#he was told to not be afraid to run over the competition and took it to the extreme without hesitation or second thought and it’s biting him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spicyllewyn · 7 months

Text

Kinktober 6. - Mirror sex.

Moon system x F!Reader

Tags & warnings. Mirror sex + hair pulling. (+18)

Word count. 2.8k

Summary. Marc got tired of Steven and Jake breaking his rules.

Kinktober masterlist.

So far, the agreement had been going relatively well. You were in a serious relationship with Marc at first, you met in a café like those silly romantic movies, with the small difference that you almost killed him by spilling your cold drink on him and tripping over him.

Neither of you could deny that things were moving very fast, but everything with him was so ridiculously easy that you weren't afraid to give him your all. You told him about the pet you lost when you were young, about the disagreements with your parents, and the occasional traumatic event in your life. He did the same.

When he told you about Steven and Jake, you joked that he was winning the trauma competition, and he could breathe easy knowing that this was not even close to being an obstacle to your relationship. He could trust you.

Things began to get a bit out of control when everything also became easy with Jake and Steven, each with their own personal charm. You never imagined being with three very different guys, but starting to experience it was a real adventure. The problem was that while you were having fun, they had endless discussions about you and the boundaries they set for each other.

Well, the boundaries that Marc set.

The main and biggest one was that marks on your body were prohibited. He understood that all four were part of the relationship equally, but he also used something he liked to call "privileges of having met you first and being the main reason why everyone is together." Or something like that, he always changed the name for it, the thing is he couldn't help but be a jealous man, he hated that Jake and Steven would forget who you belonged to first.

The first one to break the rule was Steven, unconsciously. You didn't know anyone who was a bigger fan of make-out sessions than him, and when his kisses got deeper, more desperate, he had the habit of holding onto your hips as if you were about to run away at any moment, or as if he wanted to verify that you were real and that you were in his arms, devouring his mouth as if you depended on it to live.

That, combined with the fact that he had a terrible habit of forgetting that his muscles were stronger than he thought. You tried to be as discreet as possible when his fingers left marks on your skin, but with someone as touchy as Jake, it was impossible to keep secrets about your body.

He took it as a challenge, of course. If Steven could break the rules, why couldn't he?

The next day, you could be sure that he saw you as a blank canvas because your neck, your shoulders, and even your breasts were covered in bites and hickeys. You didn't remember him being so aggressive, but maybe pleasure had blinded you.

"What is this?" Marc held your chin, turning your face slightly, just enough to get a better view of your neck.

"It was Jake." You chuckled, still distracted by your phone as you let him guide you, without noticing how his jaw clenched, but feeling his fingers tighten on your jaw.

"Darling?"

Your eyes traveled to him.

"Mhm?"

"Will you come with me to the bedroom? We need to talk."

With a furrowed brow, you obeyed because the hand that held your chin ended up in one of your hands, pulling you as if he were a child wanting to show you something very important.

"Am I in trouble?" You joked as you watched him close the door behind you.

"Sit on the bed."

"Am I...?"

His brown eyes on you were enough for you to obey once again.

"Could you explain to me what the hell is this?" His hand in your hair made you turn your gaze away from the mirror you had in front, leaving the marks in plain sight.

You immediately understood who he was talking to.

Or whom.

"Oh, come on, hermano." Jake rolled his eyes in the mirror's reflection, his arms crossed over his chest. "Steven broke it first."

"False!" The mentioned objected after. It seemed like a competition of who could make Marc lose his patience first. "I would never do something like that."

"Check her hips if you don't believe me."

Raising an eyebrow, Marc released your hair.

"Stand up, sweetheart."

If there's one thing you've learned over time in this relationship, it's that it's not worth objecting when one or all three of them are arguing, especially when you don't even know what the problem is. You stood up slowly, wearing Steven's blue sweater that you slept in, which only covered half of your thighs.

He slowly lifted the edge of the fabric, his fingers brushing your thighs and causing a slight shiver. You could swear you heard him growl when he found the damn marks that fit perfectly with the size of his hands. Some of them were covered by your panties but they were pretty visible, already turning to a purple color.

“I-I didn't even notice those were there!”

“Why can Steven do it and I can't? That’s a damn injustice if you ask me.”

“Fortunately, Jake, I'm not asking you.” He rolled his eyes while you tried to imagine what the other two boys responded to him from the headspace. "On your knees."

The cold of the floor on your skin felt good and you had to look up to meet your boyfriend's chocolate gaze. You never had a problem following his orders.

“The problem here…” His fingers ran through your hair slowly, making you close your eyes for a few seconds. “They are forgetting who you belong to. Who do they think they are to mark my girl like this, huh?” He cooed, the gaze of the other two fixed on him.

Your hands went to the hem of his pants, and when he didn't object, you understood well what he wanted. A small smile spread across your lips as you freed him from his tight black jeans, as well as his underwear.

He wasn't completely hard yet until your tongue ran along his entire length from base to tip.

“I want you to show them who was your first, my love.” Your fingers, as if you were an expert, wrapped around his cock, giving it a squeeze before beginning a slow, up-and-down pace. “Who you think about every fucking time you cum.”

You couldn't see it, but in detail you imagined the way Jake was rolling his eyes.

“It's a punishment for all 3 of you, you understand, don't you, honey?” His eyes boring into you as you kissed all around his cock wetly. “What makes you believe you should allow yourself to be treated that way?”

You parted your lips, taking the head inside before starting to suck. That always gave him chills, the way you didn't rush.

“No-oh.” His fingers tangled in your hair, those soft caresses had stopped. One push of his hand and you had half of his erection inside your mouth. He groaned.

Although you enjoyed taking your time and savoring every inch of Marc, he seemed to be in a hurry, you thought that perhaps the clumsy and aggressive way in which he was directing your head movements was part of the supposed punishment.

Were you supposed to not enjoy that?

“Push deeper.” Jake's voice caught Marc's attention, who a few seconds ago had been distracted by the messy and sloppy way you were sucking him off. He could have sworn there was a point where the only sound in the room was your saliva every time he slid over your tongue.

Marc looked at the mirror with a frown.

“Push harder.” He repeated, looking up. “Steven always fucks her mouth until she cries, if you want to prove your point push harder. Right, Steven?"

The other boy received an elbow against his ribs that forced him to look up. It seems he was enchanted by watching the way your left cheek bulged against the pressure of the head of Marc's lenght against it.

Still distracted, he nodded quickly.

It was that what resulted in you suddenly feeling him push your head harder. The brush against your throat brought tears to your eyes and you heard your boyfriend grunt. He was never so rude.

You didn't complain, though.

You tried your best to relax the muscles in your throat around him, but you were so caught off guard that a couple of gags only did the opposite, feeling you squeeze him every few seconds until he guided your head back.

Saliva ran from your lips to your chin, some drops ending up on your neck. You broke the string of saliva that joined his cock to your mouth by licking your lips.

You sniffed, looking up before giving Marc a smile.

“Oh, you like that, don't you?” His fingers wrapped around himself so he could hit your tongue with his heavy member. You kept your tongue out, happy to receive it and hear the wet slapping. “Or does Steven do it better?”

Another movement of his hips was so abrupt that you felt your nose eventually collide with his lower abdomen, having to close your eyes as your tears ran down them. Still, you didn't give up, you didn't use your well-known "signal" to ask for some mercy.

Instead you moved your tongue slowly underneath, you only managed to graze his balls with the tip of it but it was enough to get a gasp from his throat. You held on for more seconds than you thought you were capable of before it was Marc himself who pushed you away.

It took you several seconds to even out your desperate breathing, you wiped your lips on the sleeve of Steven's sweater.

"Stand up." He ordered. His chest rising and falling rapidly. Jake's smirk on the other side of the mirror screamed at him that he knew. He knew Marc would finish stupidly quickly if he kept fucking your throat like that.

You swallowed hard before standing on shaky legs, the intense heat between your legs beginning to burn through your entire body, without receiving any kind of attention the only thing you could feel was the way your insides clenched around nothing.

"Turn around." Your cheeks took on a reddish color as you remembered the two pairs of eyes that were on you on the other side of the reflection. You slowly turned your back on him, your fingers gripping the wooden cabinet that held the huge mirror. “You better not close your eyes, I want you to look at them.”

Marc's hands took care of the job, pulling the hem of the sweater up to your waist and pulling your panties down to your ankles. You didn't need instructions to spread your legs and raise your ass for him.

He positioned himself behind your body, holding his cock for help. The tip separated your lips and you flinched when it brushed your swollen clit, it was just a couple of brushes as if he wanted to collect your juices on it in order to make penetration easier.

Although with you dripping and him full of your saliva, at this point it was just his pettiness and his desire to make you beg. You lifted your hips higher.

Marc looked down, his hand positioning itself exactly over Steven's finger marks and with a single movement you felt him slide inside you. Your legs trembled as you received him this deep and rough way, an action that you recognized as more typical of Jake.

“M-Marc, fuck, Marc.” You stammered as your body tried to get used to his size. No matter how many times you had done this, it was like your body insisted on giving him that death grip that drove him crazy.

"That's it." He caught her bottom lip between his teeth in a lousy attempt to silence her gasps. “Louder, baby, remind them who's fucking you.”

Somehow you felt like Jake and Steven's eyes burned into your skin. You couldn't look in the mirror, not while you were babbling Marc's name between moans, with that look that made it obvious how cockdrunk you were with just a couple of thrusts.

When Marc hit that sweet spot that made you vibrate from head to toe, your eyes closed automatically, your head falling downward.

"No." He growled, his hand rising to place it in your hair where he tangled his fingers. The sudden tug he gave to your locks made you snap your head up and let out a loud gasp, your eyes snapping open. "Look at them."

On the other side Jake was leaning slightly so he could be at your face level, analyzing every small expression of pleasure he saw in you. Your cheeks are flushed, your pupils are dilated, and your lips are red from biting them so much.

Steven was too lost in his own thoughts to object anything, the truth is that he was enjoying this new angle he had to see his cock splitting you and making you whimper more than he would like.

“Tell them how good I'm making you feel, honey.” He cooed, his fingers giving your hair a harder tug to force you to keep your head up. “Remind them who was the first to break that tight little pussy.”

You stifled a moan, making your bottom lip bleed with a bite.

“Tell them.” He growled, his fingers squeezing your hips so hard you feared your body was going to give up at any moment.

“I-It was you, Marc.” You whimpered in pleasure as his thrusts pushed your body forward, you were already on your tiptoes so as not to end up with your entire body against the furniture.

“Repeat it, I want them to listen to you.” His entire length remained still inside you, brushing against that spot that made you lose your mind. "Louder."

Your parted lips took in deep gasps of air and you had to swallow hard to recover your voice by moistening your throat a little.

“It’s you M-Marc.” He didn't give your hair a break, he was pulling with his fingers so hard that it was starting to hurt. “Fuck, Marc! A-Ah, fuck. It’s you, it’s you, only you.”

Bold of you to assume that Jake wouldn't have that in mind the next time he had his turn with you.

“Fuck her harder.” Marc looked at the mirror when the opposing voice caught his attention. “Come on, she can take it.” A mocking smile appeared on his lips, only irritating Marc even more.

Still, he obeyed.

You could hear the slapping between your bodies every time he thrusted into you. Your legs were threatening to stop supporting your body weight as they began to shake, your entire body feeling small spasms as you got closer and closer to the end.

“Marc?” Steven's soft voice caught the attention of the other two. His pupils were dilated and there was an adorable blush on hid cheeks. "Touch her."

Marc grunted when he realized that this wasn't the punishment he'd originally thought, but who was he to say no to Steven? The hand that was holding your hip slowly slid between your legs, separating your pussy lips with his fingers and then pressing his thumb against your sensitive clit.

He immediately felt your little hole tighten around him.

“Circles.”

“I know how to touch her, Steven.” He growled in your ear, only reminding you of the pair who were probably enjoying the show. The pleasure you were experiencing was too much to rescue the few grams of shame you might have somewhere on your body.

Your nails scratched the wood of the furniture in front of you.

“Cum all over me, honey.” He managed to whisper between moans. Two more thrusts of his body snatching the air from your lungs. “I bet they’ll like it.”

And that was enough for the wave of pleasure to make your body tingle from head to toe, your walls milking Marc until he followed you immediately after, filling you with his warm, thick liquid, which he pushed deeper inside you with a couple more strokes.

For a few seconds the only thing you heard along with the ringing in your ears was Marc's heavy breathing. After a moment his fingers gripped your hips, drawing your attention.

He gave you one more thrust and you squealed, sensitive, overstimulated.

“Marc.” You complained, looking up at the mirror in front of you once more as you tried to catch your breath.

On the other side, Jake's smile greeted you, almost playful.

“Let's see which name you can shout the loudest, princesa.”

Tag list. @ninebluehearts @shousha133 @unear7hly @onefinnedwonder-fm @automnepoet @lokisremainingsanity @uncle-eggy @just-a-nightdreamer @spktrgantenk @chinglewingledingledong @queerponcho @faretheeoscar @spideyman-peter

Remember to comment if you want to be on the kinktober tag list!! <3

1K notes · View notes

roosterforme · 1 year

Text

Two to Tango Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley isn't afraid of a little competition between the Naval aviators and Air Force pilots. And when you prove to be as good as you claimed, he refuses to back down.

Warnings: Adult banter, swearing

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This fic was written for a request! Thanks for reading! And please check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun.

"This is the worst fucking week of the whole goddamn year," Bradley muttered to Phoenix, Hangman, and Coyote as they stood on the blazing hot tarmac in southern Nevada.

"Seven days of training with these assholes," Phoenix added, lowering her sunglasses to the tip of her nose and glaring at the four US Air Force pilots standing a few feet away.

"I love how Maverick told us we were lucky to be the four who were chosen, when honestly nobody wants to be here," Coyote complained, wiping his brow with the sleeve of his flight suit.

"Let's torch these losers and get back to San Diego," Hangman said with a devilish grin.

"Doubt any of them can even fly well enough to compete," Bradley said, eyeing up the pilot who just spun around to face him.

"Excuse me?" you said, strolling confidently toward him with your chin in the air. "What did you just say?"

Bradley smirked. He didn't care if you were going to call him out; he and the other Naval aviators were the best, and he could back up his words any day of the week. Plus you were kind of cute, and getting you all flustered could be fun for him.

"We were just discussing your ineptitude. Well, not yours specifically, sweetheart. Just the general incompetence of Air Force aviators in general," Bradley said, and he heard his friends hooting with laughter around him.

He had expected you to blow up at him, but your placid smile was almost more alarming. "It's really cute, sweetheart, how you think you're better because you can land on a boat. When really, nobody gives a fuck about you at all," you stated calmly.

Bradley would never admit that he was the one who was feeling flustered, so he just crossed his arms over his chest and said, "It takes real skill to land on an aircraft carrier. Runways are for amateurs," he said, inching closer to you.

"It's almost cute how stupid you are," you told him. "What's your dumb call sign?"

"Rooster," he told you, and you smirked. "What's yours?"

"Tango. As in you don't want to tango with me, sweetheart. So since you're running your mouth, why don't we make a little wager?" you asked, standing your ground as Bradley and his cohorts laughed at you.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked.

"Two hundred bucks says Air Force ends the week with more points than Navy," you told him, glaring at him over your sunglasses.

Bradley nodded slowly. "Okay, sounds good. But, if I end up with more points than you, you've gotta say something nice about me in front of everyone."

You chuckled. "And if I end up with more points than you, you'll be the one saying something oh so flattering about me."

Bradley stuck his right hand out and you took it in your smaller one. "Deal. Sweetheart," you told him before turning and stomping away in your boots, back to the other Air Force pilots.

"You've got nothing to worry about," Phoenix said, patting Bradley on the shoulder. "We're gonna smoke them."

--------------------------------------------------

The following morning, Bradley was awake at five and stretching. He'd have a full day of long distance running and obstacle course races ahead of him, and he was determined to take a massive lead in points right off the bat. No way he was going to lose money to a bunch of whiney Air Force pilots who wouldn't be able to cut it at Top Gun.

He was the first one in the cafeteria, and he selected his breakfast very carefully, trying to get the maximum amount of calories he could. When he turned to find a seat, he saw you breeze into the room. Out of your flight suit, you looked hotter than hell, and Bradley almost dropped his tray of food.

"Morning, sweetheart," you crooned, barely glancing at him as you grabbed a bunch of random food. Your athletic pants were skin tight, and your matching shirt left very little to the imagination and showed off an inch of skin all the way around your waist. Your hair was pulled back showing off your neck and upper back, and Bradley was so mad at himself for picking a fight with you. Because now you automatically found him annoying, while he was thinking about how much he'd like to touch you.

You turned away from the food, leaving him in the dust while he stared at your ass. Now he was distracted. A distraction would be very bad. Especially when his reputation was on the line. "Fuck," he muttered.

He went to sit down at the table where you were already eating alone. "That seat's taken," you told him when he pulled out a chair. When he reached for the one next to it, you told him, "That one is, too."

"Let me guess," he rasped, setting his tray down anyway. "They're all taken."

You smiled at him while you licked your lips. "You're not as dumb as you look."

Bradley just smirked and sat down directly across from you. "And you're not as sweet and friendly as you look," he said before shoving half of a breakfast sandwich into his mouth and chewing it up.

