#what would they say if they had opened the floodgates ya know

[starrynight29]

Opening the floodgates and what not…

#ted lasso #rebecca welton #tedbecca #ted and rebecca #ted x rebecca #soulmates #clowning hours #what would they say if they had opened the floodgates ya know

[mymreaderlibrary]

I need more old man yoai. Its just, it's good soup, ya know. I want them to get a house and adopt a teenage kid. Just family stuff ya know. Its good soup, ya know.

SORRY THE SOUP TOOK SO LONG, but I did my best to try and fulfill this ask. There were some changes to your idea but I hope it still works 😭

Old man yaoi pt 3 here we go

[long distance, weird fucky timeline, use of y/n, mention of the soap-cident except he’s fine because I said so, minor homophobia, some angst, an original character, and my adamance to be slow as fuck with romance].

[length: 2227 words]

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Getting to finally kiss each other didn't open the floodgates per say but it did give them enough respite that their "tenseness" subsided. The rest of the 141 were relieved that the pair had somehow righted their differences, even if they still didn't know what those differences were, and Soap congratulated them on "making up".

It was awkward for a bit and while it was nice knowing the feelings were recuperated neither knew what was too much or too little so they rarely made any advances. When they did finally feel confident enough, usually in complete privacy and far late into the night, it would be a lot of soft touches. Thumbs running over knuckles, shoulders bumping lightly together, maybe even a hug if they were feeling bold (though it was more like just leaning on each other as they never raised their arms higher than the hip). They kissed a good few times again but it was like a rare treat. 

Despite everything neither had actually been with another man before, y/n got close at a gay bar a while ago but a light shined directly into his eyes and he got a migraine that forced him to leave. The unfortunate side effect of previous head injuries. Meanwhile Price had casual relationships with women in the past but not men, however it's not like they lasted for too long anyways as his devotion to his work spared little room for it. So sue them if they didn't know what to do, this was all brand new and definitely badly timed.

They kept up in a pattern; mission, meetings, and then downtime. Complete a good weeks worth of work, discuss their next steps (and start on them), then pull out a drink and chat. Consider it just their luck that the night things finally felt like they were heating up, privacy was near guaranteed, and tomorrow posed no urgent challenge that Soap decided knocking wasn't necessary and stood there bewildered by the doorway till he caught their attention. Johnny was incredibly apologetic and promised not to tell anyone but the two older men decided it would be better to just come clean before something like that happened again. Laswell of course wasn't surprised, but Gaz and Ghost had a momentary pause that they quickly reassured wasn't from judging just surprise. Overall it went over smoothly and it had the added bonus of giving Price and y/n more alone time. 

(Note: however, the second it was clear to Soap he could freely chat about Price and y/n's relationship it became open season for the worst jokes imaginable. When Soap wasn't instantly flayed, the other guys would join in with a particular "dad joke collector" Ghost staking his claim in the torment). 

-

By the time y/n's work was over Price was hesitant to let him go, knowing they would not have this closeness again unless one of them gave up their current lifestyle. It was honestly a bit tempting, Price had spent about his whole life in the military and it wasn't like anyone could really judge a well seasoned man for retiring. But instead y/n gave him his phone number and the two split ways no matter how badly they yearned otherwise.

And that's how they stayed for the next couple of years, Price always calling from a burner and y/n being left to wait for him by the landline. Bi-monthly they would chat, y/n giving life updates and Price venting about how the 141 were going to give him a damn heart attack. Y/n got service dog, a great dane named Lucy who he couldn't help but boast about to the point the others wanted updates on her too. Price could sometimes hear her sniffing at the phone and was dying to see her in person. It relieved him to know y/n had someone (or something) there with him as the other man had admitted to feeling lonely at home. Still a big part of Price wished that someone could've been him. 

Over time Price reconsidered his stance on retirement with a series of back to back events being his solidifying his choice. It started off with a call from y/n, his family had come into town to visit after years of radio silence and at first it seemed to be going well. That was until his parents asked about his relationship. They sewed a lot of seeds of doubt, not privy to their son dating a male but also not believing it was serious enough to be real considering they never saw Price. His parents were happy to grind their heel into any anxieties their son had which ended up in a full blow up during his mother's birthday. Y/n ended up storming out after his mom made a show of mocking his relationship in front of extended family. He was humiliated that his parents could still get a rise out of him even in his old age. Price had gotten a call from y/n afterwards who sounded completely exhausted. Price desperately wanted to be there to comfort his lover but ultimately the only thing he could do was verbally console him. 

Within the same week Price began noticing a small shake to his hands. Nothing serious but still not something you'd want to see, especially as a sniper. He couldn't tell if it was age, an injury, or stress but it left him with an odd feeing in his stomach. Like his body was trying to tell him something. 

And a little while after that it seemed Soap decided to deliver on that heart attack joke. Out cold in a hospital bed with a list of injuries too long to name, the scotsman had everyone in a panic. Ghost in particular didn't take it well and, while he was good at being outwardly calm, anyone who knew the man proper could tell he was terrified. He just had this vague vacant look in his eye, it wasn't hard to determine he was probably disassociating. Gaz on the other hand tried to keep some semblance of positivity even if he was running on empty. Not the kind of peppy “everything is gonna be okay!” positivity but a rather light kind. The type where you try not to let your own doubt eat you upside by never verbally stating reality. He didn't want this to be the end so he wasn't about to act like it, but he was undoubtedly scared shitless.

Price had called y/n after the incident and it became his turn to be consoled. He wasn't a crier but he imagined if he was there would've been at least a few. He had dealt with shit like this before, but the secret was it never got easier you just got better at being quiet about it. He knew y/n understood that.

-

However by some grace of god Soap woke up. The man was shockingly resilient and not about to let himself get felled by just anything. The asshole was even joking within the first few minutes of consciousness much to Price's chagrin but Ghost and Gaz couldn't have been happier. Those two stayed with Soap for a while and Price was certain he heard scot getting bitched out from across the hall. Make no mistake, even while mad at him for being reckless they were glad to be ranting to his face rather than a casket. 

Y/n got another call after that, the bi-monthly quota quickly exceeded, to deliver the good news. The call was admittedly shorter than their usual but it left them both feeling far more hopeful than the last. When Price closed his burner he couldn't help but think about being there with y/n in person, getting to say these things to his face, even getting to hold him. He hadn't been kissed in years now and he yearned for a moment of peace like that especially after all that stress. A silent decision was made, a bit impulsively, but it was a long time coming. 

After Soap was back up and running the man started taking missions again, this time with an extra watchful eye from the team. But to everyone's surprise one person wouldn't be joining them. In an uncommonly personal meeting, Price announced his retirement to the rest of the 141. Soap had opposed in a panic thinking this was due to his accident, and while it might've inspired part of it, Price assured him this was something he had been thinking about for a while. He felt it was time and well... he had someone he knew was waiting for him. 

The meeting, while bittersweet, left off on a note of pride. Not everyone can say they retired by will and especially not a man of Price's caliber. The team were happy for him but also demanded he try to stay in touch even if only slightly. With a hug from everyone (a shoulder pat from Gaz, a crushing squeeze from Soap, a light hold from Ghost, and a rather sentimental one from Laswell) he said his goodbyes and gave y/n another call.

Y/n sounded a little frazzled upon picking up and confusingly Price noted the sound of another voice in the background, distinctly female. As it turns out it was one of y/n's cousins who, after the birthday disaster, decided to get in contact with him. She felt bad for how the rest of their family had treated him and wanted to make sure he was doing alright. Apparently Ying, as she turned out to be named, was absolutely enamored with Lucy and was giving the dane the play session of a lifetime hence the sounds of chaos. Price instantly eased, especially with how relaxed y/n began to sound as he had settled in to his cousins presence.

They chatted like usual but y/n could hear a strong sense of sappiness to Price's voice as he closed the phone. 

It took about 3 days for Price to make his way over to y/n apartment and to say he got a warm welcome would be an understatement. The ex-captain hadn't actually told his lover about the retirement or his planned arrival so the other man was completely surprised, but overjoyed. It had taken years but they were finally here together again. Holding back felt unnecessary, they kissed right in the doorway as they clutched at each others bodies. The sensation made everything so much more real and they likely would've stood there for way longer if Lucy hadn't poked her nose into them. Price was was thrilled to finally see the big mutt in person and she took a quick shine to him.

-

Within a couple weeks later Price had tried to settle in but it wasn't working. The apartment was just too damn small especially with two grown men and a giant dog in it. Lucy often had to be taken out to the local dog park for exercise and Ying came in to visit from time to time which only cramped the space more. It was practically inevitable that they were going to search for a bigger home so they eventually started a search. Originally they looked into more apartments, but just one peek at their current set up (and into Lucy's big brown eyes) they knew they needed something much bigger.

 The search took a while but they eventually settled on simple cabin with a good two acres. It was remote enough that they didn't have neighbors, but also close enough to civilization that they could keep in touch with Ying. Plus there was a lake not too far from it which made for a great fishing spot. Price did most of the packing but they didn't have too many items anyways so one small u-haul was all they needed.

The cabin had a strong musky scent from the wood, the floorboards would creek with each, and the whole place was perfect. Settling into this was much easier, something about it just felt natural. Maybe it was the amount of room, maybe it was the peaceful location, or maybe it was they were together. Whatever the reason, Price felt he had made the right choice. 

-

Come half a year later, they've accumulated a few things to decorate their house, had their fair share of fishing days out by the lake, and maybe made a good couple of messes or two. Ying was an active visitor and even brought her husband along with her from time to time. Seeing her car pull up into the driveway was a common sight but this time she walked with a nervous excitement which was practically suffocating. Y/n let her in and she asked if she could have a talk with him. The two went over to the couch to chat as Price went into the kitchen to make a quick coffee. He could hear a series of spikes in tone, serious, excited, antsy, all forming together until he finally popped into the room to see a smile on his love and his cousins face.

Ying was pregnant with her first child and wanted to know if they could be the godfathers.

#my writing #mw #price cod #captain price #john price #john price x male reader #price x male reader #cod x male reader #x male reader #male reader #old man yaoi #okay I gotta keep working on my finals now #but at least theres gay old men

[iknowyuu]

hey !! could you write something with sieun having an airhead reader like she is a little bit dumb but she is really kind ! thank you if you do so ^^ i think that would be a fluff with a she/her reader thank you again !!

dummy

kdrama!sieun x reader

// read req!

tags: gender neutral reader, teasing, sieun is kinda mean if you squint, airhead/dumb reader, cursing

note: idk how to feel ab this one sjjssj, hope you enjoy anonnie !!

♡

tap tap!

"hey sieun,"

he stopped reading the textbook in front of him to take out the earpods he had on, looking in your direction, signaling for you to continue.

"do you have any paper i could borrow?"

"no." he turned back around, going back to resume the work he was doing.

"ya, sieun!" you cocked your head to the side as you stood in front of him, "don't you ever eat lunch?"

the boy stared up at you, his gaze on the verge of a glare. "no." he went back to his work.

"but, how can you work with an empty stomach?"

he took a deep breath in, then out. he ignored you, hoping you'd go away. you stared at him for several more seconds before walking away. finally, he was left alone to finish his work before the break was over.

not for long though, apparently. minutes passed by before you came back. "sieun!! i got you some food! you must be so hungry, studying so hard all day," you placed a roll of gimbap and water bottle onto his desk. "how do you do that, anyway? my brain starts to hurt if i read for too long." you pouted. sieun knew you would not leave him alone if he ignored you, you were too...dense to realize he did not want to talk to you. he exasperatedly placed his pencil onto his desk, unwrapping the food in front of him. you smiled, seeing as you finally got him to do something other than say "no" or sigh.

whether he liked it or not, sieun unknowingly opened the floodgates for you to treat him more than a classmate. you met with him in the hallways, walking with him to class. you somehow managed to beat him to the classroom everyday, and you'd chat his ear off as he tuned you out. he found out that if he kept nodding you'd think he was listening. the thing is though, the more you did the things you did everyday, the more he came to expect it, and as a result, not mind it.

you began to buy him breakfast from the convienience store every morning: yogurt, a triangle gimbap, and a mini vitamin c drink. at first he denied them, but he quickly became accostomed to only having the gimbap, then trying the yogurt, then eventually having everything with you. you'd always turn a desk around to in front of his, making a make-shift table.

lunch was the same, you'd buy lunch and sit with him, talking about whatever popped into your mind. soon enough he started to listen. one could say he even.. liked it.

only a little though- yeah. a little. nothing could get in the way of his studies, he told himself.

that's to say he was more than a little shocked when one day he walked into the class at his usual time and you weren't there. maybe you woke up late? he tried to reason with his growling stomach. when you finally arrived in class with just a minute to spare, you didn't give him a glance.

days went by where you didn't bother speaking to him, and sieun felt very conflicted. he didn't know what to do in this type of situation, literally having no experience. but after lots of thinking, he decided it'd be best to ask you himself instead of wasting time speculating.

he knew your route home was along the way to his, and finally taking the intiative, he watched you as you walked home, following you from a distance. he couldn't place a finger on why it felt weird.

a minute, then two, then eventually five went by before you noticed anything suspisious. you would glance behind you and notice him- at first you assumed he was just on his way home, but after he passed the turn to his place, you were on alert.

sieun didn't even know what his plan was at this point; he at first wanted to talk to you before he passed his apartment, but it was way too late for that now, so he made the desision to pick up his pace and meet you at the point you were at.

as you heard the rapidly approaching footsteps, you whipped around, tired of the nagging that someone was watching you, ready to confront it head on. "what do you want!?" sieun almost jumped at the suddeness of your outburst, watching as tears welled up in your eyes. "i finally fucking understand, you don't have to pity me. clealy i'm too dumb to hang out with you because it took me this long to figure it out." you immediately regretted the words that left your mouth, feeling the embarrassment creeping up your body. he watched as you began walking away, finally making a move to catch up with you and grab your shoulder. "wait," he watched as you tried to shake him off, but was unable to due to the force he used to spin you around. "it's not like that.

i'm.. sorry i made you feel that way. please don't think i don't enjoy your company." he maintained eye contact with your tear stained eyes, "i appreciate it when you buy meals for me..." it took a bit for him to finish, "i don't think you're dumb." he watched the expression on your face, trying to detect any change in response to his words.

however, it wasn't anything as he expected, the tears that were trapped in your eyes escaped and your face scrunched up with sadness. "oh," sieun stood shocked. he thought you'd feel better. he didn't know what to do.

luckily, he didn't need to, as you stepped forward and embraced him. "..thank you.. i really needed to hear that." you mumbled into his collarbone, hiding your face in his jacket. you missed him a lot.

he didn't say anything as he hesitated to wrap his arms around you. just as quickly as you'd hugged him, you let him go, instead opting to hold his hand. your red eyes and tear stained cheeks were the only evidence that you'd been crying, the smile adorning your face proving otherwise. sieun looked down at your hands as you spoke, "let's go out to eat, okay? you must be hungry from all those missed meals," he looked back at you and nodded. your face turned from his as you pulled him along, and he couldn't help but feel relieved. finally, he had you back.

♡

taglist (send an ask to be added!) : @brxght-world @karyuliee @kkaesslovr @qtaisuu

#sieun yeon x reader #sieun x reader #sieun yeon imagines #weak hero class one #weak hero class 1 fic #weak hero class one x reader #weak hero class 1 x reader #kdrama x reader #kikisficz

[bella-rose29]

Bright Young Soul

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Campbell Bain has a depressive episode, don't read unless you're up for some unhappy reading times basically, probably way too much italicising but oh well, I am not an expert on bipolar in any way and this is purely from what I saw in tota and research online, so please please please pick me up on anything I have done wrong, I also am not Scottish

based entirely on this post and the notes <3

Tag list: @bugbugboy, @biromanticboba, @heretoboogie

"Campbell, c'mon. Stop mucking about."

"Campbell, could ya keep the noise down?"

"Campbell, I'm busy."

"Not now, Campbell."

"Campbell, be quiet! I cannae hear myself think!"

"Quit fidgeting, Campbell!"

Campbell didn't want to stop mucking about, or keep the noise down, or quit fidgeting, and he had so many questions that needed answers and thoughts that needed sharing he was about to burst, and given he was in St. Jude's he couldn't very well start talking to himself, or they'd lock him up somewhere horrible. The nurses had been telling him those things all day, and when Eddie had turned up for his radio show Campbell had barely raised his head in greeting. He'd hoped that the older man would notice that something was off, and see what he could do to fix it, but when Eddie was only brusque with him and seemingly uncaring that Campbell wasn't wittering in his ear, it made Campbell sink further into himself.

The show went the same as it would on any other day, with the exception of Campbell's usual puppy dog energy, and when they had finished and were packing up, he felt even worse than he had before. Eddie hadn't noticed that anything was off, and Campbell was overthinking, wondering if the man actually cared about him or if it was all an act, like so many people had done before out of pity or the feeling that they were doing something good (they weren't, Campbell could usually see right through it and honestly it was kind of offensive).

"Campbell, can ye pass me that record, please," Eddie asked, arm outstretched. Campbell was so deep in his thoughts and spiralling further and further towards the edge he didn't notice, not really, registering the words but not really listening, and his eyes were focusing on nothing and everything at once, seeing the hand Eddie held out, but not seeing it.

"Campbell, for Christ's sake, what's the matter with ye? Stop acting daft and pass it over!"

The words cut deep, Campbell's brain letting them resonate and echo around his head as previous situations similar to this were remembered. "What?" he whispered, blinking the tears back. "I'm not daft!" His voice rose, practically shouting the last word which sounded so much louder than he'd meant in the tiny studio. "Nothin's the matter with me, Eddie, not to you, is there! Have ye even noticed me, Eddie? Have ye noticed me?"

"Of course I've noticed ye, Campbell, you're very difficult to miss!"

That hurt too, twisting the metaphorical knife deeper into Campbell's gut. He was tired, so fucking tired, and worn out, and exhausted, and every other synonym of the damn word, and his usual limitless energy was used up. He scoffed, all but throwing the record at Eddie and shoving his hands in his trouser pockets, hunching his shoulders.

"Ye know," he said, voice thick from holding back tears. "My dad used to say the same thing about me. I thought you were gonnae be different, Eddie, but you're just like him, aren't ye." The words kept coming after that, tumbling out of his mouth before he even had a chance to think them up, and he couldn't even remember what he was saying. More about his dad, about Eddie, about himself. He kept talking, running his hands through his hair in frustration and tapping his fingers on the desk next to him, just needing something to do, to fiddle with, to let out some of this newfound energy that stemmed from the floodgates opening. This energy hurt, though, and he didn't like it.

He could see that his tapping was annoying Eddie, but he couldn't stop, and he couldn't stop talking, ranting about pointless things, and he hated himself for it. He couldn't stop the tears now either, and they were pouring down his cheeks as he shouted. He vaguely made a note of nurses running down the corridor, and there was Stuart, and there was Eddie, standing watching Campbell and doing nothing, just like his father had done.

He could barely get the words out now, sobs wracking his body and making him choke, and he was so far off the edge that he'd fucking fallen off and was plummeting into nothingness, negative thoughts and memories surrounding him and making him fall faster. He couldn't speak any faster, and yet somehow he wasn't going fast enough, and everything was closing in on him and expanding away all at once, and he realised that he wanted them to sedate him, just so that he didn't have to deal with this anymore.

If they could keep him under forever that would be even better.

