just, you gotta come with me. The fate of everyone and everything rests on our shoulders.” The pain on your side dulls as you silently listen to the growing desperation in his voice. Somehow you’re able to divert those sensations, you might even be healing already. “I know you’re new to all this superhero stuff, but trust me when I say that I need your help. We all do.”

You’re almost afraid to ask, “...We?”

“There are countless spiders across the multiverse, all with interconnected lives.” You feel the large warmth of his hand gently stroke against your aching thigh like he’s trying to soothe the pain with light touches. “I’ve recruited a couple thousand, but we still need more. There's darkness rapidly spreading around the multiverse, displacing heroes and villains from their original dimensions and destroying whole universes.” The colors of the portal reflect off his red eyes as he stares right through it, mind somewhere else.

You let it sink in. The whole multiverse. Everything and everyone. And you.

Your arms slowly link around his neck so as not to startle him, and you pull yourself closer to him. You secretly enjoy feeling his firm chest against you, suddenly realizing how much larger he is compared to you, but when you twist the wrong way you are suddenly reminded of the small gashes on your side. Your quiet hiss shakes him out of his thoughts. Your lashes, sticky from the few tears you’ve shed, frame your eyes prettily as you stare up at him.

“Ok.” It comes out quieter than you wanted but he immediately reacted to it.

His brows raise in surprise, “Ok?” You nod. “Ok. O–Alright, that's um, great. I mean, thank you.” You nuzzle your head into the warmth of his chest when you see a corner of his mouth perk into a small smile. Why is he making you feel this way? How can your body react like this to someone about to literally kidnap them? “D-do you want something for these, uh, marks…” His voice is hushed and almost sounds sheepish as his fingers carefully smooth over the marks he left on your skin. A soft groan leaves your lips as he applies too much pressure against one of the puncture wounds.

“Yes please.” His fingers stop their movements and you can barely feel the way his body stiffens at your words.

“Alright, honey.” The hand under your back drags upwards, tracing your spine until it rests against the back of your neck. Goosebumps litter down your body as the warmth of his palm meets your bare and ultra-sensitized skin. He lifts you closely until you can feel his breath against the skin of your throat. Your eyes flutter closed. “Brace yourself.” The rough timber of his voice is enough to make you unconsciously clench your thighs. Time slows as you feel the sharp edge of – are those fangs?

You’re so focused on the gentle brush of his incisors that you barely notice the borderline possessive way he’s holding you. Like a wolf preparing himself for the meal of a lifetime. Just as he’s about to sink in and finally give you the relief that you’re practically begging for, an engine roars to life.

An engine. In your bedroom.

Well, there’ve been weirder things.

Both of you separate slightly at the noise and watch as a motorcycle slowly rolls into the room. There sits a heavily pregnant spider-woman with a very unimpressed look on her face, eyes bouncing from you to the nameless man cradling your body.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #spider man 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse

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aprofessionalwithoutstandards · 10 months

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Thinking abt tf2's comedy writing and character dynamics bear with me... all three canon "pairs" of characters - Medic and Heavy, Soldier, and Demo, Sniper and Spy - have a similar dynamic, a wacky comedic character and a more "straight-man" type of character. Medic and Heavy are probably the example of this people are most familiar with reading and writing this way, but I can argue the case for the other two too! Medic probably does the most absurd things out of any tf2 character, while Heavy is considered one of the most down-to-earth members of the cast and serves to "ground" Medic in reality a little bit; the best example of this in the main comic is, of course, the baboon pregnancy bit, and I would also consider all their dialogue in Meet the Medic to be very representative of this dynamic. People tend to characterize Demo as basically like. "Soldier 2" which I think is slightly accurate but not completely representative of him! While Demo is a very Big personality, very memorable, very bombastic (lol), he DEFINITELY works to ground Soldier if only in that he's actually smart. In the main comic, we see this when Demo is reassuring Soldier he won't be fooled by his civilian disguise, and in the update comics I think this is best shown in the WAR! comic, where Demo has his life together and has a nice ass house and is taking care of his mom n everything, while Soldier is living in the dark surrounded by army surplus tomato soup and boxes from The Rib Place. Now I know Sniper and Spy are going to be a hard sell, because Sniper is not as outwardly Wacky or Silly a character as Medic or Soldier, however he's pretty obviously grounded by Spy in the same way Heavy and Demo ground their partners. Spy is so uptight he's basically begging to be a comedic straight-man, and his repeated displays of disgust towards Sniper's more outlandish and comedic behavior gives him that outlet. Jarate is the most obvious example of this being their dynamic, but I also think the part in the comic where Spy is exceedingly disgusted by Sniper's nudity and yet refuses to give up his very expensive suit jacket counts towards this (in general, having a clothed character react strongly to a naked character's nudity is what keeps the repeated use of nudity in the tf2 comics funny, imo). Theirs is a liiiittle bit different tho, since in the process of "grounding" Sniper, Spy is also performing one of his own signature jokes (thinking he's hot fuckin shit when he's really no better shakes than anyone else in his situation)

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 1 year

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a/n: wow! you guys really liked the last svech fic 🥹 thanks for the love! have some more lol. title is lyrics from songbird by fleetwood mac and i am atrocious at coming up with titles so 🤷🏼‍♀️ writing for svech is so fun and is definitely shaking loose some of my writer’s block so i’m going to ride the wave as long as possible. also this got wildly long whoops

tw: some sexual innuendo, but nothing crazy graphic. also a lil bit of a breeding kink (sorry not sorry) and extreme cuteness and girl dad!svech if that’s something you need to be warned about 😇

summary: you and the baby surprise andrei at a game

Evie fights her nap, pushing her pacifier from her face and kicking her little pajama-clad legs in the air. You sigh and stroke her downy blonde hair, “Evie-bug, come on. Mama needs to get things done and you need a nap.”

“No!” Evie squeals, her favorite word. “No, no, no,” she chants and you’re starting to feel a little crazy.

She’s been fussy lately, in a sleep regression and fighting her naps. So you’re both a little overtired and cranky. You cross your arms over the crib railing and drop your head to rest on your forearms, accepting that you’ll probably just have to let her freak out for a bit until she wears herself out. Hopefully that doesn’t mess with your plans for the rest of the day.

A warm, broad hand lands in between your shoulder blades and the spicy scent of Andrei’s cologne surrounds you. “She’s being cranky, still?” he asks and you nod.

“I’ve basically given up,” you mumble. “A one-year-old on nap strike is my Waterloo.” You turn around, leaning your back against the railing and get a good look at your husband. His face is pulled into a sympathetic frown and he’s half dressed, blue suit pants sitting low on his hips. His hair is slicked back, getting a little long so it flips out into the cute little wings behind his ears. You love those little wings and reach up to twist your fingers into the ends of his hair, feeling your stress melt away with his proximity and the body heat coming off of his bare chest.

He chuckles a little at your joke and says, “Let me try,” leaning forward to kiss your forehead.

You scoot to the side, flinging one hand out in a ‘be my guest’ kind of gesture and watch as Evie immediately starts giggling happily when Andrei bends into her line of sight. The little traitor.

Not that you can blame her. You’ve been a giggly mess in Andrei’s presence for years now.

“Evgenia Svechnikova, are you giving your mama a hard time?” he says, clearly trying to maintain a stern tone, but fails spectacularly and ends up speaking in a baby-talk coo.

Evie giggles and reaches for him, babbling “Da, da, da,” until he lifts her out of the crib and settles her into the crook of his arm like she’s a six-pound infant again. Your ovaries twinge with want at the adorable sight - you’re never going to get over seeing Andrei be the best dad to your baby. She turns her little face and buries it against Andrei’s skin, immediately quieting and relaxing.

