#only gives you like 5 tags from old sets now
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Darlin' pt 6
pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt 5
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Romance)
Description: Cooper and Reader feel the effects of the radiation.
Notes: My tags are still goofy I don't know what is going on I am sorry. When I am writing the post your profile comes up and I click on it but then when I post it it doesn't work? Help? You guys may have to just keep an eye on my posts. :(
Cooper still hasn't told us where he is taking us yet. The sun seemed to get extra hot as the day went on. I knew the irradiation of the river was starting to hit me, just like it was the vaultie. We both had sunken, dark eyes and pale skin. Radiation sickness was starting to set in. Cooper made sure I stayed close to him, his eyes only leaving me to bark at the vaultie when she slowed.
"This damn sun," I whined.
Without saying a word, Cooper took off his hat and dropped it on my head. I smiled ear to ear, the idea of wearing his hat filling me with joy. "Thanks, Coop."
His footsteps stuttered at the nickname. Little did I know, it brought back a flood of memories that were long forgotten. "Just don't lose it, darlin'." He mumbled.
The show of affection filled me with a burst of energy, adding some pep to my step as we trekked along in the sand. Eventually, we happened upon a small, derelict town. The old homes were covered almost half up their sides with sand. The houses now were all the same tan color as the ground, a reminder of the harshness of the wastelands. We walked up to a building with "Westside Medical Clinic" written on a big sign out front. As soon as we stopped walking we heard it. The yelling.
"Roger! My name... is Roger!" A voice roared from inside the building.
The three of us exchanged looks before Cooper pushed the vaultie towards the door, making her go first. "Stay behind me, sugar." He said quietly to me.
We slowly continued into the building as the snarling grew closer. The vaultie hesitated, not wanting to get any closer to the danger inside. This caused Cooper to give her another harsh shove. The fear swirling in my stomach made me feel like I was going to throw up. I grabbed onto the back of Cooper's coat for purchase. We finally made our way into the room where the voice was coming from. A man, or a ghoul, was sitting in the sand, mumbling and snarling.
"Hey Rog," Cooper greets him.
"Hey. Hey." the man laughs, relieved to see his friend. "Fancy seeing you here. You out for that bounty, too, huh?"
"Yep," Cooper responds as he knelt in front of his friend.
You all stand there in silence for a bit, listening to Roger snarl and whip his head around.
"Oh, shit," Roger says between wails.
"How you feelin’?" Cooper asks quietly, already knowing the answer.
"Oh... you know," Roger replied. "It's hard out here. Dang smoothies can be so unkind. I see you got some smoothies of your own." He says as he looks over at the vaultie and me in the corner. "That one is cute with your hat on."
I give him a small smile as a blush warms my cheeks. "You like it? I'm thinking of keeping it." I say, trying to lighten the mood.
Roger lets out a gleeful laugh, "Oh, I hope she rubs off on you. Keep her around."
Cooper smiles in response, "Plan on it."
Roger cried out again, ripping the smiles off everyone's faces.
"You're turning," Cooper says reluctantly, he exchanges a worried look with you.
"Yeah maybe, maybe." Roger says on the verge of tears, "Maybe. Hey, you don't happen to have any vials, do you? Just one little puff and I'll be back on my feet. You know I'm good for it." Roger pleaded.
"I'm sorry Roger I am all out," Cooper says, looking sorrowful.
"That's okay. That's okay." Roger mumbles. "Though, um, you and your smooth-faced friends, you um... you might want to clear out before things get ugly."
Roger started to snarl again, he was growing louder and louder. It was horrible to watch. "Is this what will happen to Cooper?" I thought to myself.
"I did okay. 28 years since I first started showing," Roger said, before snarling again. "Oh, hell! Not as long as you are though." He pointed proudly at Cooper, "You've outlasted us all. How long since you first started wastelanding?"
"A long time," Cooper responds while shaking his head.
"That's a lot of vials," Roger said quietly.
"Well I've always been good at making money, Roger." Cooper exhales as he stands up. "Say, you remember how good food used to taste?"
"Yeah, BlamCo Mac and Cheese!" Roger says excitedly.
"Ice Cream and Apple Pie." Cooper countered.
"Hot damn! Apple Pie." Roger said, joy lighting up his face, even making the vaultie smile. "You know my mother used to-"
Before he could finish, Cooper shot Roger threw the head with no warning. I stumbled back in shock, tripping and falling on my butt and landing in the sand.
"Why did you do that?" The vaultie asked with tears in her eyes. "He was sick."
Cooper ignores her and starts making his way toward me while he holsters his gun. My eyes were glued to the man, lifeless on the ground.
"Darlin'." Cooper says pulling me from my thoughts and he crouches in front of me.
I look up at him with weeping eyes. "He...." I trailed off. I didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry," I whispered as the tears started to fall down to my chest.
"Don't be sorry, darlin'. Can you do something for me?" He asked calmly.
"Yeah." I managed to respond between sniffles.
"Wait in the hallway." He replies, rubbing my shoulder reassuringly. I give him a confused look before he starts talking again, "I don't want you to see this."
Realization washes over me. "You gonna eat him?"
"Just - just wait in the hallway." He says as he pulls me up to my feet. "Okay?"
"Okay," I mumble as I slowly make my way out of the room. I lean up against the wall and close my eyes. It's only a minute before I hear the vaultie begging.
"Stop. Stop Stop." The vaultie pleaded, "Please, I know it's hard out here but you don't, you don't have, you don't have to resort to... to..."
"What'd you say your name was?" Cooper asks her.
"Lucy MacLean." The vaultie replies hesitantly.
"MacLean?" Cooper asks a hint of recognition in his voice. "Huh. Well, Lucy MacLean, it ain't all peaches and marmalade left up here, sweetheart. Sometimes a fella gotta eat another fella."
Even from the hallway, I could hear the squishing from whatever he was doing in there. I felt nausea settle into my stomach, whether from the radiation or what Cooper was doing in the other room, I didn't know.
"You know, my vault has endured hardship too," Lucy said, pushing back. In the great plague of '77, everyone had to quarantine, they couldn't work the farms together, people starved. My mother included. My dad dropped to 128 pounds, and he still refused to do anything like this."
Cooper let out a deep chuckle at her words.
"What? What's so funny?" She asked, her voice dripping with venom.
"Well, there's what people say they did and what they really did." Cooper said, his accusation heavy in the air. "I'll bet your daddy was first in line at the cookout. I bet he had a bib with a drawing of his neighbor's ass on there."
"How do you live like this?" Lucy asks. "You obviously know it's wrong you sent her to the other room. So how do you do it? Why keep going?"
I open my eyes slowly at the mention of me. I didn't know if I could ever live like that, so Lucy's question piqued my interest as well. There was a heavy silence as I heard Cooper's footsteps making his way across the room.
"Well, one good question deserves another," Cooper responds, his voice was dark, sending a shiver down my spine. "Why the fuck am I doin' all the work? Now come on vaultie, ass jerky don't make itself."
This was a side of Cooper that I had not seen since the night we met. Ruthless. Cruel. It made me wonder was this who he really was. Or was the sweetness he has shown me his true self? It was probably a little bit of both. The silence in the building was deafening. It was a moment before I heard Lucy's soft footsteps in the sand.
"She is actually gonna do it." I thought to myself in horror, letting out a soft gasp.
Once they made their way out of the room, Lucy's hands were covered in blood and she had an empty expression on her face. She was clearly traumatized by what she had to do to Roger. Cooper didn't look at me as they made their way past. "Come on, darlin'."
-
It felt like forever since the incident with Roger, but it was hard to forget as his skin hung from Cooper's pack. The three of us hiked in silence, tension had returned to Cooper and me as neither of us knew what to say to the other. Cooper had started coughing some time ago. This filled me with dread, we needed to get him some Radaway fast. Let alone, myself. I was getting sicker by the minute as I struggled with the poisoning from the river. My feet dragged in the sand behind Cooper as I struggled to keep up.
Cooper dipped his canteen into some water pooled in an old barrel. My chest filled with jealousy. I ran out of water some time ago and the lack of food and water was becoming painful. He made eye contact with Lucy as she watched him drink. This wasn't the first time he had teased her about her lack of water. Desperate for a sip, she fell to her knees in front of the water, scooping it into her mouth.
"Now you're gettin' it." Cooper mused as he watched her. "How does that golden rule jibe with what's goin' through your head right now?"
"What are you?" Lucy asked angrily.
"Oh I'm you, sweetie, just give it a little time." He responded.
"Because of the radiation poisoning?" I asked, my voice cracking from dehydration.
Cooper turned to me with a serious look on his face, "Not gonna happen to you darlin'."
I gave him a small nod before I squeaked out, "Okay." I trusted him completely.
As a coughing fit took over the ghoul, Lucy took her chance to make a run for it. I was torn between chasing after her and staying to comfort Cooper. Cooper started waving after her, signaling for me to chase her.
"Hey! Stop!" I yelled as I ran after her.
As we rounded the corner, she stopped to stare at the huge crater in the ground. I ran up next to her as I also marveled at the sight. I had never seen anything like that before. Suddenly, Cooper's lasso secured itself around Lucy's midsection as he pulled her down onto the ground.