"You think I look sweet?" you asked, leaned a little closer to him across the table.

Bradley let his eyes dip down to your mouth and then your neck before sweeping back to your eyes. "I didn't mean it as a compliment."

Your smile never wavered. "That's fine, because I lied to you."

"About what?" he asked, eyes narrowed.

"You are as dumb as you look," you told him, nodding at someone behind him. "The seats really are taken."

Bradley turned to see your Air Force teammates looking at him like he'd lost his mind. "You're sitting with us? You know this is a competition, right?" one of them asked.

"This asshole bothering you, Tango?" asked the biggest guy, and Bradley turned back to look at you, your face shining with mirth.

"Nah, Killer," you replied, looking right at Bradley. "He's just a dumb pussycat. Couldn't hurt a fly."

Bradley desperately wanted to keep teasing you, but not with company around. "Should I go then?" Bradley asked as he started to stand.

"No, why don't you stay and get to know the guys. They aren't as sweet and friendly as I am, sweetheart," you told him, walking away without a backward glance.

And then Bradley had to endure the most uncomfortable breakfast of his life.

----------------------------

Bradley was two miles into the ten mile run, and he was feeling great. He was keeping pace with Hangman, saving as much energy as he could for the last mile. He ran side by side with Jake, neither of them talking. The sun was intense, and he had already soaked through his compression shorts and his US NAVY TOP GUN tee shirt. But he was determined to win.

At mile six, you came out of nowhere and caught up with Bradley and Jake.

"Hey, boys," you said casually. You barely sounded winded at all, and instead of pouring sweat, you looked as good as you had at breakfast. "You guys look a little warm," you said, taking in Bradley's sweaty form from head to toe. "See you at the finish."

Then you tore off ahead of them. Bradley was impressed and once again distracted by your ass. He tried his best to keep up, but it seemed like you kept gaining on him.

"Damn. She's fast," Jake huffed next to him, and Bradley just grunted. "How much money did you bet?"

"Shit," Bradley gasped, trying to pick up the pace.

-----------------------------

You had been waiting for him at the finish line, cheering him on by chanting "Rooster!" very loudly and looking like you'd barely broken a sweat. Meanwhile, Bradley had a horrible stitch in his side and was doubled over. He wasn't sure how he was going to manage doing the obstacle course after this, let alone try to beat you at it.

"You okay, old man?" you asked, crouching down next to him and smirking.

Bradley turned to look at you. "How old do you think I am?"

"Too old to beat me," you replied, shoving a water bottle in his face. "Drink up. It will be more fun for me to destroy you in the obstacle course if you're properly hydrated."

Then you walked away, and Bradley had to admit he kind of liked your smart mouth.

Once the points were tallied after the ten mile run, the Air Force team was leading by a small margin. Bradley was angry as he confronted his teammates. "Okay, who dropped the ball?" he asked, eyeing Coyote with one eyebrow raised.

"I'm not a runner! I'll destroy them on the obstacle course," Coyote promised, and Bradley knew he would.

Bradley also knew he was exhausted while you looked like you were ready to tear up every obstacle in your way. "Yeah, Tango," the guys on your team all said, giving you high fives.

It was one thing to be the best on the ground, but being the best in the air was where Bradley would shine. So he would try to get a good time on the course and then focus on the rest of the week.

Everyone groaned when they got to the course after lunch. It looked like a mud pit that was now baking in the sun, and Bradley thought he would rather run another ten miles than have to do this shit.

"Let's work as a team to start," Phoenix told the guys. "I am going to need help getting over the second and third walls quickly." So they came up with a game plan to boost Nat over the walls since she was much shorter than they were. Then she would have no trouble crawling under the ropes that came next. Each of them had their strengths, and they would stick together when they could.

Both teams lined up, and when the whistle was blown, they were off. Bradley watched out of the corner of his eye to see that the Air Force team went with the same game plan. They were boosting you over the wall at the same time Bradley was practically throwing Phoenix over. Then he used all of his upper body strength to pull himself up and over. The next few walls were taller, and Coyote had to have Phoenix practically stand on his shoulders so the guys could use her body to pull themselves up.

"Fuck!" Phoenix yelled. "You weigh a shit ton, Bradley!"

"I'm sorry," he gasped, pulling her over the wall with him once he had reached the top. Then he reached down to give Hangman a hand to grab.

Navy was pulling ahead of Air Force, but Bradley was determined to keep the lead. Now everyone was starting to work more independently, and he could see that you were ahead of him going through the tires. Bradley forced himself to move, shoving his larger form under the ropes and diving into the mud when necessary.

Coyote, Phoenix and Hangman were all close behind him, and he tried to encourage them along. But when it came to the mile run back to the starting line, Bradley went full force. He was gaining on you now, each of his strides counting for two of yours. Pumping his arms and gasping for air as his chest and throat burned, he caught up to you just as you crossed the line.

"A tie!" the officer with the stopwatch said. "And the best course time this year!"

Bradley watched you walk in a circle before you bent in half with your hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath. Much less gracefully, he plopped down into more mud and rolled onto his back, baking in the sun and sucking in air.

When he opened his eyes a few seconds later, you were making your way toward him with your hand outstretched. Bradley gave you a high five and let you help him to his feet.

"Impressive, old man," you told him. Bradley rolled his eyes as he stood, massaging the stitch in his side.

"Yeah, well..." he started, just as he saw his teammates in the distance. "Age comes with experience."

You narrowed your eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Bradley just shrugged as he looked at you. "I'm just saying, it must be nice to win races because of age and stamina, but that has nothing to do with your flying."

Your eyes went wide and you took a step closer to him. "Listen up, sweetheart. I've worked my ass off to be the best. And you don't know anything about me or my experience. So why don't you stay in your own lane and watch me destroy you and everybody else." You were practically touching him now, seemingly just seething in your anger.

Bradley's heart was pounding. You were covered in mud and yelling at him. And embarrassingly enough, he was kind of turned on. He didn't even mind you calling him old man. But now he felt a little bad about what he had said.

"Listen, I-"

But he was cut off by you planting your hand on his chest and pushing yourself away as your teammates and his all crossed the finish line in a large group. You raised your middle finger up behind your back and aimed it at him when you walked away.

"Shit," Bradley muttered. He hadn't meant to piss you off even more. Honestly, he liked you. You were smart and quick witted. Cute too.

He was going to have to apologize when he had you alone again. Hopefully letting you call him old man for the rest of the week would help smooth over what he'd said.

"We just barely beat their combined time," Coyote said, panting to catch his breath.

Hangman was walking in circles chugging water while Phoenix patted Bradley on the shoulder. "I'm never letting you use me as a human rope again. That was painful," she said.

"I'm sorry, but at least we won this round," he told her. "We'll get up in the air tomorrow and kick their asses."

As everyone made their way back toward the locker rooms to get cleaned up before dinner, Bradley cut you off in front of the ladies' locker room door.

You planted both hands on your hips and looked up at him. "You lost, sweetheart? Mens' showers are that way." You nodded your head to the side where Coyote was disappearing through the door. You had a streak of dried mud running across your forehead, and your hair was an absolute mess.

"No. Listen, I just wanted to apologize," he said, running his hand through his muddy hair. "I'm sure I came across as a bit of a sore loser when I insinuated that you lack experience in the air. You're right, I don't know anything about it. Sorry."

There was nobody else around as you closed the distance between your bodies and tipped your head up to keep your eyes on his. "Yesterday you called me incompetent. Today you called me inexperienced. What are you planning on calling me tomorrow?" you asked in a controlled voice, but your eyes were angry.

When Bradley didn't respond right away, you let your fingers rest on his abs before flattening your palm there. Slowly you dragged your hand up the front of his mud soaked shirt, teasing the hard planes of his body. Bradley didn't dare move as he watched your eyes which were focused on your own hand. He wanted to kiss you, but chances were you actually hated him and were just trying to get a rise out of him for your own entertainment.

But when your hand traveled over his pecs and up around the scars on his neck, you stroked your thumb softly there. His pulse quickened as his dick throbbed. "Oh, so now you're quiet, old man? Gotta say, I like this version of you much better."

Bradley didn't dare move as you pressed up onto your toes and kissed him hard, pushing your fingers up roughly into his messy hair. He wanted to turn you and push you up against the wall, press his hardening length against you and make you moan.

But as soon as he had his hands on your hips, you pulled out of his grasp and slapped him lightly on the cheek.

"Apology accepted. For now," you said, pointing at him as you turned to walk into the locker room.

Bradley stood there for a moment in shock before he crept quietly into the men's room with a boner.

-----------------------

Thanks for reading this one! It will be four parts total! And thanks for all of your help @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@topgunbb

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@high-bi-imgonnacry

@xoxabs88xox

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine

1K notes · View notes

marlynnofmany · 1 year

Text

Schrödinger’s Poison

Mending the spaceship’s extra cargo net was difficult. Too many strands. I held a couple in my teeth while both hands struggled with the rest, and it wasn't enough. I was considering getting my feet involved (or maybe a crewmate) when I heard excited voices in the hallway.

“Welcome back! Find anything good?”

“Yes! I met someone who wanted the expired heatpacks!”

“What, seriously?”

“You owe me a shrimp stick. Pay up.”

Good-natured grumbling followed. I was pretty sure these were the Frillian twins, who looked like fishy bodybuilders with a fashion sense that always caught me off guard. Either drapey veils and skirts, matching their own flowy fins, or strategically placed stretchy bands. No middle ground. And they were very competitive.

“What did they even want with old heatpacks? You told them they were expired, right?”

“Of course I did! You think I would cheat like that?”

The indignant one was Blip, I was pretty sure, the female of the pair — or the closest thing to female, since their species seemed to handle gender a little differently than humans did. Her brother was Blop.

“Ah, ‘course not,” he admitted. “What are they going to use them for, though?”

“Something about separating the components and putting them to other uses. But look what I got in trade! Human food that’s not expired!”

I looked up at that, mouth still full of cords, but of course the cargo bay door blocked my view. I listened, though.

“What kind is — OH, GET IT AWAY!”

“What? Why?”

I froze, just as curious.

“Do you know how many humans that stuff kills every cycle??”

“What are you talking about?” Blip demanded. “It’s food. It says so right here.”

“Don’t touch me with it! Put it in the containment chamber and get yourself scanned for poison!”

I wove quickly, rushing to finish so I didn’t lose my place; we needed all the nets, and we hadn’t been able to get a new one at the space station; this was important; but Oh man, what do they have out there?

“Humans are omnivores who eat anything! How is this deadly?” Blip was demanding when a new voice arrived.

“What’s the shouting?” asked Paint, her usual cheer dampened by worry. I could just picture her with hands clasped anxiously and her scaly tail held stiff: the very picture of lizardlike concern.

“That’s poison!”

“It’s food!”

“Poisonous food!”

Any hope I had of Paint calming things down was dashed when she asked for a closer look, then slammed into the cargo bay door in her panic to jump back. “I’ve heard of that! It killed an ambassador!”

“See? I told you—”

“We need to get you both scanned, and maybe me too,” Paint said, hyperventilating already. “Maybe the whole ship! Is it airborne? CAPTAIN! CAPTAAAIN!”

I threw the net to the floor and lunged for the door button. It banged open and startled Paint even more; she spun from where she’d been about to dash off in a streak of orange scales.

“What is it?” I demanded, making the pair of Frillians back up a step. I probably looked like some unhinged demon, slamming out of the bay like that. They were both wearing veritable clouds of neon green silks, so the surprise was at least a little bit mutual.

Blip held a jar over her shoulder, clearly torn between showing me the label and keeping it at a safe distance. I squinted, expecting alcohol or some unregulated drug.

Spaceman Spiff’s Chunky Peanut Butter, said the label.

I stared for a long moment, while everyone was silent. Then I’m afraid I startled them all by bursting into laughter.

“It’s not poisonous!” I managed to say.

“But it killed an ambassador!” Paint objected. “I read the report!”

“I am sorry to hear that,” I said, leaning against the wall for support. “The ambassador was allergic to peanuts.”

It took a bit of explaining, and I had to go over it all again when Captain Sunlight came running up, but I did get things settled.

“I can’t believe there are humans allergic to food,” Blip said. “I’ve heard of overreactions to mild toxins and venoms, but really, food? From your own planet?”

“Yup,” I said, putting out a hand for the peanut butter. “Not me, though. I like peanuts.” The jar was a hefty one, manufactured for long voyages. “We can still scan it to run through the medical systems, just in case one of you guys might react badly to it. But it’s not officially toxic.”

“Well, that is good to hear,” said Captain Sunlight, standing as tall as her little lizardy frame allowed. “How about you do that now, and anyone who came in contact with it goes along?”

Blip and Blop agreed immediately, not needing Paint’s waving hands to usher us down the hall.

I looked over my shoulder at Paint as I walked. “Once we get everybody checked out, you should try some. It’s good on toast.”

“Toasted what?” Paint asked, still shooing away.

“Bread.”

“Oh no,” she said. “I heard about that ‘pizza’ you talked people into eating on Kamm’s ship!”

“Some of them liked it!” I objected.

“Not Bopburt.”

“No, not Bopburt,” I admitted. “But this is totally different. Thanks for getting it, Blip!” I turned to wave the jar at the Frillian in the lead.

“My pleasure,” she said, and it almost sounded like she meant it.

“Want to try some once it’s safe?”

“No, I do not.”