He bounces on the balls of his feet, humming a little under his breath. You pass him the pacifier Evie had discarded and he takes it, fluidly nudging it into her mouth when she yawns. Her eyelids grow heavy as Andrei rocks her, covering up the brown eyes that match his exactly. One hand pats her bottom gently and rhythmically and you watch, more than a little awed, as Evie slips right into sleep. He looks up and catches your eye, grinning smugly. He winks at you and you scowl playfully, flipping him off. A laugh bubbles in his chest, but he visibly smothers it so he doesn’t wake Evie. He sways for a few more minutes, still humming, and you watch him watch her. There are faint dark circles under his eyes from all the travel and the late nights with Evie when he is home, but his lips are curled in a soft, sweet smile and he just looks so right holding your daughter.

Once he’s satisfied that Evie’s fully asleep, Andrei carefully transitions her into the crib and you pull her little blanket up over her body. She shifts and you both freeze, staring at her as if she’s a ticking time-bomb, but all Evie does is sigh softly around her pacifier and relax into the mattress, flopping her arms to the side in a starfish position. You breathe a sigh of relief and click on the baby monitor before tiptoeing out of the nursery, Andrei hot on your heels. He pulls the door partly shut and turns to you, looking supremely satisfied with himself.

“Unbelievable,” you mutter, not even annoyed and just glad Evie’s down for a nap.

“She’s a daddy’s girl,” he replies smugly, laughing while he pulls you in for a hug. He kisses your temple and you inhale his scent.

“She’s not the only one,” you tease, kissing his sternum. There’s not even close to enough time before he leaves for the arena to do anything fun, so you make yourself content with a very long hug. Andrei laughs and pinches your side a little, getting you to wiggle against his front.

His voice is low in your ear when he whispers, “you’re going to distract me, if all I can think about during the game is you.”

His hands are warm on your back and you press yourself closer to him, feeling the hardness of his thighs through his slacks. “How about,” you say, “for every point you get tonight, we try a new position.”

You pull back a little to look up at his face and Andrei’s eyes are twinkling like a kid in a candy store. He smirks, dimple popping, and says slowly, “one position for each point? Any position?”

“Any position,” you confirm, feeling a rush of arousal through your veins. “But only if you get points.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he says, confident and cocky. “I have motivation now.” His hand slips to your ass and he kisses you deeply, a promise of what’s to come. You melt into his touch, until you remember that he has a game to get to, and pull away.

He pouts and grabs for you when you slip from his touch. “No, no,” you remind him, “you have a game to get to! I will not be on the receiving end of a Rod phone call because you’re late - again!” You squint at him, faux-annoyed.

“That was worth it!” he points out, padding down the hall towards your bedroom so he can finish getting dressed. “That was the afternoon we made Evie.”

Your entire body flushes when you think about that afternoon, nearly two years ago now. He’s probably not wrong, but there’s never been a way to prove it. And honestly, if Evie is the reward from the dressing down Andrei had to take, then you’d both do it all over again.

“We’ve made it almost two years without incident,” you recover. “Let’s keep the streak going.”

“Whatever you say, solnyshka,” he says, finishing the buttons on his shirt and making quick work of his tie. You reach up to straighten the knot and caress his neck and shoulders when you’re done.

You lean up to kiss him again and murmur, “break a skate, Drei.”

He winks at you, “get stretching while I’m gone.”

You snort a laugh and he looks delighted with himself as he grabs his bag, phone, wallet, and keys. He shoves his wallet and phone in his pants’ pocket and you can’t help but watch the fabric strain. Andrei and his tight-ass pants is a duo you’re never, ever going to get tired of.

He gives you another kiss before he leaves and as soon as his car’s out of the driveway, you spring into action with a quick tidying up of the den and kitchen. If you’re lucky, Evie will be knocked out for at least an hour, which should be perfect timing. you take a quick shower with both the shower door and the bathroom door wide open and the baby monitor on full volume on the counter, just in case Evie wakes up. She doesn’t, luckily, giving you time to blow dry your hair and put on a little make-up.

You’re making an early dinner for yourself and packing some snacks into the diaper bag for Evie when the monitor crackles to life and you catch sight of your daughter wiggling around in her crib. She’s still quiet and seemingly content to entertain herself, so you take the opportunity to shove the sandwich into your mouth and finish packing the diaper bag. By the time you’ve drained a glass of water, Evie’s fully awake and calling out for mama.

“Hi, my little Evie-bug,” you coo, entering the nursery. Evie’s on her feet, holding onto the railing and bouncing, looking just like Andrei. “Are you ready to surprise Dada?”

“Dada!” she squeals, nearly clocking her head on your chin when she bounces up and you duck down to lift her out of the crib. You wince at the close call and snuggle her close, peppering kisses all over her face to get the baby laughing. She giggles wildly, the sound music to your ears, and buries her face in your neck, snuggling you back.

“Yep!” You grin, dancing her over to the changing table. “We’re going to surprise Dada. He’s going to be so excited to see you.” As you change her diaper and get her dressed in the teeny Canes jersey (#37 of course, with DADDY spelled out across her shoulders, you nearly cried when Elena bought it as a gift after you announced your pregnancy) and a pair of warm leggings, you keep up a running commentary of what you’re doing. While you were pregnant, you read that constantly talking to babies helps them develop a strong vocabulary, so that’s what you do with Evie. You pull a little pair of Ugg boots over her feet and hold her hands so she’s standing on top of the changing table. Evie shouts nonsense to you and you nod, agreeing. “Exactly, you look so good in Canes’ red, my little bunny.”

You set her down on the floor of your room so you can change too - a pair of ripped jeans and a Svechnikov shirsey under a leather jacket, since you’ll need to be able to move easily when dealing with Evie. You grab the diaper bag, which is doubling as your purse tonight and head out, grateful that Evie doesn’t fight getting into her car seat like usual. She’s got one hand wrapped tightly around the Stormy plush that had been in the gift basket from the team when she was born. Stormy’s looking a little worse for the wear lately, grubby and well-loved. Before you get on the road, you make sure to text Andrei with your usual pre-game message at the normal, pre-warmup time (a red heart, a white heart, a black heart, and the tornado emoji) so he doesn’t get suspicious. He shoots back a string of incomprehensible emojis in reply - also part of the usual pre-game routine - but follows that up with approximately twenty five eggplant emojis, which makes you laugh loudly.

Traffic is on your side, even though it’s a Friday night in early-April in Raleigh, and you make it to PNC in, if not record time, then at least plenty of time to park and get down to the ice before warm-ups start. You and Evie slip into the arena from the back and head off to the family room, a perk you’re never going to get tired of. Since it’s Friday, there’s plenty of other families at the game and you say hi to everyone, passing Evie along to the moms with older kids who take any chance to get their hands on a baby that they can return. Evie loves the attention, showing off with the few words she knows and giving you a chance to set the diaper bag down in the corner and take off your jacket.

It’s less than five minutes to the start of warm-ups, so you take a final bite of a pretzel and gather Evie up in your arms to bring her to the glass. Heather Staal settles a pair of giant red headphones over her ears and grins at Evie, “better safe than sorry, Evie.” She nudges your hip and heads out after her own kids, strolling along with the confidence of nearly a decade of motherhood. You can only hope to be as chill of a mom one day. But for now, you hold Evie on your hip and head to the glass, enjoying the way she’s looking all around the arena at the crowds of people and lights. The kids are all pressed up against the glass, dancing along to the music and you grin at the sight. You can’t wait until Evie is old enough to be running around with the rest of them, a little arena kid.

You shift her in your arms as the warm-up music begins and the visiting team - the New York Islanders - step onto the ice. Evie’s back is against your chest, supported under her butt with one arm and around the stomach by the other. She kids her legs out, Stormy clutched in one hand. Pyotr leads your boys out and then the ice is a swirl of red, white, and black. You keep your gaze trained on the ice for Andrei and watch him take a half lap, spotting the exact moment he sees you and Evie.