"Where you think you're goin'? You ain't goin' nowhere." Cooper said as he stepped over her, leaning down to grab her face.
Lucy immediately responded by biting onto his finger and ripping it off with her teeth.
"Oh my god?!" I gasped out as I ran toward them. "Cooper."
He continued to keep his attention on Lucy. "There you are, you little killer." He said as he lifted her to her feet before grabbing ahold of her matching finger and cutting it off with his knife. "Now that right there is the closest thing to an honest exchange that we've had so far." He pocketed her finger before reaching down to pick up his own. "Here darlin'," He said as he handed me the rope that was tied to Lucy.
I hesitantly took it as I watched him rummage around in his pack for a small rag to wrap his finger in.
"You don't hurt, right?" I asked him.
"Don't feel a thing, sugar." He said smiling as he took the rope back from me.
This exchange seemed to have depleted Lucy's resolve completely as she quietly obeyed from there on out. It wasn't long after that that we reached an old building with the word SuperDuperMart written on it. It was surrounded by a broken-down fence and had some old cars in the front of the building. I was nervous, but Cooper's confidence calmed me as we approached the building.
"Transaction," Cooper said as he pressed on some sort of communication device. He threw his bag into the dirt next to him. He looked tired.
"Yes?" Someone responded.
"Two month's supply of vials. Exchange one female mint condition." He stated before looking over at Lucy's hand, "Near mint condition."
"Condition grading requires physical evaluation. Please send her in." The voice responded, there was something strange about the voice that I couldn't recognize. It almost didn't sound human.
The door to the building buzzes and slowly opens. Lucy watched it with concern evident in her eyes, "What's in there?" She asked.
"You're about to find out," Cooper replies as he cuts the rope that bound her wrists.
"You're selling me?" Lucy asks, a look of disbelief on her face.
Cooper pulls a gun from his hip and cocks it, "You got problems out here too, sweetheart. Best you try your luck behind that door. Go on." He says as he shoves her.
I watch on from behind Cooper as Lucy shuffles her way into the building, giving a nervous look back before she enters.
Once she enters, Cooper deflates. He was obviously putting on a show for her. Pretending he wasn't as sick as he really was. "Y/n?"
"Cooper?" I ask breathlessly.
Instead of responding, the ghoul collapsed.
"Cooper!" I yell out as I shake him. His eyes are open and he's still awake but for some reason, he was not able to move.
I pushed the button he was using to communicate with the man inside the building. "He can't wait he needs it now!" Only to get no response. "We will give you another person! A female near mint conditon." I say, describing myself.
Cooper whispered out, "No." I could barely hear him.
I crouch down next to him and place his hat next to him, "It's my turn to take care of you." I declared, giving him a sad smile.
I took his gun and tried to shoot the door to break it. I had never used a gun before, so it took me a minute or two to figure out. The glass, however, appeared to be bulletproof.
"Shit," I mumbled before placing the gun on the ground.
I then decided to try and pry the door open with no such luck. I run between the cars around us, searching for anything I can use to open the door. In one of them, I find a crowbar. "Yes!" I yell happily as I run back to the door. I wrestled with it for a while before I finally was able to get the crowbar inside, finally, I had some progress. I yelled out in frustration as I tried to open the door. It was the heaviest thing I have ever felt in my life. Moving it just an inch took more strength than I had, especially in my state.
After a couple minutes of struggling, I collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. I looked over at Cooper only to see he hadn't loved an inch. "Cooper?" I call out as I crawl towards him. I sit next to him and gently lift his head onto my lap, rolling him onto his back. "You'll be okay," I say quietly before looking up at the door. I was hoping that soon they would come out to give him the vials he was owed. The silence felt like it had been going on forever when there were suddenly gunshots coming from inside the building. I help Cooper a little closer, afraid and confused. I grabbed his gun again and held it close to my side.
"I've got you, Coop," I whispered to him.
The building then went silent again. There was a moment before Lucy strolled out the door, covered in blood.
"Lucy? What happened?" I gasp.
"They were going to harvest my fucking organs!" She yelled angrily as she sauntered over to us.
I shakily hold up my gun, causing her to stop in her tracks.
"He doesn't get these, he turns into one of those? That how it works?" She asked, holding up a couple vials.
I lower the gun and start begging. "Please, Lucy."
She crouches down next to him and contemplates for a moment before saying to Cooper, "I may end up looking like you... but I'll never be like you." Before getting up, she gently puts some vials in my hand. "Golden rule, motherfuckers."
"Thank you! Thank you so much!" I cry out happily as I start rummaging through Cooper's pockets searching for his inhaler. "I've got you, I've got you.." I kept repeating as I shakily put the vial in the inhaler and hold it up to his mouth. It takes a couple tries, but ultimately, he gets ahold of it and breathed in the contents. I make a happy squeak as he starts to move again.
He lets out a soft wheeze before saying 'Why the hell would you do that?"
"What?" I asked him confused.
"You were going to fucking sell yourself? For me?" He states angrily as he sits up to a sitting position.
"Well-" I start.
"Well, nothing. Never do that again." He shouts as he stands, pulling me up by my collar. The fear on my face softened him as he released my shirt with a sigh, "I ain't worth it, darlin'."
"You are to me," I say quietly. "You are never getting rid of me."
He lets out a small laugh as he smiles wearily, his resolve dimishing. "You are way too good for me, sugar."
"Well too bad, Cooper. You've got me." I say as kiss him on the cheek.
Just as I was pulling away he grabbed hold of my hip "Come here." He says as his lips crash into mine.
I let out a squeak in surprise before I started to return the kiss. It was sloppy and heated, filled with pent-up emotions. It was everything I wanted.
Tag list: @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @topiramategreeable @whizbang-cap @sitkafay @lightan117 @eykismyfav @ajeff855 @madelinealexandra @justme12200 @sihlaryn @raviolisenpai @ellabellabunny123 @impossessedbyjeongyeon @leviathanleva @v3lv3tf0x @judgementdays-girl @savanahc @booksbabes @gauky76 @green--beanie
#cooper howard#the ghoul fallout#cooper howard x reader#the ghoul x reader#fallout tv series#fallout
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@svtsource carat revival 2024: Picking Favourites and Fights
↳ Bias: DK | insp.
#seventeen#svt#caratrevival24#dokyeom#dk#seokmin#i tried#yayayayayayayay look at me go!!#i now have (almost) 3 sets for the prompts 😭 where is this motivation coming from#and i finished this one in just oneeee!!!!!! day!!!!!#thank u carat revival 😫#i didn't really know where i was going with this set but i've wanted to use that set as insp for so long#so i knew i wanted to do that#and then i'm always ALWAYS thinking about that dk quote#and then have also been thinking of doing a dk as tumblr tags set but it's hard bc freaking tumblr#only gives you like 5 tags from old sets now#stuff you tumblr#so yeah it's kind of just a mix of all my ideas and thoughts lol#i think it turned out alright!!#almost didn't get there because of the colouring but hey just chuck on a b&w gradient and it's all good
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All i can think about is rafe cameron buying you stupidly expensive lingerie sets for christmas😵💫 and then after breakfast he asks you to model them🤭
SANTA BABY ♡
gettin me in the festive spirit hehehe this made me wanna spend xmas with the cameron’s so bad :((
cw: christmas duh, family bonding time, i aged Wheezie down to be like 6 years old bc i think it would be cute idk LMAOOO , suggestive themes but nothing too crazy ❀
At his core, Rafe Cameron liked to think he was a family man. He’d often flip out, misbehave, and shit talk his family members it’s true, but Christmas was a time he liked to put it all behind him (Atleast until the new year starts, and he can start up his usual BS)
As you can imagine, Christmas at the Cameron’s was something extravagant. Humungous white christmas tree with silver decorations at the centre of the house, the outside of the house decked with lights that required enough power to start up 3 yachts, fake snow on the porch and Frank Sinatras Christmas album playing round the house at each corner. The years had only softened Ward, and whilst he could be cruel, hard on Rafe and borderline forgetful of Wheezies existence — Christmas was where he shone brightest, just wanting to do right by his kids and now, you, his sons girlfriend.
Receiving presents from the family was a whole different ballgame to your usual Christmas at home, Ward having grinned ear to ear when he handed you the box with the Tiffany’s heart tag charm bracelet glittering under the Christmas lights of the early morning (Wheezie being Wheezie woke everyone up at 6AM sharp.) Rafe, who’d insisted you’d curled right up to his side on the couch wearing his robe resisted an eye roll, his dad always having to out do him, but you seemed elated and he felt his heart warm.
They went all out, Rose handing you a literal 90’s Blumarine runway piece she’d simply overheard you talking Rafes ear off about, the next 5 minutes spent by you and Sarah fawning over it. Sarah’s gift was next, a set of SKIMS dresses you’d been saving to your Pinterest which she couldn’t help but notice, and of course Wheezie proudly handing you a glittery macaroni necklace she’d crafted you at school, which you had no choice but to act like it was the best gift of all.