“Your loss.”

~~~

The ongoing adventures of backstory for this book! More to come.

742 notes · View notes

plussizefantasia · 7 months

Text

Rockets Run

Flufftober Day 2: Meet Cute

Steve Harrington x f!reader

Word Count: 1.3k

AN: This really got away from me and from the prompt but I really like how it turned out. Please reblog if you liked the story and I'll see you tomorrow for day 3!

divider credit: @royallaesthetics

There weren’t a whole lot of diners that were open 24 hours in Hawkins Indiana. Especially after Benny’s closed three years ago. Rocket’s wasn’t a very good diner, it was on the verge of bankruptcy before its only competition closed and it became the only place in the small town with a decent cheap burger. But it was the only option you had if you didn’t want to drive twenty minutes into the next town over. This meant that when the occasional cravings for a midnight milkshake struck you were left with only one option. And so was everyone else who wanted food after 9 p.m.

Steve didn’t understand why he was always the one who had to go get food for the party when they all hung out and started getting hangry around 11. Now that the kids were a bit older their parents were a little more lenient with curfew, especially on the weekend. This is why he’s at Rockets alone on a Friday night on the verge of becoming a Saturday morning waiting for his order of enough food to feed a small army.

You on the other hand had just finished an almost twelve-hour shift where the rumbling in your stomach made itself more known the longer the night had gone on. Finally when your coworker heard the actual monstrous sounds that your body was making she took pity on you and told you to take the rest of the night, and implored you to get some food before your stomach started to eat itself. You laughed it off, thanked her, and hopped in your car to take her advice. A milkshake really sounded good right now.

Walking into Rocket’s during the midnight hours was almost like entering another dimension, at least you think it is you’ve never actually been in one. The lights were bright, and in contrast to the darkness waiting just outside the windows, it was almost startling. The booths and tables that filled the dining space were always almost empty, the occasional groups of teenagers or semi-drunk adults may be scattered among the seats. Tonight there was only one other customer in the space. A young man, about your age with the fluffiest hair you think you’ve ever seen. He leans against the booth closest to the counter, not sitting but not exactly standing. He seems to be waiting for his order, you briefly wonder how long he’s been here.

“What can I get you?” A woman in a shockingly old-fashioned diner girl dress asks you. She’s older than you but just barely, and by the look on her face, she obviously doesn’t want to be here this late.

“Um, an order of fries and a chocolate milkshake to go please.” You respond, not having to look at the menu to know what you’d like this evening.

“Sure thing, it’ll be just a moment,” She replies dryly before turning away from you and disappearing through the swinging doors you assume must lead to the kitchen.

During the exchange between you and the waitress who seemingly hates her job, the young man in the diner shifts his body to look at you. There's a certain glint in his eyes and you can only guess at the thoughts that are spinning within them.

Steve doesn’t think he would mind picking up the food as much if there was always a pretty girl at Rockets when he did. You caught his attention when you walked through the door, the bell rang and caught his attention first but the chime was quickly forgotten when his eyes landed on you. It’s not a secret that Steve likes women, he likes all kinds of women and he isn’t afraid of the world knowing that but he is kind of surprised that you managed to really capture his attention when you look so... tired.

You obviously just came from work if your uniform and name tag are anything to go by, and the darkness that meets the top of your cheeks from under your eyes catches the light in a very obvious way. But there is a certain beauty to you that he just can’t ignore. You just look so soft and so adorable shuffling your feet into the late-night diner and right up towards the counter. He can’t help but think that seeing you might just be the best part of his week.

You’re eyes catch the stranger’s and you lift an eyebrow in an almost challenging way. You know that you must look haggard, you’re dead on your feet and not doing a damn thing to convince anyone otherwise. He on the other hand looks pretty put together. He’s wearing a soft-looking yellow sweater and a pair of Levis that just seem to go together. His hair is messy in that trendy way and his eyes sparkle under the fluorescent lights.

Your moment of observation ends when the waitress from before calls out for “Steve”. The stranger perks up and pushes himself up from his semi-reclined position. He makes his way towards the counter where he is then given four large bags worth of food. As each bag gets past into his hands your eyes grow a little wider and when he has a good grip on all of them you finally let out a soft chuckle at the way he becomes lost amongst the sea of to-go boxes.

“Hungry?” You ask.

“Actually, it’s Steve” he replies not missing a beat. He’s smooth and funny and if you weren't as tired you most definitely would’ve let out a laugh. However, any points he might’ve earned in your book are immediately revoked when he almost drops one of the bags he’s holding. It’s embarrassing, in a really endearing way.

“You need help?” You offer, and he smiles.

“Sure, if you’re offering.” Without another word you grab the bag he’s struggling with and motion for him to lead the way. He pushes the diner doors open and makes his way towards the nicest car in the lot. He uses his one free finger to pry open the door to the back door and places the bags on the seats. You offer him the one in your hands and he adds that one to the pile.

“Thanks,” Steve says, and you can’t help but mirror the smile he has. You don’t respond but give him a single nod and turn back towards the diner doors. You can see your order sitting on the counter, the waitress must’ve called your name while you were out here.

You look back at the handsome stranger as you reach the doors. You can see him look at you through his mirrors as well. You lift your hand in a small wave and he smiles once more as he speeds out of the parking lot and down the street into the night.

When Steve gets back to his house, arms full of bags and a smile he can’t seem to shake, he pushes open the doors and is immediately met with a handful of gangly teens each grabbing at the bags in his arms. He lets them take them and makes his way towards the living room where the other adults closer to his age lay sprawling across the couch.

“You don’t look nearly as grumpy as you normally do after a Rocket’s run,” Robin observes.

“I think I found a good reason to not mind as much” He replies not giving too much away about his encounter with the beautiful young woman who helped him with the food. Not knowing that you were sitting alone in your room across town, thinking something very similar to yourself. Maybe you’ll have to make late-night Rocket’s runs more often. You want to see the pretty stranger named Steve one more time, after all. You never told him your name.

#plus size reader #plus size!reader #fluff #fanfic #x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #flufftober #fictober23 #steve harrington x plus size reader #steve harrington x plussize!reader

84 notes · View notes

landojpg04 · 4 months

Text

Revenge on the Ranch II//G.Tillman

Index

Go read part one if you haven't already!

Synopsis: Rumor and Gator reunite.

Warnings: R*y Tillman, slight mention of how R*y treats his wives, language.

I woke up to the sound of pans clinging. I rolled over to see eleven am on the clock. I haven't slept in this late since my freshman year of college. My body feels rested. I feel rested. I walk into the bathroom to at least get ready if I’m making my appearance late.

But as soon as I was done, I walked downstairs. Momma and Dad were making their famous BLT sandwiches.

“Oh, look who decided to join us today,” Pops says as he sees me.

“Told you she needed to get food in her. We practically put her into a coma last night.” Momma said. I just chuckled at her antics. I looked around, seeing that it was eerily calm.

“Where's the boys?” I said.

“Rhett is already doing his prep for tonight. Jane and Robert went to her doctor's appointment and took Rylee with them,” Momma said. I nodded as Pops handed me a plate of food.

“I bet the city doesn't have good BLTs like these.” He said, I took a bite and was sent to heaven. The city doesn’t have a lot.

I spent a few hours just sitting with my parents. There was not much talking; they were just taking in one another.

Jane and Robert came back with Rylee. Momma is making Rylee, and I eat a plate of fruit and vegetables.

It wasn't until two hours later that I noticed Momma getting visibly worried. She’s always like this when Rhett has a competition. She begins to pray, sweat, and at times send herself into an anxiety attack. Robert jokes that the entire process is Rhett’s good luck charm. If Momma isn't visibly upset, he won’t win.

Rylee wanted to get ready with me, which I could not deny. I helped her pick out an outfit. Braided her hair and added bows.

“Sometimes she is a spitting image of you,” Jane says at the doorway.

“Begging to dress up, always speaking what's on her mind, and not afraid to get her hands dirty.”

“Runs in the blood,” I say, smiling as Rylee tries to get her boots on.

“Rylee, go help grandma and grandpa with the car.”

Jane closes the door as Rylee runs downstairs.

“Your turn,” Jane says, walking up to me. She sits me down at the vanity and plugs in the curling iron. One thing Jane loves doing is hair, so this is like therapy for both of us. I talked to her about everything. Missing home, especially missing Gator. She tells me he comes by often to check in with my parents, her, and Robert.

Gator would never verbally say he felt more at home under the Abbott roof. With the past of Linda, Nadine, and now Karen, Reese was the only mother figure who was a constant in his life. He saw how his father treated his wives and vowed to Reese that he would never do that, even if he didn't marry me.

Jane and I continue to talk; I tell her about work and some of the cases I’ve helped on. I also complain about Vincent from the coffee shop.

She jokes, “Gator would kill him if you asked.” But deep down, I know Gator would do anything if I said I was uncomfortable with someone.

Jane finished up my hair and helped with my outfit, and we were on our way to the grounds.

٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭

“You’re never round here anymore, Rumor,” Peter said to me. He was in the competition and grabbed me as I was looking for Gator.

“Yeah, well, I did move the day after graduation.” I was annoyed with Peter’s antics.

“Well, is there anything that could make you move back? Maybe someone?” He said, moving closer to me; I noticed he was trying to move his hat to fit onto my head sneakily. I begin to laugh at his foolish antics.

“You put that hat on her, Collins I swear I will break every single bone in that arm of yours.”

Right on time.

I turn around to see the carrier of that voice. Still in full uniform, standing well over six feet. He has one hand on his belt while the other holds the top of his vest as he stalks over. Peter audibly gulps, standing in front of me.

“Move. Your pony ride is coming up.” He growls out as he is now standing next to me. Peter nods and frantically turns to walk away.

“What the hell am I gonna do with you? Not even a full twenty-four hours back home, and these assholes are already on the prowl for you,” I just shrug at his comment. I turn my body towards him. I wanted to take him in.

His hair is slicked back, but I can tell it's longer. He smells like cologne and nicotine. I know he didn't grow, but with his work boots on, I feel as if I’m straining my neck a bit more to meet his eyes. He looks good. He notices me taking him in; he grows red in the cheeks and lets a small smile pass through.

“You look good,” I say.

“I look good because I knew my girl was back in town. Should've seen me yesterday; I was a mess.”

It was his turn to take me in. His eyes travel down and back up.

“Your hair got longer since I last saw you.”

He grabs my arm. I can feel what he is gonna say next.

“Did your Reese yell at you for not eating enough down there?”

“She's been feeding me as much as Rylee the entire day.”

He laughs. “You look good, Rue, “ he begins to move closer; I close my eyes and feel him ghost over my lips “You look good.”

He finally pressed his lips onto mine. His lips were cold; they’d always been cold. I wrapped my arms around his neck to pull him in closer.

Fuck did I miss this.

He grabbed the loops of my jeans to pull me closer than I was before. I gasped at the maneuver and Gator took this to slide his tongue into my mouth. I could tell he was hungry through the way he kissed me. I can't blame him, though.

For once in what felt like a lifetime, the world was quiet. There were no fears circulating in my mind.

“Jesus, would you two knock it off! She didn't go off to war Gator!”

And there it was, the one thing I wish would blow away in the breeze. Roy Tillman. Gator and I broke away from each other. I looked towards the voice. God, did he look worse with age.

“Nice to see you too, Roy,” I said.

Roy never liked me from the moment I was born. Said I was a mistake my mother made. My father and he were good friends, almost like brothers growing up, but now the bond was too big to break. My father never shared the same values as Roy, but he knows that the thoughts and ideas Roy thinks are just a representation of generational trauma.

Growing up, Roy always tried to tell my parents that my mouth was gonna get me in trouble. He hated that I was outspoken, especially towards men.

One day, he talked about how he respected the army, navy, and peace officers, especially Federal Bureau of Investigation agents. I then spoke about how I also wanted to work for the FBI. Roy laughed at me for over an hour straight. The next day he woke up with all of his tires slashed. Still today they are looking for that culprit.

“Heard you’re back for a few weeks. Quantico, realize you don’t fit the job description anymore?”

“Dad, come on, leave her–” Gator began to but in, but I never miss a chance to tell Roy to fuck off.

“No, Roy, they sent me up here. Said to start an investigation about a crooked Sherrif in a small town.” I said with a stern face. Roy went white for a minute, like the statement I was saying had truth behind it, but then he realized I was just doing his favorite thing, running my mouth.

He laughed and then grabbed a cigarette from his pocket, lighting up.

“You think you're funny, Rumor. You think you're funny.” He said, sauntering off towards the bleachers.

Gator let out a laugh the second Roy was far enough to where he couldn't hear.

“I don’t think he’ll show up to our wedding.”

“I think he’ll put me on America’s most wanted the day he finds out you're not a virgin,” I said, backfiring at his comment.

Gator just wrapped me in his arms, placing his lips on my head.

“How long do I have you for?”

“Rhett or Robbie are gonna drive me back next Thursday.”

“I can drive you back,” Gator said. I just nodded into his chest, not wanting to break our contact. Gator was my security blanket up here.

“I miss you, G,” I said into his chest.

I felt him squeeze me even tighter in his grasp.

“You have no idea, Rue,” He said. I looked up to meet his eyes again. I could stare at him for hours. He had soft eyes that went dark, but right now, they were gleaming. He leaned in once again, meeting my lips—a short and sweet kiss.

“Come on, let's go watch Rhett,” I said, unraveling myself from his embrace, but Gator didn't let me stray too far as he placed one of his hands in my pocket, something he had been doing since we got together.

٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭

Author's note: Hope you guys enjoy the reunion, next part will be a bit steamy 😉

Lmk if yu guys enjoy or want to see anything in this series!!

#gator tillman #gator tillman x reader #joe keery #gator tillman fanfic #rhett abbott #outer range #gator fargo #fargo #fargo fx #fargo s5 #fargo season 5

24 notes · View notes

ushioliddell-blog · 4 months

Text

Max and Aypierre : What they had in common, part II

And....I find things to had. So let's get to thé point.

Their issues :

They are not exactly the same but they complete each other REALLY well (for angst and drama ).

Abandonment issues for Aypierre. Obviously because of Ayrobot's story (left behind by his creator ) and because of how he took people who betrayed him when he is a Ride or Die type of person.

For Max.....Loss issue. Because of Dan's and Trumpet's death. Which led him to think that he has no right to be loved (even if he really want to ) AND how guilty he feels for the death of his son.

They complete each other ? One is afraid of being left, the other is afraid to loose someone. As we say in France, "CQFD".

And for that they BOTH do the same thing. Not letting people get too close of their heart. Max didn't at first (he wanted SO badly that someone come too close ) but with his leg....He closed his heart. Because no distraction, and maybe for protecting himself to loose someone again in conséquences of his doings. And protect the others too. He was thinking that their happiness HERE was FAKE and made by the Federation too, so no need to get attached to something they can easily take. For Aypierre, not talking clearly about what he feels, have a lot and a lot of one nights stands. His issues got better but when Max was away, his fear of being left came back and the way to deal with it was.....looking at the sky, hoping Max saw him, believing that he was in space, just like Roier told him. He probably knew it was FAKE but it was the only hope he has, so he clings to it. He builds the castle and begin to do again jokes as a way to hide his loneliness but NEVER wanted to cheat on Max too. Proof ? How he RUNS leaving everything behind at the Roier's hospital when someone told him he was and the feeling of how he miss him he confessed when people confront him about his jokes.

Their trust :

They are BOTH Ride or Die person. They would do everything they can for people they trust. Even deals with their enemy (Cucurucho for the Super Computer that Forever wanted ).

But betray them and.........They stay attached. Yes, Foolish betrayed him, but Max never really truly hate him. Yes, Max hurt him but if he wants to stay friends, and maybe more, then, let's go. Yes, Aypierre cut him, but he is going to die so no hate in the afterlife and if it helps him to get over....

They CAN'T hold a real grudge against people they loved. Too nice, BOTH of them.

They will protect themselve of an another betrayal, but they never really CUT the cord.

Their jokes :

It was often a competition between them such as "Who will embarrass the other the most" and at this...... They BOTH succeed. And for this, they must have a similar sense of jokes. Most of the time, one lead the other further more, etc etc... Aypierre was the cringiest because that's what he loves thé most, but Max was really good at keeping up and probably the only one who can.

And..... That's all for today. If I have another points I will add them, again.

#q!aypierre #q!maximus #furryduo

22 notes · View notes

comfortjoonie · 8 months

Text

Snowed In -- PART ONE

sooo excited to share this with you guys! this is part one of my collaboration with the incredibly talented @crystalsnow95z ! Please go check out her page too if you like this, her works are amazing!

Anyways, I'm really sorry for the delay, I've been super busy, but I hope you guys enjoy. This one is really long!

TW: Vomit, fever, sickness

~~~~~

"Woah, too fast! Too fast!" Taehyung squeals, holding onto Jungkook tighter afraid to go flying off the sled.

Jungkook is having the time of his life, giggling. "It's okay Hyungie."

Jimin flies past them. "Looks like I'll win!" He sings the words, teasing the others.

"No you won't!" Jungkook tries leaning forward to try to go faster, his competitive nature shining through.

Namjoon runs a hand through his hair, wishing he’d brought a hat. It’s freezing and he was forced to sit here and watch all his members sled down a hill with no end in sight. He wished he just stayed behind, but he didn't want to make the others suspicious and ruin the trip. How are they not freezing? It's only 10 degrees out. He takes a deep breath as his stomach cramps and watches as Yoongi and Seokjin come up the hill.

“You ok, Joon?” Seokjin asks.

“I’m cold, hyung,” Namjoon says, taking an opportunity to go home as the snow starts coming down harder. “Can we go back?"

“...” Seokjin looks at Yoongi.

“You look sick,” Yoongi says. “Did you eat anything today?”

Namjoon pauses. The answer is no. But he doesn’t want to stress anyone out if they find out he’s not feeling well.

“Of course, hyung. On the plane, when you guys were asleep.” Yoongi looks suspicious.

“What’d you eat?”

“A bagel. Can we please go back? It’s freezing.” Namjoon watches the other members come up the hill holding their sleds.

Yoongi looks at the sky. “It is snowing pretty hard. Maybe we should head back to the cabin?”

Seokjin shrugs. “That’s fine with me. The wind seems to be picking up, too.” Namjoon sighs in relief. He was starting to feel really nauseous, and the cold wasn’t helping. “I’ll go tell the others.”

—-

The cabin isn’t as peaceful as Namjoon had hoped. In his and Jimin’s shared bedroom, there’s peace, but he can still hear the chatter in the living room and kitchen. It smells like hot chocolate, which would usually be a great thing, but it’s making him want to throw up now.

His stomach clenched when he heard the door open, Jimin bringing a cup of cocoa into the room. "Hyung, I brought you some cocoa. I wish you would've told me sooner how cold you were.."

"I didn't want to ruin your fun." Namjoon forces himself not to react when Jimin shoves the cup into his hands.

"It'll help you warm up." Jimin smiles warmly.

"Thanks Jiminie…" Cocoa was the last thing he wanted. Namjoon takes a sip, instantly regretting it, his stomach nearly pushed to it's limit, the cramps getting worse. "I was going to take a nap.. I'm still feeling jet lagged from the trip." It took all the strength he had to keep his voice steady.

"Oh, alright then.. I'll let you sleep then. Rest well hyungie." Jimin eyes Namjoon, wondering if he was really okay. He didn't want to bother him though. Not if he wasn't feeling well. As soon as Jimin leaves the room and he hears his footsteps get farther away, he rushes to the bathroom connected to the room, dropping to his knees in front of the toilet, gripping it tightly. He couldn’t bother to shut the door in his rush. He breathes for a moment before he starts vomiting. He can hear some faint yelling over his gagging, but can’t decipher what anyone is saying until a voice gets closer and he hears footsteps coming towards him. He smells Taehyung’s cologne, and it makes him more nauseous. He subconsciously pushes the younger away, but he’s too weak to move him anywhere. Taehyung’s hands go to his back and hair, holding his bangs back and patting him comfortingly. He hears another pair of footsteps come in the room. Seokjin, who joins Taehyung on the floor next to their leader. Namjoon finishes and flushes the toilet, exhausted.

“What happened, hyung?” Taehyung asks. “How long have you been feeling sick?”

“A few hours…” Namjoon wipes the sweat off his forehead and accepts the cup of water Seokjin hands him, taking a sip. It makes his stomach cramp instantly as soon as he swallows.

“You should get some rest.” Seokjin holds out his hand to help Namjoon up, but Namjoon's stomach has other plans, already gagging out the water he just swallowed.

"Are you gonna be sick again?" Seojin asked with a worried expression. Namjoon shakes his head. I don't have the energy..

Seokin trusts his word, helping the youngest rapper to bed with Taehyung's help.

"I wish you told us before we went out.." Taehyung frowns as he watches Seojin strips off Namjoon's sweat soaked shirt.

"I didn't want to ruin everyone's day.." Namjoon says softly, shivering despite his rising fever. "It's cold hyung…"

"I know, I'll get you changed okay?" Seojin quickly goes into Namjoon's suitcase looking for something breathable to put him in.

Taehyung cuddles against Namjoon in the meantime to try to ease the chills, smoothing down his sweat soaked hair. "Hyungie you should know you're more important than some silly snow day."