They came and grabbed him at some point, although Campbell wasn't sure when; it could have taken them two seconds or they could have been moving towards him for two hundred years. He'd lost all concept of anything other than his thoughts and the look on Eddie's face, and he was still shouting and yelling as they stuck the needle into his leg and wiped him out.

~~~

Eddie had been having a shit day, with MacAteer throwing him under the bus (again) for something he didn't even do, and Griffin making him go out and not letting Eddie come back in the building until he'd made five sales. He'd then discovered that his car had a flat tyre when he'd left for the day, and had to take it to the garage, needing a taxi to get to St. Jude's. The taxi driver had then gotten stuck in traffic, and Eddie was going to be late for his radio show. Somehow he still made it there in time to get set up and start without Campbell stepping in, but he was at the end of his rope and Campbell not listening to him had just pushed that big red button in Eddie, making him explode and shout at the boy. Campbell had flinched slightly, then fallen straight into shouting back at him, tapping and fidgeting, and Eddie could only stare as he went on, unable to speak. His protégée wasn't allowing much room for Eddie to talk, mind you, with his incessant chatter about his father (oh god, Campbell thought that Eddie was like his father), and pretty much anything else that came into his head. Rosalie had fetched the nurses, and now they were taking a hold of the boy and pushing him to lie over the desk so that they could sedate him properly. Campbell kept shouting, clearly unravelling with each second that went by, and Eddie felt awful, knowing that he had ignored the way that Campbell wasn't his normal happy self, and had been the one to cause this episode.

The next few days were absolute agony for him, since they weren't letting anybody see Campbell and Eddie had to live with himself and the lack of knowledge of when he could go and see the young man torturing him.

He was going to make sure that Campbell knew how sorry Eddie was, and that he was nothing like the man that called himself Campbell's father.

~~~

It was dark when Campbell woke up, groggy and both physically and mentally drained, and the only light in the room was the lamp on his bedside table. He accidentally stared at the bulb, blinding himself momentarily as he tried to work out who was sat next to him. The mop of dark curly hair leaned forward, and as Campbell's eyes adjusted and blinked away the last of the drowsiness he recognised the figure as Eddie.

"Whadda you want," he slurred, voice thick from being knocked out and his accent stronger than it normally was. He felt bad about the harsh tone, overwhelming guilt crashing over him like a tidal wave, but the last thing he remembered was Eddie sounding like- no. He couldn't go there again, couldn't think about that or he'd end up the way he was before. He knew he must have been sedated, since he never normally slept that much, but there were no memories in his head of why.

"I'm sorry, Campbell. I was having a shit day at work, and I know it's not an excuse but I am sorry. I was a dick to ye, and I shoulda noticed that ye weren't yerself, and I'm sorry," Eddie said, making tears well up in Campbell's eyes. He pushed them away, stopping them from falling as he heard his father's voice in his head telling him that 'real men dinnae cry, Campbell, so quit yer whining'.

"I'm sorry too, Eddie, I'm sorry." He was struggling against the guilt that wracked him, making him want to cry, and when it felt like he would burst if he didn't stop resisting he turned his head away from Eddie and sobbed into his pillow. Campbell felt Eddie move closer, the bed dip under the older man's weight as he laid a hand on Campbell's shoulder, thumb stroking gently in awkward consolation.

They stayed that way for a while, every now and then exchanging the words "I'm sorry" and "I'm sorry too" with each other, until after what felt like an eternity Campbell's sobs turned to sniffles, and he pushed himself up to sit next to Eddie on the bed.

He wiped his face with his shirtsleeves, cringing at the fabric when it came away soaked and grimacing when, as he sniffed to clear his nose, he got a mouthful of snot and phlegm. "Ugh, gross," he muttered, gladly accepting the tissue Eddie passed him and blowing his nose loudly. They sat side by side, not saying anything for a while. Eddie seemed to be debating where to go from here, what to do, or say. Campbell was kicking his feet, bare soles scuffing the floor, and fiddling with a bit of dead skin on one of his fingers.

"Careful not to pull too much, yeah? You'll end up stripping the thing bare and bleeding everywhere," Eddie joked quietly, trying to do something to raise his friend's spirits. Campbell moved his hands, placing them either side of his body so that he wouldn't be too tempted to start picking again. "I really am sorry, Campbell. I shouldnae have snapped at ye like that."

"I'm sorry too, Eddie. Not quite sure what for, mind, cannae remember most of it now. I know I went manic though, so... sorry, for... that."

"S'alright, Campbell. S'alright. C'mere." Eddie pulled him into an awkward hug, arm around Campbell's shoulders as the boy wrapped an arm around Eddie's waist, the other supporting his weight on the bed behind them. It was nice (if a little uncomfortable, but Campbell wasn't going to complain), being hugged like this, and he was sad when he needed to sit upright again to save his back from protesting against the angle anymore.

"Thanks," he mumbled, wiping away the tears that had snuck out at the knowledge that he was being held by somebody he considered a father.

"Anytime, Campbell. Ye ever need a hug, ye tell me, yeah? Likely that I'll need one too."

Campbell nodded, letting a small smile grace his face. Eddie's own smile appeared.

"There he is, he's coming back now." Campbell let out a wet laugh, nodding again and leaping up from the bed.

"Aye. Campbell Bain is back, people, back to be the 'Bain' of yer existence!" Eddie chuckled, glad to see the boy feeling better. He knew in that moment he'd do everything he could for this boy, this bright young soul, to make sure he knew that he wasn't alone in the world.

"I'll always be here for ye, Campbell. I mean it. The other day willnae happen again, yeah? Not like that. I've got ye."

"Thanks, Eddie. Thank you," Campbell said, sitting down again, expression earnest. "Really. I couldnae... I couldnae ask for a better person to look up to." Eddie smiled, clicking his tongue and tilting his head slightly as he ruffled Campbell's hair.

"Ye want a cocoa? It'll help, I'm sure."

"Please."

"Alright, ye wait here, I'll be back in a minute." Eddie left, heading in the direction of the kitchens. Campbell smiled after him, letting cautious hope enter his heart. Eddie was trying his best to make it up to Campbell, which was something his father had never done. Cocoa would help, definitely. And after cocoa, everything would start looking up.

#campbell bain #taking over the asylum #eddie mckenna

[prince-kallisto]

Hey ya!

So I was rereading the "Schemer of the Scalding Sands," and I can across this conversation between Azul and Jamil:

I'm not sure if you had discussed this previously or not, but I was curious to know your thoughts on this.

Since Azul uses a person's weakness to form "It's a Deal," is it possible he was able to see something in Crowley's past? Or do you think this is a bluff to persuade Jamil to keep talking (considering we know he used Floyd's SM to prevent himself from getting hypotized.)

NABXHXJSJS you, my friend, have opened up the floodgates BECAUSE YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I LVOE THIS LINE

But…hm??? I could’ve sworn I mentioned this line in one of my theories but I can’t find it lol…I lose track of what I post and what I don’t Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑) Anyway, these lines are very interesting. I don’t think he got any information from Crowley at all, and it was just a bluff! “I know one thing he would never want others to know” is a pretty powerful statement to say about Crowley of all people…and sense we know he had Floyd UM, Azul was just buying time.

If I remember correctly, Crowley managed to free all the students who got their magic stolen by letting Azul continue with his schemes- and gets a percentage of the Lounge’s profits. Jack refers to it as “blackmail,” but I wouldn’t say Azul had specific information over Crowley- it was more of how a large portion of students lost powerful abilities.

His Unique Magic, “It’s a Deal,” can only steal abilities, such as magic, voices, etc., and his contract is just a form of protection against blot. I don’t think even Azul would dare try to steal an ABILITY from the Headmage himself. Azul’s knowledge of “weaknesses and desires” is more like…he knows their weakness because they’re coming to him for help, asking him to grant their desires. But I don’t think he trades in information specifically. Crowley did make a contract though regarding Mostro Lounge, if that makes sense haha. Besides, even if Crowley did give up information to Azul…I have a feeling it would either be false or unimportant. Crowley likes to act like a fool, but I doubt he would give away any information regarding his identity or powers. Plus, I think the “secret” in this arrangement is the fact that Crowley made a ridiculous arrangement with a student in the first place- that wouldn’t sound very favorable to the press, would it? I’d like to add how in the Glorious Masquerade event, even Azul himself is shocked at the amount of personal information Crowley leaked to Rollo- I think Azul underestimates just how much power and control Crowley has over them.

What I really love about these lines is how, if you notice across Book 4 and Book 5, I think Jamil is LEGITIMATELY trying to uncover something about Crowley- likely for revenge. In those lines you sent me, it definitely sounds like Jamil is trying to get his hands on reputation-destroying or even straight up illegal information to use against Crowley. But in Book 5, Jamil mutters about how he doubts the Dark Mirror is actually part of the Student Selection Process, and that Crowley is likely arranging some back door entries, like in the case of Kalim. NRC students don’t care about these kind of details, no one does! But it’s interesting that Jamil of all people, who got a first hand taste of Crowley’s schemes with Kalim getting chosen as housewarden over him, DOES.

I should probably making a post compiling all the times Jamil does this…because even in the Halloween events, he snarks about how it’s “expected” that the Headmage is neglectful or lazy or does shady things. While everyone else just gets disappointed, Jamil sees it as a given fact. It’s…quite sad honestly haha. But those lines from Book 4 really opened my eyes to this! And if Book 8 is about unraveling Crowley and Grim’s past, I hope Jamil is involved, because he certainly seems dedicated to finding out the truth about Crowley.

I’d like to point out a really old (well not really lmao) theory post of mine where Azul has yet another lore drop about Crowley. Well…it’s not really about Crowley but I think it’s important anyway!

Thanks for your ask, I really love these type of lines because I think there’s a lot of subtleties and “reading between the lines” that reveals a lot of these characters, like in Jamil’s case 💞💞💞🐦‍⬛

#kallistopost #twisted wonderland #twst #twst dire Crowley #twst Jamil viper #twst theory #ask kallisto

[kaeyastopmakingicepuns]

Alone... (Brothers x MC!) (Angst)

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Summary: How did you end up here again?

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Spoilers for Nightbringer lesson 11 and all of the original game.

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Honestly, I like Belphie and Lucifer, but I'm getting real tired of their bullshit.

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"That was close..."

It wasn't until you heard Solomon's voice that you realized you had been squeezing your eyes shut.

You opened them slowly and peered around the room.

There was Belphie, standing behind a pile of rubble that managed not to land on him. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Solomon as he walked up to your side.

Everything had happened so quickly. You hadn't even had a moment to breathe a sigh of relief that you'd managed to put Beelzebub to sleep before anything truly bad happened, before Lucifer was in you face.

"Are you our enemy?"

Your entire body had gone cold as the hurt set in.

How? How is it that after everything, everything you've done for him and his brothers could he even think to ask that question? A part of you was hoping that he would smile and say it was all a joke, but he had just stared at you, expecting an answer.

You don't remember the exact words you used but you had tried to assure him that you weren't. And for a moment, it seemed like it had worked as Mammon and Levi and Asmo had jumped to your defense.

But then Belpegor had opened his mouth.

Now, Solomon and Belphie were arguing and you heard your teacher mention something about ganging up on a human, but really it was so much worse than that.

"...ys end up here." You don't know how your tiny voice, barely a whisper had made it across the room, but Lucifer looked up at you, that cold expression still marring his features. "What?"

You took a deep breath, balling your hands into fists that dug your nails into your palms and kept your gaze trained on the floor.

"I said..." you began, "how do we always end up here?!"

You lifted your head, angry tears wetting your cheeks and sent a glare around the room.

Lucifer sighed in annoyance, his voice still strained in anger. "Human, if you’re not going to make any sense-"

Human. You hated that word. They used it to look down at you, to remind you that you were less than them.

"It happened again." You ground out. Showing your anger felt good, especially since you had held it in before for the sake of this family. This fucking family who only hurt you again and again.

"Again, Belphegor tried to kill me, and again you all just stood there and let it happen." You heard Solomon's voice behind you, saying your name in warning, but you ignored him. You knew somewhere inside of you that you should be worried about breaking the timeline, but you couldn't muster up the energy to care.

This time Solomon had been here to save you, but back then you had nobody. And it still hurt worse than you had ever let yourself acknowledge.

It was Mammon who broke the silence first. "What're ya talkin' about?"

It didn't matter that he didn't know. The floodgates were open and you were going to say everything you had to say. Perhaps it was only because you didn't have the history with these brothers that you were finally able to let it come pouring out.

"I have given you everything, and I have helped you through every tiny problem you've had!" You threw your hands in the air. "And so many of them have been so completely stupid!"

The blank stares from the demons around the room only served to fuel the anger burning inside of you.

"Again and again, I have had to prove that I am worthy to stand beside you, first when I had to bow and scrape just to be your friend, then with Solomon's stupid tests, and then with your fucking games to get onto the student council!"

Your arms fell to your side and you felt all the fight leave you. "It's just never going to be enough is it?" You were surprised at how small your voice sounded. "I'm always going to have to be the one to apologize first, to forgive you even when you have done nothing to make ammends, and yet I just keep loving you, feeling like such a fool-"

You broke off. Did you love them? Was this love truly your own? Or was it just the blood running through your veins. You couldn't even answer such a simple question. You slumped to your knees

"Eight of the most powerful demons in the realm, and you can't even stop the weakest among you." You heard Belphie try to say something in protest, but he was silenced by Mammon's elbow digging harshly into his side.

The the four eldest brothers present stood around the room in solemn silence. Something itched at the back of their mind, a memory that wasn't quite there. They knew they should remember why you were so important to them, but everytime they reached for it, it it just slipped through their fingers. And what was worse was that they could feel your pain, pouring through a connection that was barely even there.

Surpringly, it was Lucifer who broke the silence, something akin to regret coating his voice. "MC, I-"

But Solomon had heard enough. Gently he pulled you to your feat, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to hold you close.

"I hope you all remember this," he said quietly. "I hope that you remember this far, far in the future, and I hope that it hurts."

And with that he teleported you both away.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #was this a vent fic? #yes it was #MC should be allowed to go feral

[percervall]

want you to be the last one I ever love

Player: Darwin Núñez Words: 1011 Warnings: Mentions of insecurities, online trolling, age gap Request: Comforting when you're upset - Maybe you had a terrible day at work, or you didn’t get the promotion you wanted, and he’s there to assure you that you’re doing so good (brings you for an evening walk)!! Or ya know… you getting hate anons who think you’re too old for him and he’s like wtf you’re perfect for me A/N: by now you should know I'm a petty bitch 🤷‍♀️

title from First Aid Kit's The Last One

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He could tell something was wrong the moment he walked into the living room. Something about the atmosphere just felt… off. Darwin couldn’t quite put his finger on it at first until he noticed her wiping her nose on her sleeve and the red blotches on her face she tried to hide behind a smile that never reached her eyes as she quickly retreated into the kitchen. Darwin frowned and followed her, wrapping his arms around her as she stood at the kitchen counter waiting for the kettle to boil. He rested his chin on her head, giving her a gentle kiss on her hair and just held her as silent sobs wrecked through her. He knew that she would tell him what was bothering her when she was ready, and that it was enough to just be there for now. 

It was silly, logically she knew it was silly. In all honesty she wasn’t even sure why she had looked in the first place. She was usually not one for reading these types of things; knew that they were nothing more than the opinions of people with truly nothing better to do. And yet when she had received multiple notifications that people had tagged her under Darwin’s most recent Instagram post for her 29th birthday, her curiosity had gotten the better of her. In hindsight she wished it had stayed with being curious —the saying curiosity killed the cat made a whole lot more sense now. 

I don’t know what he sees in her

She’s so old ew 🤢

Couldn’t she find someone her own age?🙄

Tell me you’re immature without telling me you’re immature 😒

At first she had tried to ignore it, brush it off, but the longer the day went on, the more those comments started to eat at her. What if they were right? she thought as worry and doubt settled heavy in her chest. She put her phone away, but no matter what she did the rest of the afternoon, the voices in her head still whispered their venom as they echoed the comments. It broke her resolve little by little and once the floodgates opened, there was no going back. Hot tears rolled over her cheeks and she tried to suppress the sobs that wrecked through her chest. She wiped the tears away when she heard the key in the door but as soon as she saw him, she knew there was no point in hiding her feelings from him: Darwin knew her like the back of his hand and the look on his face told her he could tell something was wrong. She found comfort in the way his body pressed against hers as she made them tea. Darwin didn’t say a word, just allowed her to feel her emotions and followed her back out to the living room where he joined her on the couch.

“What’s wrong, amor?” he asked gently, a hand on her knee as they sat facing each other. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing, I’m just making mountains out of molehills. Just tired I guess.. You know me, I’m always more emotional when I’m tired..” she mumbled with a shrug.

“Don’t do that, amor; don’t minimise. You’re upset, why? What happened?” 

She took a deep breath, wrapping her hands around her mug in an attempt to find comfort there. There was no reason to lie to him, make something up about work. One look at his phone would tell him exactly why she was upset. Besides, how did that saying go? Pain shared is pain divided? Perhaps there was some truth to that. Perhaps by talking about it, it would lessen the heaviness in her chest.

Closing her eyes, she let the words tumble out. Darwin never interrupted her, didn’t even make noise in agreement or disagreement; he just listened. 

“And while I know, rationally speaking, that it’s not true –that it’s all negative comments by trolls who have nothing positive to contribute to society, it did plant a tiny seed of doubt: what if they’re right?” she concluded, finally meeting his eyes. Darwin placed his now empty mug on the coffee table and moved both of them in such a way she was now sitting in his lap.

“I know there’s not much I can say that will fix this because I can’t; I can’t fix it, but I need you to know this: yes our age gap is six years and if you want to get technical, five and a half –and I couldn’t care less about any of it. I love you, amor, I love you so much it feels my heart could burst sometimes. You’re the person I picture when I think about what life could be when I’m old and grey. I see you when I imagine having children. You are the only person I want to grow old with, have a family with. For me there’s no one else but you,” he murmured, voice soft. Fresh tears filled her eyes as he replaced every doubt with nothing but love and adoration. 

“I love you too, sometimes so much it scares me a little at times. But I know that I see you when I think about our future,” she admitted, resting her head against his chest as he hugged her. Darwin pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“That’s all that matters, amor. I’m going to look into restricting the comments, and I’ll phone the club’s PR department to draft a statement addressing this.”

She wanted to protest that it wasn’t necessary, but one look at his face told her that maybe it was. It wasn’t about the fact the people had left mean comments, it was about them having crossed a boundary. She nodded and sighed deeply as the last stone of worry was lifted off her chest as he hugged her to his’, pressing gentle kisses against her head and whispering sweet nothings into her hair. No matter what would happen, she’d always have Darwin –and he’d have her.

Tags @football-and-fanfics @kostasstsimikass @lfc21

If you want to be added to the tag list click here

#football fanfic #football oneshot #football drabble #darwin núñez fanfic #darwin núñez oneshot #darwin núñez drabble #liverpool fc fanfic #liverpool fc oneshot #lfc fanfic #lfc oneshot #lfc drabble #boyfriend material fics

[ronniescribbles]

Rest Now, Roo (Hope Day)

Sniper x Little!Reader

Rainbow Week 2022 (created by @whimsycreator)

585 Words 

“It’s okay to feel sad sometimes, as long as you keep hope.” – Cuddles with Sniper are the perfect way to end an otherwise horrible day.

You can read it on AO3 here! 

A/N: Day 5 is here, woop woop! I have a tendency to write hurt/comfort with Sniper.. probably because he's a big ol sweetheart and I want him to hold me😅 

Currently, you were held in between Sniper's legs, with your legs wrapped around him to cling onto him tighter. You barely felt him faintly rubbing circles into your back; the last thing he wanted to do was upset you further, and admittedly, he was terrified that any sudden moves would only wind you up even more. 