Come Rafe’s turn, he simply offered his family a smile and patted your side, turning his head to look at you. “I’ve got her presents in my room, figured I’d give it to you privately.” He teases, ignoring Sarah’s ‘Barf’ comment from her cross legged position on the floor beside her little sister.
The family dispersed for a little while, Sarah helping Wheezie set up her new toys on the carpet infront of the tree, Rose and Ward going to start up the food in the kitchen (Ward insists on cooking everything themselves instead of having the chefs do it, because it was tradition.) Before you could wander in there and offer your help, you were being pulled back gently by the arm into your fluffy robe clad boyfriend wearing a poorly masked excited smile. “What, you don’t want your present from me?”
He slides a box from under his bed when you get up to his room again, covered with thin pink gift paper to hide the logo. He sits on his chair, robe falling between his legs and bare knees exposed outwards. “C’mon, sit on santas lap.” He grins and you mirror him, skipping over, happy and spoiled and perching on his leg. He puts the box in your lap and you peel away the paper to see the Agent Provocateur logo with the iconic black ribbon. You widen your eyes at him as if to say ‘Okaaaay, good job’ before wedging your fingertips carefully beneath the cardboard lip and lifting it, seeing 5 sets before you that was perfectly accustomed to your taste.
You remember your trip to the city with Rafe, it was business of course — but you were happy to tag along and walk alongside him watching him handle things for you and his family. You’d spotted the fancy lingerie store, practically pressing yourself up against the glass of the window as you look inside rambling about how you had so many of the sets saved to your Pinterest, pointing out each with your finger smushed to the glass. Rafe nodded distractedly, phone pressed to his ear, leaning on his hip in his gridded shirt and khaki pants that fit too good, before gesturing to you with his thumb that the two of you needed to get moving again, or else you’d be late to the appointment with a buyer. You pout and peel yourself away from the store.
But that was like what, September? Did he go back and buy it all for you? Order it once he’d returned home with you? You’d know Rafe to hold a grudge, but didn’t know his memory served in a positive manner too. “Rafe…” You coo, plucking out the sets and holding them up to admire the intricate lace detailing, spotting matching garters and whatever else you’d mentioned laying in the box. The thought of him fumbling through your underwear drawer trying to figure out your bra size made you giggle, wrapping an arm around his neck in an appreciative squeeze.
“How’d you remember?” Your voice was high in awe, wanting to hold on to this sweet side of Rafe forever.
“Please, I pay attention sometimes y’know.” He smirks modestly, eyes on the box as he admires his work. “So you like it? Yeah?” His hands finding your hips and giving them a soft squeeze.
“Love it, Rafey.” It comes out muffled, because you’re busying yourself with pressing big wet kisses to his cheek, and then eventually his mouth. He pulls away a fraction, lips still brushing yours and eyes cracking open.
“Gonna try it all on for me though, right?” He drawls in that classic Rafe way that you can never say no to and you nod so vigorously you nearly headbutt him. He pats your butt with a pleased hum and pecks you once more. “Atta girl.”
#anon#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron fluff
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my angel baby (part 5)
(angel w/ angel daughter reader)
(caution!!!!!: mild descriptions of violence)
(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hotel. angel reader resembles a fawn.)
(tags: @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @just-here-reading @avitute @iam-d3ad-ins1de @des-deswain5621 @xephieeee @glowymxxn @potaturkey17 @insomniacfigure @pooplyface1423 @mo-0-o @thekanrojimitsuri2 @nevermorekisses @wildfire153 )
My lovely editor<333: @kruncher
You were now in Rosie’s Emporium.
In Cannibal Town.
God.
In absolute shambles you were.. if it were in any other place it would be embarrassing seeing your state but considering the drastic circumstances and absolute 180 in the changes of temperatures, colors, smells, energy and even uncovered emotions that you haven't felt since you were a human finally coming out of the shadows and resurfacing, it all simply felt too much and was overwhelming your psyche.
Yet despite this— you knew you had to tough this out.
But here you were, gentle hands trembling and holding a cup of.. tea.
At least you really hoped it was tea.
“Now sweetie what in the unholy world are you doing down here? Hm?
Now now don’t keep me in suspense, if it helps any I’m not going to let anyone else’s filthy hands get on your pure little self!
Oh and me included, minus the filthy hands, mine are quite taken care of.”
This lady only made you cower a bit more simply by talking. Her sharp teeth and this confident air around her only intimidated you more.
If that’s the case.. how’d you even get in this building? Surely you had enough time to run from her in the middle of it..
Well, it's simply because she kept you from getting eaten by yet an oncoming crowd that saw the interaction with you and this apparent 'Susan' to which they seemed to have taken the old lady’s comment a bit.. too much to heart.
Their claws and baring mouths full of sharp bone, tongues salivating in wanting to try a taste of your fresh golden blood that gave off a sweet scent to them from afar.
She managed to scurry them all off with a few demands and a set of sharp words of her own, keeping you safe from becoming cannibal food for the day and honestly you'd rather be on this lady's good side if she had that kind of power to drive away the cannibals the way she did.
Your wing was even cleaned and bandaged by her despite your constant flapping in distrust and fear when she came near, feathers sprawling everywhere as if several pillows were ripped open in a kind of violent pillow fight. You were seated at a table with two chairs facing each other on each side, a bit farther back in the emporium.
“…Promise you won’t eat me, miss..”
The lady smiled fondly, her expression looking like she’s smiling towards a young child scared of the big wide world. She seemed to be genuine and true with her actions but you just really wanted to get to the hotel as soon as you could..
“Of course little thing, I promise I won’t.
Oh and where are my manners! The name's Rosie, sweetheart, I own the Cannibal Town and I lead the Cannibal Colony. Absolutely pleased to meet you."
You looked up at her with eyes full of fear and a hesitance to trust her, to give her any information at all about your circumstances.
But you weren’t raised to lie.. maybe twisting the truth wouldn’t hurt much? Keeping a few things under the rug?..
“Nice to meet you too miss Rosie..you may call me-- uh- ______.
Look I’m.. Im just looking to get back home. I heard Charlie Morningstar can help since she was in heaven awhile ago and she's the Princess of Hell, I must speak with her soon..”
The woman’s face brightened up like the sun with her sharp-toothed smile widening in remembrance. Spooking you out a tad..
“Charlie Morningstar! A real sweet thing that girl, adorable little blonde. Just a few months ago she came about and managed to convince my town of misfits to help her in preparing to defend the hotel against the angels! My goodness did she sweep them off their feet!
But yes, I know exactly where her hotel is! I can take you there as well, not a long stroll from here I'm sure. Oh but.. "
She paused with the back of her hand gently grazing your spread injured wing, it recoiling back at her touch.
"Wouldn't be surprised if any other wild sinner would want to hunt you down for sport, so maybe a nice stroll would be out of the question."
Her pale hand then moved to hold the end of her chin, the other resting on her hip as the gears in her heard started moving to find a safer passage to the hotel for you to get there.. her piqued interest in you has her wanting to see you advance a bit to see what potential you could have in this entire quarry between the both worlds at war.
"Aha! Perhaps we could have you hide inside one of those delivery carriages the townspeople have been taking in and out here to bring materials and food to the hotel. That way you avoid being seen by any potential eyes that could bring bad luck to you."
She walked up towards the large window illuminating the inside of the emporium as well as the two of you with light from Hell's pink and red hues that brighten the entirety of the realm. Her eyes now searching for a particular large object and... voila! She found it right across the town square and standing right in front of a local shop.
"Oh isn't this just perfect! There is one right there, the timing couldn't be more convenient."
You inhaled a quick breath and exhaled it as fast as it came, somehow still incredibly nervous being in a small space with this woman. Oh geez..
But you couldn't exactly complain since you did contribute in having yourself in this situation.
"So.. could we perhaps go.. now? I just.. want to head home as soon and safe as possible ma'am.."
She then suddenly turned to look at you, dress twirling and the feathers on her hat swaying in a way that indicates their movements could barley keep up with hers.
"Oh but of course! Considering half of the town's population is working on the hotel I must visit and check up on them as much as I can. I also must visit a dear ol' friend of mine, real gas that man is.
Well, then let's hop to it now shall we? We better hurry up while our tool of transportation is still here."
Your ears peaked up in slight delight at the fact that you're actually going to be heading over to the hotel now! So soon as well! This saves you so much more time, effort, and blood in trying to find the place you just knew you had to thank the woman in dark fuchsia and gray for taking you all this way. A little voice couldn't help but nag at you at how too convenient this all is.
Too bad you didn't think too much into that.
"Y..Yes! Yes ma'am!" You got up from your seat and set down your cup saucer on the table and scrambled to catch up to her and her pace with your heart pumping in your chest.
Both of you strolled across the Cannibal Plaza towards and up to the local shop with two large delivery carriages that seemed to lean on to a more older style, with them seemingly from the 1900s and were designed as if they were to hold containers like dairy and such and even people, it includeda large window on the driver's seat where they could peak in by turning their backs and looking down.. oh and it'd be a crime to not mention the horses! Although they seemed more undead and violently volatile like their cannibal owners they still were a nice touch.