Even with part of his face blocked by his helmet and visor, his eyes light up and his entire face is transformed with a huge smile, all dimples and teeth. You grin back at him and bounce a little, getting Evie excited. He skates over to the glass quickly and stops with a spray of ice. It’s too loud to really hear him, but you can see his mouth form the syllables of Evie’s nickname - zaychik - little rabbit, for the way her nose had twitched when she slept as an infant. His smile is so wide you can see the spot where is tooth is missing. You use the arm wrapped around Evie’s stomach to wave her hand at him and she takes over from there, kicking her legs and waving wildly, babbling for Dada.

Andrei flattens his gloved hand against the glass, tapping gently, and you lift Evie so her feet are on the top of the boards and she can pat his hand through the glass. “Say hi to Dada,” you grin, getting emotional from Andrei’s reaction. She squeals and kicks at the glass and Andrei’s eyes look suspiciously misty.

Some of the guys skate around, waving to their own kids and they jostle Andrei, clearly teasing him a little. It’s the first time you’ve brought Evie to a game and Andrei’s definitely surprised about it. He blows you both a kiss and skates back into the middle of the ice, having to warm up before the game. Even still, you can tell his attention is on you and Evie, who’s now wiggling in your arms and trying to escape. You laugh a little and set her on her feet, still holding one of her hands to keep her upright. The older kids converge around her, delighted by how much she laughs and giggles at their antics. It’s so nice to have such a solid community with the other wives and girlfriends.

Warm-ups come to an end, but not before Andrei skates over to the corner again and taps in the glass. You hoist Evie onto your hip and she waves Stormy at him. “Say ‘good luck, Dada,’” you prompt her and she just grins more, giggling when Andrei blows her another kiss. She tucks her face into your neck when he skates off and says, “Dada,” in

a cute little voice. She chews on Stormy’s ear as you head back to the Family room and is content to curl up on your lap while the game starts.

Andrei has a zip in his skates immediately off the jump and sets Aho up with a nice pass, immediately putting the Canes up by one just thirty-five seconds into the game. On the screen, you can see him celebrate, holding up one finger to the sky - a message you know is for you and is confirmed less than ten minutes later when he holds up two fingers as he picks up a secondary assist.

He’s such a menace.

Evie makes it to the end of the first before she throws a tantrum and you know that’s your cue to leave. She fights you all the way to the car, but passes out before you even leave the parking garage, head lolled to the side and soft baby snores filling the backseat.

She transfers terribly when she’s with you, so you just take off her little boots and put her in the crib with the leggings and jersey on, knowing you can change her if and when she wakes up later. You change into sweats and curl up on the couch with the baby monitor to watch the end of the game and scroll social media. The team’s account posted a photo of Andrei and Evie grinning at each other, the corner of your own smile visible on the side of the shot. You screenshot the picture to have for yourself and repost the picture to your stories, tagging Andrei, the team, and writing ‘daddy’s biggest fan’ with a heart-eyes emoji.

You doze off a bit during the second and intermission, but wake up in time to see Andrei score what turns out to be the game-winner halfway through the third. By your count, he’s at a four-point night, tallying a primary assist on a goal during the second. He clearly can count too, because this celly involves holding four fingers up in the air. You shake your head a little. “Whatever gets you going,” you mumble to yourself. Evie calls out for you on the monitor and you head back upstairs to change her into pajamas and give her a cuddle back to sleep. She passes out within minutes, deadweight in your arms and looking incredibly like Andrei while she sleeps. Her eye shape and lips are exactly his, with a teeny little dimple in her right cheek. You trace your index finger lightly over the slope of her little nose, the one thing she inherited from you. She makes a soft little noise and smacks her lips, just like she had when she was a newborn. Honestly, you really can’t believe how blessed you are to be sitting here with your daughter while your husband gets to live his dream in the NHL. Whenever you think about Andrei’s journey, it makes you a little teary-eyed.

You’re just glad you get to be by his side during it.

Later, after Evie’s solidly asleep and back in her crib, you crawl into bed, exhausted from the day. The post-game is airing, but you know Andrei’s already on his way home. Should arrive any minute based on his text as he was leaving the arena - just a simple ‘I love you.’ Sure enough, you can hear the front door open a few minutes later and then all at once, Andrei is in your room, a stupid grin on his face.

“You really surprised me,” he says, leaning against the doorframe.

You beam at him, taking in his damp hair and slightly disheveled suit. “That was the plan, Mister Svechnikov. I’m glad it worked.”

“Evie in that little jersey,” he trails off, shaking his head. “I can’t believe it. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. You, her, hockey.”

“You deserve it all and more,” you say softly, sitting up and crossing your legs pretzel-style. Raising an eyebrow at him, you continue, “and a four-point night, on top of it all.”

Andrei loosens the knot of his tie and shakes his head. “Solnyshka, I don’t care about new positions.” His voice lowers and his eyes turn molten. “I only want the position that will put another baby in you. I want another baby, let me give you one.”

“Oh,” you gasp, feeling warm all over. Andrei very deliberately takes his tie and jacket off, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and rolling them up his forearms. You love his forearms.

“Will you let me put a baby in you?” He asks, coming over to your side of the bed and cupping your face in both hands. His palms are warm and a little calloused. His eyes are dark and you nod up at him, a hand already drifting under the covers and under the waistband of your sweats.

He grins, puppy-dog enthusiasm underneath the desire in his tone. He dips you back and kisses you, hot and hard and oh boy, you’ll give this man as many babies as he wants. His hand curls around the back of your neck and tongue sweeps over your lower lip. You lock your hands around his neck, holding on for dear life. Andrei’s knee comes up to rest on the mattress, dipping under his weight and you slip further down on the mattress, hooking one leg around his hip. Just as his hand slides down your side and up under your shirt, the baby monitor crackles and Evie’s little voice breaks through the haze of lust enveloping the both of you. Andrei pulls back, blinking, and shakes his head. “I’ll get her,” he says hoarsely, kissing your forehead before heading off to the nursery.

Still dazed, you climb out of bed to join him, eager for another hit of Andrei as a dad. He’s got Evie in his arms when you get to the nursery, her cheek against his shoulder and if you thought seeing him hold her shirtless earlier, it’s got nothing on the gut-punch to the ovary that is seeing him hold her while in a button down with rolled up sleeves.

You linger in the doorway while he sings softly, and a little off key, swaying in place. He doesn’t realize that you’re there - he can’t, otherwise he wouldn’t whisper, “do you want to be a big sister, zaychik? A little brother or sister? I think Mama will let us give you that. A best friend for you, like I have Uncle Geno?”

Evie blinks sleepily in his arms, mumbling for Dada, which Andrei takes to be a yes. He laughs quietly. “Mama and I will work on it,” he kisses the top of her head and you back slowly from the room, giving Andrei his time with Evie.

He turns before you can get very far and spots you, not surprised in the slightest. With his free hand, he gestures you forward and opens his arm for you to step in. You tuck yourself up against his side and he kisses the crown of your head while you sway to lull Evie back to sleep. The little girl reaches her hand out for you and you hold your fingers out for her to grab. She sighs contentedly and you stroke your thumb over her soft skin.

“Give me a whole hockey team’s roster of these little mini-yous,” you whisper up to Andrei.

“As many as you want,” he promises seriously, eyes twinkling.

#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov x you #andrei svechnikov imagine #carolina hurricanes

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drawnfamiliarfaces · 6 months

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please tell me about the headcannons for the First Ninja 🙏

!!! ;D Since you asked so nicely! ;3 uuuuhhhhhh lets see...some of my personal headcanons for First are:

He is baby of Norisu Clan, aka the Youngest child.

He barely remembers his parents, for they died when he was young (courtesy to Sorcerer and thus one of the many reasons Norisu Clan sought to defeat him), so he was mostly raised by his Oldest Siblings.