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Tears streamed down your reddened face, pressed as flush against Sniper's chest as you could manage. This week had really tested you, so the moment you were able to be alone with him, the floodgates crashed open. Luckily, Sniper seemed to have expected this, and opened both his arms and his van to your much needed emotional release. 

"There, there..." Sniper muttered to you. 

The sound of his voice was enough to soothe your tears in that moment, so you took a stuffy, shallow breath in. Upon exhaling, you babbled back to him, trying to reassure him without actually having to say the words – the thought of speaking was far too unappealing to even consider it, honestly. 

"That's it, sweetheart. Take it easy for me, yeah?" His voice raised to a whisper.

With another deep breath, you were feeling a bit better. Sure, you still felt like a wreck (and probably looked like one, at that), but at least you had someone looking after you. Sniper was such a friendly man; he really could make anyone feel welcome and safe in his presence. That's why you kept coming back to him during these rough patches; he knew exactly what to do to help you feel better. 

With his gentle persistence, your cries eventually turned into sniffles, and sniffles into soft babbles. You noticed that Sniper had been running his fingers through your hair, something he usually didn't do on his own accord. Though, if you were being honest, you found it sweet, how shy he could be – especially when handling tiny you. Despite his rough looks, he was a delicate man, always treating you with the utmost fragility. 

You almost felt bad for putting all of this on him. Sniper's empathy ran deep for those he considered family, and you didn't want your episodes to be another burden he carried. 

"Dada, m sorry.." You squeaked, turning your head to be heard clearly. 

"Why are you apologizing, roo?" 

You hesitated for a second, trying to put a coherent reason together. "I jus.. I don't wanna bother Dada.. and and.. he just got a lot too and.." You trailed off in the middle of your thought, losing the rest of what you wanted to say. 

Sniper's hand moved up to softly pat your back. "You know I don't mind taking care of ya', sweetheart. You're my little roo – what kind of daddy would I be if I didn't take care of my roo?" 

Somehow, you knew that wasn't a question that needed to be answered, so instead, you closed your eyes and rested on him once again. Your eyelids felt awfully heavy... 

You heard Sniper's muffled voice, and you thought you mumbled something back to him. In reality, it was just as incoherent as your regular babbles, but Sniper always thought you were cute when you were sleepy, anyway. He continued to rub your back and whisper sweet little affirmations in your ear until you were fast asleep in his arms. 

There he'd stay, even when became too tired to hold you upright. He simply lowered himself back onto the bed, with you on top, and kept you close until morning.

#sniper x reader #tf2 fanfiction #agere fanfic #rainbow week #rainbow week 2022 #agere fandom #sfw age regression #age regression #sfw agere #fanfic #team fortress 2

[punprincess321]

Forgive me... (listen to "I'm still here" from treasure planet while you read)

Cole sat in a bar, alone with nothing but alcohol and his thoughts to keep him company, he pulled an old photograph out of his pocket and unfolded it to reveal the day of his high school graduation, all of his overwatch friends were there as he held his diploma proudly, Gabe was on the right next to him with a proud smile and a hand on young Cole’s shoulder, Jack was on Cole's left with his arms crossed and a proud smile on his face as well.

Cole would have smiled at the photo if he hadn’t just learned that those proud smiles on the faces of the two men he looked up to were lies...

Cole had run into Reaper not too long ago, he made a remark about the bounty talon had on him and how it was a bit lower than the other agents', "A proper amount for someone as worthless as you, ingrate. Looks like 20 years didn't change anything."

The cowboy felt his heart shatter when he heard that, he could usually take Reapers insults, but that one... It hit Cole hard, he had hoped the man he saw as a father figure and mentor would've still cared about him even a little... But those hopes were dashed when he heard that. Reaper suddenly found himself in a chokehold, he could feel Cassidy was trying to snap his neck... Usually the cowboy would hold back a little but his strength was demonic and he couldn't break free, he remembered his wraith ability at the right moment and escaped. Leaving Cole alone to sob his eyes out after hearing how his parental figure thought he had always been worthless.

Cole's eyes welled up as he continued to look at the picture, he thought Jack at least still loved him but that thought was gone as well after their last encounter. Cole had gotten injured in a fight and Soldier 76 was there, Cole looked at the man for help but he felt a coldness behind the visor... He then said that his opportunity to be in overwatch had been a waste... That was the last straw, Cole quickly pulled himself up and used deadeye, Jack said something to him but Cole had tuned him out and walked off to find Angela for help.

Cole crumpled the photo and threw it into the nearest trash can before walking out, he got on his bike and rode off, trying his hardest to not break down sobbing.

The team had noticed the change in Cassidy, he was colder, less bubbly and cocky, and every morning he was hungover, D.va approached the man and offered him a Nano Cola. "C'mon Mr. Cassidy, we're your friends, you can tell us what's on your mind." She said calmly.

Cole took the soda and took a long sip. "Hana... Have you ever had yer heart ripped out by people ya looked up to?..." He asked, Hana was caught off guard by this but so was everyone else, who hurt Cassidy so much that he was this depressed? Everyone sat down with Cassidy and listened as he told them everything, he was holding back tears but when Fareeha hugged him the floodgates opened.

The entire team was pissed, Ana and Angela refused to help Jack with his Biotic field, Reinhardt gave him a cold glare, Fareeha wouldn't even respond to his jabs anymore. They all made him know why he was now despised. "You hurt your son." Was their answer, Jack knew what they were referring to, at first he denied it, saying he didn't regret what he said, but that opinion changed after his next encounter with Reyes.

Reaper was standing on the roof of a building, looking at a piece of paper. Jack approached him from behind ready to shoot when Reaper spoke. "We hurt him... He trusted us... And we hurt him..." He said quietly, Jack looked confused, Reaper turned to him and took off his mask to reveal his face, it was a look of shame, guilt, and heartbreak, he offered the paper to Jack who snatched it and looked at it, he felt his own heart break when he saw what it was. It was the photo Cole had crumpled up and thrown away. "Sombra shoved it into my hands telling me he threw it away... She said I was clearly beyond saving if I was willing to abandon the man I had cared for..." Gabe said quietly, Jack took off his visor and looked at his former friend. "What have we done?... He trusted us and we broke his heart..." He replied, finally breaking and crying. "Ana showed me surveillance footage... He was at our graves screaming and crying... he shot them until his gun was empty... he still kept pulling the trigger..."

There was no coming back from this... Jack and Gabe would never be able to make up for what they had done... faking their death was bad but destroying their son was worse... They had given him hope, a purpose in life, a family... and they took that from him all because of their own self hatred and anger...

Cole was sitting in his room on base when he got a message on his phone, it was from an unknown number, asking him to come outside. He walked out and saw them, Jack and Gabe standing there, no weapons, no masks. "What do you want? I thought I was worthless to ya both..." He spat, looking away from them.

"Mijo... We're so so sorry..." Gabe started. "We have been angry with ourselves for so long and we ended up letting that hurt you... You're our son and we hurt you..." Jack added, Cole tensed up and still didn't look at them. "Was it all a lie?... Was I just a burden this whole damn time?... You said those things with no hesitation... You must’ve meant it..." He asked.

"No! It wasn't true at all! Cole, we're so proud of you, you have become a better man than either of us... Ever since the explosion we've been trying to find out how everything went wrong... We became angry and bitter... I personally am jealous of how great you are and how much you've grown..." Jack replied.

Cole finally looked at them, tears flowing down his cheeks. "I thought you guys were dead... When I heard you guys were alive I was so happy, pissed off but happy... And then you both insult me... callin' me ingrate, a waste... I let you guys arrest me, I coulda fought back and escaped durin' that sting but I didn't... Because I thought that if I left Deadlock, I could become a better person... I left behind friends that cared about me and had my back t' join you guys... I left behind Ashe... I took all yer advice, I trained hard, I finished school, I followed yer orders... All t' do the right thing, all because I thought I found somethin' better... And look what that got me..." He said. "I don't wanna be hurt again... Just leave me alone..."

Cole was about to walk inside when Gabe wraithed in front of him and hugged him tightly, the cowboy tried to pull away but he started crying in his dad's arms. "Mijo I am so sorry... I should have never said you were stupid, you're the smartest guy I know, you always have a plan and you're such a good leader." Gabe said softly, Jack walked over and hugged Cole as well. "You're not a waste either, you're one of the best agents Overwatch could ask for, I couldn't be more proud of you than I am right now." He added.

Cole just continued to cry and crumbled into his fathers' arms as they apologized over and over, telling him how proud they were and how grateful they were to have him as their son. The cowboy ended up crying himself to sleep and Gabe picked him up, Jack allowed him inside and they took Cole to his room. "This is familiar, isn't it?" Gabe commented, Jack nodded and chuckled.

They tucked Cole into bed and after exiting the room, they saw the entire team looking at them, the old soldiers looked away awkwardly, Ana approached them and slapped them. "Don't ever do that to Cole again you got that?" She threatened, the two nodded in understanding. "Good, now Gabriel are you gonna come to your senses and come home?" She asked, Gabe smiled. "If you'll let me, I got a lot of apologies to make." He joked.

The next morning, Cole woke up and found himself tucked into bed just like how Gabe did it when he cried himself to sleep, he sat up and his bedroom door opened, Gabe walked in carrying a tray of Cole's favourite breakfast. "Hey, how are you feeling?" He asked, placing down the tray, Cole stared at his dad for a moment before hugging him tightly. "Please... Don't leave me again... And don't say those things again..." He pleaded quietly, Gabe hugged him back. "I promise I'll stay, and I swear to God I will never ever say those things again." He replied softly.

Cole smiled a little as tears welled up in his eyes again. "I missed you dad..."

Gabe teared up a little as well. "I missed you too mijo..."

#overwatch #cole cassidy #gabriel reyes #jack morrison #soldier 76 #reaper #overwatch 2 #deal with the guilt you assholes #sad fic #overwatch headcanon #hurt/comfort

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

Halloween Prompts 2022

Here are 4 prompts of various flavors

Blue Team Halloween Costumes ft. Veta

Fireteam Majestic carves Jackolanterns

New Mombasa Civilian POV Floodgate

Frankenstein Miller

"Did you guys lose a bet?" Veta asks, not hiding the way her eyes roam appreciatively over all the exposed Spartan in front of her.

"Not exactly." Fred admits, fiddling with the shield and cape.

"We're winning a bet." Kelly chimes in, adjusting her sandals. The straps crossing over her calves barely stay tied as they strain under the pressure.

Linda nods, her helmet bobbing and her sharp eyes peering out of shadow. Her arms are full of plastic spears. "They shouldn't be so loud. Or talk where they can be overheard."

The Master Chief approaches, a small grin barely visible under the plastic Spartan helmet casting his face in shadow. He's a mountain of a man and his current attire only makes him appear like a figure of legend. Scars, new and old crisscross his body. "We can have the weapons, as long as they're not used. Captain's permission." His eyes seem to linger on Linda and she raises her chin to meet his gaze.

"You went to the Captain dressed like that?" Veta gestures to all of him. Over 7 feet of scarred muscled Spartan in a discount costume cape and leather undies would be threatening. But perhaps if anyone could deal with it unfazed, it'd be Captain Lasky.

"I thought you were going to ask the Commander?"

"I'm trying to stay on her good side."

"By staying out of her way." Fred smirks. Veta briefly remembers something about how he downplayed the story of Blue Team going AWOL and what they were later doing on Reach.

Veta watches Blue Team talk and tries not to get distracted by all the skin on display. It doesn't help that she's unfortunately at tit level, the Spartans all have biceps bigger than her head, and the skimpy outfits leave very little to the imagination. Nor does it help that the last time she and Fred had a non-life threatening moment together, he was also about this dressed and she had hugged him.

She clears her throat and four sets of eyes zero in on her. Spartan IIs are unnerving in a different way from her kids. "So, what bet?"

"There's a costume contest some of the IVs were talking about."

"We're going to win." The Master Chief smiles, and she can see a bit more under the cheap helmet now. His smile is broader this time, mischievous.

-

"Ugh, why are we doing this?" Madsen whines, throwing down the comically tiny dull-bladed utensil to wipe vegetation off his hands.

"It's tradition, ya wimp. And we're doing that whole 'Cultural Exchange' business with the Swords, so quit yer whinin' before they get here." Grant chides from over where she's helping Hoya bring in more assorted gourds and fruits, both Terran and alien.

"Yeah, okay by why are we doing this, and not the plant nerds or Crimson?" Madsen shoots back.

Roland butts in to let them know the Swords are on their way and Thorne looks frantic as he guts a pumpkin. "Crimson's been assigned to helping the kitchens. When you win the obstacle course, you get to choose your task. The Commander said something about 'rewarding teamwork'."

Madsen rolls his eyes and picks up the tiny orange scoop. "Do I even want to know what this is? Doesn't look like a pumpkin." He drags the scoop out of the plant pod in his hands and slimy green trail follows.

"It's closer to an Earth cactus than gourd. Native to the deserts of Sanghelios, it stores water in the membrane you're struggling with and-"

"Okay! Jeez, I asked what it was, not a whole lesson."

Madsen tips the pod over and spills seeds and slime down the front of himself and Hoya laughs at him as the door slides open. Commander Palmer walks in, is immediately unimpressed, and turns to introduce their guests.

Three of the younger Swords are partaking along with Spartan Kovan from Fireteam Shadow.

Her presence makes all of Majestic blink.

"I like Halloween," She says in her thick accent, "and I am good with a knife."

Madsen makes an aborted grumble and gestures to the wicked looking knife in Kovan's hand as she guts and cleans a pumpkin in record time and the Swords huddle around her table to watch. He glares at Roland for an explanation.

"Oh that? I think it's because Palmer likes her more."

"You're a little shit, you know that, right?" He goes back to sawing fruitlessly at the alien cactus.

-

The sun had been shining when the alien cruiser had cast its shadow over your home. There were hardly any clouds in the sky as plasma and beasts with claws and fangs and wicked looking knives on their guns rained down on your city. You were on the train headed home towards the outskirts when an awful roar sounded louder than the alarms to take shelter, when the earth shook and you looks to the sky to see the elevator crumble and split.

The sun was still shining as the dust settled and you coughed and crawled your way out of the wreckage. It shone still as you marched away from where ships battled overhead and buildings toppled like a child's playthings.

Gunfire and shouting meant the UNSC was near. You had little hope in them but beggars couldn't be choosers and you take shelter to wait out the battle. The sun is lower in the sky but it still shines.

It shines through more fighting, more shrieking aircraft, and more screams. It shines as you limp and hide towards Voi. You knew someone there, friends or family or coworkers. Someone would let you in. The sun dips lower and although there's hours of light left, your blood runs cold. The hair on your neck stands.

Something new is coming. It splits the sky like a bomb and a plume of smoke and debris the color of sick follows it. The sun shines as thunder cracks and the smoking thing shakes the earth as it hits where you were headed. A cloud rises from the impact and something in the animal part of your brain tells you to turn around.

A cloud passes overhead, blotting out the sun for a moment and the sudden shade chills you to the bone. Time slows like molasses and the wind picks up. Alarms whine in the distance and you blink at the haze settling over the town. A cacophony of noise, howls and screeches, organic and inhuman all at once swells like a tidal wave alongside the fog.

The sun isn't shining anymore.

-

The autosurgeon stutters and fritzes, but restarts successfully under careful watch. Power fluctuations are less frequent and the reactors are at acceptable levels.

Acceptable.

Many things had become acceptable given the circumstances.

Machinery whines and whirs and the arm of the autosurgeon finishes its neat row of stitches. Another arm comes to prod the limb and test its range of motion. MediGel works wonders as well, closing wounds and healing burns in record time.

He still has access to one of the milder sedatives too. In case.

Things were acceptable. It would work this time.

The autosurgeon lowers the paddles, stainless steel shining in the bright fluorescent light as the machine goes offline and becomes a still skeleton in the corner.

-

Something is wrong.

He wakes from under the heavy fog of drugs, not unfamiliar, but he feels heavier, slower to respond. Speech seems impossible with how his tongue feels stuck to the roof of his mouth and his throat constricts and rattles with a dry cough.

He's cold and hot and cold again, his body and the room temperature seeming to fluctuate as he comes back to himself and takes stock. It's all there, but he feels off. Frustration bubbles as everything comes painfully slowy, both movement and memory.

There were alarms. Something was happening on the ship.

It must be over if he's in Medical.

He usually wakes up in recovery though, not on the table and not still strapped down. There's some complicated tubing hooked up to his arm that doesn't seem to be saline.

Fingers twitch and closing his fist is harder than it should be, fingers stiff and unresponsive. Breathing deep is a challenge too, pain shoots up his spine as he moves wrong with a deep breath. It subsides with shallow breathing and muscles tense from keeping still.

It'll pass. It'll pass.

Acceptable. Nerve pain was never fun but what had he done to earn it this time?

Where was the corpsman to wheel him out of here?

Why was it so quiet?

He shivers on the table. The thin sheet covering him slips slightly and he's greeted with precise stitching on a gnarly looking scar running the length of his torso and disappearing into his armpit. That doesn't look good. Moving his head is hard.

It's too much to think about. It looks clean, feels numb, and the room isn't too cold anymore. Sleep comes easily when it's all you can do.

-

Statenizol gets him right back to unconsciousness. He seemed confused, but vitals were holding steady. Biometrics had changed, but that was to be expected. Shifted, but acceptable.

-

The next time he wakes it's to a steady beeping.

He gets a noise out this time, croaking a question into the darkened room, red illuminating the space around him in time with a distant alarm.

"Nothing to worry about, I have it handled. Go back to sleep, you need your rest." A voice from the ceiling says, voice off. Distant. Faded.

"Wait!" He cries out, holding onto this lifeline. "What happened?"

Silence.

He feels tired again, but it's foreign. Artificial.

He struggles to sit up and clumsily disconnects the drip, sending the pole and bag to the floor even as he stops himself from bleeding.

"What are you doing!?" The voice is back, more alive this time, near manic. "You're supposed to rest and get better! Let me fix this!"

"What's going on? Where is everyone? Why were you drugging me?" He gets louder with every question. The blanket slips more and the room turns ice cold.

Neat stitches from the autosurgeon crisscross his body, an extensive roadmap of injuries. Burns, mostly healed but still pink and covered in MediGel cover large swathes of mixmatched skin. Familiar scars greet him but are crowded out by new details.

The voice is gentle now, trying to get his attention again, but there's a birthmark he isn't familiar with below his knee. His left arm feels too long and his hands don't match.

"-what I had to. It didn't always work, but it's okay now. I'm fixing it."

"What?" It comes out to loud or quiet, he can't tell, but the voice stops.

"I did what I had to." He repeats, quiet, but then continues growing louder until the speaker on the wall explodes into static. "You were dying. The ship was dying. Everyone was dying!"

Voices overlap as static rises like a tide and he can't make out the voice's words until it shuts off. Another speaker hums to life, closer to his level, the one on the holo by the door.

"They died or they left and I didn't know what to do."

#my writing #snippets #Blue Team #Veta Lopis #Fireteam Majestic #Spartan Kovan #Roland the AI #Spartan Miller #Halo Fanfic

[thedragonweasley]

Oh, um, hi, hello.

Wow, so um, big time life things happened...and that was funnnnnn. *please note extreme sarcasm* but as it turns out actually addressing your rapidly declining mental health is the most beneficial route to take. So, ya know, I’ve certainly learned something here. 

Anywayyyyy, if you are still following then hi, I freaking missed you all. If this is somehow finding you in a new capacity then also hi. Welcome. 