Rosie and you approached them, Rosie with more confidence and you.. the opposite. "Walter, George," she spoke, an air of casualness persists "Good to see your faces alive and well! Hope you two got a minute to speak to two esteemed gals?"
The men, named Walter and George, looked up at the two of you with interest.
"Well if it isn't our Rosie! Good to see you as well madame, we sure hope you're enjoying this fine day with glee!" the man, seemingly the one called Walter spoke.
Rosie chuckled, "Oh I sure am, I even found myself a new little friend here! Which leads me in having to ask the both of you for a favor that is of most importance."
The other cannibal that goes by George focused his eyes on her and her words, "Why, anything for our beloved Rosie! What can we do for you ma'am?"
You hid slightly behind Rosie, feeling a strange comfort in just her status and power over rest of her people that made you feel at least a bit more safe from them. You would've continued listening to her conversation with the two men if the distant yet also near sound of explosions echoed across all of Hell which made you jump a little and stifle a gasp ever so slightly.
No one exactly noticed this or acknowledged the sounds too much which got you thinking if this is truly just an everyday thing.. of course it is it's hell but-- geez.. how can anyone live like this! Explosions, blood, guts, corpses, drugs, diseases, infections running rampant and indulged in the way pigs would at old farm food.
Just the thought of that damn severed hand being eaten by that little kid that you stumbled upon earlier just made you sick.. ugh.
Is this what Alastor indulges in as well?.. in his own sick way? Is he truly comfortable in a place like this?..
He must be, if he's murdered as many as he did when he was alive, you didn't dare think how many he's hurt and murdered down here as well.
He truly did belong here, in hell. He was a sadist and a psycho through and through.
And that's what disgusted you the most.
"You hear that dear! One of them is half near empty! Let's head on at once!”
Rosie finally snapped you out of your thoughts, you then just nodded as if you were present in the moment this entire time.
Rosie put a hand behind your back to guide you to the back of one of the delivery carriages and as one man held the doors open for the two of you, you both went in and sat down on the neat little benches on the inside and you couldn't help but to acknowledge the several boxes of nails and other unmentionables that you assumed was meant for the hotel and the people working on it.
Eventually after the doors closed you managed to get light by the large window that brightened up the darkness in your new much smaller environment.
“You know ______ darling, you remind me of someone I know.”
Rosie’s sudden voices spooked you quite a bit, it was a bit out of nowhere as it interrupted the awkward silence between the two of you.
“I.. do?”
She nods as her hands rested on the handle of her closed umbrella, sitting in a most elegant way.
Thank goodness she was versatile, considering the circumstances.
“You remind me of a certain friend I’m going to see when we reach the hotel, you see he’s a very powerful fellow. Charming and helpful but.. what interests me more is how alike you both look..”
It’s starting to click slightly once she said ‘he’.. god you just hoped she wasn’t referring to Alastor -- even though you knew how likely it is that she was.
"Oh? Really?.. " acting oblivious I see, but before you could properly respond to her the sound of a whip could be heard with the loud neighs of a horse following right after, making the carriage start moving.
The ride wasn't too bad, a bit traumatizing sure and you really got a good experience of hell.. more or so decent.
In the middle of your ride you seemed to have passed by a rival gang having a shootout considering the two flying bullets that punctured your vehicle which most definitely tensed you up, yet you tried to relax seeing Rosie's opposite reaction.
Then you heard many yowls and screams of ache and pain, all with their own sounds of bodies falling or the sound of wet and squishiness following the disgusting act of puncturing with some sort of weapon you couldn't even imagine can be heard despite passing by the sounds quickly.
The live murders made you feel queasy in ways that made you almost want to throw up but knew you had to keep your head up high.
God, knowing you can't see anything but still hear everything is absolute torture for your wild imagination.
"Miss Rosie, does this--" a loud boom from afar interrupted you, making you almost shrivel up "--does this.. amount of chaos truly...happen everyday?.. I know it’s.. hell but-- isn't there at least one day where this isn't happening?.."
"Oh it never stops darling. It's hell and it will keep going this way until the end of time. I do apologize though.. seems as if your pure little head isn't used to this kind of environment." Duh. "Oh but then that means you'll surely get along with the princess, if anything she seems to be more fit to be an angel."
You simply huffed as your hands trembled on your lap.
This place was downright unpredictable, and you truly hope you would be able to leave this place right after the war.
You miss home already.
----------------------------------------------------
Finally arriving at the Hazbin Hotel was a real treat.
Not really actually-- pfft.
At least not when you had to be around even more cannibals..
Now you knew why the town seemed a little.. empty. The rest were all here.
Charming of them to be helping out but thanks to 'Susan' you didn't want to interact with any of them.
Walking out of your carriage you felt your heart up in your throat and slowly start to beat at a violent pace. Your anxiety was rising.
Rosie lead you to the front of the hotel doors, seemingly dusting herself off fixing her hair and hat before her hand turned into a fit to knock at the door.
You did the same thing she did, except in a more nervous and trembly way. Alastor was in here.. you were sure of it. You could feel it in your bones and your veins wanting to pop blood from out your ears and nose was seemingly close to happening with how hard the beating of your pulse got once Rosie finally did what you were dreading slightly.
knock, knock.. knock.
'okay _____ stay calm. you knew this was going to be bad, but you're here now.. just breathe, breathe...' you followed your own advice and took an inhale but as you let your shaky exhale out the door was slowly opening.
your eyes were staring dead at the head of the door.
was it Charlie? Vaggie? Alastor?--
"Hello there, just came to deliver someone who was looking for the Hotel. Oh and I came to check up on my cannibals and on Alastor."
Rosie all but confirmed it.
She knew Alastor.
For some reason, your heart sank, not just because she knew Alastor very well apparently but because this feels like a sort of strange betrayal.
You really wished she would've told you.. but if she did you would've freaked out even more-- and maybe she could tell?.. wait-- how would she even know your connection to him anyway??.. looking like a fawn couldn't just straight up tell her..
Yet when you finally looked up at the now open door it was actually none of those three that you knew of.
It was a.. cat? A grumpy lookin' one.
He looked at you and up at Rosie, her arm proceeding to go behind your back to push you gently up closer to the door as if to tell the cat to let you in. His eyes widened at the look at you and your physical attributes.. your wings and halo catching his eye but your fawn like appearance only enhancing the tension in his face a lot more.
He eventually let out a husky sigh with the expression on his face relaxing, his voice being very low and his years were audible in his vocal chords he then turned behind him to loudly announce one single thing from afar:
"You've got company."
He turned back at the two of you and opened the door for you to go through, Rosie guiding you in first.
"He's inside talking to the princess, just walk ahead, take a right and you'll see him." He spoke straight forwardly and serious, it made you feel a little unwelcome. Yet as you walked in you couldn't help but feel those eyes of his stick to you like glue.. you couldn't really blame him-- you were sure they don't see an angel everyday the way you are with hell's environments.
The clicking of Rosie's shoes and the gentle pitter patter of your own gave you goosebumps up your arms, and the more you walked and the closer you heard certain voices the more your spine crawled.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
Four steps...
You could barley hear anything but the thumping of your own heart.
The small area of the hotel seemed to have been a sort of living room, sets of chairs and sofas surrounding a television box that seemed to be from one of the more later years after your time.
A calm Alastor and a stressed out Charlie were seated on the two different sofa while facing each other with papers and maps scattered around the table in the middle. Rosie lead you further to have you be in the view of the both of them.. you could've sworn her smile stretched as she did so
"Well if it isn't our beloved Rosie! What a warming surprise!--" Alastor's voice cheered until the end, where a sharp radio static interrupted his sentence and irritated those ears of yours.
"Rosie!" Charlie stood up from her seat in a polite yet frazzled state "Thank you so much for visiting!.. and I-- oh.."
The silence was deafening. You waved awkwardly as you avoided eye contact with your father and faced Charlie herself, her eyes basically ready to budge out and her jaws hanging slightly.
"Just came to visit and bring a little gift! I found this little bird during my stroll around my cannibal town and she seems to need your assistance! Isn't that right ______ darling?"
Rosie finished her sentence by patting your shoulder gently before her hands finally rested on the handle of her umbrella once more. You fiddled with your hands as you shined an awkward smile.. you looked like a child about to give a powerpoint presentation to a class..
'oh dear.. "
—--------------------------------------------
It was yet another cold and dark night in the beautiful New Orleans, faint night music can be heard even in the dead of night from the nearby clubs. A fresh and gentle night,
Ah but.. Alastor wasn’t exactly getting his hours of much needed sleep, for he had been rudely awakened by the cries of a baby.
Yes, you were around ten months old at this time and Alastor was yet to get used to this. There wasn’t a day that passed by where he didn’t think of dropping you at an orphanage. But then again.. It wasn’t that hard to get you to stop crying so those heinous thoughts left very quickly. Except for this day, he was getting challenged by a ten month old you.
“Shh shh shh.. goodness _____ please just go to sleep..” he mumbled, definitely frustrated. Despite his pleas, you just kept on crying and crying while resting over his shoulder. He fed you, patted your back, rocked you to sleep.. nothing worked– unfortunately Alastor wasn’t thinking of one of the most obvious solutions to this situation since the poor guy was too tired to truly think properly.