Taehyung please.. I don't want to cuddle you right now.. Namjoon covers his face, stomach churning at the scent of Taehyung’s shirt.

Taehyung takes the hint, moving away from him, trying to hide his hurt expression. "I'm sorry Hyung.."

"Namjoon-ah just doesn't feel well right now, don't take it personally Tae.." Seojin gently redresses Namjoon, covering him up with just the top sheet.

"Is Namjoonie hyung okay?" The soft voice of Jimin is heard in the doorway, Jungkook peering over him.

"He'll be fine, don't come in, and take Taehyungie with you."

"I just wanted to help Hyung.." Taehyung says looking down at his hands. But Namjoon doesn't even want me near him..

"You can help. Why don't you see if you can find any medicine?" Seokjin gives him a task to try to ease Namjoon's rejection.

"Alright."

The three youngest leave together, the room getting quiet again. "Try to get some sleep for now.." Seokjin traces small circles across Namjoon’s stomach.

"I don't know if I can..it hurts.." Namjoon groans softly as his stomach gurgles again.

"Just try for me okay?" Seokjin runs his fingers to Namjoon's hair. "What if I sing for you?"

"What..? I'm not a child.." Namjoon considered it for a split second before feeling embarrassed.

"I know.. but it might help you sleep."

Namjoon wondered if Seokjin was lying to make him more open to the idea or if it was true, but before he could ask Seokjin started singing softly to him, gently drawing shapes on his bloated middle the youngest rapper falling into a restless sleep.

"Hyungie I can't find any tummy medicine but I found pain pills for headache.." Jungkook entered the room, freezing in place when he sees Namjoon's eyes flutter open.

"Shh Jungkook.." Seokjin narrows his eyes, stroking Namjoon's back softly to try to get him back to sleep, but it was too late.

"Sh*t.. I'm sorry Hyungie.." Jungkook bows, guilt gnawing at his belly.

Namjoon groans in pain and Jungkook winces. “Hyung,” he mumbles, looking at Seokjin. “Hurts…” His stomach is killing him. He can’t remember having something like this before. The pain is horrible. Seokjin puts his hand over Namjoon’s stomach and rubs it lightly, but Namjoon pulls it away. “Ahh…” he grimaces, frowning when he sees Jungkook. “Jungkook-ah…” he mumbles before another cramp hits him, twisting his stomach and making him moan in pain again.

“I brought some headache medicine. Does your head feel ok?” Jungkook asks cautiously. Namjoon blows out a breath slowly, controlled.

“It hurts,” he says softly. It’s not a terrible headache, but the pain in his stomach might get better with painkillers.

Jungkook approaches the bed and hands Namjoon two red pills, which he puts in his mouth and takes the glass of water from the bedside table and drinks it. He instantly regrets it, feeling nausea rise up his throat. He’s freezing cold again, which doesn’t help.

“You’re shivering, Joonie,” Seokjin says softly, putting his hand on Namjoon’s forehead. “You’re burning up…”

“I’m freezing,” Namjoon says. “I need more blankets.”

“We can’t do that, Namjoon,” Seokjin says.

“We can give him a hot bath so he can sweat the fever out,” Jungkook suggests.

“Does that work?” Seokjin asks.

“My mom used to do it for me,” Jungkook says. Seokjin sighs.

“I don’t know if I want to risk it. It could just make his fever way higher,” he says.

"We have to try something.. we can take him out if it looks like he's doing worse.."

“Joonie, how does a hot bath sound?” Seokjin asks. Namjoon nods.

“Let’s go,” Seokjin helps Namjoon up and to the bathroom, starting to run the water. Namjoon leans against the wall with his arms across his stomach and eyes shut. His stomach hurts so bad, and the nausea from taking the pills is getting worse. He doesn’t know if this bath will upset his stomach more. He’s too freezing cold to decline it though. He’s shirtless and only wearing his pants and boxers, but he’s sweating like crazy. He sits back and tries not to throw up for the time being until he hears Seokjin turn off the faucet.

“Stand up, Joonie, let’s take off your pants.” Namjoon follows, standing shakily and placing a hand on the wall to hold himself from collapsing. Seokjin gently pulls his pants off, leaving his boxers on. Namjoon always prefers to be modest, even in a situation like this, Seokjin knows he’d rather keep his boxers on. Seokjin guides the younger into the bathtub. Namjoon visibly relaxes at the heat of it, but Seokjin can hear his stomach make an uncomfortable gurgling sound. Namjoon places a hand over it and leans back against the edge of the bathtub. He’s absolutely exhausted. The hot water feels nice on his shivering body, but he’s worried it’ll make his temperature rise. Seokjin cups water in his hand and gently pours it over Namjoon’s hair. Namjoon jolts in surprise, his stomach gurgling audibly again, and his eyes fly open. He looks nauseous again. Seokjin strokes his hair. “You’re okay, Joonie, he says.” Namjoon shakes his head, panicked.

“Hyung–I’m gonna be sick.”

“Just breathe, Joonie,” Seokjin says. “In…out…in…out…” Namjoon follows, relaxing a bit. “Good job. Just relax, I’ll wash your hair.” Namjoon shivers visibly. Seokjin puts a hand to the younger’s forehead. “Sh*t…I knew it. Your fever is getting worse.”

Seokjin washes him up as quickly as possible, but he wasn't fast enough.

Namjoon tried to warn him, his stomach forcing out the water he used to wash down the pills, covering his mouth to keep from getting sick in the water, desperately leaving the water to reach the toilet, soaking the floor in the process.

"Sh*t..Namjoon-ah.." Seokjin wraps a towel around his shoulders, gently trying to dry him off as the pills he just swallowed come back up, splashing into the water.

Namjoon continued to dry heave until more sick comes up, making his abdomen throb painfully.

"You need to breathe..Namjoon.. take a deep breath for me."

Namjoon takes a deep breath, then another, relaxing when the dry heaving dies down, just laying on the wet tile floor.

"You need to get properly dried off." Seokjin urges, trying to get Namjoon to sit up, but Namjoon flinched away from the olders touch.

"Just..just a minute..please…?" Namjoon's head was spinning, the nausea still swirling in the pit of his stomach.

I knew it wasn't a good idea..Seokjin sighs, getting another towel to do his best to dry Namjoon without him moving, fluffing his hair against the towel.

"I'm so tired…" Namjoon says between deep breaths, trying to keep his stomach under control.

"I know. Let's get you to bed. Okay? You can't sleep here.." Seokjin once again gently pushes Namjoon to sit up, relieved when Namjoon doesn't fight against him.

"Did it work?" Jungkook asks, his heart tightening when he sees Namjoon. Oh no.. I made it worse…

Namjoon was hardly awake his cheeks flushed with fever shivering violently, Seokjin basically dragging him to the bed.

"Find me clothes for him." Seokjin orders. "Please.."

Jungkook ruffles through Namjoon's suitcase, pulling out a pair of sweats and a plain white t-shirt. "Here Hyung.."

"Is..is there anything else I could…could do to help?" Jungkook felt his throat tightening, his emotions threatening to spill over.

"No. I got it from here." Seokjin dismisses him, wishing that he didn't try his idea. He didn't want to take his frustration on the young maknae. All he wanted to do was help. One of the others will comfort him.

Jungkook nods leaving the room.

"Cold…" Namjoon mumbles as Seokjin takes off his wet undergarments.

"I'll get you warmed up, just try to work with me for just a minute." Seokjin struggled to lift him enough to get the sweats on. "Namjoonie you aren't making this easy.."

"I'm sorry.." Namjoon says softly, trying to help by holding himself up with one arm as Seokjin gets the shirt on him, only lasting a few seconds before another wave of dizziness washes over him, making his stomach woozy one more. "Hyung.. dizzy.." He softly moans.

Seokjin stops what he's doing to hold Namjoon close to him, wincing when his bare skin touched his arm. "I got you, you're okay.. you're okay.." Seokjin strokes his damp hair.

"Make it stop.." Namjoon whines softly.

"I would if I could baby.. just bear it a little longer. It'll pass.." Seokjin speaks softly, running his hand down Namjoon's back lightly scratching.

Namjoon held onto Seokjin tightly until the feeling passes, collapsing into him when his body finally relents.

"Are you okay Joon?" Seojin asked barely above a whisper, getting no response. "Namjoon?" He repeats a little louder, gently moving Namjoon away from his chest biting his lip when he sees the unconscious rapper in his arms, unsure on if Namjoon simply fell asleep, or if he fainted. I need to do something..

Seokjin looks up home remedies for fever on his phone, willing to try anything to give at least a little relief to his leader. Luke warm water. I need to use luke warm water…

He leaves the bed as quietly as possible, going to the bathroom to get a washcloth, using a cup to fill with water, returning to the bed, folding it neatly across Namjoon's forehead, jumping with Namjoon twitches.

"Aiish.." He covers his mouth, not meaning to make a sound. Good..he's still out.. Seokjin sighs, refreshing the cloth everytime Namjoon's feverish skin made it warm again.

I'll have to see if I can get him to drink water when he's up again.. Seokjin makes a mental note.

"How is he?" Hoseok whispers, peeking into the room. "Jungkookie was really upset.."

"I'm not sure.." Seokjin sighs. "Is Jungkook okay? I didn't mean to be so harsh on him. I'm just stressed out.”

"Jiminie and Taehyungie are cheering him up. They were driving me up the wall with all their concerns. I'm glad they're distracted now.." Hoseok couldn't look at Namjoon. Seeing his members in pain broke his heart. "Is there anything I could do to help?"

"He's sweating so much, he's going to dehydrate.. could you see if we have anything like vitamin water?"

“Sure. I’ll be right back.” Hoseok leaves the room and Seokjin brushes the blonde hair off Namjoon’s sweaty face.

“Joonie, wake up for me, please,” he says softly, patting Namjoon’s cheek gently. Namjoon’s eyes flutter open and he groans in pain.

“Hyung…” he mumbles. “It hurts…”

“I know, Joon. Where does it hurt?” Namjoon rips the towel off his forehead and turns to his side.

“Stomach…head…” Namjoon groans again and wraps his arms around his stomach. Seokjin rubs his back gently.

“You’re okay, Joon. You need to try and drink a little, or you’ll get dehydrated.” Seokjin can already see Namjoon is sweating heavily again. “Let me rub your stomach,” he says, placing a hand on Namjoon’s belly.

“No, hyung…” Namjoon mutters, pushing it away.

“What can I do to make you feel better?”

“Nothing,” Namjoon says.

“Can I hold you?” Seokjin asks. Namjoon shakes his head furiously. Seokjin feels useless. He knows Namjoon isn’t a fan of physical affection, but usually when he’s sick he’ll tolerate it. This is different though. Seokjin hasn’t seen Namjoon this sick in a long time. Seokjin sighs as he hears a whimper and sees a tear running down Namjoon’s cheek. “You’re okay, Joonie,” he says softly, wiping the tear off Namjoon’s face with his sleeve. Namjoon winces at the texture on his sensitive skin.

“Hyung…” he whines.

“Sorry, Joon,” Seokjin whispers, pressing a chaste kiss to Namjoon’s forehead. He’s still burning hot from the fever. “Can I put the wet towel back on you?” he asks, and Namjoon nods. Seokjin gently places it back on the younger’s forehead, rubbing his back. He feels bad for being snappy with Jungkook, but he’s frustrated at how much worse the maknae’s idea made Namjoon’s fever. He doesn’t know what to do.

“Hyung?” Hoseok walks in with a bottle of Pocari Sweat. “I have this…”

“Perfect, Hobi. Thank you.” Seokjin takes the bottle and hands it to Namjoon. “Sit up, Joon.” Namjoon weakly pulls himself up, moaning at the pain it causes. He puts the bottle to his lips, slowly drinking the gel inside. It tastes awful and makes him feel even more nauseous despite how nice it feels on his scratchy throat. After emptying a quarter of the bottle, Namjoon hands it back to Seokjin.

“H-hyung,” Namjoon mumbles.

“What is it, Joonie?”

“I’m so cold…”

“Can I hold you?” Seokjin asks again, and this time, Namjoon nods. Seokjin lays down next to Namjoon, pulling him close and rubbing his back slowly.

“Aish…you’re burning,” he says. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

“Is there anything else you need?” Hoseok asks.

“We’re okay, Hobi. Thank you.”

“Hobah..” Namjoon says.

“I’m here, Joonie,” he says.

Namjoon whines softly. “Don’t go.”

“You…want me to stay?” Hoseok smiles, but Namjoon doesn’t respond. Seokjin feels Namjoon’s body go limp in his arms, his breathe getting slower.

“He’s sleeping now,” Seokjin whispers, rubbing Namjoon’s back.

—

About 30 minutes pass by with Hoseok sitting on the chair in the corner and Seokjin cuddling Namjoon. “What time is it, Hobi?” Seokjin asks. Hoseok looks at his phone.

“It’s 6:00, hyung. I’m really hungry,” Hoseok responds.

“Me too…”

“We should go have dinner,” Hoseok says. Seokjin hesitates.

“I don’t wanna leave Joon here by himself…what if he wakes up and panics?”

“Hyung, he’s dead asleep. We both need to eat.” Seokjin nods and pulls away from Namjoon slowly, being careful not to wake the leader. The two go to the kitchen where they find that Taehyung has cooked dinner for them.

“How’s Namjoon-hyung?” Jungkook asks. His eyes are red. He’s been crying.

“He’s…he’s sleeping,” Seokjin says honestly. “Jungkook…I’m sorry I was so harsh with you.”

Jungkook smiles. “It’s okay, hyung. I’ve already eaten. I can go check on him,” he says. Seokjin nods.

“Let me know if he’s doing bad again.” Jungkook nods and walks over to Namjoon and Jimin’s room, sighing as he sees his leader shaking in his sleep.

"I'm sorry Hyungie.." Jungkook whispers softly as he checks the cloth on his forehead, already warm again from Namjoon's feverish skin. I made it worse.. Jungkook sniffles, forcing his tears away. I don't have time to feel bad.. I need to do something..

Jungkook wets the washcloth again, slowly running it over Namjoon's skin, wiping down his arm then across his exposed collar bone.

"Mn…Hyung..cold…" Namjoon complains softly in his sleep voice coming out in a low husky tone.

Jungkook stops in his tracks, putting it back in place on his forehead. I don't want to wake him up, but I can't just sit here and do nothing.. He sighs in frustration, gently playing with Namjoon’s soaked hair. Namjoon’s face twists in discomfort and he rolls onto his side. Jungkook can tell Namjoon is about to be sick by the sounds his stomach is making and how pale he’s getting. He rubs the older’s back, hoping for it to maybe, just maybe go away after a few minutes. Namjoon’s back is burning hot. Jungkook wants to take his shirt off, or pull the blankets off, or something to help reduce his temperature. He knows it’s his fault that Namjoon’s fever got even higher, and the guilt is killing him.

He rubs Namjoon’s back comfortingly as he hears the leader groan in discomfort. Namjoon’s eyes open, and Jungkook can tell he’s about to pass out, throw up, or both.

"Hyung, do you need help up?" Jungkook asks in a small voice when he notices Namjoon sitting up, but he doesn't answer, trying to rush to the bathroom, staggering towards the bathroom.

Jungkook tries to help, trying to grab his arm to help lead him, but Namjoon pushes him away.

"No.. go.." Namjoon manages to force the words out hoarsely. He had already gotten sick in front of Taehyung. He wasn't going to add Jungkook to that list.

Jungkook watches him shut the door, hearing Namjoon heaving from the other side of the door. I need to get Seokjin-hyungie.. He rushes into the kitchen where the older boys were eating.

"Namjoonie-hyung is getting sick again. He shut me out, I need help!" Jungkook says without taking a breath. Seokjin went to get up from his half eaten meal, but Yoongi stops him.

"I'll go. You eat. I'll handle it hyung." Yoongi rushes to the bathroom, going to Namjoon's side, rubbing his hand across Namjoon's back as he heaves.

"Jun…Jungkook I said-" His words are cut off by another round of sick spilling into the bowl.

"Namjoon-ah, it's me and I'm not leaving." Yoongi tells him firmly.

Namjoon relaxes a little, feeling comfort from Yoongi's presence. "It'll be over soon. Just try to breathe Namjoon."

Namjoon takes deep breaths between gags, collapsing against Yoongi as they die down.

"Sh*t Namjoon, you're burning up.." Yoongi swears, grabbing for a piece of toliet paper to wipe across the edges of Namjoon's mouth. "I need you to drink some water for me Joon."

Namjoon shakes his head. I don't want to throw up again.

"I know it sucks, but you'll only get worse if you don't. Come on Namjoon.."

Yoongi gently props Namjoon against the bathtub, quickly moving to the sink to get a cup of water.

"Yoongi-yah…no…" Namjoon argues when Yoongi puts the cup by his lips.

"Namjoon please, just try." Yoongi tried to hide the desperation in his voice. It's been years since he's seen Namjoon this bad. "Just a sip."

Namjoon takes a few sips, washing the awful taste from his mouth and soothing his raw throat, but it already felt like a stone in his stomach, turning his head away.

"Good job Joon, that's all I wanted.."Yoongi gently pulls Namjoon to his feet, struggling to move him forward. Namjoon was hardly conscious, being mostly dead weight. "Stay with me a little longer okay?"