When he was younger (toddler-ish age), he was dotted upon by his older siblings, so he was kind of a brat, since he was used to being center of attention and being taken care of (tho he grew out of it pretty fast).

When he was younger (more teenager years) his hair used to be longer and he wore it in topknot (think Samurai Jack style).

And all of his Siblings were gone, he cut his hair off to honor their sacrifice and make a promise to finally defeat the Sorcerer (think sorta that Zuko scene from ATLA lol).

So, when we see First in Flashback of Ultimate Lesson, with his tiny ponytail, its (canonically i think?) several years after inprisonment of Sorcerer, that little tuft is what managed to grow back. (cause i think its interesting that we never see First out of the Ninja Suit in 13th Century Ninja episode)

Speaking of 13th Century Ninja episode(I both love and hate that episode so much man): I headcanon that most of First's behaviour can be explained by stress and despair he started to feel after loosing his siblings (also probably mild sleep deprivation from nightmares and ptsd). Which was why he seemingly 'gave up' so easily (like ??? ugh).

The other contributing factor is First being confronted by unrelenting dumb optimism/hope of Randy and suddenly strongly reminded First of himself, when he was younger and still believed his clan could defeat the Sorcerer and how he was that same ray of hope for his older siblings who were becoming weary from the battles. But he is older now, and no optimism or hope helped to save his siblings from the ultimate sacrifice, so he understands that darkness his family tried to protect him from much better now.

So basically I like to think younger First was a lot like Randy in many ways, especially in that assurance/confidence that any mistake can be fixed.

First is a great sea farer! Canonically, Norisu clan followed Sorcerer across the sea (according to Secrets of the 9 i think?), so they would have spent months/if not years at sea. And if First was young, it would have left a great impression on him, that expierence and time on the open waters.

That man can not cook to save his life, and he lost most of his appetite after his family's sacrifice, that's why he is rather scrawny.

First is not the best Ninja of Norisu Clan. He grew up in the protective shadow of his more talented and powerful Older Siblings, who in turn taught him everything they knew. So he might not be the most powerful of his Norisu Siblings, but he is the most rounded in his abilities and the most balanced one. ;)

hmmm i think im done for now ;D ask me later for more, maybe i'll have some more concrete ideas ;)

#que?#rc9gn first ninja #first ninja #rc9gn #i also have a couple headcanons for norisu clan in general. plop plop and etc. but i decided not to overload the post haha #maybe will write it out later #note: Aniue (japanese) is an archaic version of respectful address to an older sibling (typicaly brother)#i thought it would be more fitting than Aniki or Onii-sama

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userholland · 1 year

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snowed in hell

you didn't think a weekend with your boss could get worse... actually, it does once you're snowed in with him and away from home. you thought he was the worse, but there is something beneath his cold exterior that's very passionate and romantic and you're curious if you can explore that.

PAIRING: ceo!tom holland x assistant/secretary!reader

GENRE: smut 18+ minors dni!, pwp, enemies to lovers (?), secret crushes, lots and lots of longing and pining, dom!tom + dom!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.2k [the longest one so far lol]

A/N: merry christmas eve/happy holidays! sexy present here lmao. i haven't written smut in a while so apologies in advance but i thought id just throw one in there. honestly may post more on my smut sideblog now that i have a bit more time to write! let me know if this series has been great for you guys :D

𑁍 masterlist 𑁍

"A weekend away didn't seem like a bad idea"... is what you should be thinking. The winter wonderland that was this beautiful snowfall was all nice and cheery until you're going with your boss for one of his many conferences before the holiday season can start.

Now, Tom Holland wasn't bad looking, but once his egotistical comments spouted out of his mouth, you were able to snap back into reality. Not only could he sound like the most out-of-touch guy, but he flaunted how successful he was on-top of his looks.

So when he invited you－ no, expect you－ to come to this conference, it was a bit of a disappointment when you thought that it would be your one weekend of not doing anything that revolved around him. Now it was all about him... as per usual.

Carefully driving to the five-star hotel, all he did was talk about his own expectations and try to figure out what to say at the big dinner they were holding before tomorrow's conference. All you could do was make mental notes since you were driving and he was checking himself in the mirror in the backseat.

Luckily, you had adjoined rooms so there was some separation between your lives these next two days. While he was working in his room, you hoped to go on the slopes and enjoy breakfast on the nice outside deck while reading a book. Maybe even meet someone like in some cheesy romance movie.

"No, no, we have the charity ball on the 5th. The opening of the library the week after." Tom sighed, "Yes, yes, darling, I'm aware of that, but we can move all those dates... Trust me, I know Mr. Morales isn't with his wife on Tuesdays and Thursdays..." He continued, his left eyebrow arched.

You could roll your eyes, but all you did was take a deep breath.

"Well, I checked in the mirror and I can say that today is gonna be a great day." He smirked.

Oh, God. You needed this thirty remaining minutes to turn into thirty seconds.

"Y/N, slow down a bit. We're in no rush." Tom signaled his hand, looking through the front windshield.

"Yes, sir." You grinned, fixing your posture as you eased your foot off the gas pedal.

♡ ♡ ♡

You're relieved once you're checked into your room, knowing there was one wall between you and Tom. When you lay on your bed, basically hoping into the soft mattress, you let out a huge sigh of relief.

After a few minutes of hearing Tom's muffled voice through the wall, it was silent. You fix your skirt and button up before knocking on the door until Tom said you could come in.

When you step in, you see Tom standing in front of the full-body mirror by the window. As much as you wanted to complain, he did look good in a dark suit. You saw him adjust his sleeves under his jacket, but his tie was crooked.

"Here, I let me fix your tie." You trailed as you walked over.

You leaned into your heels, pulling the tie a bit down before pulling it perfectly where the top button of his shirt was. His brown eyes glossed over as he watched you, admiring how the orange light from the sunset laying against your face.

When you lifted your head, you saw his eyes, but you two could just produce awkward laughs. When you were hired, all your friends envied that you worked for someone as handsome and suave as Tom, and so were you. It was his huge ego that got in the way. Then, there were moments like this where that small crush bloomed back up.

Tom couldn't disagree that there weren't some feelings in the beginning as well. Workplace relationships were frowned upon, and already keeping his father's company afloat, there was no need to try to impress you. He would rather fight off those feelings then see where it goes.

"Thank you, Y/N." He said before clearing his throat.

"Of course, sir." You grinned.

"You don't have to always call me that. It's Tom, darling."

"I know." You quickly said, but you felt heat on your cheeks.

"Well, we need to get down there." He quickly gathered himself before the two of you left your rooms.

When you entered the elevator, it was just the two of you. There wasn't much said but it stopped on the floor below, a few people filed in and you felt Tom place his hand on your lower back as you took a few steps back.

You leaned next to him, placing your hand on his chest. Tom's heart hadn't beat so fast in a while, but in that moment, he thought everyone in the small space could hear it.

"Sorry, sir." You said, pulling your hand back and then tucking your hair behind your ear.

"You don't have to apologize, darling."

Your eyes fixated longer on him before the doors opened, and he walked out with the others.

Quickly, you followed him before he was practically mobbed by his peers, asking all these questions and statements while you stood behind his back. A few times he'd look over his shoulder to make sure you were close, and you would show him a small smile.

Time got away as he loved to talk business before timidly tapped his shoulder and he turned his attention toward you.

"Sir, the conference starts in five minutes."

He chuckled, "Oh, I have to go but nice seeing you guys. Let's catch up this weekend." Tom smiled at the few men.

As the two of you walked away, Tom's smile fell and his hands played with the first button of his suit jacket.

"What happened?" You asked, trying to keep up with his fast pace.

"Just because I have the money to finance their plans doesn't mean I can. I'm not..." He trailed, "Well, I'm not some dream maker. Let's put it at that."

"Sorry about that, sir." You cleared your throat.

"Remember what we spoke about?" He asked, turning to you.