He kept gently patting your back, shushing you and cooing softly in hopes to tire you out. Your small yet mighty cries continued to rage against his ear..
god he had no idea what to do.
That was when he held you, his hands under your arms as he had you held in front of his face. His glasses were sloppily slapped above his nose, eye bags under his eyes, and a small smile was threatening to turn into a huge frown.
“Little lady.. I don’t appreciate you keeping me up longer than usual tonight, what in the world could you want?” Alastor asked you despite knowing you couldnt understand let alone talk to him back. You simply looked at him with big innocent eyes filled with tears, your baby face stained with dry and wet tear stains and your mouth nibbling on your hand on the verge of crying all over again. Alastor couldn’t help but to look at you almost blankly, he just wanted to sleep.
Gahh but then your eyes started watering again, your little bottom lip curled up over your top one as it quivered and looked at him with these little pained eyes as if he just told you the worst thing ever.
“Oh don’t look at me like that..” he mumbled.. Dreading the feeling you gave him when you cried– it felt like your cries were hurting him, it pained him hearing you cry so hard.
He wasn’t exactly fond of feeling this.
Your loud crying resumed once again, Alastor let out a huge sigh.
“Oh fine- I apologize.. There, better now?” you cried harder, clearly.. no.
He groaned as he then rested you on his chest, your face over his shoulder once again. If your crying wasn’t going to stop he might as well listen to a song to calm his agitation. And so he did, he headed to the living room to then turn on the phonograph. With the device already having a disc in it he simply had to turn it on so it could play where it left off and the second it released the sound of bliss he let out a sigh of relief, that at least despite the crying he could at least go through this as calmly as possible.
The music wasn’t exactly loud, very faint in fact yet he could still hear it a little bit over your crying. He hummed to the tune of the song as he simply patted your back gently and waited for your cries to disintegrate.
This was one of his favorite songs as they were from a musician that is recently becoming incredibly famous in the music industry and Alastor was fascinated by their use of melody and sound.
Melodies that reminded him of the days of his mother when she was still gracing the earth, a real saint that woman was.
Sometimes he talks to her through a photo of her on the wall, asking her questions she’ll never answer, seeking advice and wisdom that he won’t ever be able to hear again.
If only her sickness didn’t overtake her as fast as it did, maybe she would know what to say to motivate him more in this moment of struggle.
He thought and thought and thought as if his head would burst if he didn't.. wondering how she would help him in raising you. What she would say, her suggestions, recommendations.. what would she do in a situation like this.
He knew he had to stay calm and stay in control, he had to keep smiling for that’s what his mother always did no matter what came her way.
She handled it with grace, poise, and with a smile.
It took him around an hour of overthinking about his mothers death, you, his future, his job, and his.. pff.. fascinations.. the lack of sleep seriously taking a toll on him as his want was slowly getting tired of patting you.
But most of all he was thinking about you. His future included yours.
How kind.. despite being so heartless.
Oh.. the song ended and all that was left was the soft static from the machine, blissful silence was all that was heard.
Wait..
Silence?
He looked over his shoulder to look at you, your little baby cheeks squished against him, your eyes closed and your breathing steady..
Finally! You're asleep.
Another sigh of relief released from his lips, continuing to loudly hum the same song that was playing earlier as he slowly walked out of the living room towards his room, now stopping at your crib.
He continued humming as one of his hands held the back of your head and the other held your back, gently placing you in the crib while humming the tune he kept you close while he set you down so you wouldn’t suddenly burst in crying again.
Once he gently managed to place you down with no fuss.. He was darn ready to sleep.
Oh but he took a moment to look at you, leaning against the railings of your ‘bed’ made specifically for you.
Your little baby fat and your squishy cheeks that made your little face even cuter– once again, he was never fond of kids let alone babies but hell if only you didn’t look at him the way you did on that rainy day he found you.. Giggling and smiling even when you didn’t have a single clue of what your situation was as a month old baby.
“You are definitely a handful.. If you kept crying I might have left you in an orphanage by now.” he whispered and joked to himself– no matter the cruel jokes he makes he’ll always find laughter in moments or scenarios of despair.
He’s too far gone now though, he’s bought all your necessities and his home basically screams of a baby’s presence, so even if he truly wanted to do that he knew it’s too late to turn back and you're stuck to him forever.. Well however long ‘forever’ is.
"Domestic life was never quite my style.. still isn't, but I can simply make a few exceptions."
“Well now.. sweetest of dreams, little dove.” he mumbled quietly before finally heading to his own bed himself.
Alastor finally settling in and finally getting comfortable and very slowly falling asleep himself.. glasses back on his nightstand and the noise around him becoming fainter and his mind seemed to finally start powering off for the night.
Finally.. time to sleep.. there's much work to do tomorrow.
Until he heard shuffling from the crib.
‘Oh god.’
(thank you so much for reading part 5 of my angel baby! the stakes are gonna get real high between the reader and Alastor! hope everything goes well for the two when one of them starts interacting!(alastor lmao) hope to see you all in part 6 if you are willing to stick around! Im really only planning to finish this series until the very end or until you guys stop wanting it but nonetheless I hope we reach the end of this story soon!!)
#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor the radio demon#alastor x reader#hazbin#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel angst#hazbin hotel spoilers#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor altruist#radio demon#the radio demon#alastor hazbin#alastor x reader platonic#alastor x you#alastor x y/n#hazbin hotel rosie#hazbin rosie#rosie#hello rosie#rosie the cannibal#rosie hazbin hotel#charlie hazbin hotel#charlie morningstar#hazbin charlie#hazbin hotel fandom#hazbin hotel fanfiction#platonic hazbin
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Jungkook
𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 | Part 5
A smile from you is all he needs to feel recharged.
Tags/Warnings: Game Designer!Jungkook, Non Idol AU, established relationship, Angst , emotional kook, suggestive messages, poor Maria pt.1 [Tags will be different for every part!]
Length: 1k Words
There is no taglist for this fic.
Collab with @euphoricfilter ! 💜
-> Masterlist
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
This is not going to plan at all.
Not only is he behind schedule wise, he's also not thought about the possibility of what this all might look like to you at all. Because why would you even think that in the first place? He'd be absolutely stupid to cheat on you, let alone with a 64 year old married woman of all people!
But then again, you don't know that part- and he also can't really properly explain it as he would surely blow his own cover, and he's just too close to the finish line to give up now. He already almost cried at deleting your face ID and fingerprint from his phone, feeling like he deleted the memory of setting those things up too, but he swore himself it's for a good cause down the line. You'll make so many more memories together for sure, and they'll top those more than by just a little. He'll make sure that they will.
[Alright, I'm so excited! Next time let's do it this way right from the start- no need to make it so complicated!] Maria had wrote him in full, and he reads over it with a bit of worry. Does she really understand what he meant by his worries?
[I'm not sure you understand. I'm planning something big, and I'm also behind when it comes to physical intimacy these days, you know?] He writes the woman, who he's asked prior about the rules and such regarding.. well, sex in the home he's renting out for the upcoming special occasion he's planned. He doesn't want to get locked up for not following some Airbnb laws he overlooked after all. That would just be embarrassing. [And we're very intimate people. I'm taking her pleasure and happiness seriously, if you get the hint.] He texts her as he boils some water on the stove for his absolute accurately made ramyeon.
[Oh trust me, I've been young too! No need to be shy, I can only imagine that emotions will run high most likely!] She responds, and Jungkook pursed his lips for a second, before he starts to play with his piercings deep in thought.
[No, Maria, I don't think you get it-] he begins to type. [-it's been almost two full weeks at this point, that's the longest we've ever gone without any sex, we're talking at least three orgasms a day times fourteen, I've got some major catching up to do..] jungkook sends her, before he puts his phone down for a second as to prepare the instant noodles properly.
[It's fine, really. No need to worry!] The woman responds. But jungkook wants to make sure.
[She's a squirter- you know what that is right? Either way it's gonna get messy so I'm just making sure you REALLY know what you're getting into if you say it's alright because the carpet looked really nice and I'm not sure how to get cum stains out of that] he rambles, not noticing you emerge from the bedroom now as you put your bag on one of the kitchen chairs. [I can replace it too if that happens no problem, you know how my girlfriend gets haha. Well you don't but you will know after we're done with the place-] he taps and accidentally sends out as you call his name, causing him to almost drop his phone into the soup pot on the stove, only barely catching it in time before he can practically throw it into the pocket of his sweatpants. "Yeah?" He asks towards you, and you look at him still way too hostile in his opinion.
He knows you can be a bit of a hot head. It's what he loves about you- how fierce you can get and how you'll always stand your ground. But he also knows that you're a bit of an aklebiter with some serious anger issues sometimes- once you see red, you don't see anything else anymore. So he's got to be careful not to fuck it up any further, because once he loses you, he loses for good.
Because you're stubborn if you've made up your mind.
"The water's boiling over." You mumble, avoiding his gaze as you sit at the kitchen table, arms crossed in defense. He jumps at your words and turns off the stove at that, somewhat awkwardly playing up some food into bowl for the both of you, watching you eat silently across from him with an almost needy gaze.