Namjoon tried his best to stay up, but he used the last of his energy. The older rapper just barely makes it to the bed before Namjoon stopped holding onto him, almost making both of them topple to the floor. "Fu*k Namjoon..you're heavy.."

Namjoon murmurs an apology. Yoongi takes off Namjoon's shirt, taking advantage of his lack of power to fight against him, finding the rag and wiping it across Namjoon's scorching back.

Namjoon had his eyes closed, but he didn't look anywhere near peaceful. His breathing was labored and his hand was still wrapped tightly around his lower abdomen, an upset gurgle coming from it the sips of water sitting uncomfortably in his stomach.

"Poor Joon-ah.."Yoongi whispers, wiping the cloth across Namjoon's shoulders, across the back of his neck then going down his arm. I need to get his fever down…

"Hyung..will you lay with me?" Yoongi jumps in surprise when he hears the hoarse whisper of Namjoon.

"Sh*t..you scared me.. i thought you were out.."

"I can't sleep.. it hurts.." Namjoon whines.

"I know, I know..Let me wash you up first, okay? I need to cool you down first. ." Yoongi does the best he can to wash off the sweat, his heart tightening when he sees Namjoon trembling, despite his high fever.

"It's cold.." Namjoon grabs onto Yoongi's wrist to stop him. "Please Hyungie.." Namjoon's voice comes out sounding much younger.

Yoongi stops in his tracks. "You're really sick Joon-ah.. Alright.. come here.." He takes a seat next to him, holding out his arms.

Namjoon cuddles up to him, Yoongi forcing himself not to flinch when he feels his hot skin brush against him. He's already sticking to me.. He couldn't recall the last time Namjoon cuddled up to him. He wasn't known for being the cuddly type like Taehyung or Jimin. It just made him worry more.

"It hurts Hyung.." Namjoon whimpers, clutching his stomach when another ripple of pain tears through his stomach.

Yoongi reaches slowly, rubbing his hand across Namjoon’s stomach to try to ease the pain, feeling it tightening underneath his palm.

Namjoon moans in time with a harsh cramp, and Yoongi shushes him. “You're ok, shh, Joonie,” he says softly.

“Ahh…hurts…” he whines. Yoongi presses down harder, trying to work out a cramp, and Namjoon curses under his breath. “Hyung…f*ck, it hurts so much.” Yoongi can see Namjoon starting to shiver.

“What should we do, Joonie?”

“Don’t know…” Namjoon sighs. He’s too weak to even sit up. His brain is foggy and he has no idea what would make him feel better. The pain is getting worse every second and he’s not sure how much longer he’s going to be able to take this. Barely anything works on his sensitive stomach.

“I can get some painkillers for you, Joonie, but I really don’t know what to do beyond that.”

“Get Jimin,” Namjoon says, his speech slurring. Jimin always knows how to cuddle him just the right way when he’s sick, just the right sweet things to say to make him feel a little less miserable and get his spirits up a tiny bit.

"Alright Namjoon." Yoongi gently escapes from the sick rapper, leaving to get Jimin.

"What's wrong? Has he gotten worse?" Jin asks, ready to spring up to go back to Namjoon's side.

"He has, but he wants Jimin.." Yoongi states.

"What? He asked for me?" Jimin's eyes widen in surprise.

"I think he just wants to be comforted. I'm not the best at that.." Yoongi scratches the back of his neck shyly. "I tried my best. It's your turn now."

Jimin gets a water bottle to take with him, hoping he could get him to drink at least a little bit."Hyungie, I'm here.."

"Minah…" Namjoon's voice comes out soft, the first part of his name getting cut off by a whimper.

Jimin puts the water down, curling around Namjoon. I don't want to stress him out more. He wanted cuddles, that's what I'll give him. He's so hot though..

"My poor Hyungie, it's okay.. It's okay.." Jimin runs his hand up and down Namjoon's side with his gentle touch, leaning his head on him. "We'll get you feeling better soon.."

Namjoon wasn't processing what Jimin was saying to him, but he enjoyed Jimin's soothing tone.

"We'll think of something to make you feel better. Maybe we can find a good mix of herbal tea.." Jimin continues just saying sweet nothings, gently rubbing his face against Namjoon's cheek. He's hardly conscious.. Jimin bites the inside of his cheek, just barely letting his fingers brush against Namjoon's belly, smiling softly when he feels some of the tension in Namjoon's body let up. "That's it Hyungie, relax.. I'll still be here when you wake up, just try to sleep for now.."

Namjoon relaxes, and after some time, he falls asleep.

—

Jimin leaves when he sees that Namjoon is comfortably asleep, going into the living room and seeing all of the other members.

“How is he?” Seokjin asks.

“He’s asleep. I think we should take him to the hospital, though. He’s burning hot and in a lot of pain.”

“I don’t think we can, Jiminie…” Seokjin says. “It’s a blizzard outside. We can’t even see five feet out of the window.”

“And our cell phones aren’t working.” Jungkook frowns, empathizing his point by showing Jimin his phone.

"We're lucky all this snow hasn't knocked the power out.." Yoongi adds in.

"Yoongi-hyung, don't you jinx us!" Taehyung frets. "We're having enough trouble already.."

"We have to think of something.." J-hope sighs in frustration.

"We're doing all we can. At least he's sleeping.." Seokjin looks around the room at the members. I have to do something. Everyone's stressed..

"Maybe, maybe we can go out on our own. If we drive really really slowly. It's better than just sitting around watching him slowly get worse." Jungkook whines desperately, staring at the flurry of snowflakes out the window.

"You know we can't do that.." Seokjin tries to comfort Jungkook, but be jerked away from his touch.

"But Namjoonie-hyung needs medicine..he's burning up with fever and he can't even sleep with his stomach constantly making him feel sick. We have to try!" Jungkook says with frustration, clenching his fists together. "We can't just do nothing!"

"We're doing all we can, there's no way we can drive in that storm. You can't even see the trees right outside the window. It's too dangerous Koo." Jin tries to calm Jungkook by stroking his hair, this time accepting his touch. Jungkook sighs, taking a few breaths to calm himself.

"What if we walk?" Jungkook looks hopelessly at Jin, already knowing the answer, tears swelling up.

"No way." Yoongi answers for Jin. "Are you trying to get lost in this mess? The nearest town is miles away. You'll end up with hypothermia before you even get halfway."

The boys stop their arguing when they hear Namjoon heaving again, Jin rushing back into the bathroom, kneeling beside Namjoon who had his head in the toliet bowl. "Namjoon-ah, it's okay..it's okay.. Hyung is here." Jin rubs his back and Namjoon spits into the toilet, only saliva coming up. Hyung, make it stop, it hurts so much.. Namjoon couldn't get the words out, only a small whimper coming as he holds his sore middle, his muscles finally pushing up acid, burning his throat.

"I know, I know, just try to breathe for me okay?" Jin scratches his nails lightly across Namjoon’s back. Namjoon tries, but he’s too distressed to breathe properly. Namjoon gags empty, whimpering.

“It hurts,” he says softly.

“Shh…I know, Joon. You’ll be okay. I’m here. I’ll keep you safe.” Namjoon finds comfort in that, calming down a bit. Seokjin puts his hand on Namjoon’s forehead. Sh*t. You’re even hotter than before. I don’t know what to do…” he says softly. “We might have to give you a cold bath.”

“No…” Namjoon says. “Please, no…”

Seokjin is about to say something, but suddenly, the lights start flickering.

“Hyung?” Namjoon’s voice is deep, but he sounds scared. The lights shut off, and Seokjin can’t hold back a curse under his breath. He hears footsteps come to the bathroom and Yoongi shines his phone’s flashlight at them. “Sh*t…you guys too?” Namjoon winces at the light and Seokjin nods.

“There’s some candles in the kitchen…” Taehyung comes up behind Yoongi. Namjoon turns away from the light. His head is hurting again, the bright lights not helping.

“Let’s get him to bed,” Seokjin says. Taehyung comes over and helps Namjoon up, the two of them bringing Namjoon to his bed with Yoongi behind him. Namjoon instantly rolls to his side, completely exhausted and still feeling nauseous. Taehyung lays next to him and rubs his hand up and down his hyung’s burning back. Namjoon sighs at the feeling of Taehyung’s hand. It feels nice, but he’s still not comfortable with his stomach rolling and head pounding.

“Do we have medicine?” Yoongi asks Seokjin.

“Namjoon might have some Ibuprofen,” he says. “For his migraines.” Namjoon shakes his head hard.

“I’m not taking anything…my stomach is killing me.” Taehyung puts his hand on Namjoon’s stomach, feeling it tense and cramp every few seconds. “Poor hyungie…” he says softly, rubbing gently. Namjoon seems to relax at the touch, breathing more slowly.

“Your fever is gonna make you worse, Joonie. You could pass out. Or start hallucinating,” Seokjin says. “Just try to take some and don’t throw up for an hour or so and you’ll start feeling better.” Namjoon doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to faint or start hallucinating, but he really doesn’t want to throw up again. Everything hurts and he’s exhausted, but he can’t sleep with how uncomfortable he is.

“Please, Joonie-hyung,” Taehyung says, and Namjoon shakes his head. Jungkook comes into the room with two lit candles and places them on the dresser. “What’s going on?” he asks.

“We’re trying to get Namjoon to take some medicine but he won’t..” Yoongi says. Jungkook frowns in sympathy, then sits on the bed facing namjoon, running a hand through his sweaty hair.

“Can you please try to take a little, hyung?” Jungkook asks, looking at Namjoon with round worried eyes. “You’ll feel better if you do.” He knows Namjoon and his soft spot can’t say no to him, even when he’s feeling like this.

Namjoon sighs. I can't say no when he looks at me like that.. "Alright..I'll try.."

Seokjin brightens up, quickly getting medicine from the bottle before he changes his mind. "Here Joon." He places the pill on Namjoon's tongue, quickly getting him a sip of water to help swallow it down. Please just drink a little more…

Namjoon takes a few mouthfuls of water before turning away from his eldest hyung."No more.."

"That's okay, you did good.." Taehyung smiles softly, gently rubbing his fingertips across Namjoon's cramping stomach.

"Thank you hyung." Jungkook says softly.

"I'm so tired.." Namjoon says in a hoarse whisper.

"Then we'll let you sleep.. Do you want me to take Taehyungie with us?" Seokjin asks, ready to remove the clingy vocalist but Namjoon shakes his head, still feeling guilty for how he treated him earlier.

"He's okay.."

"Get me if there's any change Tae. Take care of him." Seokjin gathered up the others and leaves the two alone.

Namjoon slowly started to drift off, his migraine becoming more manageable. Taehyung was humming as soft as he could as he continues to make feather light touches on Namjoon’s cramping belly.

Taehyung stops when he hears Namjoon start to snore. He's finally asleep, but for how long? He uses his sleeve to try to wipe some of the sweat off of Namjoon's brow. He's still sweating..

Taehyung reaches for the wet cloth slowly, fearful that the slightest wrong move would wake him, just barely grabbing it from the tag, wiping it gently over Namjoon’s body.

Just when Taehyung thought Namjoon was finally starting to recover, he felt his muscles tensing up again, the older quickly sitting up. "Taehyung.." His voice came out as a pained groan as another wave of nausea hits like a tidal wave, making him gag, mouth filling with hot sick, his cheeks puffing out.

"Hyung hold on I'll get-" Taehyung was too late, as he rushed to get the waste bin from the floor Namjoon had already started trying to scramble over him as his body pushes up more sick than he could hold down getting it on Taehyung, the side of the bed, then finally the bin on the floor, trying to prop himself up by his elbows. The pressure he was putting on his own stomach only worsened the pain, causing tears to run down his cheeks.

"Oh no Hyung.." Taehyung runs his hand down Namjoon's spine, feeling it arch as he continues to heave.

"Se-seokjinnie-hyung!" Taehyung yells coming out shaky with panic. "Yoongi-h-hyung!"

The two eldest run into the room Yoongi slowly lifting the bin from the floor keeping it by Namjoon’s face as Seokjin helped him sit up again. "Aiigo Namjoon-ah.. you're okay, you're okay.."

"N..no.." Namjoon sobs, all the stress on his body catching up with him. "I..i..can't do..do..ev..ev…" Another heave comes, cutting him off, only adding to his frustration causing even more tears to flow. Seokjin rubs his back gently.

“You’re okay…” Namjoon wipes his eyes and leans back.

“What happened, Taehyung?” Yoongi asks, taking the bin from Namjoon.

“He just woke up like this…and started vomiting. I have no idea what happened.” Seokjin uses a tissue from the side table to wipe Namjoon’s forehead from sweat.

“You’re burning hot, Joonie…we’re gonna have to give you a cold bath…”

Namjoon shakes his head. “Please…no…I’m freezing…” Namjoon’s eyes look glassy and his usually tan skin is pale.

Seokjin glances at Yoongi, who shrugs. “I think we have to…”

#sick!namjoon #sickfic #bts #caretaker!yoongi #btssickfic #caretaker!hoseok #caretaker!seokjin #caretaker!jungkook #caretaker!taehyung #bts sickfic #caretaker!jimin #tw emeto #tw vomit

35 notes · View notes

teddyrb · 2 years

Text

Hide and Seek

Byers Family x Byers!Gn!Reader

Genre - Fluff, Angst

Warning - Swearing.

Summary - When Y/n and their brothers go out to play hide and seek, Jonathan and Will are unable to find Y/N.

A/N - This is kinda short but it was supposed to just be a Jonathan one shot because I love Jonathan, he’s such a considerate and caring brother but I changed it.

Word count - 878

The three of you had gone outside, Joyce was yelling on the phone to Lonnie and Jonathan didn't want you to hear anything so he suggested you go play outside.

"Why don't we play hide and seek, okay? I'll go first and you two hide, just don't go too far." Jonathan looked down at the two of you and waited for you to agree before he turned around and started counting. "One, two, three, four, five."

He heard the both of you run towards the trees around the back of the house, after thirty or so seconds he stopped counting. He walked towards the backyard slowly, "Ready or not, here I come." And then he began walking towards the forest where he knew the two of you had hidden.

Will had hidden himself in Castle Byers, it was his favourite place to hide but Jonathan always waited a couple of minutes before he found the boy. You were the hardest to find, you were extremely outdoorsy and competitive, and worst of all, you weren't afraid of getting dirty. Jonathan had once found you covered in dirt after you had yourself under a pile of leaves, another time your clothes were ripped horrifically from hiding in a thorny bush and he one found you minutes before you could hide yourself on the roof of the shed. Jonathan knew that you scoped out places to hide all the time, you took this seriously and he knew that giving you this escape helped when all your mom and older brother could worry about was how many shifts they needed to get to afford rent and food. He looked around for you, Will in tow but after fifteen minutes they'd split up, still looking for you.

The boy's looked under every leaf pile, they checked all of the bushes that they could find but you were nowhere to be seen. Jonathan was beginning to worry. After everything that had happened over the past few years he could never be 100% certain that you were safe and not being able to find you scared the crap out of him. "You won Y/N! Come out now, we need to go back inside." Jonathan was shouting, waiting for you to jump out from behind a tree and scare the shit out of him. "Fuck." He whispered as he and Will couldn't find a trace of you. Tears came to Jonathan's eyes at the thought that he could be responsible for you being in trouble.

Him and Will made there way back inside, they needed Joyce's help with finding you. Joyce looked stressed when the boys walked in but was no longer on the phone, she looked at the two boys and noted your absence. "Where's Y/N?" Joyce asked standing up and looking behind them, neither of them could answer. "Where's Y/N?" She asked again, more tension in her voice this time.

"We can't find them mom. We're playing hide and seek and I told them both not to go too far but, me and Will, we've looked everywhere mom, they're not there." Jonathan couldn't look Joyce in the eyes.

"Stay here you two." She pushed past the boys and made her way into the forest, she started calling out your name. Panicked.

"Y/N, where are you? You won you need to come out now." She yelled moving around the forest so you would hear her, a tear streamed down her face as she began panicking more. Behind her she could hear your laugh, Joyce turned around but you weren't there. Again, your laugh directed her, she looked up and you where there. Sat in a tree, shrouded in leaves, perfectly safe. "Oh my God, get down from there. Why did you climb up there, you could have fallen out of the tree if you weren't being careful." She scolded you as you made your way down the tree.

When you reached the bottom of the tree you saw how upset your mom was. She wrapped her arms around you and held you to her chest. "I'm sorry mom, I just wanted to win the game." You explained.

"Oh, you won alright. Let's get inside, Jonathan was freaking out when he couldn't find you." You felt even worse knowing that your brother was only trying to make you feel better over your dad. Joyce walked back but you moved quicker, wanting to put your brothers thoughts at ease.

Jonathan was sat at the table and Will was on the couch, both of them turned their gaze towards the door when it opened. Jonathan hugged you first and Will joined in when he reached the pair of you. "Oh my god, where were you?" Jonathan's voice was horse, it sounded like he wanted to cry.

"In a tree." You smiled a cheeky smile and he had to fight back a smile of his own. You knew he wasn't going to be mad at you.

Will laughed at you. "You hid in a tree? Oh my god. How did you even get up there?"

You shrugged your shoulders. "I climbed." You said sarcastically.

Jonathan smiled at your answer and Will laughed again. "You're such a loser." The younger brother spoke.