I never stopped caring about my Potterverse. I’ve continued to explore and create and curate. But my capacity to share, post and narrate had diminished for quite some time. I had lost a really integral spark that had been fueling more than I realized. But, because I have spent more time in therapy than I’d like to admit, I knew I had to turn everything off and just get through it....don’t ask me what “it” was because I knew there wasn't a distinguishing factor as to what “start” and “finish” was. I just knew that I would recognize when it was time to share again. And I knew it would have to do with my lost spark.

So here I am saying hi, hello. I’ve missed this blissfully ambiguous platform to just geek the fuck out and utilize the universe that my brain escapes the best to. But ensuring that when I do, I utilize it in the healthiest way possible. 

So, for my fam that has remained, I would like to open this up for any writing prompts you may have! Like any. I have continued writing my Sparks In The Rubble story, but my head-cannons have taken a back seat and I want to bring them to the forefront again. I started this whole shenanigan because I was inspired by another Authors fanfic *cough cough* @senlinyu . (Sorry, I had to actually tag you because you have opened up such a beautiful floodgate of creativity and self discovery) *cough cough* So sorry, something in my throat.

Where was I? Oh yes, I’m back. If you have any Charlie Weasley notions, Hermione, Weasley, original character or truly any potterverse notions that you want brought to life, then send them my way. I am ready to put words to thoughts again! Sending all the love!

#Harry Potter #charlie weasley #Hermione Granger #Ron Weasley #Draco Malfoy #wizarding world #head canon #Headcanon #head cannons #fanfiction #writing prompt #harry potter writing prompt #Fred and George #dragons #magical creatures #newt scamander #Luna Lovegood #Neville Longbottom #hogwarts #hogwarts mystery #potterverse

[meechatuck]

Procrastination Hectirin Fic

What I do when I procrastinate things. I write stupid little blurbs about my favorite ships. Yes I love Hectirin okay. Hector 100% deserves to be a trophy husband for hunky Quirin alright.

It’s about 1.5k words

Warnings: swearing & talk of PTSD, angst

Modern AU where the Brotherhood were military buddies, Adira is not mentioned in this fic. Gave Quirin’s wife the name Elena cause I felt like it. Came from a comic I saw of a gay couple and one of them telling the other to keep the suit on for later. This turned a lot more angsty than I thought it would. Also, I didn’t proof read this a lot so if there are mistakes I apologize. Enjoy.

Quirin watched Hector out of the corner of his eye as he dressed for his meeting. The man’s brow furrowing more and more as he tightened his tie. Quirin tried to control his sigh as he put on his jacket, but it came out shaper than he intended.

In his periphery, he saw Hector shake his head and flop down onto the bed. He’d been staying most nights now that they finally established their romantic relationship around four weeks ago. It was still very new to them, even though they had known each other for years. Things had gone well for a time, until Hector’s PTSD began acting up. It was causing him to distance himself immensely.

Quirin gently encouraged him to go to his therapy and it worked for a week or so, then Hector began refusing. He became a hermit for several days, not leaving his apartment even once. Quirin remained considerate, but would check on him and bring him food as Hector would allow. He tried his best to show Hector just how much he cared about him, that he was willing to help him through this. He had progressed to staying over again, but lately it seemed like Hector wanted nothing to do with him.

“How long ya gonna be?”

Quirin looked up from adjusting the collar of his suit jacket, surprised that he had spoken.

“I plan to only be there for two hours. So I should be back around 9:30.”

Hector grunted to acknowledge that he’d heard him. Quirin looked over himself in the mirror again, ensuring his appearance was acceptable, when his ears pricked at Hector mumbling under his breath.

The straw that broke the camel's back.

“Look Hector,” Quirin spun around to look directly at him now. “I understand you don’t like me leaving you for work related matters, but I have to go to this.”

Hector sat up on the bed and narrowed his eyes at the larger man. “Never said I didn’t like it.”

“You didn’t have too.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” He was standing now, his upper lip curling back.

Quirin felt the floodgates opening and in the back of his mind, he knew things wouldn’t be the same after this.

“It means if getting into a romantic relationship with me was a mistake to you that you only need to say so. No need to act distant so that I break up with you!”

He registered the confused hurt from the green eyes he thought he knew so well. Hector turned his head away and folded his arms in front of his chest, creating a barrier.

“That ain’t what I’m doin’ Quirin.”

“Then what is it? What are you doing?” He hardly recognized his own voice. Even in their early friendship in the military Quirin had never sounded this way. Especially not to Hector. He’d always been a kind voice of reason. Now, he just wanted answers. Answers that would ease the heartache he was feeling yet again. “Why won’t you talk to me? Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

Hector kept his eyes averted and remained silent. A part of Quirin knew he was figuring out what to say, but he didn’t want him to think. He wanted him to answer with what he was immediately feeling, not think of how to skew his answer.

“God Hector I just want to know if this even means anything to you! I feel like I keep doing all these things for you, showing you that I care and that you don’t want any of it!”

Hector sighed and turned his back to him, “Just go to your fuckin’ meeting Quirin.”

“No,” he retorted. “I am not leaving until I get an answer. If I leave now, I won’t even be able to think straight during my meeting. I want the truth!”

Eyeing him over his shoulder, Hector’s voice was dangerous. “Ya wanna know the truth?”

“Yes!”

He snorted, “No ya don’t.”

Quirin stepped over to him and tugged on his shoulder, forcing them to be face to face.

“Yes I do Hector!”

“The truth is that I love you dammit!”

Quirin stared at him, “What?”

“I fuckin’ love you, okay?”

He dropped the hand that was holding Hector’s shoulder, it hovered in the air, unsure if he should touch him again. “When? How long?”

A sad, pathetic laugh left him as Hector shook his head. “Ya don’t wanna know the answer to that question.”

Quirin softly lifted his chin so their gazes met, “Yes, I do.”

His eyes went glassy as he unclenched his jaw, “Since I met ya. E-even when ya got married to Elena.” Hector’s shoulders shuddered as he took a sharp inhale. “That nearly killed me, ‘cause I could tell. Ya loved her so much, Quirin. Why'd ya think I took that assignment after? I was a coward. I couldn’t stand to see ya with her. So I ran off.”

Quirin’s hand dropped to his side, processing this information. But Hector wasn’t done.

“Then I got back and she’d died. A part of me wanted to take advantage of it, but I couldn’t do it. I promise I never tried to. I-I tried to just be there for ya. Be a good friend. And fuck, I really tried. But it made me realize why I fell for ya in the first place and how I still loved ya. We started bein’ around each other more and I kept wonderin’ if ya liked me back. Then we finally kissed that night and we made it official and-” His voice was cut off by a strangled sob.

“What?” Quirin’s heart was pounding in his chest. Excitement, happiness, and fear all swirling together with each thud of his heart.

“Then I was a fuckin’ coward again,” Hector broke down, his head hanging sadly. “I finally have ya and I’m so scared of losin’ ya. Especially with all my stupid fuckin’ mental shit. I’m tryin’ to control it, not let it take over my life.” Quirin’s brow furrowed, “What do you mean?”

His bright green eyes were brimmed with tears as they stared into Quirin’s dark brown eyes.

“Why the fuck would you want me like this? I can’t even let ya have a decent night's sleep, let alone keep my shit together in a crowded place.”

“Hector-”

“And why the fuck would ya want to have to explain to everyone what’s wrong with me? I don’t wanna put ya through that. That ain’t right of me to-”

Quirin surged forward, pressing his lips into Hector’s, silencing him from finishing the awful thoughts that plagued his mind. He brought one hand up to cup his face and the other to hold his body against his own. Hector stayed frozen as Quirin poured out everything he could into that kiss, hoping he could feel it on some level.

Pulling away, Quirin went to say something when Hector pressed back in for another kiss. It was less chaste than the one he’d given him, full of hunger and desire. Yet he somehow managed to separate himself from Quirin.

“Fuck. S-sorry. I shoulda-”

“It’s fine Hector. I just wanted to make you stop saying those things.” Hector’s green eyes looked at him hopefully, “What’re you sayin’?”

Quirin chuckled lightly, “What I’m saying is that I love you too Hector. And nothing can change how I feel about you, especially your PTSD and trauma. I love you Hector.”

The tears that were forming, now ran down his face. Quirin wiped them away and pressed his forehead to his. They remained that way for a moment, when Quirin’s phone buzzed on the bookshelf near the mirror.

“Ah, my meeting.” Quirin retrieved his phone and silenced the alarm. “I can call them and cancel if you-”

“Nah,” Hector interjected, holding up a hand. “Ya need to go. I don’t wanna keep you from your work.”

“Are you sure? I don’t like leaving you alone and I know you don’t like it either. Isn’t that how this whole thing started?” Quirin gauged his reaction to the question.

“What? Me mumblin’ before?”

“Yes. You don’t want me to go, right?” “I mean, ya that’s true, but that’s not what I was mumblin’ about.”

“Then what was the problem?”

Pink colored Hector’s cheeks as he hesitated to answer. “I just uh, fuck I don’t know if I can say it.”

“I won’t laugh Hector. I want to know.” Quirin cupped his face, giving him a genuine look.

Hector sighed and smiled.  “All I’m gonna say to ya is that…well…” He pressed into Quirin’s space and grabbed at his maroon tie, a little roughly. Tugging him in even closer so Hector could whisper in his ear. “Keep the suit on when ya get back.” He released the tie a little, letting Quirin pull back some and lock eyes with Hector. “Please.”

Quirin’s face burned, realizing partly what had been going on earlier. “Well I can’t say no to such a polite request, now can I?”

Hector snorted and looked away, his cheeks deepening in color. “Ya don’t have to. S’up to you what ya wanna do.”

“Well, I’ll keep it on.” Quirin gave him a quick peck on the lips and held his chin after. “And that’s a promise.”

Hector dreamily nodded as Quirin left him and headed to the door. After one more quick goodbye, he left out the door and to his car. And he couldn’t think straight the entire meeting.

#tts Hector #tts Quirin #Hectirin #modern AU #fluffy prompt turned angsty #quirin would look good in a suit #as would hector #i secretly/not so secretly love this ship #and yes i am procrastinating my Dark Kingdom Rising fic #of course I'm so close to finishing and I can't find a shit worth's of motivation to finish it #but alas #i can write stuff like this #i need to go to bed

[looooooooomis]

F I N A L  G I R L |  E L E V EN

You were his final girl.  And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

masterlist here | final girl playlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader   word count:  6.5k warnings: S M U T (18+!!!!), knife play, blood play, bit of angst?

a/n: MASSIVE thank you to the goddess @polyghostfacehours​​ who helped me through this chapter bc ya girl was torn. also HOW GOOD WAS THE NEW SCREAM?!

p a r t   e l e v e n  |  b e a u t i f u l, d a n g e r o u s

Two weeks.

Two whole weeks and you were still being plagued by those fucking nightmares.

They were horrifying and vulgar, each one grimmer than the last. Sometimes you would wake yourself up from it before anything could happen but some nights, most nights, you were forced to succumb to the reality playing out behind your eyes. The one in which a crazed man chased you around the house wielding a knife. It all felt so real.

Too real.

It was always the same. There seemed to be a few minutes where he hadn’t quite found you yet but then, just when you thought you were safe, there he was; thick fingers threaded through your hair and yanked you up and against him as that cold, icy blade glided along your neck. It was as though he was there. You could feel the itchy fabric of his jacket against your skin, feel his calloused fingers gripping you, holding you against him with a bruising force that made you whimper and plead for your life. And then, like clockwork, you’d feel it. Feel his arousal poking into your ass from behind as his hot breath slithered and danced across your cheek.

Some nights, that’s where the nightmare ended. But there had been a few nights now, where things went further than they should have. Where the second you felt the intruders cock against your ass, feel that knife against your neck, your fear waned only long enough for your own painful urges to take over.

The nights where fear was your driving force, the man wielding the knife never had a face. He was unknown, a stranger. And perhaps, that’s why the fear was so palpable but those nights, the ones where your own feral need superseded your panic, that terrifying faceless man began to take shape into a man you knew like the back of your hand.

Billy Loomis.

Your Billy.

The first night you dreamt of Billy, it was as though a switch flipped inside of your brain. What had started with fear, resulted in him bending you over the kitchen counter, still holding that damned knife to your throat, as he railed into you from behind. The second night, you were on your knees in front of him as he fucked your mouth with enough ferocity to make you dizzy.

Every night, it was something different but whether or not he fucked you in those nightmares or not, you’d wake up the same way. Slicked in sweat with your breasts heavy and cunt sopping wet.

You were deranged. Sick in the head. How could a dream where your life was at risk leave you feeling like that?

You needed therapy or, at the very least, you needed to tell somebody about what the hell was going on in that sick little mind of yours. But who? And how? You couldn’t very well go to Sid about this and while Tatum would absolutely know what to do or say to put you at ease, you couldn’t bring yourself to mention it in fear of having her see through your inevitable lie should she ask just who the ominous man wielding the knife was.

Then, of course, there was Billy. You wanted nothing more than to tell Billy about the level of detail going on in these nightmares, hell, he’d probably like it, but a part of you knew that the second you opened those floodgates, you had no real control over what exactly would come through the other side.

That darkness inside of Billy, the one he buried down so well, was vast and bewildering. Could you handle the reaction you possibly got out of Billy? Or worse, what if you liked it?

Unfortunately for both you and Billy, your little secret was tearing you apart. You knew you were acting fucking weird around him. You were coming up with excuses not to see him, desperate for some space in an attempt to figure out whatever the hell was going on in your mind. No part of you knew how to handle your body’s response to danger and just why your brain associated the man you loved with the man holding a knife to your throat in your dreams was a lot to unwrap.

Too much to unwrap.

Which is exactly how you ended up here. Painfully aware of your own silence as Billy sat on the other end of the couch chewing on his lip and casting you enough sidelong glances to make the pit in your stomach churn in guilt.

You had the house to yourself all weekend long and even though you’d told Billy that you weren’t up for any visitors, feigning pain in your broken (albeit healing) wrist, he’d shown up an hour ago with popcorn, some beer and those puppy dog eyes that made you weak. Every part of your brain screamed at you to turn him away until you got a better grip on what was going on in your head but the second your name tumbled out of those lips and you heard the quiet desperation laced through his every word, every rational thought in your brain fell to wayside.

He’d kissed you the second the door was closed but it was short-lived as you smacked on what you hoped was a breezy grin and gently pushed him back to usher him into the living room. You couldn’t trust yourself around him, not yet. Not with thoughts of him dragging a knife along your neck as he fucked you senselessly against your kitchen counter.

Fuck, you were deranged.

You know he noticed your apprehension. That was the thing about Billy, he knew you. In and out. Every inch of your body, every dark crevasse of your mind. There wasn’t a single part of you that Billy wasn’t hyper-aware of so when you pulled away and gave him that false smile, you know he saw right through it.

Even as the two of you sat there, blindly watching the movie playing on the TV before you, you knew he was focused solely on you. You felt his eyes, that weighty stare, scraping over your profile as you tried to appear interested in whatever the fuck was on TV. You knew you weren’t being fair, not on him and definitely not on yourself – it wasn’t as though you could control your dreams, after all. But, all the same, there you were. Ignoring your problems instead of dealing with them as per the usual.

“Are we just going to pretend that this isn’t fucking weird?” Billy’s voice sliced into the quietude of your living room and immediately sent your pulse skyrocketing.

“Hmm?” You hummed, your tone flippant despite knowing exactly what he was talking about. You just barely managed to look at him before offering up a punitive smile and a careless shrug. “What do you mean?”

God, you hated yourself.

You felt the couch shift under his weight as he closed the distance between you. He’d done a fairly decent job thus far in maintaining a physical barrier between you but enough was enough. “What’s going on with you?” He asked and as his fingers ghosted across your cheekbone, immediately you were flooded with images of your dream and the feeling of that knife along your throat.

You cleared your throat as your smile waivered just enough to feel mangled on your lips. “Nothing,” you lied, trying your damnedest to ignore the shot of electricity pulsing from where he was touching your cheek that echoed its way down between your thighs. “I’m just watching the movie, is all.”

You finally focused in on said movie only to realize it was a commercial. Fuck.

“You’ve been acting weird for a couple weeks now,” Billy’s tone was quiet, unsure. “If this is about me and Sid, I know that—”

“It’s not,” you interjected with a shake of your head. You had enough questionable things on your mind, you couldn’t focus on that right now. “It’s not about that.”

Desperate for answers and just happy he was getting something out of you, he shuffled even closer and dipped his head lower in an attempt to catch your troubled eyes. “Then did I do something?” He asked, barely above a whisper. One of his arms was splayed along the back of the couch while the other still cupped your jaw with enough tenderness to make you want to cry.

“Nothing,” your voice was firm as you finally dragged your eyes up to meet his concerned stare. “You didn’t do anything, Billy. Honestly.”

“Then what is it?” He shook his head. “Because for the last two weeks, I’ve barely been able to pin you down. Even tonight, you have the whole house to yourself, and I had to find out through fucking Tatum. You didn’t even tell me.”

Guilt niggled its way into your chest as you chewed on your lip. He looked so fucking distressed that it nearly killed you. How could you have possibly associated the maniac in your dreams, subconsciously or not, with the man sitting before you? And why, even when you had, did that thrill, that danger, excite you so damn much?

You blew out one long exasperated sigh before throwing yourself back. With one arm still wrapped in the cast, you used your good arm to shield your face away from him as you shook your head in defeat. “I think, maybe, I fucked my head up in that accident.”

“What?” Concern ebbed its way into Billy’s words, making you regret your bout of dramatics instantly. “Have you seen a doctor?”

“No,” you groaned. “I don’t mean literally. I don’t know what I mean, to be honest.” Slowly, you removed your arm only to find those coffee-coloured eyes still watching your every move. Confusion puckered his brow, not that you could blame him, but it was the concern radiating off of him that made the next few words feel a little easier to say out loud. “Remember that dream I had at Tatum’s?”

He blinked. “The ones with the guy? And the knife?”

You swallowed and nodded your head. “Yeah, well, they’re still going on. Nearly every night. They’re fucking with me.”

Billy was quiet for a few seconds, absorbing your words with both interest and confusion still marring his handsome face. “Are they scaring you? Is that why you’ve been distant?”

God, if you only knew…

“No,” you managed to say, voice thick. Were you ready for the floodgates to open? Were you ready to share this undeniably fucked up little kink that your brain had started hyper-fixating on since that first nightmare? Your stomach was in your throat as you pushed yourself up so that you were no longer a rumpled mess on the couch and instead facing him dead-on. You heaved a mighty sigh. “I’m…oddly very into it.”

Billy was careful with his next few words. Had he heard you right? Was he understanding you? He thought back to that night at Tatum’s, the night that he’d fucked himself raw to the idea of you waking up fully aroused from a nightmare involving being scared for your life – but he’d thought it was just a one-off, especially since you hadn’t mentioned it since.

But to hear this?

That you’d been having these dreams for the last two weeks and enjoying them? His cock twitched as he mulled over the right words to say. That was most definitely not what he’d been expecting to hear out of your mouth and while it both excited him and turned him on painfully fast, that still didn’t answer his initial concern.

“We all have our kinks, our fantasies,” he twirled some of your hair between his fingers, “but why shut me out?”

He watched your brow wrinkle as those pretty eyes fell from his down to your lap. Panic gripped him for a few seconds as the silence spawned. There was no way in hell you could have known about what he and Stu did to that asshole that night of your accident. They’d been thorough, the last he’d heard from Tatum straight out of Dewey’s mouth was that they thought it was a one-off robbery – but then why had you been acting like this? Why ice him out?

Slowly, your eyes met his and his panic only grew.