You're gonna probably try and kick his balls if he asks you to sit on his lap right now, so he swallows down the request to keep them intact.
He's gonna seriously crunch some hours while you're sleeping over at a friend's house so he can still make the deadline, able to pass up on sleep with you not actually home to scold him for it. He hates the fact that the app on his phone constantly reminds him of the lack of intimacy between you two- taunting him with notifications about his streak being broken, his record being topped, his spot up top on the scoreboard being taken. He hates it. He created this app, he should be the one who's best at it too!
God he can't wait to get his hands on you again. He feels like his dick is going to fall off in the next few days.
And it's not just that, either. He doesn't sleep well when you're not with him, he misses all the interactions you usually have during the day, the love, the intimacy of just being close, he misses it so bad. And he kind of doesn't want you to leave right now- he'd love to just call it quits and just cave in, but he's come too far now, and you're also a strong independent woman. You deserve to choose where you want to go or stay, he's got no say in that- or at least he shouldn't try to have it.
"I.. You'll text me when you wanna come back home, right?" He asks as he finishes his bowl, and you shrug.
"Whatever." You mumble. "S' not like you want me home for more than the chores anyways." You huff into your food, and he can't help but feel his eyes tear up. No, stupid Jungkook, don't fucking cry right now. You're gonna ruin it all with your dumb tears and weak heart just like always-
"I do want you home.." he mumbles quietly, blinking harder to avoid you spotting anything off- but you notice. Of course you do.
"...I'll text you." You say, and that at least soothes his mind for the moment as his phone falls out of his pocket, screen cracking and making him cringe.
Fuck. That's the what.. 20th time this year?
But it's all worth it, if it means he can at least see the hint of a smile pull at your lips for once.
The sight alone motivation enough to make him work even harder now.
#bts imagine#bts fanfic#bts fic#jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook imagine#bts jungkook imagine#bts smut#jungkook x reader#bts jungkook fanfic#jungkook smut#bts jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook fanfic#bts jeon jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook imagines#jungkook imagines#jungkook x reader smut
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There is an ichor creeping its way through Wonderland, devouring residents never to be seen again. That's how you got your "promotion" to the Role of the Cheshire Cat. You thought things would be okay until an Ink Well appeared right in the middle of the Red Queen's garden and took out half of the court gathered there. Now you're tasked with finding the source of the ichor and stopping it before it consumes all of Wonderland.
The Ink Stained Chessboard is a WIP and interactive CYOA novel. It is a fantasy adventure romance story with heavy focus on plot, romance, and stats. It is inspired by Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass. It's being written in Twine.
So by popular vote, this is now my main focus! I'll try to keep it updated as much as possible!
Note: Because this is a WIP the name of some places or people may change between now and the final version.
Genre: Adventure, Fantasy, Romance
Rating: Not rated as of right now.
Tracked Tag: #ink stained chessboard
Demo || Romance Options || Side Characters || FAQ || Tag Navigation
In The Ink Stained Chessboard, you play as a Wonderland resident who's been "promoted" to the position of the Cheshire Cat. You were simply minding your own business one day when you were ripped from your original Role and put into the Role of the Cheshire Cat. You've been in the Role for a little bit now. As for who put you in the role? Wonderland, itself did that. A bit bizarre, but it does have a mind of its own.
Without the interference of an "Alice" figure, life is pretty normal. Odd but normal. It's not always wacky and nonsensical in Wonderland, believe it or not. When an "Alice" appears, Wonderland moves all of its pieces to tell the story again and again like a play. That's how its supposed to work anyways. But ever since this strange ink-like substance appeared the story hasn't been running smoothly like it should.
When an Ink Well appears during a tea party in the Red Queen's garden and consumes half of the court, you decide it's time to do something about this. With a group of pretty unlikely allies, you set off to find what's causing the ichor to appear and stop it.
Play as a male, female, or nonbinary Cheshire Cat
Customize the way you look, including your ears and tail and your cat form! Your normal form is humanoid with cat ears and a tail
Choose what your Role was before Wonderland made you the Cheshire Cat. Your previous Role will give you exclusive abilities not available to other roles
Choose to romance 1 of 5 options or none at all
Figure out what's going on with the ichor and why it's appearing and where do the residents it absorbs go
Make a decision with the fate of Wonderland in your hands
The Cheshire Cat - You (he/him), (she/her), or (they/them)
You play as the Cheshire Cat. You possess all the typical things associated with the cat, such as disappearing and reappearing and your iconic grin. Your previous Role will also give you specific abilities. Being put in a Main Role made you functionally immortal so you don't know how old you really are, but physically, you appear to be in your mid-twenties (24-26).
The people of Wonderland sometimes call you Chess/Chessie.
Appearance: Player Determined, although your base figure is humanoid with cat ears and a tail
The Alice - Alice/Alex Liddle (she/her) or (he/him)
A is the newest "Alice" to Wonderland. The 103rd "Alice" to be exact. Because of the ichor, their story broke apart pretty early on leaving them basically stranded in Wonderland with no direction. It's good that they're a precocious person and found their own way to the Red Queen's garden. They're a bit naive but are earnest and kind and was one of the first people to volunteer to go with you. Their only stipulation: to go home when it's done.
Appearance: A is on the shorter side of average in terms of height. Alice is 5'3 and Alex is 5'8. They both have fair skin with freckles and loosely curly blonde hair. Alice has long hair while Alex's is about medium-length. Their eyes are light blue and their frame is lithe and thin. They appear to be in their early twenties (20-23).
The Mad Hatter - Olivia/Oliver (she/her) or (he/him)
O is the Mad Hatter. They aren't the "original" Mad Hatter, but they've been in their Role longer than you've been the Cheshire Cat. They are eccentric and a bit unpredictable. That's probably why they were the second person to volunteer to go with you to figure out what's going on, after Alice/Alex. You two don't really get along, bickering often when not in your Roles, so you're surprised when they volunteered. Being a Main Role, like you, they also are functionally immortal, but appear to be in their mid-twenties (24-26), as well.
Appearance: O is pretty tall with Olivia being around 5'9 and Oliver being about 6'1. They both have clear tanned skin and orange-red hair. Their hair is mixed textures with some strands being straight and others wavy. They always keep their hair down, even if it's inconvenient. They have brown eyes and a lanky frame.
The Red Queen/The Queen of Hearts - Isabelle (she/her)
Isabelle is the Red Queen and the Queen of Hearts. You find her Role varies from "Alice" to "Alice". She's fairly new to the Role, having acquired her position around the same time you became the Cheshire Cat. She's a bit stiff and serious, trying to figure out where her role stops and where she begins. She, like her predecessors, has a passion for roses and it was her garden that was destroyed by the Ink Well. You aren't surprised when she says she's coming with you "for her rose garden". As a Main Role, she is also functionally immortal. She physically appears to be in her early thirties (30-33).
Appearance: Isabelle is a woman of about average height, standing at 5'5. She has soft brown skin and straight black hair. She has red eyes and a fuller figure.
The Jabberwocky - Fenrir (he/him)
Fenrir is the Jabberwocky. He is the second Jabberwocky ever in Wonderland. His role, like Isabelle's, varies from "Alice" to "Alice". Some "Alices" don't ever go near him while others face him. He's solemn and fairly stoic and serious. He's the last person you expected to volunteer since he prefers to be solitary, although you suspect it's because he just wants to get this over with and go back to minding his own business. As a Main Role, he is functionally immortal, but physically appears in his late twenties (27-29).
Appearance: Fenrir is pretty tall, standing at a wild 6'5. He has tanned olive skin and black hair with streaks/highlights of dull blue and green. His eyes are grey and he has an fit figure, not too muscular but not lanky either. He has a few light scars on his face.
Wonderland - ??? (it/its)
Wonderland is... Wonderland. It has a personality of its own and is the one who moves you and the others around when there's an "Alice". It's in charge of making sure the "Alice's" story runs smoothly and to get them in and out quickly. Due to the ichor appearing, it's no longer running smoothly, often forgetting to move pieces around causing a disruption of the cycle. When the Ink Well appeared in the Red Queen's garden, it seems to have stopped "working" all together.
Appearance: It's a land, so far. Notable chessboard fields?
Mysterious Figure - ??? (they/them)
What's Wonderland without one mysterious figure? After the latest Ink Well in the Red Queen's garden, you've been seeing them around Wonderland. You aren't sure if they're following you or if you're indirectly following them, but you seen them quite often. Even odder, every time you see them, they look confused. How strange...
Appearance: You haven't gotten close enough to fully look at them, but you think they at least have blue hair? Or was it purple? Maybe green or even pink? You swear it was white one time. Their skin is very pale, nearly paper white. They're tall from what you can tell. Probably around 6'2. They're clothed in a long black robe with a hood. It's a bit on the nose, don't you think?