"Well, actually I won."

311 notes · View notes

vikkirosko · 1 year

Note

Hiya! How are you feeling? How's life treating you? :)

The same tall, outgoing, popular, and going to sports activities male reader with the same characters. (Craig, Tweek, Clyde, Butters)

Sickness…So when the male reader gets sick it's actually the first time he is the quietest and calmness. It's just like he's not in the same place with you or just doesn't exist, he talks very minimally. 😭 He mostly stays in bed and sleeps most of the time or reads a book or watched TV. He can take care of himself perfectly, but if their lover wants to help, he'll hesitate cause he doesn't want to make them sick. But give up at the end due to him being a big softie. He tries to show affection, but carefully, if his lover wants to stay for him in bed all the time, he'll listen before after a long time he gots too bored and wants to walk a little, so he just starts to wander around the house with a blanket around him.🤭

Hi, I'm as good as I can be. And how are you doing? I hope you're doing well

Headcanons Sickness

🖕 Craig Tucker x male!Reader 🚀

For all the time you've known each other, you've never been sick, so when you didn't come to school, he thought you were at a sports competition, but when he called you, it turned out that you were sick. Craig was genuinely surprised by this and decided to visit you to make sure you were on the mend and take care of you if necessary

You were unusually quiet and calm. You spent most of your time in bed, watching TV or reading books. You had a fever and didn't really want to leave the bed. Craig planned to spend the rest of the day with you and come to you until you recovered, but you were against it. You didn't want him to get sick because of you, but Craig didn't listen to your opinion. He didn't leave despite your concern and in the end you gave up, letting him stay, but asking him to promise that if he felt that he was starting to get sick, he would immediately go home

Craig sat with you and you watched movies together that were at your house. He brought you food and drink from the kitchen when you asked him, took care of you and kept you company. It was unusual for him to see you so quiet, it was unusual for him that he did not see you at school, although usually you were almost constantly with him. Although he didn't talk about it, he was waiting for you to finally recover

Craig was relieved when you recovered. He felt much calmer when he knew that you were healthy. He didn't want you to get sick, because then you saw less of each other, and without you he began to feel lonely, even though he didn't admit it

☕ Tweek Tweak x male!Reader ☕

When Tweek found out that you were sick, he began to worry a lot about you. He was afraid that you were ill with something serious and several times wanted to run away from lessons to check on you, but his friends convinced him that you just had a cold and that he would be able to visit you after lessons. As soon as the lessons were over, he hurried to the store and to the pharmacy, after which he quickly ran to your house, carrying bags with everything that he thought could be useful

You met your boyfriend with a slightly tired smile on his face. Tweek was genuinely concerned about your health and hurried to check your temperature, ask you a huge number of questions and panic, fearing that you have some serious illness. It's the first time he's seen you so calm and quiet. It scared him, so you often held his hand and comforted him, saying that in a couple of days you would feel better

Several times you tried to persuade him to go home. You were worried that he might get sick too, but no matter how many times you asked him, he wouldn't leave. He was ready to get sick if it meant that you could spend time together, because he genuinely missed you and was worried. Eventually you stopped trying to convince him to leave, ready to take care of him if he gets sick

Tweek sat with you almost all the time that you were sick. You watched TV together and he told you about what was happening at school while you were away. He hoped that you would recover soon and everything would go back to normal. He felt lonely at school without you, because you were usually there for him. He hoped that you would recover quickly from your cold

🌮 Clyde Donovan x male!Reader 💧

When you didn't come to school, Clyde wasn't too worried. He knew that you could have had reasons for this, ranging from sports competitions to unforeseen circumstances. It was only when the teacher asked him to take your homework to you that he found out that you were ill. He hurried over to you, intending to spend time with you without worrying too much that he might get infected

It's the first time he's seen you so quiet and calm. He was used to the fact that every time you rushed to hug him, but this time he was the one who hugged you. When Clyde came in, you were in your bed. Because of the illness, you spent almost all the time in bed. You didn't have a fever or anything like that, but because of the illness you got tired quickly and therefore preferred to lie in bed and read books or sleep. Clyde sat down next to you and told you about everything that happened at school, holding your hand. He spoke even more than usual, as if speaking for the two of you

Several times you told him that he should go home, because you didn't want him to get sick, but Clyde didn't listen to you. Pretty quickly, he brought snacks to your room and turned on the movie so you could watch it together. Clyde wasn't worried about getting sick. For him, it was an excuse not to go to school and spend time with you. You guessed about it, but still didn't chase him away anymore, just glad that your loved one was there, because you missed him

Clyde came to you every day after school, brought you different snacks, chatted with you about everything in the world, although for the most part he was the one who spoke. Clyde couldn't wait for you to recover and you could see each other at school again, because school seemed especially boring to him without you

⚡Butters Stotch x male!Reader 🔨

When Butters found out that you were sick, the first thing he hurried to call you and find out how you were feeling. He was genuinely worried about you and your hoarse voice didn't calm him down much. That's why he went to visit you after school. He felt lonely at school without you. He got used to the fact that you were always there, that you held his hand, hugged him and often talked to him

When he came to your house, he saw you in bed. He began to worry even more, fearing that your illness was so serious that you could not get out of bed, but as it turned out, this was not the case. You had a common cold, but you got tired quickly, so you preferred to spend time in bed reading books or watching movies. Butters breathed a sigh of relief when you said that you just need a few days to rest and your cold will pass

Butters was worried about you, so he decided to spend time with you after school. Several times you tried to convince him that he shouldn't do it. You didn't want him to get sick too, but Butters sincerely wanted to stay with you, so you couldn't refuse his request. You watched movies together and he read books aloud to you. You sat next to him and listened to his voice, smiling gently

You weren't sure how much it really was, but spending time with him made you feel better. Sometimes you joked that his company was better for you than any medicine. Every time your words embarrassed him, but he was glad to be with you again, even if you were sick

#south park #south park x reader #south park headcanons #Craig Tucker #Craig Tucker x Reader #Tweek Tweak #Tweek Tweak x Reader #Clyde Donovan #Clyde Donovan x Reader #Butters Stotch #Butters Stotch x Reader

39 notes · View notes

whatisreggieshortfor · 2 years

Text

Knock Out

Part One Part Two

Tendou saw what looked to be another team come in to watch, probably trying to size up future competition. But what caught him off guard was the boy that looked so achingly familiar, especially when he was scolding a taller boy that tried to wander away, but the middle blocker couldn’t place why. Why did Tendou feel like he used to see that face all the time?

He was determined to find out.

As soon as the game was over, Tendou was determined to make it out before the stands cleared completely, to try to catch you and figure out why you looked familiar. But coach stopped him, and he was forced to wait. He recognized the jackets of your teammates, knew Nekoma was the school. And he knew Nekoma was familiar to him, but other than being located in Tokyo he had never paid them much attention outside of the game.

Tokyo.

The realization hit him like a freight train. You were…you were different. But he wondered if you were still you. Why hadn’t you reached out after you moved? Why hadn’t you told him? Did you think he’d-

As soon as the thought dawned on him, he was running out of the gym, away from his coach that was calling after him. He didn’t stop moving, worried that if he did he wouldn’t make it. It took some time, and a lot of asking random people, but eventually he located the team.

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked between heavy breaths, looking between each players face.

“What do you want with our manager?” Yamamoto crossed his arms, only stepping back when Kuroo told him to calm down.

“Where is Y/N??” Tendou asked again, starting to scan the surrounding area for you, only to freeze when you rounded the corner from the bathrooms.

“Sato’-“

“Paradise!” He bolted over, throwing his arms around your middle and lifting you into the air, “God, you look so good! I’ve missed you!”

“Aren’t- You aren’t mad?” Your voice was so small for how solid you were built now.

“Mad?” The red head blinked, before his brows furrowed and he pinched your side until you yelped, “I’m annoyed. You haven’t talked to me in over a year! But mad? I’ve told you before haven’t I? When it comes to you…never. If you thought I wouldn’t accept you- or god I don’t even know what you could’ve been afraid of- I get it but I could never be mad at you. You’re my paradise!”

Your arms flew around his shoulders before you could think about it, face burying into his neck to hide the tears springing to your eyes, “I missed you so much, Satori.”

“I missed you immensely more, you cannot even begin to fathom.” You pulled away to see Tendou’s bright grin, the skip in your heart acknowledging what you already knew. Those feelings hadn’t gone away. He opened his mouth before a deep voice cut him off.

“Tendou, I do not mean to interrupt, but the coach is rather upset with you for leaving. Hello Y/N.”

“Hi, Ushijima.” You waved a little awkwardly, well aware that the Nekoma boys were watching the entire interaction closely.

“I am glad to see you’ve been well. I look forward to seeing you in the finals.”

“I- Ushijima, you realize I do not play volleyball anymore, right? I manage this team.”

The stoic boy just nodded, “I did not mean the volleyball finals.”

Tendou laughed, “Does the great UshiWaka actually pay attention to something other than volleyball?”

“Why would I not? Y/N is a formidable opponent in his division.”

You blinked up at Ushijima, slowly realizing that he didn’t recognize you from before. “Ushi, you know that we know each other, right?” His head cocked to the side, just a little bit, and while his face didn’t change you could read the confusion in his eyes. “I used to go to Shiratorizawa with you guys. But I moved last year.”

“I do not understand.”

Tendou just sighed, giving his best friend an encouraging smile, “Remember the ace of the girls team?”

“I understand they share a name, but what regard does that hold to him?”

You gave him a tight smile of your own, “I’m the same person, Ushijima. I was a girl. I left Shiratorizawa and transitioned, and now I’m not.”

He looked to be in thought for a moment before he replied, “You would be wrong.” You were blown away. You remembered he had a blunt nature, but that? The Nekoma boys behind you were getting pissed and protective when Ushijima spoke again, “I do not understand why you are all upset. If Y/N is a boy, then he was never a girl. He was just…how has Tendou phrased this to me before? It would be like he was trying to play volleyball with soccer equipment? Just because the supplies were wrong, doesn’t mean he can’t.” Tendou grinned at him, knowing that some of his lessons were sticking, and just wrapped his arm tight around you shoulders.

Fitting Tendou back into your life was surprisingly easy. You’d always kind of left a hole where he had been for years, so he fit into it like the puzzle piece you’d been missing. Unfortunately with that came the same actions of you biting back from being just a little too lovey. Just a little too obvious with your affection. A little too forward. The last thing you wanted was to scare him away. And you knew Tendou like you knew yourself. If you ever told him, he wouldn’t take you seriously, or he would think you were screwing with him. It just didn’t seem worth the risk, especially when you only saw him every other weekend, when he would take the train from Miyagi to Tokyo.

But something that you’d nearly forgotten about your best friend in the year without contact was that he was extremely physical in his affection, even on a platonic level. It was getting harder and harder to sleep the nights he wasn’t there, because whenever he was there he would wrap himself around you to go to bed. When the two of you would go out and do things, alone or with your team, he would keep your hand clasped in his. He routinely greeted you with light kisses on the head.

You were going crazy.

The night you won your semi-finals match, all of the Nekoma team was in the stands cheering you on, and so was Ushijima and Tendou and your sister. Lev was practically falling over himself in his clumsy attempt to congratulate you as you emerged the locker room, “Me and Alisa arranged some things at your place! Is your boyfriend joining us?”

You froze, hand still poised to finish hoisting your bag onto your shoulder, and you could see your sister face palm a few feet away. Tendou cooed in his sing song voice, “Aw, Y/N did you finally confess to Ushiwaka? I knew there was a reason you stuck around so long.” Your head snapped over to him, hurt washing over your face. Did he honestly think that? Was he trying to make a joke? When he saw your face, his smile faded, “What? Did I blow a secret or something?”

You scoffed, pushing past them all and walking out the door. You figure there was some kind of discussion amongst them, because Kuroo was the only one to follow you outside. You didn’t think about it as you spoke, “How could he think that?”

The captain shrugged, “Have you ever, ya know, told him how you felt?”

“No, I’m not insane. He’d think I was screwing with him or lying.”

Kuroo sighed, “To be honest with you, I don’t understand how he hasn’t realized it by now.”

You shook your head, staring up at the moon where it barely started hanging in the sky, “I always figured either he would figure it out, or I’d eventually be able to move on. I mean how do you tell your childhood best friend that not only are you not the girl he always thought you were, but that just after you figured that out in middle school you realized you were also in love with him??”

“You could always say it venting to your friend and hope he overhears?”

Could the ground swallow you up? Was there an option in life for that? You felt the panic settle in to every cell of your being as you watched the sheepish expression spread across the redhead’s face as he slid the rest of the way out the door. Kuroo looked between the two of you, before pulling out his phone and busying himself a few feet away. You attempted to dislodge the lump in your throat before you spoke, “I don’t think there’s a point in asking how much of that you heard.” Had your shoes always been this interesting to look at?

“Paradise.” Tendou waited for a minute, watching you as you seemed to wrestle with the idea of looking up at him, before he stepped forward and nudged your chin up to look you in the eye. “Y/N, do you really feel that way?” Mutely you nodded, chewing on the inside of your bottom lip. “How long? You said since middle school, but how long?”

“Second year.”

“Second year? Second year of middle school? So five years now?” You nodded again, and you watched the smile tugging at his lips that he tried to fight away. “If you had just told me, we could’ve saved so much time.” His lips pressed to your forehead as he wrapped his arms around you.

Your arms hesitantly followed suit, wrapping around his torso, “Does that- Do you-“

“I thought you would’ve noticed with the way I always cuddle you to sleep, or how I hold you for no reason, or the kisses I give you- I love you. I’m in love with you. I have fallen for you. However you wanna say it, my paradise. You knocked me out before you ever even tried.” Your arms squeezed tighter, and while you were pretty sure you were going to have to beat your captain up for recording this, you might have him send it to you anyway.

When Tendou played against Karasuno, you were there to cheer him on, and there to comfort him when they lost. He came to see Nekoma too. When the finals of your competition rolled around, and you weren’t going to make it to Nekoma’s nationals match because the times coincided, Alisa managed the team for you, and Tendou live-streamed your fight to Yamamoto’s phone so the team could cheer you on from afar.

When you won your title, your best friend was there.

And when he kissed you like his life depended on it to celebrate, you could feel the love and the promise that you would always have him with you.

Masterlist

#haikyuu #haikyuu x male reader #tendou satori x trans reader #hq tendou #tendou satori x male reader #tendou satori x reader #haikyuu x trans reader #trans reader #trans male reader #male reader #childhood best friends to lovers

115 notes · View notes

paisholotus · 8 months

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 6

Narrative

"So? What are your thoughts, love? Tommy asked Yuna as she walked around, holding Nova, appreciating Shelby's pub.

"I like it. It's quite old-fashioned, which fits you." Tommy laughed at her, saying, "Oh, so you think I'm old then, yeah?" She chuckled and headed up the stairs to find Arthur and her son.

"It has a very 20s vibe to it. Particularly with the leather chairs and stone walls. However, the lighting gives it a modern appearance." Aria said as she walked alongside Polly.

"That ain't so bad, right, Yun?!" Arthur said this while bouncing Alex on his leg, wearing his peaked hat. Yuna laughed as she saw her son giggle excessively while he was doing loud imitations. "Not at all, Arth," she responds. "You all might actually be my competition, though it isn't much competition." She teases as the Shelby family laughs.

"Oi! There's no need to be greedy, love," John says as he stands next to Aria, wrapping his arm around her and chewing on his toothpick. "Your business is all the way in London, and we're in fookin' Birmingham!" Aria snorts and crosses her arms as he goes to kiss her cheek, but she pushes his head away, smirking at him. "What does the location have to do with anything if the competition is fierce, Johnny boy?" She teased as she strolled back to the counter to sit.

"And, in any case, a pub is only as good as its drinks," Aria said as she shrugged John's arm away and walked over to the counter. "So give us something good, and we'll tell you our thoughts." She said this, smirking at Tommy. Arthur laughs and hands Alex to Polly, who is now also holding Nova.

"And, Ms. Walker, what will it be? Beer? Whiskey? Rum?" He inquires. Yuna and Aria looked over the drink menus. Yuna chose whiskey because she hated beer and wasn't in the mood for rum. Aria chose rum because she also disliked beer but didn't want to drink whiskey right now.

"Get me a glass of your best whiskey and Aria a glass of white rum on the rocks, Arth." She stated this with satisfaction as she and Aria walked over to the couches while John poured himself a beer and Tommy and Arthur went to get Yuna and Aria's drinks.

Alex leapt off Polly's lap and onto the couch, saying, "Mommy, I want something to drink too." Yuna sat Alex on her lap, smiled, and thanked Arthur for their beverages. "I'm afraid you're too young for these drinks, lad." Arthur said, bursting out laughing. "Get them some pop, Arthur." John yelled as he sat at the counter.

Yuna sipped her whiskey and hummed at the taste; it was really good. "Oi! Tom, are you up here?" A man yelled while walking up the stairs.

"Harry" Tommy nodded, and the other two Shelby men did as well. "Whatcha doin' here, Harry? John asked. "Well, I thought I'd come and get me a last drink since I'm not running the counter any longer," Harry said as he sat at the counter.

"Retired?" Yuna asked him. "Something like that. Harry sadly smiled at Yuna. Yuna frowned at Harry and gave a disapproving look to Tommy. "Forcible Retirement? Really, Tommy," she replied as she finished her whiskey.