“I don’t know how to say this without offending you or making me sound like a fucking looney tune,” you breathed out a shaky breath before squaring your shoulders. “At first, the guy in my dreams was just…a guy? He didn’t really have a face or anything but I knew he wanted me dead. And, well, for as fucked up as it sounds, something in that made me feel…”

“It excited you,” Billy pushed out, scraping his thumb along the apple of your cheek. “I remember.”

He felt you lean into his touch and a part of him relaxed.

“Right, exactly. Fucked up, but true.” You began to pick at the cast on your arm. “But then the dreams changed. I’m still running scared, I know my life is still at risk, like he can kill me any second, but…” You frowned. “But sometimes when I’m having that dream, I turn around and I see that it’s you.” You released a long, shaky breath and Billy felt his stomach fall to the floor beneath his feet. “I look back and the guy holding the knife is you, Billy.”

An atom bomb could have landed in your living room and Billy wasn’t sure he’d hear it over the sound of his heart rumbling so fucking loudly in his ear drums. The room around him spun, the panic that had been gripping his chest had now spread throughout his entire body leaving him cold and unable to move a muscle.

You were scared of him. You’d dreamt that he was going to kill you and now you were scared of him.

Something that felt a whole hell of a lot like a heart attack seized his entire body as he fought for words that didn’t seem to come. He blinked; once, twice, five times before slowly letting his head fall to stare holes into your floor.

You were scared.

Of him.

He was sure his blood had drained out of his body by now as his hand slowly fell from your cheek, down to your shoulder before landing with a lifeless thwack against your thigh. “I, uh,” words failed him. With his mouth dry and his lungs painfully imploding inside of his chest, Billy blinked again in stunned silence.

“I don’t think you get it.” He could hear your voice through the fog of his brain, but it was still muffled. But then your warm hand gently raked through his hair, demanding his full attention as you guided his head up so that his eyes met yours again. “I’m not afraid or anything,” you explained. “Seeing you like that, feeling you hold that knife against my throat…those dreams don’t end with you killing me, even though I know you could, but we fuck.” A mortified smile graced your lips. “How fucked up is that? Here you are thinking a blood kink is taboo and here I am finger fucking myself senselessly to the thought of you fucking me with a knife to my throat.”

Every ounce of blood that he felt drain from him was flooding straight to his cock as realization dawned on him.

“What?” He sputtered, eyes wide.

You groaned and leaned forward to bury your face into the crook of his neck. He smelled like him, hints of aftershave and detergent with an almost minty musk peppered in. You’d fucking missed that smell, missed him. Missed seeing him without having to keep up appearances, missed his smile, his hair, those eyes.

For two weeks you’d kept him at a distance in fear of opening up a side of your relationship you weren’t sure you were quite ready to see. But now that you’d said it, now that it was out in the open, your curiosity got the better of you. How far could you delve into that darkness inside of Billy Loomis?

And were you prepared to face whatever followed you out?

“I’m sorry for pushing you away,” you grumbled into his neck. “I didn’t know what to make of it. I was in my own head thinking about…everything, really. And I just didn’t know how to deal with it. I still don’t.”

“Hey,” he soothed quietly, “you don’t have to apologize. But why didn’t you tell me?”

You pulled back, still with those pouty lips that drove Billy crazy. “I was nervous,” you admitted softly. “Scared, maybe?”

Billy’s eyes were gentle as they swept over your face. “Of me?”

“No,” you answered quickly, but then you waivered. “Maybe? But not because I think you’ll hurt me; I know you won’t. But hearing your girlfriend say that she’s fucking herself to the thought of you with a knife screams unstable.”

The smirk that stretched across Billy’s lips was slow and precarious as he reached across to scrape his thumbnail along the outline of your lips. “Girlfriend?”

You blinked. “What?”

“You just called yourself my girlfriend,” he shuffled closer to you as his hand slithered down the side of your neck. “I’ve called you my girlfriend this entire time, but you’ve never once labelled yourself as my girlfriend.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s your takeaway from all of this?”

He nodded and kissed you gently and much too briefly for your own liking. “My takeaway,” he hummed and gave you another short kiss, “is that it took you having a nightmare about me fucking you with a knife pressed to your throat to finally acknowledge that you’re my girlfriend. You are a little freak, aren’t you?”

You grinned into his lips as he backed you down against the arm of the sofa. His lips were warm, his kisses slow and methodical. You could taste how much he’d missed you with every lingering kiss. But with those images of him in your dreams, the arousal of danger and the promise of feeling it in real life made you still against his mouth for just a moment before you gently pushed him back with your good hand.

“Billy,” you were breathless, “do you think we could try something?”

He nodded without a second thought. “Anything.”

You gave him a small smile and as you stood up to your full height and offered him your hand, Billy took it and mindlessly followed you into the kitchen. He was rock hard and he knew you knew as much judging by the extra swing in your step, making sure his eyes were on your ass with every step you took.

When you stopped and swung back around to face him, there was a look of pure resolve on your face. But it was the moment where you apprehensively dropped your eyes to the knife block by the stove that Billy felt all of the air in his lungs leave his body. Slowly, your eyes danced along the blade of the knife in wonderment before those eyes met his again.  

“I think that maybe, if you’re comfortable with it, I want to feel that level of danger that I feel in those dreams.” Your voice sounded like a fucking melody as he embraced your every word, dumbfounded. His cock was straining painfully hard against the restraints of his jeans as you stood there, leaning against the kitchen counter with nothing but trouble in those damned eyes.

But he was apprehensive. He didn’t want to – no – he couldn’t hurt you. He’d kill himself before he hurt you. Did you know what you were asking him to do? Did he know?

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he muttered quietly.

“I don’t want you to hurt me, either.” You agreed. “But these dreams, Billy. They’re driving me crazy. And I’m so fucking wet when I wake up from them, I feel like if I don’t explore it, they’re just going to keep coming back. Seeing this uninhabited version of you, the knife acting as a constant reminder of danger…there’s something about it. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, obviously. I just thought that, maybe---”

He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when that darkness inside of him took hold, but the next thing he knew, he’d turned you around so that you were facing the kitchen counter and the knife that you’d been toting around only seconds prior was now gripped within in his own hand. He held it against your throat, just like you’d talked about – gently, and with the dull end pressed to the base of your throat – but he held it there all the same, holding you pinned firmly against his chest.

You gasped and the whimper that he got in return warmed his entire body as he thrusted into your backside. “How does it feel, baby?” He asked, biting down on your earlobe. He felt your entire body melt against his chest and forced his eyes closed in an attempt to stop himself from coming right then and there. With his free hand, he reached down and squeezed one of your tits through your shirt. “Knowing I could slice your throat right now?”

Your ass shimmied against his cock but rather than grant him with a verbal answer, you reached up to grab the hand massaging your tit only to steer it down to the hem of your jeans. “See for yourself.”

A growl tore out of his throat as he unbuttoned your jeans and as he shoved his greedy fist past your thong and along the small smattering of hair along your mound, Billy bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. You were fucking soaked.

Slipping his fingers through your sopping folds, he found your swollen clit and moaned into your ear as he gave it a firm pinch. “Jesus fucking Christ,” his own breathing was ragged, shaky in your ear as he fought to control himself. He needed to control himself but, fuck, you were making it damned near impossible. His head lulled forward and you hissed as he bit down on your shoulder. “God, you’re so fucking perfect.”

Your chest was heaving as he began to coax his thumb along your throbbing clit and as he slipped two fingers inside of your tight cunt, you couldn’t bury your moan. It slipped out through your lips and echoed out around the kitchen as your eyes fell shut. The pressure of the blade, though a little dull, was tight against the base of your throat but as he continued his assault on your pussy, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“What did I do to you in your dreams, baby?” He asked, letting the blade slowly glide across your throat. “Did I fuck you right here in this kitchen? Did I bend you over this counter and slice that pretty little neck of yours as I fucked your cunt?”

Before you could get your answer out, you felt him rip the blade away from your neck only long enough to yank your jeans down the length of your thighs so that your pussy was bare and exposed. He palmed himself through his own jeans to the sight of you standing there, chest heaving, eyes hooded and dreamy, lips parted in want.

Cornering you against the counter, he bucked his hips into yours and grabbed the knife again. His eyes were so dark as they watched the blade dance up your body and when he sliced the hem of your shirt open and tore it off of you, you found that you couldn’t breathe. Something between fear and excitement crept up your flesh and burned its way up your entire body as he tossed the material of your now ruined shirt across the kitchen.

His eyes never once left yours.

He smirked, a real sadistic smirk that you supposed should have made your skin crawl but did everything but. Your nipples pebbled painfully as the cold blade scraped against your naked chest and across both nipples. You needed to feel his hot mouth on you, feel that tongue glide across your nipples and suck. But he was giving you no mercy as he stood there with his eyes glimmering.

“Answer me.” He demanded. “Did I fuck you? Did you like it?”

The knife was back against your throat only this time it wasn’t the dull edge and your pulse spiked as you felt it slither along your skin. That darkness inside of him, the one he tried to keep buried deep, deep down was profound as he held that knife against you. It was exuding off of him in waves but there was a tenderness, too. A small glimmer of light in those charcoal eyes that kept you there, barely breathing in anticipation.

“Yes,” your voice came out a breathy whine.

He chuckled darkly. “Sit on the counter. Open your legs for me.”

You swallowed hard but did as you were told.

His dark eyes sauntered down to your pussy and as he slipped his fingers through your folds again, the weight of the knife along your throat increased. At first, you barely paid it any mind, but as he quickened his pace on your clit, your breath hitched as he pressed it a little harder against your neck.

“Billy,” you moaned, both in warning and in ecstasy.

But he was paying the knife no mind. His full attention was on your cunt.

You swallowed hard and attempted to move back just enough to ease the pressure on your neck, but the when a growl slipped out of his mouth again, the hand holding the knife moved with you and that blade, that sharp blade that you’d dreamt about all week long, sliced into your throat.

Hissing in pain, you jerked back and immediately reached for your neck. You knew it wasn’t big and it certainly wasn’t deep, but the moisture on your palm was enough to tell you that however big or small it was, it had drawn blood.

The knife fell to the counter beside your thigh as Billy practically threw himself away from you. His eyes were wide, the smirk long gone, and only fear gripped his handsome face as his wide, panicked eyes soaked you in.

“Fuck,” he whispered, more so to himself. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I was just—Fuck!”

“It’s okay,” you brought your hand down to peer at the amount of blood. It wasn’t anything to serious, but fuck did it hurt. “I moved my neck and you moved your hand at the same time; it wasn’t your fault.”

“It is,” he snapped. He ran a shaky hand through his hair and began to pace. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I would never hurt you. I got carried away,” he dragged his hand down his face. “I don’t want you scared of me. I didn’t—”

“Billy,” your brow pinched as you reached for his hands. “It wasn’t your fault. Stop.”

Bit his dark eyes were on your bloodied neck. “I hurt you.”

“Billy,” you tried again, dipping your head to catch his frenzied stare. “Look at me.” It took a few seconds for those brown eyes to find yours, but when they did, the guilt eating away at him was written all over his face. “I asked you to hold a knife to my throat. I think it’s safe to say I can hold some accountability here.” You tried for a joke, but he wasn’t taking the bait. Pulling him closer so that he was now standing between your naked thighs you raked your fingers through his hair and offered up a small smile. “I liked it, Billy. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He cocked his head to the side and shot you a look. “I could have killed you.”

“I think that’s a little dramatic,” you snorted. “I’ve had cat scratches deeper than this.”

“It’s not funny.” He groused quietly. “Look at your neck.”

“Billy,” you sighed. “Are you hearing me? I liked it.” You reached up and raked your thumb along your pebbled nipple. “I think that’s obvious, don’t you?”

Silence penetrated the room. It was obvious Billy didn’t know what to do with himself after seeing the small gash along your throat and you were far too busy monitoring his reaction to fill the space with idle comfort. You could see he was terrified at what he’d done, but as his eyes flickered down to the cut and back to your eyes, you were all too aware that the bulge in his pants never once died down.

He liked it every bit as much as you did.

Slowly, he reached his hand out to get a better look at your throat. Guilt was splayed out across every inch of his face, but there was a look of intrigue behind those eyes that drew you in. It was the same look you saw that night whilst he fucked you covered in blood. That same darkness that clung to him when he thought nobody else was looking. But what scared you was the fact that you liked it.

Not only did you like it - you felt it, too.

There was a danger in that darkness, a little ember inside of your belly that made the mark on your throat feel more empowering than horrifying.

His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as those eyes skirted up your face. “What are you thinking?” His tone was pleading, desperate.

“I’m just absorbing everything,” you admitted quietly.

Billy swallowed again and shifted his weight between your legs. “What does that mean?”

You held his troubled stare as you slowly reached forward to tug his white t-shirt off of his body. The veins in his neck were swollen against his reddened throat and his breathing was slow, deliberate, as he watched you pick up the knife that he’d discarded beside you moments prior.

“You don’t scare me,” you whispered, raking the blade down his chest. “But there’s a darkness inside of you, Billy. I see it.”

Slowly and as gently as you could, you applied just enough pressure to draw blood. He hissed, much like you did, but he didn’t move an inch. Instead, those dark eyes were locked in on your gaze as though completely mesmerized by you.

“Are you scared of it?” He asked, his voice thick. “Of me?”

Dragging the knife away from him, a few drops of his blood began to drip down the blade before pooling into your blood that marred the stainless steel.

“No,” You admitted, swiping your finger up the blade to catch the blood on the tip of your finger. Watching his eyes, you brought your finger up to his lips and watched as he opened his mouth to lap and suck the blood off of your finger, never once breaking your gaze. “Because I think there’s a little bit of darkness in me, too.”

Something snapped inside of Billy in that moment; a release, of sorts. Not being able to stop himself, he lunged forward to capture your mouth as he yanked you to the edge of the counter. He needed you closer than humanly possible in that instance, as those words bled into his subconscious. How you managed to be so fucking perfect for him was beyond him, but in that moment, he couldn’t begin to decipher it.

All that mattered was that you saw something inside of him very few had and despite that, you loved him. Wholly. Fully. With every part of you.

And fuck if he didn’t love you with every part of his soul.

His name slipped out of that perfect mouth as he began to kiss down your body, desperate to taste every inch of you. He nuzzled your tits, swirled his tongue along your nipples as he sucked and lapped at the pert buds. The urge to touch every inch of you, taste every inch of you, overwhelmed him to the point that he felt as though he was on fire.

He stilled as he nudged your legs open with his broad and once again, those eyes found yours. With a single kiss to your mound, Billy’s expert tongue slipped between the folds of your cunt and gave it one long, slow lick with the flat of his tongue.

“Fuck,” you rasped out, squeezing your eyes shut as you tossed your head back.

“Look at me,” he demanded.

Lulling your head forward, you gave him a mischievous little smirk and just barely had time to brace yourself before his tongue delved into your folds. His tongue was despairing, his mouth hungry, and the grip he had on your hips was bruising as he held you firmly against that counter. But even being this close wasn’t enough right now. He wanted to drown himself inside of you. Your thighs twitched and circled around his head as he tasted you and the moans that were slicing into the quietude of your empty house made him reach down to palm himself again through his jeans.  

Looking up at you through hooded eyes, he watched you play with those perfect tits as you bucked into his mouth. God, he loved you so fucking much.

“Billy, baby,” you moaned, squeezing those tits perfect tits of yours. “Just like that, don’t stop.”

Pushing your hand away, he took over the assault on your tits as you threaded your fingers through his hair and squeezed. You were breathless and whiny and the blood that smeared along your throat could have been enough to make him come if he didn’t bury himself inside of you soon.

With his mouth lapping and sucking on your clit, Billy slipped two fingers inside of your pussy, not being gentle in the slightest as he pumped inside of you. The yelp of excitement that tore out of that pretty mouth made his cock twitch. You were close, he could feel it on his tongue.

You bucked into his mouth again and felt that heat begin to prickle in your toes and up your legs. You were close, so fucking close. 

Sensing his eyes on you, you managed to lock eyes as lapped and sucked at your hot cunt. It was as though both of your guards, for the first time in a long time, were completely down in that one fleeing look and as you reached for the knife, still slicked with a small about of blood, and brought it to your mouth, you knew you had Billy’s full attention.

With the flat of your tongue, you scraped your tongue up the blade and smirked as you watched his eyes darken as he gave your clit one long, agonizing suck.

You cried out his name, whiny and desperate, but he didn’t relent. Not after that image.  Not even when your thighs clamped together, burying him inside of your sweet cunt, did he relent. He was nose deep inside of your pussy, tasting you all over his mouth, feeling your slick coat his chin and your body tremble beneath his lips.

You were a writhing mess and with each lap and suckle he gave your cunt, you felt that familiar heat began to climb its way back, clawing at you from the inside out. Somehow, you managed to focus in on him through the fog of ecstasy. His eyes were so dark in those few seconds, so hungry, that you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped you. It was loud and guttural and, as he refused to let go of your clit even with the stars dancing behind your eyes, you dropped the knife and squeezed at the ends of his hair as you threw your head back, unable to quiet the string of obscenities filtering out of your mouth.

Finally, after your body nearly gave out, Billy released you only long enough to kiss his way back up your body. He stopped at your breasts, swirling that incredible tongue along your nipples for a few seconds before continuing up until he was inches away from your lips.

“You see what you do to me, baby?” He purred, moving your hand so that it cupped the bulge in his pants. “You drive me fucking crazy.”

You grinned and caught his bottom lip between your lip. “Show me how crazy.”

Something between a growl and a laugh echoed out between you as he yanked you off of the counter only to flip you over. The move was swift and a little rough as he bent you over the counter, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care the second you heard the zip of his jeans and the second you felt those greedy hands ghosting across your bare ass, that little flame inside of you spawned into a full-fledged fire.

He lined himself up, the head of his cock slipped up your folds and along your clit only briefly before piercing into you. The animalistic grunt that came from him made you whimper. Fuck, he felt so good.

“Did I fuck you like this?” He whispered as he slowly pulled out only to slam back into you with enough force to send you reeling forward. The whimper he got out of you was enough to incite a cocky smirk. “You like this, don’t you, baby?”

You were so wet. The sound of his balls slapping against your perfect ass combined with the squelching of that pussy was all encompassing and it drove him fucking wild. Dropping both of his hands to your hips, his grip was unbreakable as he held you against the counter.

You’d have bruises in the morning, he knew you would, but he’d be there to kiss and lick and soothe every last one of them.

Whimpers stowed out of that pretty mouth as you reached back to squeeze his ass, steering him further into you as he fucked you senseless against the counter. With his lip caught between his teeth, Billy’s own grunts got the better of him as pummeled into you from behind.

But he needed you closer.

He was so fucking close to coming and he could tell, by the way your pussy pulsed against his cock, that you were too. With a snarl, he reached one hand up to grab a fistful of your hair, yanking you up so that you were flush against his chest as he came undone inside of you. He was white hot as he emptied his seed inside your cunt. He bit down on your shoulder as he palmed your tits with ravenous hands, revelling in the way you cried out for him.

His breathing was heavy and laboured and the more sensitive his cock got with every thrust, his pace slowed. For a moment, neither of you moved. Instead, he allowed his forehead to fall back against your shoulder, kissing the now reddened area where he’d just bitten down, before he slowly pulled out of you.

The emptiness that enveloped you the second he’d pulled out was overwhelming as you all but collapsed against the counter. But before you could so much as speak, Billy was gently guiding your hips forward so that your ass was back against the ledge and the two of you were nose to nose.

He kissed you then, soft and sweet and full of longing as his thumb delicately soothed over the cut along your throat. “I love you,” he whispered, nudging your nose up so that he could see those eyes. “You’re my girl.”

Grinning, you reached up to smooth his hair down. “Love you, too.”