#the ink stained chessboard#ink stained chessboard#interactive fiction#interactive novel#interactive story#if wip#if game#text based game#twine if#twine game#twine wip#twine interactive fiction#twine story
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Resplendent
word count: 1220
Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Female! Metkayina! Na'vi Reader
Tags/warnings: Fluff, angst, bittersweet, established relationship, adult reader, adult Neteyam, no smut
Summary: Neteyam quietly watches you from the shore as you perform a ritual dance in the water, to the utter delight of your daughters.
Author's Note: Set some time after the big battle. Also moved those events further ahead. You and Neteyam are mated and have children before the RDA attacks the reef. Got inspired by the song~
Sa’nu - mum, mommy
Tahni - bioluminescent freckle
Close your eyes.
Deep breathes.
Remember the moves.
Remember the words...
Your heart thrums in your chest almost painfully. You take a deep, slow, calming breath; placing a hand over your heart.
“Sa’nu? Are you okay?”
You open your eyes, looking down to meet the gaze of your youngest daughter. The cool water of the sea comes up to her neck. Sweet thing. You told her, she and her sister could watch you from the shoreline. But they were persistent to be as close to you as possible. The water barely reaches your hips.
You offer a soft smile, reaching down and affectionately stroking her hair.
“I’m okay…Don’t worry my little star. Mommy’s just nervous.” The 5-year-old beams up at you with a toothy grin. Your 6-year-old beside her pats you on the arm.
“You practiced aaaaall the time! You got this.” She offers you her own encouraging smile. You give her an appreciative nod before facing the shoreline once more. You return your face to neutrality, closing your eyes once again.
You hear the disturbance of the water as your daughters move a bit to the side to give you more space to move.
With one final calming breath, you open your mouth and begin the song cord of your family.
---
Neteyam stands under the shade of a nearby tree on the shoreline. His arms are crossed as he watches the three of you.
The evening breeze carries your voice to him. He stands up straight when the sound hits his ears.
When you sing, it reminds him of the melody of birdsong in spring. No matter how many years may pass between you two, every time he hears you play the instrument of your heart, he feels like he could fall in love with you all over again.
He takes in your form as you start swaying in the water, admiring you from top to bottom.
Your hair, thick and long, reaching all the way down to your knees; you and your sisters spent what must have been hours, braiding it into the intricate patterns now adorning your head.
Even from this distance, he can still make out the faint markings of the tattoos framing your face. Though today you also have a thin line of white painting the centre of your face. You could have mud smeared all over and he would still find you to be the most beautiful woman; you have him convinced you are blessed by Eywa herself.
You arms move slow and with purpose through the air; attuned with the words as they fall from your lips.
Your soft lips.
How he wishes he could kiss you right now.
You dip down, submerging your arms into the water. In one fluid motion, you rise back up to your feet, the motion you perform with your hands and arms bring water up with you as you rose. Your arms are stretched out to your sides as you pirouette.
Neteyam’s heart skips a beat as he watches you, and it’s as if time itself slows, just so he can drink in the beauty of your very being.
With your back to eclipse, your front is cast in shadow.
The water falls around you in a shimmering curtain of rain. The last light of eclipse hits the smooth stones woven into the fabric on your chest; causing a cascade of colours to dance across your skin. And when the sun disappears, your tahni come to life like the brilliance of dawn.
It’s one of his most favourite parts of your body. Though you had the scattered stars as did all Na’vi, for reasons he attests only to being blessed by Eywa, you have thin bioluminescent swirls weaving itself around your arms, chest, and all down your legs. To him it’s like a faint galaxy glittering in the night.
He recalls fondly the memory of him knowing each and every star on your body intimately.
And in the fading light of the day do you shine before him. Resplendent as you are in the day, so too will you dazzle the world around you in the darkness of the approaching night.
His heart throbs something fierce when you open your eyes after dipping into the water once more. Even behind the curtain of water, or the netting of the fabric draped over your head, your eyes glow with a fierceness he knows all to well. It pierces his very soul, a warmth sweeping over him.
He drinks you in more as you bend your form this way and that. He wishes he knew the intricacies of your dance; understood what each fluid motion meant, the significance of each swish of your tail, or the ways you angle your hands and bend your fingers.
You close your eyes as you near the end of the cord song.
As you perform another twirl, you playfully swat the water with your thick tail, splashing your daughters.
Their uncontrollable gigging brings a smile to your face. You open your eyes as you continue to dance, giving them a loving look. They’re splashing each other with reckless abandon as they try to imitate your moves. You can’t help the unrestrained laughter their antics bring you.
Neteyam laughs quietly to himself as he watches his girls playfully flay about in the water. Every day since their birth he’s given thanks to both you and the Great Mother for blessing him with such miracles. He hadn’t thought it was possible to love something as much as he loved you.
He feels a stray tear fall down his cheek. But he doesn’t move to wipe it away. Instead he continues to smile as he watches your song and dance coming to its conclusion.
You turn to face the horizon, and his gaze drifts to his girls.
They’re singing something he can’t quite make out, but he loves the sound nonetheless.
And when their eyes meet his, finally noticing his presence, they wave at him wildly, giggling all over again.
His smile grows wider, and he offers them a small wave back.
---
One final pose, and you hold the final note of your song, eyes still closed. You hold that note until your lungs and throat burn.
You hear the excited cheers of your daughters as they shower you with praise. Your breathing is laboured as your heart pounds in your chest, but you offer them a bow and a small smile of gratitude.
You turn yourself to the horizon before you finally open your eyes. The ritual dance has come to and end.
You rub the cool ocean water on your cheeks, in your neck, and down your arms; all in an effort to cool you down from your laborious activity. You breath deep in from the nose, and slowly exhale through your mouth, calming your rapid heartbeat.
The girls still giggle beside you, resuming their unrefined dancing; now also singing their favourite lullaby in lieu of a songcord.
Sufficiently cooled off, you turn your head to your daughters to admire them in their silliness.
Your brow nits in slight confusion though, when you see them waving at something behind you, giggling all the while.
You turn around, curiosity in your eyes.
But the shoreline is just as empty as when you arrived.
---
Author's Notes: It was a private funeral dance 😢
#neteyam x reader#neteyam x metkayina!reader#neteyam sully x you#neteyam sully x reader#neteyam x na'vi!reader#neteyam sully x y/n#neteyam x y/n#metkayina reader#afab reader#avatar neteyam#reader insert#avatar way of water#avatar 2#avatar fanfiction#neteyam fluff#dad neteyam#mom reader#hurt/comfort#no comfort#bittersweet#implied death#Spotify
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Thoughts on giving critiques to comics artists.
Seeing lots of discussion from students about sour experiences with an unhelpful art teacher, so here's a long, long post about giving critiques.
NB: I have no formal training as a teacher, but I was a student, and I've spent decades giving artists feedback on their work.
When someone brings me a portfolio, I like to establish my limitations & clarify my perspective. My work is firmly rooted in traditional US comics storytelling (i.e., not manga or art-comics.) I can give feedback on other approaches but they should know where I’m coming from.
“We've only got a little time for this, so I'm going to spend that time focusing on things to correct. That doesn't mean you're doing everything wrong, or that there’s nothing good here, but it’ll be more helpful if I identify some problems and show you how to fix them.”
Why? Because for many young artists their entire sense of self worth is wrapped up in being good at what they do. (It was for me!) In school they were probably the best artist in their peer group. But now if they're hoping to turn pro, they’re at the bottom.
Sometimes you know what’s up when you see page 1, but try to keep an open mind. Some build their portfolios by sticking new pages at the back & don’t weed out the old stuff up front, so the work gets better as you go. When it’s like that I ask: “Show me your best 8 pages.”
I ask questions: "What's the goal? Do you want to be hired to work on someone else's project, or to get the story you're showing me here published?"
If 1, I steer towards a portfolio that'll showcase hirable skills.
If 2, I look for what tweaks will make that particular story more effective.
"Do you have teachers giving you regular feedback? What are they telling you?" Sometimes a student is getting bad advice. In cases like that, I'll do my best to be extra clear WHY I'm giving them advice that's 180 degrees from what they've been hearing.
“What artists are you looking at? Is there someone you admire or try to emulate?” This often helps me understand choices they're making, and I can sometimes incorporate things those artists do into my suggestions.
I ask myself questions about what I’m seeing. First: Is there a narrative? If not, I make it 100% clear I'm not speaking as any sort of expert. I'm good at critiquing storytelling, but don't have anywhere near as much to offer illustrators or designers.
Can I follow the story? Or am I confused about what's going on? Are the characters and settings drawn consistently?
If not, is the artist at least making use of tags (distinctive clothing, hair etc.) to keep the characters recognizable?
Does the artist demonstrate a good command of basic academic drawing? If not, Do I think they need it? Do I focus on "how to draw" or on "what to do when you can't draw?"
Is the artist putting the viewer’s eye where it needs to be to tell the story effectively?
(At this point I’m usually doing little doodles to go with my instructions. I scribble out ugly little 5 second diagrams that I hope will clarify what I’m talking about. Or they might make me seem demented. Hard to say!)
Is the artist making choices that are creating more work than necessary? Is there a particular weakness? I once spoke to an artist with a portfolio full of great work when he was drawing animals and monsters, but his humans were amateurish in comparison. I spent that critique talking about drawing people.