"His pension was quite hefty, Ms. Walker. In his defense, he said Yuna gives him a "as if that's better" look.

Arthur slapped Harry on the shoulder and said, "Well, Harry, you're welcome to come by anytime." Harry nodded and rose up, preparing to leave. He nodded to the Shelby men, including Polly, and smiled goodbye to Yuna.

Yuna stepped back to the counter, picking up Alex and Nova as Aria set down their empty glasses. "He seemed to be nice." Yuna told them. "Yes, he's a nice bloke. Polly nodded and took Nova from her.

Tommy raises his brow at Yuna, who rolls her eyes. For someone who took pride in being monotonous in any situation, he constantly acted like a jealous caveman when any man caught Yuna's attention. Even as children, no one dared to look Yuna in the eyes.

"Mama, I'm getting hungry." Alex mumbled as he wrapped his arms around her neck. Aria went to grab their coats, and as John stepped up to kiss her again, she pushed his head away and waved her finger in his face, shaking her head. "Playing hard to get, eh? John smirked at her. Yuna approached Tommy and kissed his cheek, saying, "Bye, love; see you later." The ladies made their way down the stairs to Polly's for lunch.

Smirking at his brother, John slips onto the couch. "What exactly is it, John boy?" Tommy asks as he goes to light another cigarette.

"When are you going to ask her to marry you, Tommy?"

Tommy is taken aback slightly, mostly because he wasn't expecting John to ask him that. He just assumed John would make fun of him for how Yuna and his kids got him wrapped around their fingers.

"I'm not sure if she's ready for that. I mean, the kids just found out their father isn't dead; I don't want to rush things and it turns to shit." Tommy clenched his jaw as anger bubbled back in his chest. Yuna went all these years thinking that they were all dead. She had to take care of his two children without him. The things he missed out on he could never get back, and that angered Tommy the most.

"Well, whenever you decide to ask 'er, she'll most likely say yes." John says it confidently. "She'll never love another bastard like you, so I wouldn't be too worried bout it, yeah!" He said loudly, causing Arthur to laugh with John. Tommy smiled lowly and raised his mug, agreeing.

Even though Tommy wanted to believe John completely, a traitorous voice in the back of his head tells him it's because he's afraid to ask her because he's scared to hear her response, terrified that she'll reject him. Even though he knows Yuna loves him unconditionally and always has, he just doesn't think he's good enough or deserving of her. Tommy has always felt like that; even when they were kids, he felt as though he was never worth her kind soul.

Tommy cleared his throat, looked at John, and smirked at him this time. "How do you feel about seeing Aria again, John boy?"

John's face went blank, and he leaned back into the couch, deep in thought. "I didn't think I'd ever see 'er, again. Then us seeing each other again, and they told us they thought we were dead. All those feelings came back, and it made me realize I never stopped loving her." He said this, gulping down his beer with watery eyes.

"I'm just fookin angry!" He says he's slamming his mug onto the table. "We could've been married with a bunch of fookin kids. I-i mean, I don't regret marrying Martha; I loved her. But Aria was my first choice. We might have a chance now; I think she'll love the kids, but the lost time I can't get back." He said sadly.

Arthur pats John on the back and says, "Well, you and Tom can make up for lost time. NOW ENOUGH WITH THIS SHITTY, FOOKIN, SAD TALK! YOU BLOODY BASTARD, PLAY THE HAND!" The Shelby men laughed and continued to drink, smoke, and play cards.

11 notes · View notes

selanpike · 1 year

Text

When You First Met: mobswitch fic

henlo friends i come to you with a lil fanfic based on a concept i’ve been toying with in RP: what if scoff and scout actually met before scoff was a big mobster

Fandom: MSPA/Mobsterswitch Pairings: hopeless SSPS

When you first met him, he was different.

You and he were regulars at the same bar. It was a hole in the wall, the kind of place so thick with smoke that you felt like you could cut the air with a knife. The bartenders sold all sorts of things on the side, and the bathroom stalls had no doors, but the drinks were the cheapest in town. Sometimes there would be karaoke and you could have a good laugh.

He was always chatty, talking to–and flirting with–anyone who gave him a chance. Eventually he saw that chance with you, and invited you out with him on a job. You were broke as hell–you always were–so you agreed, even knowing who he worked for. You were as crooked as anyone else in this town.

He asked your name, but you told him you were between names.

“Jus’ call me SS,” you said.

He nodded, saying he was in a similar boat. He said to call him Sol in the meantime.

He was handsome, and that’s why you ever gave him the time of day. He was well-dressed, or at least, was trying to be–his clothes were well-fitted but worn. His eyes were brilliantly green, which almost distracted you from how tired they looked. He had a tie in a matching green, the only splash of color on his otherwise monochrome attire.

He needed into a building. He had the security codes, but not a key. The garage door could open a little without it, but not enough for him to fit through.

He’d picked you because you were small.

Still, once the two of you were inside, he cracked the cash registers open and told you to take what you wanted. You’d stuffed your pockets full before you realized he wasn’t doing the same. Instead, he was kicking whatever papers he could onto the floors. Then, he took a bottle of vodka–he’d snatched it from the bar on your way out–and started spreading the fluid around on the kindling he’d spread.

You realized what he was doing.

“You ain’t gotta be here for this part.” He winked at you while he produced a matchbook.

You ran for it while he struck a match. You’ll never forget the way he laughed as the building went up. For the next week, you pored over the newspapers, afraid that there would be a headline about someone being inside that building and dying. No such headline ever ran.

The next time you met, he was less manic. He was halfway through a bottle, face down on the bar counter. You pulled up a stool and asked him if he’d run out of things to burn.

“Fuck you,” he replied. “‘M so fuckin’ sick of it.”

“Sick’f what?”

He explained how he’d been working for Kingpin since pretty much the day he rolled in from the wasteland. Kingpin was a miserable boss. Sol kept trying to rise the ranks, but never made it past grunt work.

“I enjoy lightin’ a fire’s much’s the next guy,” he said. “But it ain’t all I wanna do. I was built t’ lead.”

“Y’ can always start your own gang,” you say, before taking a drink. “Not that it’d last that long. Kingpin ain’t exactly friendly to competition.”

“Start my own ‘n knock Kingpin down a few pegs,” he said, miserably.

You drank together that night, commiserating over your various woes. You and he had a lot in common. You hated the same things. You were both miserable with your lots in life. You both desperately needed a change.

Drinking with him became a nightly event. You found yourself looking forward to it, always looking for some event in your day that would be a good story to tell him. Vandalism and petty theft never felt so good before him. You felt less frustrated with life when you were with him–less worthless. He would shower you with compliments, whether it was over your knifework or how easily you could pick a pocket. He even complimented your looks. It made you question his taste, but you knew he was earnest. You could feel the sincerity in the gentle way he kissed you, and looked for any opportunity to put his hands on you.

He first made his offer sitting on your bed, smoking a cigarette. He was naked but for a strip of your blanket strewn over his lap, and it took you a moment to realize he’d spoken at all. You were too busy counting the scars on his tan skin.

“I said–” he said, with exaggerated annoyance. “We’re goin’ for it. I got a group, we’re gonna take Kingpin on.”

“You’re gonna get killed,” you replied, as you held a hand out.

He passed you the cigarette, and you took a deep drag as he spoke.

“Ain’t gonna pretend that ain’t a risk. Hell, I won’t even ask ya’ t’ join me.”

You breathed out, letting the smoke waft above you. “Good, ‘cause there’s no way in hell.”

“But if’n we do it,” he said, carefully. “I’ll give ya’ a job. You’ll have a place with us.” Then, his voice smaller, “With me.”

You threw a pillow at him and made fun of him for being a sap. He laughed and played along, and the both of you ignored the hollow pits in your stomachs as you pretended that emotions and sentiment were bullshit that you didn’t care about.

You started to see him less. Days would go by without him making an appearance at the bar, and he rarely answered his phone. He was always apologetic–there was just so much going on, he told you, and he didn’t want to drag you into it. Days became weeks. Eventually he stopped answering his phone altogether. The last time you saw him at the bar, he looked haggard. He kissed you, hard and fast, and told you,

“I promise. When this’s done, I’ll have a job for ya’. No more bein’ underfoot. It’ll be you ‘n me at the top.”

“Yeah,” you said, not believing it at all. “You ‘n me.”

His kiss left an acrid taste on your lips. Maybe it’s what death tastes like.

After he was gone, you spiraled. Every day you became more sure that he was face down in a ditch, and every day you went a little more apeshit. Rock bottom found you in a holding cell downtown, counting your bruises when Deadeye Detective came by to say hello.

You knew each other back on Prospit. During the war. You weren’t close, but you knew each other well enough for you to feel ashamed at him seeing you like this.

He bailed you out, and he got the charges dropped. He knew a few people, was able to pull some strings. He saved you that night. Not just from your legal troubles, but from yourself. He offered you a job, helped you clean up your mess of a life. Soon enough you were frequenting different bars, with different friends, and you weren’t staring at that empty space on the bar counter anymore.

It was a year before you saw him again. It wasn’t in person.

He was on the TV in your office, and it took you a moment to process. The news anchor referred to him as Peccant Scofflaw, an up and coming real estate mogul. He was well dressed, and his suit looked brand-new, tailored, sharp. He had a fresh haircut and a clean shave. His green eyes seemed brighter than before, and the tie was brighter to match.

He smiled broadly, and every movement was smooth, calculated, charming. Like the version of him you knew was a rough stone that now had been polished into something gleaming and beautiful and utterly unrecognizable.

His skin was grey. Suddenly you could taste his acrid goodbye kiss all over again. You’d heard stories about the Dersites’ dark gods, but you’d never actually…

“That’s him,” Deadeye said.

You were bewildered at Deadeye recognizing him, and wondered whether Dee knew about this guy from your past, until he continued.

“This Peccant Scofflaw is the one who took over Kingpin’s organization. Responsible for Kingpin’s disappearance, too. Allegedly.” He adds the allegedly in a way that meant that he knew damn well that his accusations were true.

“He’s…” You pause, trying to settle on the right thing to say. “Grey.”

Deadeye nodded, flipping through his papers. “It seems he and his accomplices made deals with the Terrors. All of them have powers of some kind. Can only imagine that’s what let them get anywhere near Kingpin.”

Deadeye, it seemed, had been following Scofflaw’s meteoric rise. Scofflaw and his friends had been methodically killing Kingpin’s closest allies, bribing cops, making friends downtown. Dee had already had a few run-ins with them as of late, and he made a point to know what hazards his men would encounter in the future.

This was a hazard that seemed all but unavoidable now, he said. Butting heads with Peccant Scofflaw was going to be the name of the game soon enough.

When you got home that night, you lay in bed for hours, staring at the ceiling. He was alive. You’d mourned him and he was alive the whole time.

He actually made it. He did what he set out to do. And meanwhile, you…

When a letter arrived later that week, you weren’t surprised. It had been slipped under your door, a black envelope with “for SS” written on the front with neon green ink. The paper inside just said:

Club Twilight. Usual time. Show this letter to the bouncer.

P.S.

When quitting time came, you declined your co-workers’ offers to hang out and went out into the night alone. You walked the whole way there, trying to think of what to say to him. Trying to anticipate how he’ll react to what you are now, how you’ll react to what he is now.

Club Twilight wasn’t new, but the name was. Some time ago it had been branded differently, something hoity-toity and regal. It had remodeled recently, under new management, and it occurred to you now who the new management obviously was. It had always been a popular place for the city’s well-to-do to drink, dance and exclude anyone who didn’t meet their standards, but it’d gained a new lease on life with its younger, hipper new ownership.

Sure enough, flashing the letter gets you right in, despite the long line of wannabe elites queued up at the entrance. You’re escorted past the bar and the dancefloor to a private booth. It’s quieter here, the music dulled so that it can’t impede conversation. He’s waiting for you there. He looks exactly as he did on television, and his smile is tight and controlled as he thanks the bouncer for showing you here. He asks the bouncer to fetch him drinks. Soon enough, you had a glass of the most expensive bourbon in town sitting in front of you.

Once the bouncer is gone and it’s just the two of you, his posture shifts. His smile becomes more like the one you’re used to, and when he looks you in the eye you get that old familiar fluttering feeling in your stomach.

“Surprise!” he says, and he reaches over to give you a little shove. “Didn’t think I could do it, didja?”

You shake your head, chuckling. “I thought y’ were dead. Started wonderin’ if I should hold a, I dunno, a funeral or somethin’.”

“Didn’t mean t’ worry ya’,” he said, before taking a drink. “Things got dicey. Had t’ cut contact with anyone not in my circle. Kingpin woulda’ killed anyone he thought I’d miss.”

There were so many things you wanted to ask. Why did he do it? Why was it so important? What did he have to do to get all of this? What is he willing to do to keep it? Why couldn’t he just stay with you? Why weren’t you enough?

What you actually said was, “Yeah, okay.”

“But I did it!” he continues, not missing a beat. “Th’ old man’s dead ‘n buried, ‘n I’m in charge now. At the rate we’re going, we’ll have the whole city consolidated under us within a month, and–”

“‘We’?”

“My guys, you know! I toldja I had guys. We call ourselves th’ Twilight Scoundrels. ‘Sa cool name, right?”

You nod.

He tells you about them. He talks about them with a level of affection you couldn’t help but envy. He’s allowed to have friends, obviously, and you recognize some of their names having come up in conversation long before all this started. But this whole time, they got to be part of his life, and you got shoved to the side. He invited them to his stupid suicide mission, and not you.

Not that you would have said yes. You would have, in a heartbeat.

The night goes on, and he continues talking about everything he’s done, that he’s doing, that he plans to do. More hospitals, more museums, concert halls. Culture. It sounds amazing, when you don’t think too hard about where the money comes from. You used to not think about that sort of thing–hell, even when you knew, you didn’t care.

You weren’t that person anymore.

“Ah–I forgot t’ even ask!” He says, finally, breaking away from his self-aggrandizing reverie to focus his attention on you. “Didja ever settle on a name?”

“Yeah,” you say.

“Well?” he leans in closer. “C’mon, don’ keep me in suspense!”

“Scout,” you say, shrugging. “Snooping Scout.”

He claps. “It’s great. I love it. I can do so much with that, I c’n call ya’ Snoopy, Snoop, Scoot, Scooter…”

“Aw jeez, Sol, don’ start with that.”

“It’s adorable, I will not be tamed, ‘n also,” his voice becomes very firm. “I ain’t Sol no more. It’s Scoff now.”

“Scoff,” you repeat.

“Anyway,” he says, shifting his tone and posture. “I dunno if you’ve noticed, but I got ulterior motives in bringin’ ya’ here. I made ya’ a promise, after all.”

He was making his pitch. That’s what all of this was. Laying out your coworkers, giving you the mission statement.

“Whaddya’ say?” He asked, smiling ear to ear. “Wanna be a Twililght Scoundrel?”

You smiled too, but it wasn’t the same as his.

“Listen, Scoff–” He started to pick up on your tone the minute you started, and his expression wavered. “I jus’ wanted t’ see ya’ again. It’s a temptin’ offer, but I gotta turn it down.”

“Y’ sure?” He insisted, reading your face carefully. “I mean, this’s a dream offer. The guys’ll love ya’. Most’f ‘em, anyway.”

You shook your head.

“Nah. I got a good team now. I promised ‘em I’d stick to the straight ‘n narrow.”

He threw himself back in his booth seat, covering his face with one hand. “Straight? Y’ went straight? Tell me it ain’t so. What’d y’ do that for?!”

“For gettin’ caught too many times, that’s what for.” You drank again.

“Baby, darlin’.” He flung his hands in the air. “You ain’t never gettin’ caught again! Th’ police all answer t’ me now!”

You chuckled a little, and finished your drink. “Thanks. I mean, it sounds great, but it ain’t for me. I jus’ wanted t’ give ya’ my answer in person.”

He shifted in his seat, becoming more rigid, closed off. He folded his arms on the table, in front of him, and he stopped meeting your gaze.

“... Yeah. Sure. Fine,” he says. He motioned with one hand, and soon, the bouncer was back. “Take my guest back outside.”

And just like that, you were back on the street.

It wasn’t long before you saw him again. You and the boys had gotten a lead that the Scoundrels were planning a break-in. You caught them as they were splitting up to make their getaway. You and Deadeye took off after Scofflaw as Demo and Brawler followed Innovator and Delinquent. Scofflaw darted into a dark alley, and once the three of you were deep enough in, he stopped running and turned to face his pursuers. He had a grin on his face as he looked up at Detective.

And then he saw you.

He stared at you a moment, his smile slipping. His gaze returned to Detective, then you, then Detective again, then you.

Then he laughed.

It was a laugh you hadn’t heard in years. The same laugh you heard that first night, as he set that building ablaze. He held his arms out at his side, and with a quick tensing of his hands, purple flame erupted from his palms.

When you first met him, he was different–but the makings of Peccant Scofflaw were there from day one.

#mobsterswitch #problem sleuth #midnight crew #mspa #writing #fanfiction

22 notes · View notes

royallyprincesslilly · 1 year

Text

Sneak Peek of your next treat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Another Lewis denial?"

"You know it!”