I am a literal piece of shit and lost the tag list for this story that people asked to be on so I am so sorry lmao hope this finds you well x

#Billy Loomis #billy loomis fanfiction #billy loomis scream #billy loomis fanfic #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis x you #billy loomis x fem!reader #final girl #scream #scream x you #scream x reader #Scream 1996 #scream x oc

[ppersonna]

swipe right - jjk | m

“ i wanna ruin our friendship. we should be lovers instead. i don't know how to say this, cause you're really my dearest friend “ - jenny, studio killers

♡ summary-  after a horrible breakup, you sign back up for tinder and ironically match with your best friend, jungkook. a date for fun is harmless, right?

♡ genre- best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, jk is a minecraft streamer, brother namjoon, brother-in-law jimin, namjoon is kind of a himbo stay at home dad ngl, ex-boyfriend seokjin (mentioned but doesnt show up)

♡ word count- 9k

♡ warnings- mentions of a bad breakup (smh seokjin wtf??), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (u know the business folx), oral sex (m receiving), teasing, SO MUCH BODY WORSHIP, jk is a simp, slight dirty talk, lots of just talking during sex yall it happens, creampie, cum play, praise praise body worship praise, did i mention body worship, tit-fucking, cum eating, i think thats all.

♡ a/n - helloooo and thank you for your wait for this fic! i’m so happy its done and i loved writing it! it’s a little bit different feel for my usual style of writing (smut-wise) so please tell me your thoughts! i didn’t use dom/sub themes OR a daddy kink LMAOOOO praise me please. i hope you enjoy!! pls feel free to comment, chat, message, carrier pigeon, email, mail, WHATEVER U WANT, me. i love u babies. thank you to @kimtaehyunq​ for the sexy banner. and for @xjoonchildx @ladyartemesia​ @untaemedqueen​ for the writing support and idea generation. i would be nothing without my council. and thank you to my beta editors @hobi-gif and @ughseoks​ and @hongism​ for the perusal and help in writing this!

Jungkook is the person you call when your world falls apart.

He answers, voice raspy from the late hour, and the second he asks you what’s wrong, the downpour of torrential tears you’ve been holding back finally escapes and you’re sobbing through the phone that you just lost the love of your life—that he left and with little effort on his part, and a lot on yours.

Jungkook listens to you—his heart aching deep in his chest at hearing the utter heartbreak that’s clear in your voice. You’ve never been hurt like this, and he’s desperate to hold you, to make it go away. He wants to drive over to Seokjin’s house and throw a left hook into his stupid, handsome face for making you feel you weren’t worth it.

Because if there’s anything in the world that Jungkook knows, it’s that you’re worth it. You’re worth everything. Add up all the money and all the gold in the entire world, and it still doesn’t meet a fraction of what you’re worth to him.

“Where are you?” He asks as he cradles the phone against one arm and pulls on his jeans.  

You sniffle. “Jungkook, it’s 3 am.”

“So? I was up playing Minecraft,” He lies. “Where are you?”

You can’t help but laugh the tiniest bit, a sliver of warmth wrapping itself around your raw and exposed heart. Like a balm to a flesh wound. It doesn’t heal it, not yet.

“I’m at our park.”

Jungkook smiles as he grips the phone back in his hand. The park. The place you and Jungkook spent your childhood playing make-believe games, and formative teenage years loitering around smoking clove cigarettes to look cool.

“Give me five minutes, okay?”

You nod, even though he can’t see you. 

“Okay.”

Jungkook arrives with two minutes to spare. His beat up Nissan that he insists is “vintage” and “priceless” idles next to you.

He can see you through the darkened glass of your car—your mascara is running down your face, tears streaked through your flawlessly applied makeup.

You still look so beautiful.

And it angers Jungkook that all that time you spent looking good for Seokjin meant nothing to him.

He motions for you to come over, pats the passenger seat next to him and smiles as he watches you open the door and slide into the security of his familiar car.

“You cleaned your car,” you murmur as you notice a severe lack of McDonald’s trash.

He sniffs haughtily. 

“The trash added character.”

Jungkook doesn’t give you a chance to respond. Instead, he’s unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling you as close to him as he can get you. The instant his arms wrap around your body, the floodgates open again and your once-quieted tears turn back into full-fledged sobs.

“I loved him,” you gasp through the pain in your throat.

He rubs your back, pats your hair gently, soothing you the way he has for years now. Through every breakup, through every family fight with your older brother Namjoon, through all the mean girls in high school. Jungkook is the north star—always consistent, always guiding you back to safety.

“I know, babe,” he sighs. “You deserve someone who’s going to treat you right, who’s not just going to give up when things get hard.”

You choke back a cry against his Patagonia hoodie and bury your face further into the crook of his neck. He smells like Old Spice and the shampoo he uses, along with the smell of laundry soap you buy for him—he uses dish soap when he runs out and nearly broke his washing machine last time.

“I thought he was the one. I’m so stupid.”

Jungkook swallows hard. Tonight is about comforting you, not about feeling sorry for himself that you’re his best friend and not his girlfriend. He can’t help but think of what kind of life he would give you. He knows it’s one that wouldn’t end with you crying in a parking lot at 3 AM.

“You’re not stupid, you just loved him. And there’s nothing stupid about loving someone, even if it doesn’t work out,” he sighs as he cradles your head against him. It feels right having you there, pressed up against him and seeking comfort from the solace of his arms.

“Let’s go get a milkshake, yeah?” He asks as you pull your head up and look at him with sad, glassy eyes.

“Yeah,” you nod after a moment of staring.

Jungkook’s eyes sparkle with love, with hope. It makes the desperate, alone feeling inside you—disappear. Jungkook presses a soft kiss to your forehead and then starts the shaky ignition of his car, that takes three cranks of the key before it turns over.

He sends you a look, a laugh evident on your face.

“Don’t even start,” he warns. “The engine is fine.”

“Whatever you say,” you snort as you wipe an errant tear from your face.  

“It’s a certified classic car! I could get millions for this baby!”

As the weeks pass, the pain of losing Seokjin becomes further and further from your mind. You can get through the day without crying anytime you see something that reminds you of him and even start flirting with others without feeling like you’re cheating.

You just still haven’t reached the point where dating someone else even feels possible. You’re terrified of allowing someone close to you, letting them into a place where you’re inviting them to possibly hurt you. You’re not sure your heart is ready for it. 

“I think you’re just scared,” your older brother Namjoon states as he warms up a bottle of milk in boiling water. 

He cradles his new baby in one arm while the other works at the bottle of milk. 

“I’m not scared,” you huff. “I just don’t think it’s the right time.” 

Namjoon sighs and hands the gurgling newborn baby off to you and readies the bottle for you to feed your new niece, Jisoo. 

“Look, Seokjin sucks, okay? I know you two were together for some time, but in the end, he wasn’t the right one for you. There’s someone out there who is the right one for you. You know how many shit frogs I had to kiss before I got my prince?” 

You make a face as you feed Jisoo, who happily sucks and gazes at the lights above. 

“You call Jimin a prince?” 

Namjoon sighs dreamily as he watches the baby and thinks of his husband. 

“The dreamiest prince,” he breathes, eyes closed in bliss. “But back to your problems. I think you should get back out there. Go on some dates, meet some people. No one is telling you to fall in love and get married tomorrow. Just go have some fun.” 

You allow Namjoon’s words to mull through your mind. What could be the harm in joining a few dating sites, perhaps spending some time at the gym or grocery store flirting with someone cute?

“Fine,” you say. “I’ll think about it.” 

“Good. I can’t be the only one giving our parents grand-babies. Soo needs a cousin.” 

You smile down at the tiny bundle in your arms and imagine a future where you have a baby of your own. 

“Okay, I’m not trying to get knocked up, Joon.” 

“Whatever,” he sighs. “Help me choose a wall color for me and Jimin’s new master bathroom.” 

Tinder’s changed since the last time you used it, years ago. It’s gone from any semblance of dating to strictly an app used to get laid. 

It’s discouraging swiping through all the obvious fuckboys. Sure, a quick and easy lay sounds great, but you’re also trying to go out and enjoy real, traditional dates, and it seems none of these guys want to step foot outside of a bedroom. 

The swiping left becomes almost monotonous. You’re sitting on your couch, watching some documentary about serial killers, when a startling profile pops up on your Tinder feed. 

The picture that pops up is... Jungkook. You can’t stop the bubble of laughter that leaps from your chest. His profile is so authentically Jungkook that you’re swiping right before you even know it. 

Your brain doesn’t even comprehend what a match with Jungkook means, really. You’re still laughing as you click on the bubble to message him and send him as many laugh emojis as you can. 

“Hey guys, what’s up, Kookie here with another Let’s Play Minecraft video for ya. Be sure to like and subscribe if you enjoy this kind of content.”

Jungkook’s headset is firmly wrapped around his head, mic next to his mouth and hands at the ready on his mouse and keyboard. He’s set and in the zone. 

The game is well into play when the familiar chime of his phone goes off. It’s a Tinder notification—he can tell by the sound. He can’t help but roll his eyes, wondering what sort of boring conversation he’s meant to have with a girl who will probably ghost him, anyway. 

He lazily lifts his phone and glances at the notification, before dropping it back to the desk. 

His hand freezes on his mouse as he finally comprehends what he just read. 

He just matched with YOU. 

His best friend. 

His secret, lifelong crush. 

He sputters something into the microphone and stops recording his game, wildly grasping for the phone and unlocking it. 

YN: 😂😂😂😂 is your bio a Minecraft pickup line?!

He pauses, attempts to collect his thoughts, before desperately typing on his screen. 

JUNGKOOK: Why? 😉😏 did it work?

You spend the rest of your night jokingly flirting with Jungkook, sending GIFs and emojis in between the silly lines you’re using on each other. 

Right before you’re about to head to sleep, Jungkook sends one last message. 

JUNGKOOK: What if we went on a date lolol. Haha jk. Unless?? 👀👀👀

Your thumbs hover over the keys to your phone. 

A date with Jungkook? Even though you matched with him, you’ve never thought of a date with your childhood best friend. 

YN: alright, it’s only fair since we matched 😝 show me how you treat these tinder ladies

“I have a date with Jungkook tonight,” you tell your brother, Namjoon, over the phone. 

Over the crying of your newborn niece, you hear Namjoon splutter in confusion. 

“You what!?” He nearly screams. “Jeon Jungkook? Like... the annoying kid you’ve been friends with since fourth grade?”

You huff. 

“He’s not annoying! He’s my best friend. We ironically matched on Tinder and… Well, why the fuck not? Nothing serious is going to happen. We’ll go out and have a story to tell about how incompatible we are.”

Namjoon doesn’t reply. Instead, you hear him speak to his husband. 

“She’s going on a date with Jungkook,” he says over the muffle of his hand on the receiver.

There’s a shuffle, and the dulcet voice of your brother-in-law, Jimin, comes over the line. 

“Girl,” he starts. “What the fuck?”

You chuckle as you move about your closet, trying to decide what’s appropriate to wear on a date with your best friend. 

“It’s nothing!” 

“Mm-hmm,” Jimin tuts. “You know the boy is in love with you.” 

“Okay, Chim, you’ve been spending too much time cooped up with my brother. It’s affecting your grip on reality.”

“Sure, honey. I just tell it like it is. Don’t break his heart.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“I won’t break his heart because there’s nothing there, Jimin.”

“I’ll be expecting your call later.”

“Yes, dad. Love you guys.”

“We love you too, sweetheart. But really, don’t break that poor boy’s heart.”

You open your mouth to retort yet another reassurance that there’s nothing to break, but the line goes dead.

“Fucking Jimin,” you mutter as you throw your phone to the bed.

You can’t allow yourself to think that Jungkook might have feelings for you. It’s totally out of the questions. He’s your best friend. The guy who shoves Cheetos up his nose to make you laugh and falls asleep during every movie night with his face in the popcorn bowl. He’s just Jungkook. This date is just a funny way to hang out.

So, why do you care so much about what you wear?

You’re still standing in front of your closet, attempting to find something respectable to wear. It doesn’t matter that the last time Jungkook saw you; it was with mascara streaming down your face and a hoodie from Namjoon’s college swimming days and ripped leggings. Jungkook has seen you in nearly everything you wear, so your indecisiveness gives you pause.

Do you want Jungkook to be attracted to you? Do you want to do your best to look as presentable as you would for a normal date?

The thudding of your heart tells you that maybe you’re more interested in this being a date than you’re allowing yourself to believe.

You shake all thoughts off. 

No, you won’t allow yourself to overthink a night that should just be fun.

You settle for a fitted and simple summer dress, tights and heels. Simple, easy, respectable but also showing enough cleavage and sculpt of your ass to ensure you look more dressed up than not.

Perfect.

With one last look in the mirror, you’re ready.

JUNGKOOK: I’m outside!

ME: See you soon!

Jungkook taps his foot anxiously as he sits on the bench outside your apartment. His tight black jeans feel like a second skin on his legs, and the black button-down shirt he’s tucked in makes him rethink his choice of outfit.

Is he too casual?

He’s never really worn something like this around you. This is what Jungkook wears when he wants to seduce. This is what every girl he’s desperately wished was you got to see. The girls who swooned over his messy hair, the way his jeans display his toned thighs, the peek of skin at his throat.

Maybe it’s too much.

Maybe he’s afraid he’ll scare you away.

Maybe he’s afraid you won’t like it.

He’s given no chance to ruminate anymore because you’re exiting the building and walking straight towards him.

He doesn’t think he remembers how to breathe.

It’s as if you walk towards him in slow motion. Angels chorus around him and the setting sun sparkles on your face like a spotlight. There’s nothing in the world anymore, nothing but you.

You’re the most beautiful human he’s ever seen in his life.

“Hi,” you smile as you approach him.

He continues to stare, eyes traveling over the soft curves of your cheeks and jaw, trailing down to the way your dress clings just right to each dip of your body. His throat goes dry.

You are without a doubt the girl of his dreams. 

“Jungkook?”

It pushes him out of his reverie, eyes widening as he realizes he’s been staring at you for maybe a few minutes too long to play off as normal.

“Hey!” He coughs, attempting to right himself.

“You okay?” You ask, eyebrow lifted in concern.

“Yeah! Yup! Totally! I’m okay—a-okay, absolutely great.” He internally slaps himself.

“You clean up nice,” you smile as your eyes elevate up and down the lean form of his body.

“Oh?” He asks, taken aback. 

In his daze, he never even realized what you’re thinking about him, rather only how intensely he was thinking about you.

“This must be the Jungkook that all the girls in college couldn’t stop begging me to hook them up with.”

His cheeks flame with sudden embarrassment, hand moving to the back of his neck to rub it awkwardly. 

“Ha, yeah,” he swallows. “You look r-really nice too. I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress since your brother’s wedding.”

The smile that he’s rewarded with nearly knocks him on his ass. “Thanks! It’s fun to dress up cute again. Jin hated this dress.”

A stab of pain eeks its way into Jungkook’s heart. Seokjin. God, how he hates that man.

“Well, uh, you can wear whatever you want with me!” He assures. 

You loop your arm around Jungkook’s, saddling up to his side as you look at him expectantly.

“Well, are we going?”

Jungkook can’t help but smile at the sparkle in your eye, the way you peer up at him with those soft, cherry lips. He wants to capture them with his own, kiss you until you don’t remember Seokjin’s name ever again.

But he resists.

“Let’s go!”

You never thought you’d admit it to yourself. You never even thought it could happen. 

But the date is everything you’ve ever wanted, and more. 

Jungkook is still Jungkook, still just as silly and easy to talk to as he always is. 

But he’s also charming. Flirtatious, even. He holds doors open for you; he rests his hand on the small of your back as he guides you towards your table at dinner. He feeds you bites of his dessert and lets his eyes linger on the way your lips look wrapped around his fork. 

Jungkook treats you the way you’ve always wanted to be treated. Like someone he wants to cherish for the rest of your combined lives. Someone he wants to take care of, build a future with, enjoy life with.

And as much as it thrills you, it absolutely frightens you. 

It’s when you’re walking down the small river trail together that Jungkook slips his hand into yours and laces your fingers together. The once-steady beat of your heart becomes erratic. He continues chatting—as if holding your hand was a subconscious act for him. He’s knee deep in a story of his Minecraft server when you stop walking, causing him to pause. 

“What’s up?” He asks curiously. 

Your eyes glitter with anticipation, with fear, as you stare at the gorgeous man before you. He looks like a full course meal in his tight jeans and he makes you feel like a princess. You can suddenly see doing life by his side—no longer his platonic best friend, but as his lover and lifelong partner. 

You say nothing. Instead, you simply close the space between you two by grabbing the buttons of his shirt and tugging his lips onto yours. 

“Wha—oh, mmmmmm.”

Jungkook is still for a second as he battles the surprise, but jumps into action and cups your face with his hands, deepening the kiss by pushing his tongue past your lips and swirling it around your own. 

Your bodies press close together. He can feel your breasts against his chest and he desperately wants to rip the dress off your body and worship you like he’s always wanted to. 

As soon as the kiss started, it’s over. You’re pulling away with eyes wide with fear.

“I’m sorry, I—I need to go,” you stammer awkwardly.

Jungkook’s heart drops to his stomach.

“What? We were going to get ice cream?”

You can feel tears building in the corners of your eyes. You’re so confused, so unsure of what you’re feeling. You want to stay and kiss Jungkook until you’re clawing at the clothing on his body, pressing kisses to the firm column of his neck. You want to run far away, too scared to admit it to him you’re sure you could love him for the rest of his life.

You can’t lose that friendship. You can’t risk everything you love about Jungkook. He’ll only hurt you the way every boyfriend ever has.

“I don’t really feel well,” you swallow hard as you lie. Jungkook always knows when you’re lying.

His body stiffens.

“Okay, let me walk you home.”

You shake your head, already moving away from the man.

“It’s fine. We’re nearby. I’ll just run or something.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but you’ve already turned face and started running the direction away from him.

Jungkook watches, misty-eyed, as the girl of his dreams runs further and further away from him.

You’re sobbing as you finally reach home, out of breath and confused. The phone call to Namjoon is quick.

“Yo,” he says cooly as he answers the phone. His tone changes when he hears your whimpering sobs on the other end.

“Joonie,” you whisper. “I fucked up.”

“Oh god,” Namjoon quickly shuffles and calls his husband over, before putting the phone on speaker.

“What’s happened, baby?” Jimin’s sweet voice asks.

“I—I kissed him,” you sob, holding yourself close in the comfort of the elevator. 

Namjoon and Jimin look at each other with knowing looks.

“We’re on our way over.”

Jimin knows the first order of business is to stop the crying. He places sleeping baby Jisoo in your arms, which quiets your whimpers enough as you cling to the tiny baby. He knows your weakness is sleeping babies.

Namjoon looks on anxiously, hates seeing his little sister upset and with no way to make it better.

Jimin’s been asked to take the lead on this, because he knows his husband's response is to cry as well—he gets emotional anytime he sees her cry. Namjoon agreed, knowing Jimin was better suited for the conversation.

“Tell us what happened,” Jimin asks quietly. You’re rocking the baby gently, sobs turned to sniffles. “Did something go wrong on the date?”

Your eyes peer up at your brother-in-law’s, a wounded look that makes Jimin feel sad. Namjoon clenches beside him, and Jimin lays a hand on his lap to soothe the protective brother.

“No,” you whisper. “That’s the thing. It was an amazing date.”

Jimin watches you curiously, but remains silent to let you continue.

“We had dinner, and we played arcade games and we walked around. And he was so… fuck, he was perfect. It was like dating the guy of my dreams.”

Jimin nods knowingly.

“And it surprised you how much you liked him.”