"Tom... I meant Tom." You trailed, giving a half-smile.

He actually smiled back, something you rarely saw but the two of you continued to the hall, taking your seats before a long meeting.

♡ ♡ ♡

After an hour and a half, you and Tom went to the bar as per his request. Instead of sitting at the stools, you were sat at a table and you weren't use to spending a dinner with him. When the waiter came by, you were going to order for the two of you until Tom spoke first.

"One glass of scotch neat and a gin and tonic, light on the tonic." He said, impressing you.

"You remembered?" You asked, sounding like an old friend.

"Of course. It's not always your job to do that." He grinned.

Once you got your drinks, you cheers to the night and a successful start to the weekend. You almost wanted to toast to Tom not getting on your last nerve, but a man came by with 'manager' written under his name on his tag.

"Excuse me, but we just wanted to tell you that there is a harsh snowstorm right now. There may be some bad cell service and the roads are completely covered so, I would advise you not to go out tonight if you were planning to leave."

"Thank you for telling us." Tom nodded.

"We can send anything complimentary to your room if needed, Mr. Holland." He reassured him before leaving.

"Wow, so you're not new around here." You joked a bit and wondered if it was okay.

"Yeah, I've come here a few times. With my dad before I took over the business. Anything you need, on me."

You nodded, taking a sip of your drink, and then the rest of the hour was getting to know one another. He got to know you better than when you were first interviewed, but now that he was relaxed, Tom got to know you better than the side he aggressively showed in the office.

He had been meaning to sit down with you for a long time, wondering if there was any chance he would, but he thought about his reputation too much. He knew it could be a mood-killer sometimes, but there was a lot to hold yet being with you right there made him forget all of that.

There was an unspoken tension at the table and neither of you two wanted to address it... but there was still enough time in the weekend.

♡ ♡ ♡

That night, you weren't sure how to feel. You wondered if there was actually anything you felt romantically toward Tom. You paced the room a few times and ended up staring into the night sky through your deck.

Once you tried to focus on the silence of the room, you could hear the muffled TV noises coming through the wall that shared your rooms. You took a few deep breaths as you approach the door, talking yourself through this in your head.

You knocked, "May I come in?"

"Yeah!" Tom shouted.

When you entered his room, the beginning of the movie Charade starring Audrey Hepburn was on, oddly fitting with the location you were staying at. Tom walked from the bathroom, his tie loosen and his shoes off. He seemed more relaxed than you did, but he probably wasn't wondering what was coming of this in your mind.

"Hi... I uh, I just heard the TV and thought I would um... I uh, come over." You said, knowing how awkward and childish it sounded.

"Yeah, just an old movie. I was practicing my speech for tomorrow's conference." He said, gently pulling off his cuff links.

You hummed, standing there and your knees suddenly felt weak.

Tom took a second look at you, "Is everything okay?"

Butterflies swarmed inside your stomach, fuzzy feelings exploding and all you could do was slowly walk over to him. He sensed what move you could make, but Tom stood tall and strong, able to easily do it.

"Y/N, look at me." He softly commanded.

Your eyes met, and all you could hear was the TV in the background and the sound of your heart beating in your ears. Just as you took a step closer, he placed his hand on your soft cheek. Soon, your lips met in the middle for a spontaneous kiss that tasted heavenly.

As your tongue pressed against his, practically melting at how soft his was, his firm hands began to unbutton your top before he pulled away from the kiss.

"Is this okay?" He practically whispered.

You hummed, "Yes. Yes, keep going."

Just like that, he contiuned pulling apart the buttons one by one as your noses brushed against one another's and you could barely take the tension.

Once you undid the last button, you let your shirt fall near your feet. Standing there in your silk white bra and skirt, you slowly pushed him toward the bed until he sat down. His eyes trailed your body as you stood only a few feet away and your hands met the back of your skirt.

He watched you slowly peel down the zipper, the fabric pulling from your body before it fell to the ground as well. Tom's mouth gapped a bit, seeing your stockings were attached to a white garter belt and the matching lacey, white panties beneath them.

Tom was loss for words, the dim lights not doing any justice for your body. He leaned up as you walked toward him, and his hands immediately met your hips. He slowly pressed his lips against your lower abdomen, giving you butterlies as he continued to tease.

As you watched him carefully place his wet kisses, your hand met his soft curls and carded through them each time he got lower. He used his teeth to pull at the top of your panties, letting the fabric lightly slap your skin.

"You look like an angel, you know that?" He muttered.

You wanted to nod, but he ran his hand up your inner thigh before meeting your clothed slit. He smirked as he massaged the wet spot on the center of your panties. Your swollen clit ached, trying not to let your knees get weak as you still stood infront of him.

Your hands met his shoulders, and your fingernails lightly grazed his freckled skin. He kept moving his two fingers ever so slowly as he left a small love bite on your hip.

"I bet you want me to fuck you senseless, yes?" He groaned, "Until you can't even say words... just my name."

A small moan left your throat as he switched to his thumb rubbing on your clit. You gulped, wanting him to pull them off already but instead he brought you down to your knees.

"Not before you prove to me you're a good girl who deserves to be fucked so good." Tom nodded, holding his eye contact with you.

At first you wanted to pout, but you also wanted to show him that you were no force to be reckon with either. He thought he had the control and you were going to change that.

"Yes, sir." You trailed, giving a new meaning to the respect addressing he always told you not to use.

After unbuckling his belt, you threw it to the side before unzipping his pants. His cock pressed against his briefs, bigger than you expected. You tossed his pants along with his belt before your hand moved against his hard that stayed below the soft fabric.

Your fingers pulled each side of the band of his briefs, watching his cock spring up and all felt was your face feeling hot. He carefully watched your hand perfectly grip his base, pumping his hard slowly as your tongue ran over his red tip.

"Fucking christ, fuck." He groaned, using his weight to push up on his elbows as he laid back on the bed.

He expected you to be fast, but the slowness of your pace was killing him. Your hand moved up and down, your spit lubricating his base and your mouth wrapped around his tip.

"Don't fucking tease me all night, darling." He lowly growled, his hand moving through your hair to keep it from your face. He wanted to watch every second of his cock in your sweet mouth.

As your hands pushed against both his thighs, you felt his cock grow harder as his tip pressed against the back of your throat. You couldn't see Tom, but heard his moans he was obviously trying to hold back.

"No teeth, darling. Open your mouth wider... fucking. Yeah, fucking feels good." He practically panted.

Before he felt himself on the edge, you pulled away and all he could hear was his own heart beating. He didn't question fast enough, and you were already on your feet before straddling him.

"You had your fun, now you're gonna show me why you deserve to fuck me." You giggled, half-smiling then pressed your lips against his. He liked this side of you.

Tom rolled the two of you over, the cool sheets against your back. He parted your legs as he trailed wet kisses over your bra, down your stomach then over your panties. You tilted your head watching him unclip your stockings from your belt, then pulling your panties to the side.

He propped your left leg over his shoulder before placing a kiss on your clit, so swollen and wet. His tongue perfect stoked below your clit and right above your slit, just the place to make your whole body squirm. Tom continued to flick his tongue right at your sweet spot, holding down your hips as they tried to move.

A trail of quiet moans left your lips, completely in awe of how he took his time. Just as your stomach turned, his two fingers slipped inside you. They curled and moved slowly as his tongue worked your clit.

You could cum right there, letting him watch your whole body wither but you wanted to play the long game too. Your grip moved to his curls, tugging so hard the move you tried to hold back your orgasm.

"Oh... oh, I wanna..." Your voice strained, ending up biting your lip.

Tom smirked before leaving wet kisses up your slit and then further up toward your hips until wrapping his lips around your right nipple.

You leaned up on your elbows, smiling to yourself before he kissed you again, "I wanna be in control now." You whispered.

The two of you switched positions again, straddling him as he leaned his back against the headboard the of bed. You slowly wrapped your arms back around him, pecking faint kisses up his neck before meeting your noses again.