You rolled your eyes. When these two decided to gang up on you, you didn't stand a chance. Rolling off the bed, you scurried into the ensuite to grab the rest of your beauty items to pack. Though you knew where each item was, you took your sweet time, not wanting to hurry back into the bedroom for your friends to continue the current conversation.

The vibration of your phone tucked into your front tie top buzzed against your breast. You knew it wasn’t a good thing to keep your phone against your breast, but it was usually always the most convenient place for you.

MSG Lewis: Wheels up at 8 no if, ands, or buts, I’m not even playing, kitten.

You rolled your eyes then tapped out a reply. Before you sent yours another text from him came in.

MSG Lewis: I’m not afraid to leave your ass behind.

“Ha,” you said to yourself.

Opting for a voice reply, you went off.

“Listen you may be a fucking eight-time championship holder and feeling yourself hard over this newly long awaited and much deserved title but don’t get it twisted. I am the life of this party, have always been the life of this party, and will always be the life of this party. Just sit there looking pretty and expect me when you see me.”

You made sure all your sass and attitude dripped from every single word, then hit send with a smile on your face as you waited for his no doubt equally sass filled response. Sure enough about half a minute later you got his reply, a voice one.

“Put some respect on my name and run me my respect. I am an eight-time title holder, and I don’t take anyone’s shit no matter how beautiful they are. Get your fine ass here on time or else, kitten.”

You heard the words he emphasized and the way his voice oozed of authority and control and your belly clenched. Your head went back to the rumors of his dom kink, and you slumped against the bathroom sink with a sigh. It was just another bit of evidence you had to lock away in the untouchable, unspeakable box of things pretraining to Lewis. The man himself was in this box and definitely classified under untouchable. You listened to the message again and clung to him calling you beautiful and pointing out your fine ass. You sighed again knowing that he would see you taking this long to reply as his victory. The man was competitive in everything.

“Or else what? You know damn well that I’ve got you wrapped around my pinky finger. You ain’t goin nowhere without me and that’s that on that!”

You giggled as you send the voice reply. When you turned there stood Gisella and Nikki both with snarky “I told you so, you’re caught” looks on their faces.

“Oh the foreplay is very telling,” Nikki said.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing your things and walking back into the bedroom.

“Ugh, whatever. He says he’ll leave us if we’re not on time. So let’s try not to get left ladies.”

You disappeared across the way into your closet determined to finish up everything you still had to do. Thirty minutes you were both in the SUV that had been sent for you with your bags loaded in the back finally on your way to the airfield.

On the drive you replied to the last emails from your agent and editor ensuring they knew you weren’t going to be too attached to your emails. Their reminders to have the rest of the chapters for your book completed by the time your returned from this trip made you roll your eyes to the back of your head.

They’d been hounding you for these chapters for three months now. Three months of daily “friendly” email remainders, three months of weekly drop ins to check on” your wellbeing, and monthly sit down meetings that stretched for hours for mapping and plans all centered around this second book that apparently everyone was anticipating. Maybe the anticipation was the reason why you were so reluctant to write it. maybe your stroke of luck with the pen had fizzled, maybe you just weren’t into the idea anymore.

Those were the reasons you gave them when they asked what was taking so long. Those were the PC reasons. You couldn’t very well tell them that your well of inspiration for sex, smut and sultry human connections had dried and caved into the center of the Earth. You couldn’t tell them that you were dry in more ways than one. So instead of exposing yourself in that unfavorable way, you tapped out a very professional response.

Consider it done.

#a long time coming duo 1 #a long time coming one shot #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton #sneak peek

23 notes · View notes

duhragonball · 1 year

Text

Dragon Ball Suprer 107

“Auta, though I regret to be the bearer of bad tidings, I’m afraid I must inform you that our dear friend and comrade Dr. Rota, was recently eliminated.”

“Chugga chugga.”

“I said! That Doc-tor Ro-ta! Was eliminated!”

“Chugga chugga chugga”

“I said--!”

*steam hissing*

“Oh, never mind, you ridiculous oaf!”

*vomits lava everywhere*

Maybe it’s just this particular view of the place, but Champa seems to have a much nicer looking home than Beerus. This is a flashback to the day Frost rejoined Champa’s team. He brazenly asked for a full pardon for all his crimes if Universe 6 won the tournament, but Champa told him he was in no position to make such requests.

So Frost tried to sweeten the pot by offering to embarrass and humiliate Universe 7 specifically. This gets Champa’s attention, as he enjoys taking the piss out of his brother Beerus.

Speaking of that, I don’t get how Beerus and Champa are twin brothers, and their universes are so similar, but the other pairs of universes don’t seem to share anything in common at all. Like, Universes 2 and 11 are similarly related, but Helles and Belmod look nothing alike, and it’s not like U2 has a female version of whatever alien Top is.

Not that I’d want this, I just find it curious.

Back in the present, the Grand Minister gives the Zenos a rundown of how all the teams are currently holding up. I’m not going to go into that, because I spent a lot of time analyzing the stats back in 2017, and I’m not feeling any great need to go over it again. For example, at this point in the tournament, U6 and U7 are tied with the most active fighters. So they’re in the lead, at least for now. And Universes 4 and 11 only have a few fighters left, so they’re in deep trouble if the time runs out before they can throw out enough opponents.

It’s interesting to think about the possible scenarios, but none of them are going to happen, and none of them were likely in the first place. What if there’s a tie? What if Universe 4 takes the lead and no one can find those last two fighters before the clock runs out?

It’s that Universe 4 thing that bugs Tien. When their team showed up, there were only eight fighters visible, but Tien could sense the faint presence of two more. Now, according to the Grand Minister, those two invisible fighters are still active, which could spell big trouble later on. And he’s not wrong to point this out, there’s a whole episode about it later on, but it doesn’t really cause that much of a problem.

Anyway, Universe 3 wants to study the competition more while there’s still a lot of fighters on the board, so their Supreme Kai orders Maji Kayo to pester the Universe 11 group and pick a fight with Jiren. The Kai considers Jiren to be a major threat, and he thinks Maji Kayo’s fluid body will make him sturdy enough to survive the encounter and report his findings. Dyspo jumps in first, though...

And to his credit, Maji Kayo makes short work of Dyspo, even threatening to cut off his ears. So this guy’s a pretty big deal, and he’s a sick fuck on top of that.

Jiren still takes him out like he’s nothing, though. One punch, and Jiren doesn’t even connect. The shockwave alone is enough to knock Maji Kayo out of the ring.

Meanwhile, Frost sees a chance to make good on his promise to Champa and targets Master Roshi, who’s still weak from his efforts earlier.

So Roshi goes for another Mafuba attack, since it worked so well on Dercori earlier.

But Frost is stronger, I think, and the stronger your opponent, the harder it is to execute the Mafuba, which is probably why Roshi misses the bottle. Frost escapes, but this ordeal has given him an idea...

First, Frost spots Vegeta, and shoots at him drawing him in. Vegeta’s all-too eager to throw out Frost. And Frost wants revenge from their last encounter. He claims to have gotten weaker since they last met, which I took at face value when I first watched this episode, but now it’s clear to me that he’s bluffing. Hit said Frost had improved his power while living as a fugitive, so it never made sense to me that he would claim to have gotten soft in this one.

Anyway, it doesn’t matter, because Auta Magetta shows up to even the odds. Also he has molten rocks welded onto his metal ears, so Vegeta can’t insult him into submission. I’m not sure if Frost knew Auta was coming or he planned this ahead of time, or it just worked out. But he threatens to double team Vegeta, and he’s very keen on making sure Roshi can hear that.

So Roshi takes the bait and tries to use the Mafuba on Frost again, but this time Frost is ready for it, and he reverses the attack and redirects it at Vegeta.

Roshi quickly smashes the bottle he was planning to use for this, but Frost doesn’t need it, because he grabbed the other bottle Roshi had set up from the previous attempt. So he puts Vegeta in and stoppers him up.

Roshi is horrified to learn he’s been tricked into taking out one of his team’s best fighters, but there’s nothing he can do about it. Frost shoots him a few times, and all Roshi can do is fire a tiny ki burst, which misses Frost completely.

But Roshi wasn’t trying to hit Frost, he was aiming at the bottle, and when Frost isn’t looking he steers the ki sparkle back around and it blasts off the cap. Uh-oh.

Vegeta gets out and he’s piiiii-iiiissed! First thing he does is zap the crap off of Magetta’s ears and calls him a bunch of mean names. Then he goes after Frost.

But Frost makes a big dust cloud and runs away. I’m pretty sure Vegeta could still find him, but whatever. Vegeta shoves Magetta off the stage and then tells Roshi to jump off too, since he’s too worn out to continue. Roshi doesn’t like it, but he knows Vegeta is right. If he hadn’t been so eager to keep fighting, he wouldn’t have played so easily into Frost’s hands.

Beerus still gives them all shit in the bleachers.

Also, Ribrianne is fighting Goku in this episode, but not much actually gets done with this. They’ll keep going at it next time, though.

Until then, here’s KISS with “100,000 Years”.

youtube

#dragon ball #dragon ball super #2023dbapocryphaliveblog #tournament of power

4 notes · View notes

askthesebastiansmythe-archive · 2 years

Photo

☕ ABOUT SEBASTIAN ÉMERI SMYTHE 💸

AGE & DATE OF BIRTH: Nov 9th

OCCUPATION: owner of a dance studio in NYC & kid instructor

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single, but his parents are trying to marry him off to rich socialites

POSITIVE TRAITS: determined, educated, loyal

NEGATIVE TRAITS: hot headed, competitive, snarky

FAMILY INFORMATION

His family has always been high profile and he’s always felt like he was above other people because of the way he was raised. He got to travel between France and the US, he got to get his education at the fanciest private schools, he got to wear designer clothing and being so well-traveled meant he always sounded so sophisticated, even to himself. His intention was never to become a cocky asshole, but over time it happened anyway and he didn’t even notice. After getting away with everything he did wrong and still being praised because he was charming, handsome, rich, well-connected, and popular it was hard to not get a big head. All it took was the honest truth and he always made people think he was something special, like when he told Blaine about Paris in the Lima Bean on the show. He’s always been able to talk other people into doing things and he always got his way.

Until he couldn’t live that way blindly anymore. It was hard for him when he almost blinded Blaine, but it wasn’t his place to be having a hard time. He was the villain. And selfishly enough, he couldn’t give it up yet. He was too embarrassed, so he continued and pretended he was fine with what he’d done. Someone was in the hospital because of him though, someone that he had really liked. Then Dave was in the hospital too, and he knew that part of that was his fault too, and enough was enough. His pride wasn’t worth someone else’s vision or someone else’s life. He had to turn over a new leaf, and he tried to do so in the most dignified way. Part of him still feels like he’s a little less than his competitors from McKinley, that always seemed to take the high road while he came out smelling like a shitty person. Still, he tried to keep in contact with everyone after graduation and attended every single alumni event that he was invited to.

He didn’t necessarily want to be an attorney forever and he didn’t necessarily want to become one in the first place but with his father’s side of the family being who they are, he felt there was no way around it. He didn’t really tell anyone that he wanted to dance, he just went through with law school because it felt like it applied to him. His specialty as a divorce attorney began as a joke because of his open views on relationships but it has soured him a little on the reality of being with another person. There’s a fear there. He doesn’t think anyone will love him like that, he’s always been a little afraid to show his full true self. There’s always a little bit of the charming socialite mask. At least he didn’t have to become an attorney, while thinking back on the life lessons he had learned by almost being the cause of someone else’s death, he decided that life was too short to play things safe or simply go with what was expected of him. He should be happy, or at the very least he should be productive in making others happy. He could do that in law, but it was a less personable approach, it took longer, and it was so much easier to not go the helpful route and instead take on bad habits again that he decided to not be that. To show his parents that he wasn’t just being lazy, he still graduated. He just opened a dance studio while he worked on school, and by the time he could legally work in law, he had a studio ready to open. His studio has competitive dance teams for all ages and dance classes meant to instruct all ages in specific types of dance, but it also has fun classes, not so serious classes, and shorter programs. There are free classes and programs too, and he runs scholarship programs to give opportunities for the classes and teams that otherwise wouldn’t be an option.

MOTHER: Étiennette Lilou Smythe (French, from France, not royalty but from a socialite family in politics. She ran off the normal path for her family by getting into modeling before she got married and began her own fashion line, which Sebastian modeled for when he was much younger)

FATHER: Frederick Harrison Smythe (American, from the US, similar to Russell Fabray but law centric instead of bible centric. Rich socialites go to him to clean up their messes. He’s the reason Sebastian took on law, Frederick works with and for his own family at his family owned law firm (the Legacy Law Offices of Smythe & Smythe in NYC) that was opened two generations ago and Sebastian should be honored to have a legacy to take on, blah blah blah) Neither parent is abusive or too unhappy with Sebastian for his choices though. His mother is especially soft with him.

SIBLINGS/OTHER IMPORTANT FAMILY: Just his grandparents in France. He used to go see them every Christmas and every summer when he was growing up, then it narrowed to once a year when he got busier and older. They are old money, the kind of people that just feel powerful when you stand near them, but they’re retired and though they live in the city, they all meet at a large cottage in the countryside that the family owns.

HEADCANONS

Everything canon is canon about him really liking being on top and being a bully. Knocking other people down meant he has someone to stand on to get a little higher himself and he honestly didn’t see it as anything serious until he started really hurting people.

People might not understand how his family could have so much influence on what he does as an adult, even after he moved into his own place as a teenager, this is just how it’s always been for him. They traveled back and forth, hosting and attending events, doing things to perpetuate their status financially and socially, and his parents were always his tour guides. They’ve always told him what to do, in the sense that they’ve always been there to guide him though strange, new lands. But they’re also busy people, so their attention was moderately fleeting and therefore incredibly valuable.

He has a partying habit still. It’s not something that he has had time for in years but he still does it anyway. He’s not an alcoholic, but he’s definitely a sex addict (not in the romanticized way, in the real way) and uses the attention he can get for his body to keep him going. He’s not miserable, and he’s even happy a lot of the time, but this habit still lingers and when he’s upset the very first thing he’ll think to do is go out to a club, party, and have sex. He has slipped a few times and gotten a little sloppy at an event his parents took him to, both as a teenager sneaking alcohol illegally and as a fully legal adult. It’s not enough to have been noticeable, his parents got him out quickly enough to cover it up.

He’s the commander and chief of fake it ‘til you make it.

CONNECTIONS

I’d be willing to potentially take on one or two connections for people his parents were/are trying to set him up with.

MERCEDES JONES: The two of them bonded when they met up at alumni charity events and performed together, because Dalton and McKinley were combined in the end for their Glee club competitions, they still perform together. They enjoyed each other’s sass, candor, and talents and ended up talking to catch up, curious about where each other was in life. They’ve both since spoken about wanting to move onto the next phase in life, about really wanting a family in whatever form that looks like. They’ve both also admitted to each other that they think the only way they can have that is probably to be single parents and look for donors/surrogacy.

DAVE KAROFSKY: This man is the single most important person in Sebastian’s development. Even more so than Blaine. After everything that happened, Sebastian was the first person to visit Dave in the hospital. He was there when the other man woke up for the first time. They spoke every day while Dave was in the hospital and that didn’t end when he got out either. Sebastian asked him out and they went on a few dates, with Sebastian doing his absolute best to show Dave the best time and treat him like a Disney Prince. Sebastian had to go to NYC for college though and Dave stayed in Lima. He’s pretty sure that he’s not Dave’s type.

BLAINE ANDERSON: The one that got away, again and again, until he finally let him go--- for the most part. Sebastian has always thought that Blaine was probably the best human being to ever be born on planet Earth. Not a single thing about this man has ever bothered him in any way, he’s pretty sure Blaine painted the sky himself. He is so very kind, so very compassionate, so very talented, and so very set up to be just like Sebastian but he never soured that way. He stayed kind. He would have done anything to get Blaine’s attention in high school, and he did do the ultimate anything in the end; he helped Blaine propose to someone else and then continued through the years to do his level best to support that marriage and not say a word about how he felt himself.

HUNTER CLARINGTON: He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit of a simp for the other man, simply because the inner asshole inside of himself appreciates the asshole inside Hunter. This is the person he’ll casually mention a dilemma he’s having as if he doesn’t want advice, knowing that Hunter will give him the advice without solicitation. They probably could have dated, he would have tried in any other circumstance, but he needed a solid friendship that he wasn’t going to ruin with his hormones.

KURT HUMMEL: He’s honestly not sure where he stands with Kurt. Back in the day, even after he apologized and years after that, Kurt was one of the people that was unsure about him still. When Blaine cheated, the first fear was that it was Sebastian and it was an immediate relief when Blaine said it wasn’t. He had been intending to challenge his way into Kurt’s life with a sort of “I dare you to not like me” moment, but it doesn’t seem necessary or even like it would make sense to do because Kurt has said as much. The slate may be clean, even with a few remarks here and there, but Sebastian is beginning to wonder if Klaine’s marriage is as happy as it seemed to be and he wonders what the truth of that will do to this connection.

NICK DUVAL: Nick owns a bar and Sebastian likes to drink and party, so you can do the math.

THE WARBLERS: Once a Warbler, always a Warbler. That’s all I need to say there.

#glee rp #sebastian smythe #media: about sebastian

5 notes · View notes