“Yeah,” you sniffle. “At the end, he was holding my hand and just talking about normal, stupid Jungkook shit, but this time it felt like more. Like, I felt in my heart that I wanted to be the one he always talked to about it. I wanted to be the one he came home to at night.”

Jimin pats your cheek lovingly, the care for his sister-in-law clear in his gaze. 

“You don’t just like him, honey. I think you might even love him.”  

You pull baby Jisoo tighter into your grasp and nod, pathetic tears slipping down your face. 

“I just left him. Like, I ran away from him like an asshole.”

Namjoon grunts and takes a spot next to Jimin. “If he loves you, which I’m sure he does, he’ll still be waiting for you.”

Jimin nods and rests a hand on his husband's back. “But you better have one hell of an apology.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer your phone calls. He doesn’t respond to your texts, snapchats or Instagram DM’s. He doesn’t even look at the TikToks you sent him! It’s becoming infuriating to get in touch with him.

You take matters into your own hands and storm to his apartment after work, the rising tension in your shoulders and stomach full of rocks an indicator of your anxiety about the future of this relationship.

Jungkook opens the door wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweats. All the carefully crafted words exit your mind at light 

speed and you’re left gasping, wide-eyed at the chiseled body of your best friend.

“Can I help you?” He asks, tone flat.

Ouch.

You push past him into the apartment you know so well. “Yeah, you could start by answering your phone.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and closes the door, then heads back towards the large gaming setup in the living room.

“My apologies for not responding to the girl who literally ran away from me on a date.”

Your cheeks heat uncomfortably as you stand in the center of his living room, arms crossed over your chest. 

“Jungkook, listen. I’m—”

“Please,” he shakes his head as he sits down at the impressive gaming chair. “Save the apologies. I get it.”

“You don’t get it!” You say, exasperated. “You don’t get any of it! That’s why I’m here.”

Jungkook narrows a look at you then stands from his chair. Slowly, he makes his way towards you and stands inches from your face. The proximity of his bare, toned chest to your body makes your throat dry.

“No, you don’t get it.” His voice is threateningly quiet, completely different from his usual chipper tone. 

“Jungkook, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” He quirks his head sarcastically, and you’re struck by the sharp lines of his jaw. “Sorry for running away from the date? Sorry for going on a date? Sorry for making me feel like I had a fucking chance when you kissed me?”

You swallow hard and open your mouth to reply, but he cuts you off.

“I’m sorry too. For giving myself way too much hope that this could ever be something. I’m sorry for myself for thinking you’d at least respect me enough to reject me politely.”

“You always had a chance!” You can feel tears building in your eyes and Jungkook feels his heart pound in his chest like a drum.

He scoffs, a harsh and mirthless laugh. “Clearly not.”

“I just—,” you start. “I never saw you like that before and suddenly you became everything I’ve ever dreamed of. It was like getting hit by a train, Kook! Suddenly my best friend turned into the man of my dreams.”

He shakes his head, stepping back away from you.

“I really find it hard to believe you,” he whispers. “I can’t let myself hope.”

“Jungkook, please,” you beg as tears start slipping down your face. “Please believe me.”

“Just leave,” he sighs. “I hate making you cry.”

You want so badly to wrap yourself in his arms, cry into his chest like you always do when you’re hurt. But you stand still, frozen in your shame and embarrassment of hurting your best friend so badly.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, before you spin around as quickly as you can and leave Jungkook’s apartment in a flurry.

He watches as the door slams behind you, eyes full of sadness and regret. As much as he wants to believe you, have faith in every word you said, he can’t allow himself to get his hopes up again.

He can’t watch you run away from him again.

“Welcome back to Kookie’s Wild Weekly Walkthrough!” Jungkook cheers as enthusiastically as he can through his microphone. “The weekly segment where I react to your Minecraft worlds!”

Jungkook needed to dive back into streaming to take his mind off of you. He hasn’t left his apartment in days, only subsisting on takeout and coffee. At least he was making more money and his subscribers didn’t seem to mind the up-tick in content.

“Tonight I’ll be walking through a creation sent by,” he squints at the username. “‘Kookiesgal95’ Aww that’s cute.”  

He readies the content and starts his camera as he watches the YouTube link. His subscribers love his reaction videos—it’s a highly requested segment.

The video starts off easily, a generic Minecraft world that looks like a park.

“Hi Kook.”

The voice that reverberates through his headphones makes him pause the video quickly, wide-eyed with recognition.

It’s you. He’d know that voice from a million others. 

Shit. He’s going to have to edit so much of this clip. He’s staring at the screen as if he’s just seen a ghost.

Unsteadily, he clicks play again and watches as you lead him through your Minecraft creation.

“I wanted to recreate something for someone very special in my life.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother to react to this anymore. This entire video is going to be worthless—there’s nothing he can say.

The video pans around the Minecraft setup and he can see what looks like handmade swings and merry go rounds.

“It took me a really long time to do this and an embarrassing amount of help from some twelve-year-olds on the internet.”

He laughs and is stunned by the wet tears rolling down his cheeks. He hadn’t realized he was crying.

“I re-created a park that is really special to my best friend and I.”

He feels his chest tighten and relax. The park. 

“This is the spot where he held me when my dog died when I was nine. I still miss that dog.”

The view is on a spot next to a blocky oak tree. Jungkook remembers that day, remembers your heartbroken sobs as he whispered words of comfort to you. He misses that dog, too. 

“This is where he and my brother got in a fight when we were eleven, because my brother called me a stupid-head. My best friend has always been protective of me, even from my own big brother.”

He can still remember pushing Namjoon around after hearing him call you names. He pushed Namjoon over and threatened to use his “big muscles” if he did it again.

The camera pans to an enormous structure, rather sloppily made, of a slide and monkey bars.

“This is where we first shared a joint in high school. I coughed a lung up and he ran down the street to a gas station at ten pm to get me a bottle of water even though I told him I was okay,”

The memory of the bewildered 7-11 employee plays through his mind. The man watched as a very stoned, very out of breath, Jungkook paid for a bottle of water in coins.

The video continues playing, moves towards what appears to be a parking lot made of cobblestone blocks.

“This is where he held me when my world fell apart.”

The break-up. The way you cried and cried and cried in his arms and he held you as if you were the only thing left on Earth. 

“This is where he reminded me I’m worthy of love, that I’m not broken. This is where he held me like I was delicate, but treated me like I was unbreakable.”

His tears don’t stop. Jungkook feels his heart thundering in his chest like a summer storm. 

He can hear your sniffles through the recording of the video—you were crying too. It pans around to the swing set.

“And this is where I’ll tell him everything, tonight. Where I’ll tell him how deeply I love him and how I want to make him the happiest guy in the world. In all of Minecraft and beyond. I hope he comes.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother turning his camera off.

Instead, he’s running to change out of his three-day-old clothes and bolt out the door.

The creaky, rusty metal of the swing set is deafeningly loud in the silence of your park.

It’s dark, just a few street lights around to illuminate the perimeter, but it’s otherwise only lit by the moon.

It’s getting cold. You shiver in your hoodie and kick at the dirt under your swing. 

Maybe he didn’t see the video. Maybe he wasn’t going to show.

Maybe it was too late.

You spent hours working on the Minecraft world, staying up at all hours of the night to build and craft a poor re-creation of this park. The twelve-year-olds on Reddit had been invaluable and Namjoon definitely made fun of you for your creative assistants. But it had all been worth it. 

“Fuck,” you speak out loud to no one, as you try to warm your hands in the pockets of your sweater. “It’s cold.”

“You should have brought a jacket.”

The sudden voice from behind startles you. You hop off the swing and whip around to face  down the intruder.

Jungkook.

He looks so good. He’s wearing a thick coat and tight jeans. Your eyes take a delicious journey from head to toe.

He can’t help but preen at your blatant appreciation. He enjoys knowing you’re attracted to him, at least physically.

“You came.”

He nods and takes a nervous step towards you. He’s still far away, more than an arm's-reach away. You’re desperate to bring him closer, to pull him tight against your body and wrap yourself around him. You never want to be without his gentle touch again.

“I felt pretty compelled to come after you made all this in Minecraft for me.” He cracks a wry smile, a boy-ish grin that makes your heart flutter.

“It took me twenty-five hours and some teenagers to help.”

He laughs, a beautiful sound that warms you. “I’m sure they were ecstatic to help.”

You chew at the inside of your cheek, nervous at what he thinks about your in-game confession.

“Did you mean it?” He asks. He steps closer—one more step.

“Every word.”

His eyes are searching yours for the truth, desperately diving into the depths for validity.

“Why did you run away?” Another step.

You swallow hard, heavy tears brimming in your eyes.

“You went from being the silly best friend to being the person I could spend the rest of my life with. It all hit me. It’s always been you.”

One more step and now he’s just within your reach. If you stuck your hand out, your fingers would graze the soft puff of his coat, the delicate skin of his neck. 

“I’ve always felt that way about you. I never thought you’d feel the same.”

You smile softly, timidly. “It just took me a little while longer to realize it.”

All at once, Jungkook closes the gap and holds you gently by your cheeks. His thumbs wipe at the moisture under your eyes. 

“I promise to never make you cry again,” he whispers reverently. 

“And I promise to never run away from you again.” 

Jungkook smiles at that, cradling your face like you’re the most expensive and precious jewel. 

“Can I kiss you again?” He asks, somewhat unsure of himself. 

“I would like it if you would.”

As Jungkook presses his cold, plush lips to your own, you make a promise to yourself to never go a day without kissing him again. 

“I can’t believe you’re in my bedroom,” Jungkook murmurs as he kisses at your face. After the park, Jungkook loaded you into his priceless Nissan and scurried home. You could hardly keep your hands off him as he drove you back to his place—reaching and caressing the spots on his body you’re dying to become familiar with. 

“I’ve been in your bedroom before,” you remind him as he tugs up the hoodie you’re wearing. 

“God, don’t be so semantic when I’m trying to fuck you,” he says before throwing the hoodie to a corner of the room. “You know what I mean.”

Jungkook kisses you again, all lips and teeth and tongue. He kisses you like you’re the last breath of air, and he’s greedy for every bit. He grips your hips, not too tight, and brings your body against his. You can feel him grow in hardness in his too tight, and it feels like bliss. 

Teasingly, you grind your hips against his, making him shudder with desire.

“I want you,” he whines as he nibbles at your lip. 

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

He opens his eyes to level a look at you, pulling his mouth away from yours. 

“You’re such a little smartass.”

His hands become feverish on your jeans, tugging apart the button and flicking down the fly. He pushes them down quickly, and you kick them off carelessly. 

He can’t stop looking at you in your bra and panties, standing at the foot of his bed. 

“Holy shit, okay, this is happening, right? Like, this is real?” 

You smirk, pleased with Jungkook’s obvious excitement. 

“Let me prove it’s not just a dream.” 

Softly, you spin Jungkook around and push him down to sit on his bed. He complies easily, eyes wide and excited. 

“If this is a dream, would you be able to feel this?” You ask as you unbuckle  his belt and open his jeans. He doesn’t reply, simply watches you as you tug his jeans down to his thighs. 

His cock strains hard against his tight boxers, and you run a teasing finger over the obvious bulge. 

“Oh fuck,” he breathes. 

“Feels pretty real, huh?”

“Y-yeah.” 

Your delicate hands gently tug at the waistband of his boxers and easily work them down enough to free the length of his cock. It springs out easily and your eyes widen at the impressive size. You assumed he would be at least average, but you’re looking at something definitely more. 

“Oh wow,” you whisper. “You’re fucking huge.” 

Jungkook grins. “All for you, baby.” The cockiness is palpable. 

One solid grip around him wipes the presumptuous smile off his face, replaced with a gasping, shuddering moan. 

“How about this? Not a dream?”

He struggles to find his voice, instead he’s gulping for air like a fish out of water. 

“That’s what I thought,” you whisper before settling into a position on your knees. “I’ll admit, I’ve dreamt about this too. I always felt so ashamed for dreaming about sucking my best friend's cock.”

You press soft kisses to the head of his length, teasing the sensitive areas at the tip before kissing up and down the length. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

His evident desire for you encourages you, and your tongue swipes at the crown of his tip and swirls around it gently. 

“Oh my god.” His eyes shutter closed and you trace the veins in his dick with your tongue. 

“This h-has to be a dreeeaaaaam,” he whines as you make an exceptionally long stripe with the flat of your tongue. 

You pull off for a moment, humming. He springs his eyes open and watches as you reach behind your back and unsnap your bra. Your breasts escape with a bounce and his eyes widen, nearly bulging out of their sockets. 

“What the fuck,” he whines. “You have the most amazing tits.”

He reaches out to grasp them and you slap them away playfully. 

“Not yet,” you smirk. “Still trying to convince you you’re not asleep.” 

He sucks in his breath and puts his hands back to the bed to steady himself, eyes never leaving yours (except to stare at the luscious curves of your body). 

Grasping your breasts in both hands, you smash them together lightly in an elaborate show of what Jungkook wants most. You lean over his body and place the throbbing thickness of his cock in between your tits, allowing him to feel just how soft and warm they are. 

“Shit!” He yelps, grabbing his sheets in a tight fist. “Are you really tit-fucking me right now?!”

Slowly, you lift your body up and down, allowing his cock to feel each stroke of your breasts. You nod at his question and continue to pump up and down. 

“Still dreaming?” 

He whines and shakes his head, already feeling so close to the edge. His cock is slick from your teasing licks and the pressure of your tits surrounding him had his mind spinning with desire. 

“Ahhh, I’m so fucking close,” he warns.

You continue, speeding up the friction and pressure of your strokes. 

“I want you to cum on me, Kook,” you whisper encouragingly. “Cum on my tits, please?”

Jungkook feels like he’s a wire about to snap, and your thick, sultry voice and incredibly perfect breasts are the snips that breaks him apart. 

“Oh, shit,” he grunts. “Gonna paint your titties white, baby.”

His moans echo around the walls of his bedroom, small gasps of pleasure and your name escaping his perfectly plump pout. 

His hot load splatters on your chest, and you stroke him through each pulse of his cock. You’re slippery with his seed now, and when you pull away from his spent length, you make a show of rubbing in his cum over your chest.

“Okay, definitely not dreaming,” he says in a daze as he watches you lift a wet finger to your mouth, popping it in to clean it off. “Who knew you were so fucking kinky?” 

His confidence grows as he catches his breath. He can’t believe he’s sitting on his bed with you on your knees, breasts covered in his load. You’re suckling the cum off your finger like it’s his cock, and he’s desperate for more.

“There are lots of things you don’t know about me,” you shrug. 

Swiftly, he grabs you gently by your bicep and pulls you close, sucking at your lips until you’re both standing. 

“I plan to find out everything.” 

Suddenly, you’re switching positions and Jungkook is pushing you down into the bed. You lay flat in the center, body relaxed and eager for your best friend.

“What are you doing?” You ask. He’s still standing at the end of the bed, watching you get comfortable. Once he’s satisfied that you’re lying exactly how you want, he settles himself by your feet.

“Worshipping you,” he says as he lifts an ankle and presses gentle kisses to your calf. “Showing you how much I adore you.” More kisses, soft and sweet. “Showing you how I plan on treating you for the rest of your life.” 

He takes his time, lavishing your legs with his mouth. He kisses and sucks at any spot, sexual or not. He mouths at the roundness of your knees, your firm hamstrings. He presses his love into the skin of your thighs, mouthing his praises with each kiss. 

He reaches the dip of your hips and he gently kisses your exposed skin as he tugs your cotton panties off you. 

“I have loved every inch of you since before I can remember,” he praises as his lips skim over the mound of your cunt. “And I don’t plan on stopping soon.” 

Your body feels like it’s on fire, as if Jungkook lights a match at every spot his lips press against. Your eyes close, and you allow Jungkook to continue his pious worship of your body. 

He teases around your folds, kissing your labia ever so gently—making you gasp. He doesn’t linger long, only kisses you enough to stir the licking flames of heat in your belly.  

He kisses at your stomach, gently nibbling and laving at the softness there. You try to hide from him, try to hide your insecurities of your body in his thorough exploration, but he moves your hands. 

“I know you don’t like this part of your body,” he murmurs. His voice is so soft, so pure and sincere. “But I do. I love everything about you.” 

His tongue swirls around your belly button, making you gasp at the ticklish sensation. 

“You’re so pretty. So perfect.” 

He continues upwards, lips now trailing to your full breasts. He takes his time there, licking and kissing and flicking at your nipples with his tongue. It feels exhilarating—Jungkook’s mouth feels like everything you want it to feel like. His tongue is warm, and he bites with just enough pressure to make your back arch off the bed into his embrace.

His hands explore, taking stock of every millimeter of skin he can find. He wants to memorize every freckle, every bump, every scar and line. Your body is his paradise, and all he can think of is you, you, you.

One hand travels down your body as he moves his lips up your neck. It snakes down your stomach and deftly slides over your soaked core. You whine as you feel his fingers part your folds and dip into the wetness.

“So wet,” he says out loud, verbalizing every tantalizing detail of your body. “So perfect.”

His lips are finally at your own and you kiss him passionately, tongue swirling around his as he slides his two fingers past your clit and into your drenched hole. You gasp against his mouth, eyes widening as he slowly scissors his fingers into you and pumps slowly. It’s almost teasing, the way he fucks his fingers in you. Slow, firm movements with his powerful hands.

“Jungkook!” You gasp. He doesn’t reply, instead he bites at your lip and tugs, then trails his hot mouth back down to your nipples. He can’t get enough of your breasts and the slightly salty taste of him still lingering.

“You feel so good,” he says as he speeds his fingers up minutely. “So tight and wet for me.”

Your hips writhe in need. He’s giving you what you need, but not enough. You need more, more. You want to feel him, all of him, spearing you open.

“Please, Kook,” you groan. “I need you.”

He laughs softly against your nipple and sucks extra hard, letting it pop out of his mouth audibly.

“And I need you, my love.”

“Fuck me, please.” You’re desperate, thighs quaking from the slow teasing. “I want you to fuck me, Jungkook.”

Chills shudder down Jungkook’s spine and he’s powerless to say no, not when you demand it so well.

“With pleasure,” he agrees. He pulls his fingers from within you and copies your move, sliding them into his mouth to suck your essence off. 

He’s never looked sexier. His eyes are dark chocolate pools of burning intensity, and you feel your breath become shaky as you watch him clean his fingers with precision.

After he’s deemed his fingers sufficiently clean, he settles himself between your legs. Easily, he lifts your hips and shoves a pillow underneath, elevating you to a more comfortable position. He grabs your legs and tosses each over his shoulders so they’re higher in the air. 

“I’m going to fuck you so good, baby,” he promises as he rubs the tip of his cock on your soppy slit. “Condom?”

You shake your head, appreciative of his question but desperate to feel him completely.

“Birth control. Regularly tested. Haven’t had sex in a while,” you blurt out. “You good?”

He nods in agreement. “Same. Well, except the birth control. But, I’d take it if they made it for men.”

“Jungkook!” You whine. Your best friend is so easily sidetracked. “Please, can you fuck me?”

He grins. “Tsk, someone is impatient.”

A low moan is rumbling in your chest as he continues to rub his thick cock at your entrance.

“I swear to god, you’re the biggest tease.”

“Oh, I’m definitely the biggest.”

Before you can react, he’s pushing past your entrance and sliding deep in your walls. Your position makes his cock feel deep, and he bottoms out and stills there, eyes closed in bliss.

“Holy shit,” he gasps. “This is absolutely the best pussy I’ve ever felt.”

You wiggle your hips as you get used to the sensation of the delicious stretch.