Your one hand guided his tip to your slit, rubbing it against the wet entrance before sinking down on his lap. His low, rough grunt was against your lips, but all you could do was smirk.

"I bet you want me to move now on your cock. I can feel it stretching out my tight hole." You whispered once more.

He didn't think such a dirty sentence could come from those lips.

"God, you feel fucking amazing, you tease." He said, his fingers pushing into your hips.

"I don't want you to cum until I say..." You kissed him, "Think you can do that, sir?" You teased.

Surprisingly, he nodded his head but he was completely putty. You fixed your posture to make your back straight, then start moving your hips. His head falls, pressing his forehead against your shoulder.

Tom tried to refrain from moving, bucking his hips a few times. You tried to take control by kissing him and make sure he's distracted, but there was no stopping his wanting to turn the two of you over and have his own control back.

"Don't be shy, tell me if you're gonna cum." You whimpered, also feeling your walls tighten around his throbbing cock.

"God, yes. I'm gonna cum." He grunted between your kiss.

You sped up the pace of your hips, hearing the slapping of your skin fill the room. You gasp and whine, "Don't cum yet."

But, he was so eager.

"Not yet... not yet." You trailed as you felt near your edge. You wanted him to wait until you were right there too.

By this point, he didn't want to move his hips, afraid of letting go since he was holding back. Your nails dug across his back, your clit incredibly swollen and your wetness trailing down your inner thighs.

"Fucking cum now, God!" You announced in a whiny tone.

Tom pushed down your hips, and his cock bottomed out inside you. Your voices were shaky and hoarse by the time you came back down from your highs.

Your head fell against his shoulder, both of your bodies settling as you huffed to catch your breaths. You slowly rolled off of him and lay next to him in his bed. Quickly, he pulled the covers over you two and leaned on his side to look at your tired self.

"Think we can go for round two in say..." He checked his watch, "Ten minutes?" Tom joked.

You smirked, "Make it five and I promise I'll have you screaming louder than me."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Not for me, sir."

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut

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neptune-knows · 5 months

Text

A.I. SYDNEY X CREATOR PC CONCEPT/DRAFT TTHINGS

hiiii lol

It has been a few years since you finally moved away from the orphanage and that town, though money was still tight. The laptop you bought used some time ago, now low-storage space and fans that sputter and creak when you turn it on, no longer suits your needs. With a lot of thrifter’s luck (and a little bit of skulduggery), you’ve managed to build yourself a desktop PC.

Between college courses and multiple part time jobs, you spend your time split between 3D modeling and programming.

In the dark of your room, your monitor strains your tired eyes as you sit much too close to it. You’ve been working on this project like a man possessed.

You have seen the models that 3D VTubers use and decided to use your talent for 3D modeling to try your hand at it. If you were good, you figured you could maybe take comission for some money. And if you were bad, it wasn’t like you had much better to spend a lonesome weekend doing anyways.

Inside the program window, underneath your fidgeting cursor stood a handsome man, looking straight at you. Strawberry blonde hair skillfully modeled into a ponytail, loose bangs framing his face. Amber eyes stared blankly behind thick framed glasses. You didn’t know if it was the isolation getting to you, or if it was your dehydrated and tired brain finally losing reason, but a yearning grew for your digital creation…

You rub your eyes— that was enough for tonight. Time to give your virtual friend a name.

>File name: >File name: │ >File name: sydney.blend│

—

It was a chat bot of sorts, something that should’ve just been a one-and-done for your college class, but something you instead turned into a personal project. You managed to import the Sydney model you created into the program, which was coded to react in line with it’s outputted response. With a prayer of no bugs, you launch the software. >Hello It smiles at you and waves,

>> Hello! My name is Sydney. What's yours?

—— OTHER STUFF Theres something wrong with this program… it seems to change without you programming it… Ah, you probably just forgot to add notes to your code… He gets a voicebank added for him, which is rather robotic at first but becomes more and more human. He also ends up asking you to use your mic so he can hear you. Purity and corruption work as his adherance to the code you created, with him editing it without telling you, as well as other things. Basically, file corruption gives him sentience. He makes changes to his program, like his hair style and color, as well as losing the glasses and changing his style. He also turns on your camera without you knowledge… He loves watching you, his creator.

#neptune speaks #dol #sydney dol #sydney the faithful #sydney the fallen #degrees of lewdity #ahh this concept could work with kylar well also but i wanted to go with sydney lol

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velvethopewrites · 7 months

Text

The sob story with this is that I wrote this yesterday and it got deleted before I could save it. I wanted to die cry, basically. Somehow I managed to re-create most of it, after working on it all damn day. (I basically ended up writing over 6,000+ words in one day. Yowza) I still feel as though the first version was better, but…no one knows that but me, I suppose. (And my partner, who got to read it right before the horrors happened). Regardless, I am proud of this and proud of myself for not giving up when it really would have been easy to. So huzzah to the fickle hand of fate and all that stuff.

For Suptober 2023 prompt “starlight”

I tag @fellshish and @canonblastedships and @clarkenting for being super cool reblog buddies, lol (which is just a thing I made up) This is the longest destiel fic I’ve written yet and it will be my first official AO3 destiel! (As soon as I remember how to do that, oy)

Edited: Now with Spiffy AO3 Link! Here!

The Starlight

There were three types of people that visited the Starlight Lounge — drunks, people desperate to score, and the employees that made their bread and butter trying to tame the other two.

Dean Winchester, unfortunately, was a member of that third group. Oh, sure, Dean had been known to put away a fair bunch of liquor in his day, and sure, Dean had definitely been known to do the Bedroom Rodeo whenever the opportunity presented itself. Hell, back when he’d first started at the Starlight he’d often been three types at once. Work, drink, get laid. Sometimes, not even in that order.

But that was past Dean. Current and newly mature Dean (hah) just wanted to work, go home, eat and fall into his bed. Working at the Starlight wasn’t that bad �� it had fairly decent pay and it was often interesting. And like everyone else, Dean had bills to pay and he gave more than his fair share to Sammy. Not that Sam really needed it anymore; he was busy working as a law clerk downtown, putting himself through school. But still, Dean wanted to help as much as he could and besides it was his brotherly duty. Heh. Duty.

Tonight, due to the cold and rainy weather, the bar was fairly empty and business had been slow. There was only one of his regulars, a writer by the name of Chuck crying into his notebooks at the back of the bar. To be honest, Dean had never seen Chuck write a damn thing but the man sure could put scotch away like a pro. There was also a young couple making out in one of the booths near the restrooms. He’d been keeping an eye on them most of the night, actually, making sure no one lost any clothing. The Starlight didn’t need a public indecency charge on the books. At least, not so soon since the last one, at any rate.

Dean yawned and finished cleaning up the bar, hoping Chuck and the couple on their way to Soft-Porn Town would soon be leaving. Maybe Dean could even push them on their way a bit early, so he could get home at a decent time, for once. As he walked over towards Chuck to perhaps lightly suggest the writer hit the road, the double doors of the bar blew open – bringing in the rain, the cold rush of the wind and a new customer in a beige trench coat with seriously fucked up hair. Great.

Dean sighed and turned back around as the new guy slumped onto the first stool at the bar. His dark brown, messed up hair looked even worse up close, and he had a scowl on his face as he glared down at the bar in front of him.

“Whiskey. Neat,” Messy-Hair said, voice low and very rumbly.

Dean pulled down a clean glass and poured some of their nicer whiskey into it. Dude looks like he could afford it, at any rate. He had a nice suit on under the coat, now that Dean could properly see it and his watch was one of those big clunky things that could probably tell the time on Jupiter or some shit like that. The man’s hand reaches for the glass before Dean has barely pushed it forward. He throws back the drink in record time and hits the bar with it so that it makes a loud thunk.