“Please don’t tell me how many pussies you’ve felt when you’re balls deep inside of me.”

Jungkook turns his head and kisses at your legs resting on his shoulders, lavishing them with his praise once more as he keeps his cock buried inside your tight heat.

“Yours is the only one that matters. The only pussy I’ll ever be in for the rest of my life.”

“That’s a good answer,” you smile. “Now, fuck me, lover boy.”

Jungkook winks and grips your hips with his hands. He swiftly pulls out, enamored with the way his cock is already covered in your creamy essence, then eagerly pushes back in. He sets a pace and soon the sound of skin clapping on skin echoes around the room.

“Oh god!” You’re moaning loudly, unabashedly. You’re thankful that Jungkook’s old roommate, Yoongi, moved out to live with his boyfriend Hoseok months ago. He’d definitely complain about the noise for months. “Fuck, Jungkook, you feel so good.”

Jungkook fucks into you with ferocity, speed and power gradually rising as he feels his core tighten with the coming anticipation of release.

“Mmm, you look so fucking sexy like this,” he murmurs. “Getting fucked by your best friend’s fat cock.”

He moves a hand from your hip, trails it up your body to squeeze at your breast, before he’s cupping your face once again. His hips snap against yours and he loves the way your mouth utters little squeaks and gasps with each deep thrust into you.

“God, my beautiful girl,” he groans. “Can’t wait to cum in this pussy, shit, you got me so fucking close.”

You open your mouth desperately and Jungkook easily slips his thumb in. You latch on quickly and suck, tongue swirling around the tip like you’re sucking another cock. It nearly sends him over the edge and the speed of his hips matches his desperate need for more.

“Fucking hell,” he bites back. He can feel his belly tighten, driven further and further to the edge by the constricting wetness of your cunt. 

He pulls his thumb out and moves it down to where his cock spears into you, allowing your spit to swirl with his thumb around your clit. Your core tightens around him at the added stimulation and your back arches up in ecstasy.

“I’m so c-close, Kook,” you plead, as if begging for mercy. “Please, I want to cum so bad.”

The speed of his thumb increases, and he watches as your face twists in pleasure and desperation. 

“Cum on my cock, baby, let me see you fall apart. Show me what I’ve dreamt of for so long.”

A high and wanton cry ripples out of your body as he savagely increases his speed, both his cock and thumb working overtime to drive you towards your end. The butterflies that erupt in your lower stomach make your moans louder, higher. You’re so close, closer than ever. It’s building to an incredible crescendo.

He can tell you’re close—he sees it on your face as your back arches and your fists grip his sheets.

“You look like a fucking angel, baby,” he whines as he soaks in the vision of you writhing underneath him. “I bet you cum like an angel, too. Let me see it, let me see.”

With just a few more swirls of his thumb and his deep, hard strokes, you’re soaring over the edge into a pool of nothingness. Your cunt pulsates wildly around his length, milking and stroking it with your tight walls. You throw your head back, moaning out his name at the top of his lungs, letting his neighbors know just who fucks you so well.

“Holy shit,” he gasps, hips stuttering as he fucks into your juicy hole. “That was so fucking sexy.”

You grip his forearms, holding onto him tight and encourage him to go harder. “Cum inside me, Kookie, please. I’m all yours, make me yours.”

His heart feels like it might burst in his chest. He’s always wanted you to say it to him, to hand over your love to him like he does so easily to you. It’s all so much, so overwhelming, and the feeling of your hot cunt still fluttering around him sends him reeling into his own completion. 

He spills into you, warm seed coating your walls and pooling inside your womb. He fucks himself through each throb of his cock until he’s sure he’s drained every ounce of himself into you.

Your legs slip off his shoulders easily, and he gently pulls himself out of you. He falls beside you, panting with exertion, and wraps an arm around you.

After a few silent moments of catching your breath, Jungkook pulls you in close to him until he can koala-cling to you, arms and legs both wrapped around your body.

“Mine,” he whispers as he kisses your head. “All mine.”

You return the favor, clinging to your best friend—boyfriend—like he’s your only lifeline.

“All yours.”

“So, you’re telling me, you got together because of Minecraft?” Jimin asks, pointing a fork in your direction. It’s been months now since your grand virtual declaration of love for Jungkook. Months of bliss and romance, laughter and companionship. 

You were right all along. Jungkook is everything you’ve wanted in a man and more.

You’re sitting at your brother’s expensive dinner table, enjoying a meal with his family with your boyfriend at your side.

“Yeah, Jimin, I guess that’s what I’m saying,” you retort as you roll your eyes. “Minecraft and Tinder.”

Baby Jisoo is awake and in your brother’s arms, but she’s whining and wiggling to leave him.

“What’s wrong, Soo?” Namjoon asks with a pout on his lips. “Why don’t you want daddy anymore?”

Jimin snorts at his husband and you hold out your arms for your baby niece. “Come here, baby, I know you want auntie.”

Namjoon dutifully hands over his daughter, sulking that he’s been picked over for his sister. 

You cradle the baby in your arms, expecting her to calm once she’s there, but she continues to fuss. She’s thrusting her arms out and nearly crying, reaching towards Jungkook who’s busy chowing down on Jimin’s homemade ramen.

“I think she wants you, Kook,” you murmur. He looks at you, then to the baby, then back to you, before he wipes his hands and face clean with a napkin.

“Oh, okay,” he whispers, slowly taking the baby from your arms with your help. “Hello, ma’am.”

Namjoon and Jimin laugh. “She’s a baby, Jungkook, not an elderly woman,” your brother teases.

Jungkook doesn’t listen. He’s too busy cooing at the baby in his arms and playing with her tiny hands. Namjoon turns his attention away and looks at you.

“Guess I won’t be the only provider of grandchildren for much longer.”

You playfully glare at him and turn away to watch your boyfriend. Watching Jungkook interact with your niece makes your heart swell, your soul sing. He’d be a perfect father.

“I swear, if he teaches her how to play Minecraft, he’s banned from the household,” Jimin grumbles. “This is a No-Nerd-Zone.”

Jungkook cradles the child and rocks back and forth, singing her a soft, made-up song, before he looks over at you.

“Hey, I want one of these,” he smiles. “Can we have one?”

You lay a hand on your stomach, a soft bump not quite visible yet. It’s only been one test, the lines faintly indicating ‘positive’ on the stick. You wanted to make sure, get confirmation before you spill the beans.

“Sure, Kookie.”

He grins and leans over to kiss you, before turning his attention back to the baby. “Okay, Jisoo, now let me tell you all about the Endermen.”

Jimin groans. “Oh my god, do not give Minecraft facts to my infant!”

tag list - @giadalin @nohayarcoirissintormenta @pjmislovely @xhazmania @marcoazam2 @eggbutnotyolk @feel-the-sunset @unicornbabylover @aretha170 @jeonmisha @hordanhearsawhooo 

© ppersonna - 2021 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fic #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook #ficswithluv #jjk smut #bts fics #jjk fic #jungkook fic

[bluewinnerangel]

Hii how are you? I was just wondering about the tweet in your header. What was the context? Like what did a fan say that made him send that reply?

Hi! I'll explain the context but also the context of why I have it as a header, because there's some SBB behavior going on here which drove me of a cliff as I saw it happening and I'm not gonna waste an opportunity to go off about it. Anyway the tweet:

He was replying to this:

Which yeah that person's totally reading into things and clowning, but the funny (and maybe intentional) thing is this was right after he exhibited some BEHAVIOR that I read into SO much. The reading into things tweet was part of a whole twitter spree, that started off like this:

Asks a question, then instead of engaging and replying to the responses he's poof gone for 40 minutes, k then, comes back to reply to "prince hair harry love bot" about pancakes:

And that's all fine and innocent were it not for these:

Look at the date and time on these. Look at the contents on these. Really just

Stay skeptical and all that but him tweeting not just exactly a decade after this tweet but the EXACT SAME MINUTE inviting a conversation and then just sitting on his ass for 40 minutes only to come back with a "[subject of the 10 year old tweet] ObViOuSlY"? You wanna call that a coincidence knowing what he's capable of be my guest but I'm just gonna go nah-ah. nuh nuh nuh. There are 2 giggling adult toddlers behind this proud they're still enjoying each others sausages for breakfast.

I said what I said.

What I would like to think happened here is these dorks having a lil anniversary celebration of that tweet. Yes that 2011 tweeting behavior was uh.. something (WE KNOW YA NASTY. YOU'VE TOLD US 28X369 TIMES PIPE IT DOWN), but it's not just any tweet, they had signed it "Miss you all! Louis & Harry x" which makes it the only tweet in history of tweets that's signed by them and only them too, so meant dirty or not (it was) it's definitely a special tweet that totally makes sense to me would be significant enough to them to honor or whatever this was to this extent and so they did. I totally think they are aware of the twitter uh 'confessions' they sent into orbit that are all turning or have turned a decade old this year and some are just a lil extra special like this one, plus there are plenty of indicators they really are doing stuff on certain dates related to something that happened on that day some years before as well.

So then on that fine jan 26th I imagine he scheduled a tweet with a content that's opening the floodgates for things to reply to and then waited to hit that sweet spot of "but he's just replying to a tweet, it's just a coincidence!" simple shrug off with an advanced-search reply-containing-"pancakes". It's the most RBBSBB twitterbehavior I've seen that fits them way way waaayyy too well and the fact that I'm spewing all this shit ^ the way I am is why I made it into a header.

Not to mention he really did say "you lot read into things too much" and then proceeded to do the loudest crap maybe ever only days after it on the 1 year anniversary of Walls with all the spotify backgrounds and how he went "im not waiting 40 mins again for the right tweet so that me dropping maybe tomorrow can look organic, this question about my album will do bubye".

He also replied to a fan mocking him after he started yet another thing to read into

Long story short:

(and the answer is yes.)

#i just got a whole bunch of new followers from that appreciation post #and oh god #the first thing i do is drop this shit #gayvinci code #oh god some of you are gonna yeet tf away from here arent you #hi <3 just enjoy the wilding <3 #sorry not sorry it just makes a little too much sense to me #and fits perfectly in the idea i have of them #which is that theyre the best kind of insane

[krisdreaming]

Hello!! Requesting for headcanon reactions of Akaashi, Kageyama, Oikawa, and Iwaizmui with a S/O who made them lunch and surprises them, but the team dont know them??? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 thank you! 😍🥰🤩

Aww, this is so cute!! I made it a tiny bit more general it’s not necessarily lunch every time, but same idea! 

-

AKAASHI

You and Akaashi have barely been officially dating for a week, so you’ve never even been to one of his volleyball practices before, but your friends insisted that you should make him some onigiri and bring it to practice for him

They walk with you all the way to the gym to ensure that you don’t chicken out, but the moment you’re at the doors, they’re gone and so you stand there in front of the door for a few moments to work up the courage to open it

Finally, you reach out and open the door, poking just your head inside and looking around until you catch sight of Akaashi. You slowly step inside, cradling the little package in front of you, and the door slams behind you waaay louder than you thought it would. Suddenly, all eyes are on you

Akaashi does a double-take when he sees you, and you manage a tiny wobbly smile as you briefly consider turning around and sprinting all the way home

But then he’s walking toward you, and he’s a little sweaty but thankfully he doesn’t look annoyed that you’re here like you worried he might be. He’s actually smiling at you, and you can’t help but smile back.

“Hey,” He says when he reaches you, “Is everything alright?” There’s a hoot from somewhere behind him, and he turns back for half a second with a frown before he focuses on you again. There’s a buzz of chattering and tittering picking up amongst the team, and you can’t help but glance at them.

“Yeah, fine,” You nod, shoving the box to him, “I, uh, I made you some onigiri. For after practice. If you’re hungry.” You finally get it all out. 

“Really?” He blinks at you, and you nod, feeling your face heat up. “Wow, thank you.” He looks down at the box, a tiny smile on his face, then looks back at you. “This is nice.” He glances once more at the team, who isn’t bothering to hide their curiosity, before leaning forward and giving you a lightning-quick peck on the cheek.

“AKAASHIII!” That’s all it takes for the floodgates to open, “What the heck?!?! Introduce us!!!” “You didn’t tell us about this!”

“I guess I should introduce you to everyone,” He says sheepishly, and grabs your hand, leading you a few steps further into the gym. “Guys, this is Y/N. My s/o.”

It’s a little overwhelming, but the guys all seem excited to meet you, and the small, proud smile doesn’t leave Akaashi’s face the whole time he’s introducing you. Afterwards, he says, “Practice is almost over. If you wait a bit, I’ll walk you to the train station.” You smile. “Sounds great.”

For the rest of practice, while the managers make conversation with you, you can’t help but notice how often Akaashi glances your way.

KAGEYAMA

You fiddle with the wrapping of the bento you’d made for Kageyama. Last night when you were putting it together, it had seemed like a great idea, perfect, in fact. Now that you realize you’ll need to give it to him in front of the entire volleyball team, you’re starting to second guess.

The moment you step inside the gym, a few people notice you. Your boyfriend is not one of them. “Hey! Y/N!” Hinata shouts, waving his arms above his head in greeting. At the mention of your name, Kageyama whips his head around, and the moment his eyes land on you a blush begins to creep across his face

You lift your hand in a small wave, and after a few moments of hesitation and glancing around, he awkwardly returns the gesture. “Hi there!” Before he can even begin to make his way over to you, two of the second years pop up in front of you. “What can we do for ya?”

“Actually, I’m here to-” “Y/N,” Kageyama appears directly behind them and their jaws probably hit the floor. “Here, I made this for you,” You shove the bento toward him before you lose your nerve, and he reaches out to take it almost like an automatic reaction.

“Aww!!” One of the third years coos from somewhere behind you. “Now I’ve seen everything,” you hear Tsukishima from your class say in a half-whisper to Yamaguchi.

“Thank you.” By now, Kageyama is beet red, holding the bento box gingerly in front of himself like it’s a bomb that might blow up if he holds it the wrong way. Slowly, the rest of the team has given up on practicing and is forming a loose circle behind the two of you.

“Hello,” The one you think must be the captain says to you with a grin, “So, Kageyama, are you going to introduce us, or just let them stand there?” He chuckles.

“Ah,” Kageyama straightens up, and turns so he’s standing next to you, his arm just brushing yours. “Yeah, right. This is Y/N.” He glances at you, and you flash a quick smile, first to him, then to the rest of the team gathered around. “Um, my s/o.” He adds, quickly.

There’s a chorus of surprised sounds and greetings and some gentle teasing for Kageyama, and to your surprise, he has a small, pleased smile on his face. The gray-haired third year slugs him on the arm.

He glances at the captain, who gives him a slight nod, then at you. “We’re soon done, let me walk you to class afterwards.” You smile. “Sounds great.” He jogs back to the court but not before one final smile over his shoulder.

OIKAWA

With the playoffs coming up, you know the team has been practicing even harder than usual, and of course Oikawa especially. You haven’t been dating long, but it’s long enough to know how important it is to him, and how hard he works. You just want to help however you can, and for you, that means making him some healthy treats for after practice.

When you get there, he’s practicing his serves. You’ve seen them in games before, but seeing them more up close like this is another matter entirely. When the ball hits the court, you jump, and it’s that moment when a few of the third years notice you. 

Iwaizumi just smiles at you, because he’s the only person on the team that actually knows you and Oikawa are together. The other dark-haired one takes one look at you and the container in your hands and says, “Oikawa, there’s a fan here for you.” You nearly choke, and Oikawa rests the ball he’d been getting ready to serve on his hip and turns to look at you. From the looks of it, he almost chokes, too.

“Y/N?” He immediately jogs toward you, and slowly the rest of the team realizes you’re there. “Hold on,” The lighter haired third year crows, “Mattsun, I think you’re wrong, no way that’s just a fan.” He snickers.

“What’re you doing here?” Oikawa asks, purposefully ignoring the whispers coming from behind him. You shoot him an apologetic smile. “I brought you a snack, for when you take a break.” You say, holding it out to him. “Oh,” He says, and for a few moments you aren’t sure what his reaction will be, or even if he’ll ask you to leave, but then he breaks into a smile.

“Aw, Y/N,” He takes it from you and peeks inside. “It looks perfect.” He grins. “Hey, have you met the team yet?” He turns to find the majority of them ogling the two of you. “No!” One of the second years supplies an answer.

"Fine, fine!’ He acts exasperated, but he’s grinning. “Really quick.” He runs through the team and introduces you to everyone. He rests his hands on his hips. “And now you’ve met the team. We need to get back to practice,” He gives them all a pointed look, “But I’ll text you later. Promise.” He grins and leans in for a quick peck. “Thank you,” He adds, more quietly, as he pulls away. He acts like he doesn’t hear the whistles.

“Bye!” You give him one last wave before you head out the door. Just as it starts to close, you hear, “Yo, you gonna share any of that, OIkawa?” “No way!”

IWAIZUMI

Clutching onto the convenience store bag, you stand outside the gym doors and hesitate. When Iwaizumi texted you that morning saying he’d overslept an hadn’t had time to grab anything for breakfast, you immediately knew you had to pick something up for him, but now you realize that giving it to him requires stopping by morning practice.

You’ve only been dating for a few weeks, and you’re not sure you’re ready to meet the entire volleyball team all at once. The only person you really know so far other than your boyfriend is Oikawa. Still, you have to give him the breakfast you’d bought, so you open the doors and step inside.

You pick out Iwaizumi almost right away, and you can’t help but smile to see him turn to one of his teammates with a grin and compliment their spike.

Almost as though he can sense your gaze on him, he glances your way next. His first reaction is one of surprise, but it soon turns into a smile as he lifts his hand in a wave. You return it.

“Iwa-chan, go say hi already!” Oikawa shouts from across the court, and that’s all it takes for the rest of the team to realize you’re there. It feels like every eye is on you by the time he reaches you.

“Good morning,” You say, lifting up the bag so he can see the contents. He peers inside, then looks at you. “What? This is for me?” You nod. “You need to eat breakfast,” You chide him gently.

“Iwaizumi, I think we need an explanation!” Someone bellows before he can respond. “You gonna leave us hanging?” Someone else chimes in, and Iwaizumi gives you an apologetic shrug.

“This is my s/o.” His hand is at your elbow for a fraction of a second. “Y/N.” He smiles at you as a chorus of “hi”s and “hello”s hits you. “Dude, when were you going to tell us?” Everyone has gathered into a loose semi-circle around the two of you, and you subconsciously step just a little closer to Iwaizumi.

“Ideally? Never.” He grumbles good-naturedly. “Rude!” “But he told me,” Oikawa informs them smugly. “I’m pretty good at keeping your secret, huh, Iwa-chan?”

“It’s not a secret,” He quickly retorts, “I just knew you’d make it a big deal, and I was right!” “But it is a big deal! Our little Iwaizumi, all grown up, going out on dates-” With that he gently takes your elbow and moves the two of you a little closer to the door.

“Sorry, they’re-” “I think they’re great,” You giggle, and his expression softens. “Okay. Ah, good. Anyway, I never thanked you for the food.” He takes the bag you’d almost forgotten you were holding. “So... thank you.” With a quick glance around, he leans in and presses a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Woo!” Someone shouts from across the court. He shakes his head. “I should get back.” He says apologetically. “I’ll see you at lunch?” “Definitely,” You grin.

#Haikyuu #500 #1k #2k #Haikyuu headcanons #Akaashi Keiji #Akaashi Keiji x reader #Akaashi x reader #Kageyama Tobio #Kageyama Tobio x reader #Kageyama x reader #Oikawa Tooru #OIkawa Tooru x reader #Oikawa x reader #Iwaizumi Hajime #Iwaizumi Hajime x reader #Iwaizumi x reader #Haikyuu x reader #request