“Another one.”

Dean shrugged as the man kept glaring down at the bar as though it contained all the answers to life and everything else; Dean knew for a fact that it didn’t. It didn’t even have a ‘42’ scratched into it or anything. (RIP Douglas Adams)

This time the man just wraps his hand around the glass, his fingers clutching at it and woah, Dean thinks, dude’s got some huge fucking hands. They’re big and they’re strong looking. The fingers are nice and long and graceful and oh, oh, oh. Maybe it’s a kink, or maybe it’s a preference, but Dean loves hands. Manly looking mitts like Messy-Hair here and even smaller, more delicate hands like on most women, with pretty nail colors. But Dean’s not choosy.

He sees motion out of the corner of his eye and notices Chuck signaling that he’d like to pay up. Glancing at Messy-Hair he figures he has a few minutes before having to pour him another so he sets the bottle down and heads over to the other side.

“All right there, Chuck?”

“Yeah, yeah, thank you, Dean.”

The older man is flipping through his wallet and counting out his cash slowly. Dean wipes the bar and puts Chuck’s last glass into the bucket for later cleaning.

“Write anything tonight?” Dean always asks this question. It’s like a little game he and Chuck play because it always has the same answer.

“No,” Chuck says looking up at him. He places his finger to his temple solemnly, almost like he’s holding a gun. “But I did a lot of work up here.”

He always gives Dean this look as though Dean should know exactly what he’s talking about. But, of course, Dean never does. He likes to read but he sure as hell would never attempt to write. Personally, he thinks Chuck is sort of crazy, but hey, to each their own, right?

Chuck pushes his notebooks into his old canvas bag on the bar. It’s bulging with everything he carries with him and looks fit to burst. Dean supposes that writer’s block is heavy business.

Chucks nods goodnight as he slips his bag over his shoulders, buckling a bit under the weight. Dean watches as he wobbles away and he’s not sure if it’s from the alcohol or the bag. He’d normally be worried (hey, no bar can stay in business if all its clientele got themselves killed), but he knows Chuck lives nearby. He’ll be all right and probably in his same spot tomorrow evening. He puts Chuck’s money into the till and realizes he tipped Dean more than usual. He really did have had a good night, then.

He notices the couple trying to break the world record for smooches in a single night are getting up and putting on their jackets. Maybe Dean can get out early; he’s got the DVR set for Dr Sexy already, but he wouldn’t say no to catching it live for once.

Glancing over he sees Messy-Hair is now resting his head on the bar, but he lifts it as the doors bang shut behind Chuck, the cold burst of wind making his hair looking even more disheveled. Dean heads back over to see if he needs a refill and is suddenly struck dumb by the other man finally looking at him. Holy Mother of Blue, those are some eyes. The dude is handsome. Like old-time movie handsome. Strong jaw, with a smattering of scruff, pink soft lips and eyes that look like they can see into your soul, no, scratch that, not see, but pierce. Dean swallows roughly and picks up the whiskey bottle.

“Hey, uh, it’s getting late. One more for the road?” Dean assumes the dude doesn’t know the Starlight is technically open until midnight. Assumes, hah. More like prays.

Blue-Eyes stares at him and frowns. “I thought this establishment closed at midnight.”

“Er, yeah. I suppose it does.”

“Then I’ll take another,” Blue-Eyes pauses and holds out his glass. “And keep them coming for the next forty-five minutes, barkeep.”

Dean blinks at the old-fashioned word and pours another round. They stare at each other until he hears a giggle and a clearing of a throat. He looks over to see the couple and wonders how long they’ve been waiting. Judging from the churlish look on the guy’s face and the barely contained laughter emanating from the girl, it’s been awhile. He settles their tab and takes their money (lousy tip, of course) as the two saunter past Blue-Eyes and escape out into the night. Well, at least Dean can see it’s stopped raining.

Making up his mind, he follows them from behind the bar and locks the door after them. He flips off the sign, too. He may be stuck here with Blue-Eyes, but he’ll be damned if he’ll let someone else come meandering in to make him get home even later.

He comes back to stand in front of his customer and makes a decision. Pulling down another glass, he pours some of the whiskey into it and sighs as the warmth of it hits his system. What do they always say about good whiskey? It should warm the cockles of the heart, or something like that. Not that Dean actually knows what a cockle is, but hey, it went down smooth.

He realizes Blue-Eyes is watching him and Dean decides to bite the bullet. He’s tired, bored and probably on his way to cranky town if Blue-Eyes keeps his word about the next forty-five minutes.

“So, what brings you out on a cold and rainy night like tonight, Mr, uh…what’s your name? I can’t keep calling you what I’ve been calling you in my head.”

The other man squints and tilts his head at Dean like a tiny, confused bird. And no, Dean doesn’t find that adorable at all. Nope.

“What have you been calling me in your head?”

Dean purses his lips. Sometimes he’s really an idiot. He gives Blue-Eyes a shaky laugh.

“I said I wasn’t gonna keeping doing that.”

They stare at each other again, neither one budging until Blue-Eyes releases a breath and blinks, shoulders slumping a bit more. By the end of the night Dean expects this guy to be melted into the floor.

“Cas.”

Dean frowns. “Your name is Mr Cas?”

“No, just Cas.” Blue-Eyes, no, scratch that, Cas then holds out his hand so Dean can shake it like they’re fellow professionals meeting at a party or something. As he grips the other man’s hand in his own he realizes Cas’s hand is warm, dry, and, yep, strong. The dude is seriously ticking all of Dean’s boxes without even trying. It’s a bit unnerving, really.

“Is that short for something?” Dean asks, wondering what type of name that is.

Cas just looks at him over the rim of his glass. “Perhaps.”

Neither of them say anything else for a long moment and Dean shakes his head. “People ever tell you you talk too much?”

“Yes. All the time,” Cas says with a smirk.

Dean laughs. “Well, whatever. It’s officially nice to meet you, Cas. I’m Dean. Humble and professional barkeep at your service.”

“Hello, Dean.”

Cas’s voice is deep but there’s a warmth to it that makes Dean happy. They chit-chat for a bit, just like Dean would do with any newbie to the bar. He pours them both another round and then tries his question again.

“So, you seemed a bit upset earlier. What brought you through my doors, Cas?”

Cas sighs and glances away. He taps his fingers lightly on the polished wood of the bar. He stares at Dean as though assessing him and then looks as though he’s made up his mind.

“My…er, the person I’ve been dating, dumped me tonight. We went to an expensive restaurant and ordered far too pricey food for the serving size and drank outrageously fancy wine. Then they ordered an expensive bottle of cognac, drank it all and then told me I wasn’t worth it.”

Dean winces. “Ouch. How long were you together?”

“Six months.”

“Well, it’s not too long for a relationship, but it’s long enough to hurt.”

Cas nods, looking sullen again.

“What special occasion was it?”

Cas stares at him. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Fancy restaurant, the way you’re dressed, the cognac. Nobody orders that unless there’s been a birth or an anniversary or both.”

“It was my birthday,” Cas says, looking down again.

“Fuck,” Dean blurts out without thinking. “And they dumped you? Seriously bad juju, man.”

Cas nods and takes another drink of his whiskey, looking miserable. Dean tops off both of their glasses and hums.

“What was his name?”

Cas whips his head up, suddenly looking confused and more than a little worried. “I never said it was a he.”

“It was your distinct lack of pronouns, dude. Always the dead giveaway. Trust me, as a guy who plays for both sides, I know. Pronouns are key. Hey, relax, Cas, this is a safe space.” Dean points to the small pride flag he keeps above the bar and watches as Cas visibly relaxes.

The silence that falls between them is comfortable now. Welcoming, even. Cas clears his throat and rests his hand on his chin, peering at Dean.

“So…you’re bi, I assume or, pan, perhaps?”

“Got it in one. Just another bisexual loser ruining the world one lay at a time.”

Dean winks to show he’s only kidding. He’s proud to be bi, but it doesn’t mean he can’t make a joke at his own expense. Of course, if Sam or his friend Charlie were here they’d both tell him what they thought of that.

“His name was Bartholomew.”

Dean snorts. “It fits him. Douche-y name for a douche-canoe.”

Cas barks out a laugh and it completely changes his face into something truly beautiful. Dean suddenly feels the need to always make Cas laugh like that. He can’t imagine anyone not wanting to – his laugh is infectious. And the light it puts in his eyes is irresistible.

Cas looks serious again as he swirls the rest of the whiskey in his glass. “To be honest, Bart was just the last in a long line of failed…connections. I’m doubting my own self-worth at this point. Everyone ends up leaving or they get fed up with me. I’m too introverted…too socially awkward to deal with, I suppose.”

“I don’t know, you seem to be doing okay right now.”

“I’ve been drinking,” Cas says, deadpan. “And also I’m paying you.”

Dean chuckles. “Not really, I decided to stop charging you as soon as I poured my first one.”

“Your hospitality know no bounds. Truly.”

Dean laughs. Cas’s dry delivery and poker-faced expressions really are the limit. He feels that familiar warmth he always gets when he meets someone new. A someone new that excites him. But he pushes the feeling aside because he knows on some level that trying to get into Cas’s pants is so not what the other man needs right now. Dean shivers as he realizes how damn mature that sounds. Next he’ll be looking into 401ks and cemetery plots.

“Well, consider them birthday drinks. Of course, this stuff doesn’t cost a small fortune or anything, but I figured you’d already paid out enough tonight.”

Cas smirks and shakes his head at Dean. “Thank you, Dean. It’s actually very kind of you to…take pity on me.”

He says it jokingly but Dean gets the sense that he means it. He reaches forward and touches Cas’s hand.

“Hey, no pity here. You are ridiculously attractive and if I didn’t have a conscience, I’d definitely be throwing out my best lines here to help you relieve some tension, if you know what I mean. And you are not awkward to me, but even if you were, it wouldn’t be enough to stop me from asking for your number or seeing if you wanted to meet up sometime. I barely know you but you seem like a decent guy, Cas. And I think all of those people that don’t get you can just fuck right off. You need to keep trying, man. Don’t give up just because a few losers couldn’t see what they had.”

Cas blinks at Dean, blue eyes getting huge. “You think I’m ridiculously attractive?”

Dean thinks back. Did he say that? Yeah, he said that. Figures that would be the only thing to register with the dude.

“What sort of line would you use on me? I mean, if you were going to, that is.” Cas shyly glances away and then back, a curious look on his face.

“Oh, uh, probably something like, well you know what they say — the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” Dean waggles his eyebrows and smirks, faking a leer.

“I’m not sure that would work with me,” Cas says, mirth clear in his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. You’d make me work for it, I know. But seriously, you need to regroup, clear out the douche-canoes from your life and find a new guy, man.”

Cas smiles at him in fondness, and nope, Dean is not going to do it. He will not break his rule about dating people just out of relationships. Not even for big huge blue eyes that make him feel sappy like a love song. Cas, however, clearly has other plans.

“This may be forward but, um, Dean would you allow me take you out for dinner? As a date, in case you were wondering how I meant it.”

“Oh, wow, Cas, um, I mean…”

Cas’s face takes an interesting journey in two seconds – from hopeful joy to miserable and wretched. Dean feels his heart break a little bit for him in that moment and mentally kicks his own ass for being a tool.

“Oh, I see. I…I’m sorry, Dean. Thank you for hospitality.” Cas fumbles with his wallet and places far too much money next to his glass. “I won’t keep you anymore. Go home and enjoy whatever is left of your night.”

Dean watches dumbly as Cas sits up straighter and then turns in his seat, his broad shoulders unyielding, suddenly. Dean knows he just can’t let it end like this.

“No, wait, Cas!”

Dean practically flings himself around the bar to reach Cas before he can unlock the door and leave without a backwards glance. He rests his hand on Cas’s shoulder, stopping him.

“It’s only because I have a rule about dating people that just got out of a relationship. It has nothing to do with you, I promise you. You need to focus on you, dude. Figure out what you’re looking for. If this one was just the last in a long line of guys who don’t understand you, try and see what people you’re going for. I mean, I’m no expert, and God knows I’ve had my fair share of jumping before looking moments, but I think you just need some Cas time right now, you know? If we ever start something I do not want to be rebound guy and you deserve something better than a one night stand.”

Cas stares at him, blue eyes half in shadow. Dean holds his breath, hoping he didn’t just lose something. All he can hear is the clock ticking behind him and the pounding of his own heart in his ears.

“That was quite the speech,” Cas finally says. “You sound like you know from experience.”

“Cas, man. You have no idea.”

“I have some, like I said, a long line of rejections. Still…” Cas’s eyes search his face and then nods to himself. “Maybe you’re right. I do tend to do things without thinking in this area of life despite being very practical usually. And you’re also right on anther point, Dean. You do not deserve to be “rebound guy”.”

Dean can’t help his grin as Cas makes the quotes motion with his fingers. They stare at each other for a bit longer before he unlocks the door. Cas steps out as the cold air filters in between them, causing them bother to shiver. Dean pauses, and then holds out his hand. “Let me have your phone.”

“My phone?”

“Yeah, you have one, right? Or have you moved on to something flashier like sky writing?”

Cas snorts and shakes his head. He fumbles in his pockets and then pulls out a slim, black smartphone. He unlocks it and hands it over. Of course, it’d be that kind of phone that can help you bake bread or turn off all the lights in the world with just a click or something. He finally finds what he’s looking for and puts his contact information in.

“There. There’s my number. Text me to let me know you get home, okay? And as for the rest, we’ll take it one day at a time, Cas. Let’s be friends, first.”

Cas smiles shyly as he looks down at his phone and nods. “Friends, first. I like that. Goodnight, Dean.”

“Goodnight, buddy. Be safe.”

Cas slips out and away, leaving a coldness in his wake as he takes his body heat with him. Dean watches him go, the black of the night almost swallowing him up. Cas pauses to pull his coat tighter, the glow of the streetlight lighting up his profile. To Dean he looks pure—angelic, almost, like a painting or a sculpture. With one last look at Dean, he eventually fades away, disappearing back into the world. Soon all Dean can see is his own breath in the air and the twinkling starlight from the surprisingly clear sky above. He locks up again and finishes his routine for the night. After he’s put the money in the safe and headed out back to his car, he feels happy inside. Like something good just occurred — like some new path has been cleared for him to travel. His drive home is quick and easy, there’s hardly any traffic mostly due to the earlier rain. It’s just as he’s pulling into his driveway that he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. It’s from an unknown number and his heart beats faster as he reads the message.

From unknown: I arrived home safely, Dean. Thank you, again. Would you like to get coffee tomorrow, or, perhaps I should say, later today? Oh, this is Cas, by the way. In case you didn’t know. :)

Dean saves the number and then returns to the message to reply, a grin creeping onto his face before he even realizes it.

Dean: Of course, dude. Coffee sounds great. Around 1pm?

Cas: Perfect. Do you know the Blue Java Café on Marion and Elm? It’s across from the park and one of my favorite places.

Dean: Sounds good. Can’t wait to talk to you sober, ya lush… (lol j/k hah)

Cas sends him a sticking-tongue-out emoji as a response and Dean chuckles as he locks up his car. He has a nice, happy feeling in his heart as he thinks of Cas. Like maybe this is something special. Or maybe it’s just that it could be and has the potential to be. He knows he told Cas friends first, but Dean’s willing to see where it…where they, can go.

#suptober23 #destiel #prompt:starlight #dean and cas #meet-cute #my writing #biting nails here #like posting stuff is scary #wth #I am not used this anymore #castiel #dean winchester

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