A crit can be a grab bag. In addition to big-picture advice, I'll point out tangencies, violations of the 180-degree rule, wonky anatomy, weird perspective, places where the artist neglected to do important research, odd choices in how they spotted black, whatever catches my eye.
I also try to make a point of defining the terms, so that jargon like “tangency,” “180-degree rule,” and “spotting black” don't go over their heads. Find simple, concrete ways to talk about these things, & clarify why it's a problem when they aren't done correctly. Draw diagrams!
Recognize that even a perfectly phrased explanation might not sink in. Some lessons can only be learned when a student is ready, and it might take a year or two of work before they can understand what you were saying. It's good to plant seeds.
Are there other artists who are particularly good at solving the problems the student is trying to solve? I steer them towards that artist's work. And I always recommend life drawing & the use of reference to give work variety and authority.
Despite what I said earlier about focusing on what's wrong, I try at the end to find something encouraging to say. And if I’ve really piled on the criticism, I emphasize that I only spent the time and energy to do so because I take their efforts seriously.
If I've done my job right, they'll leave my table with tools to make their work better. And maybe in a few years they'll be looking at some younger artist's work, surprised to discover just how much you can learn when you're asked to teach.
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IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH – nanami kento
a/n: sorry for the inactivity, exams have been kicking my ass
contents: nanami is starting to get old. he used to be able to withstand nights of drinking until he passed out and the subsequent work day, but now the a/c gives him a cold.
tags: sfw, enstablished relationship, married au, non sorcerer au, fem!reader, talks of snot and fever, unbelievably self indulgent.
unbelievable. un-believable. you knew something was wrong when nanami had made himself a cup of chamomile tea with a spoonful of honey the night before. he had told you he was just tired from work, but – realistically – who wants to have hot tea in the middle of july? he had been clearig his throat way too often before going to bed, and he looked like he was struggling to swallow whatever food you offered.
after years of marriage you knew better than to ask him about it, he'd only deny feeling unwell. so you do the next best thing: slip him a tablet for his sore throat with the usual vitamins he takes every night. he fell asleep almost instantly, his body already tired from fighting off the illness. he unintentionally woke you up at around 4am from blowing his nose a little too hard, causing him to cough into the tissue.
he struggled to fall asleep again after that, tossing and turning every couple of minutes, no doubt from not being able to breathe properly. it's in that precise moment (5:33am) when you decide that he's taking the day off tomorrow. he's an icredibly responsible worker, he has more than enough sick days accumulated to be able to use at least one.
you wake up before him – miraculously, considering how little sleep you got – and make him some breakfast as quietly as possible. you decided not to turn off his alarm clock because you knew he would not listen to you and simply rush straight to work if you had done that. so you opt to set the table and place the freshly squeezed orange and ginger juice next to his green tea and a bowl of honey-banana oatmeal.
you hear the familiar beeping of the alarm clock as you're pouring yourself a cup of coffee, and patiently wait for your husband to come into the kitchen. you must be lost in thought because you almost don't notie him until he rests his head on your shoulder and tries to stifle a cough.
"morning," he groggily says.
"sweetheart," you coo while turning to face him, "did you have trouble sleeping? i heard you coughing at some point. here," you place your coffee down on the counter and raise your hand to his forehead, "let me see."
you almost gasp at the heaviness of his eyelids and the unusual warmth of his forehead.
"kento, you look ill," and he knows you're serious, you never call him by his name.
"i feel fine," he tries, but he knows that it's useless. he doesn't feel too bad, just congested. and he has a headache. and his throat is killing him. he can power through.
"have some breakfast and go back to bed, i'll text your boss and bring you some medicine after," he can't even protest, the thought of having to get ready and go into that cold, cold office where his cubicle is inches away from the a/c sending chills down his spine. not like his protests would matter much, regardless, as you're already sprinting to his phone. so he sits down, alternates between sipping his tea and the juice you had made him (the ginger burns his throat but he forces himself to swallow). he tries to eat most of the oatmeal but his stomach just doesn't agree with him, so he leaves a little less than half of it in the bowl.
he's a good man, tidies up after himself even when oh so horribly sick, and goes back to bed. once you hear the rustling of the covers you know you've succeded. you exit the bathroom, a smidge of eye cream unblended on your cheek, and hand him a glass of water and some ibuprofen. you make sure he has enough tissues by the bed and leave him a bottle of cough syrup and a spoon on his nightstand. you tuck the comforter all the way up his chin and grab some clothes to get ready for work.
once you're ready you come back into the bedroom and almost decide to leave without giving him a kiss in fear of disturbing his rest. you opt against that, knowing how unusually whiny your husband gets when he's sick. so you place a gentle hand on his arm and leave a peck on his forehead.
"i'll try to be back for lunch," you whisper, "but if i don't make it there should be some leftovers in the fridge if you feel up to it."
he groans in response as you make your way to your shoe rack, a barely audible "love you" from him painting a smile on your lips as you quietly close the door.
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Bedeviled - Masterlist
Pairing: demon!jungkook x female reader
Genre: E2L, drama, romance, horror, angst
Age recommendation: 16+ (pls be aware of your boundaries and don't force yourself to read something that may affect you, ily)
Official Word Count: 165k
Date first posted: October 14, 2022
Date finished: December 13, 2023
Warnings: strong language, brief mentions of liquor, physical violence, gore, cruelty, humiliation, angst, physical injuries, panic attacks, frightening depictions of Hell and those in it, some suggestive content, deals with/summoning of demons (do not), grief, death, loss, strong religious themes
________________
Money. Fame. Power. Love. Health. Courage. Strength.
Humans will trade their souls for anything, unaware of how their selfish desires will fade away as they do; growing feeble and pathetic, until there's nothing left but the ghost of their youth, cowering in a corner until old age disposes of it.
Convincing yourself to go to the Underworld? Easy...
Walking through to get something that you've waited many years for, accompanied by a demon that will stop at nothing to make sure your soul belongs to him? Maybe not so much.
Making deals with the devil is a tricky business; one you might not have realized could end in something much more painful than death itself if you make a single mistake.
Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. It is not religiously accurate and is not claiming to be. That being said, blasphemy will not be used/tolerated during this story. Heavy inspiration from Dante Alighieri's 'Inferno' was used, I am not claiming to have created those ideas on my own, simply incorporated some of them into my world building. If you do not feel comfortable reading this work, please don't. No need to try and correct me on anything, this is all fictional and for entertainment purposes only. Hate will not be tolerated; it will be removed, and you will be blocked immediately.
All Rights Reserved ©️ @writemywaytoyourheart 2022 2023
This story is protected under copyright. If I find out anyone has stolen my writings, I will not hesitate to take legal action against it. You do not have permission to repost my work on any site ever. If I want it somewhere else, I will put it there myself. If you see my works anywhere but Tumblr (and from my account specifically) please let me know so I can confirm whether it is me or not, thank you.
Do. Not. Steal. My. Work.
Bedeviled Playlist
Table of contents:
As of right now, this story does not have a set schedule, I would like it to be every Friday, but we'll see what the future holds, deal?
1: A Deal with the Devil
2: The First Circle
3. Descent
4. Adumbration
5. Rotten Company
6. rigor samsa
7. Adamantine
8. Summoning
9. The Higher the Wall...
10. The Harder They Fall
11. Hiraeth
12. Apple (12a) (12b)
13. trustfall
14. Always Faithful, Always Strong
15. [a: alea iacta est] [b: Morior Invictus]
Epilogue
Tag list; @kookxin @butterymin @telepathytae @kooliv @highoffbaddecisions @meanum @smitssharon02 @kmpac @ggukkieland @jjanjankook @sugaslittlekookies @hobispriteu1306 @kimchibrat @slowlydeliciousjiminie @screamertannie @i-dont-give-a-fok @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @ohyeahjk @babycandy111 @ttipa @ggukcanim @era-genius @katlumiiine @xmochiloverx @sopikooo @berryonasummerevening @jamlessstars @bangtannie7 @iftheworldiswritten @nuttykittypainter @geniejunn @mal99 @ane102 @charlesswife @jeonssm @ashbxnny @veronawrites @jjkw-7 @jinsundor @h-g-bts @justvibingsblog @hyuneyeon @hellbornsworld @hiii-priestess @nuttypizzacat @vidaficrecs @royallyjjk @thvslvt @hoseoksluv89 @moonchilddna @idkjustlovingbts @taiwan0618 @aurorathi @kookies-n-spice @ohxhoneyyxx @namjoonscrabjuice @dumdaradumdaradum @vintagemoonsstuff @jiminsthings @p-i-e-d-p-i-p-e-r @0funsite0 @av0kqdo
(let me know if you want to be added/removed and pls be sure to let me know if you have changed your username and would still like to be tagged, ty ❤)
#jeon jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook demon au#jungkook smut#bts fluff#bts#bts reactions#bts angst#bts jungkook#bts fanfic#bts x reader#bts x y/n#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#bts demon au#demon!jk#demon!jungkook#bts smut
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Happy New Year - Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader
Word count: 1.7k
Warnings: barely proof read (I vaguely looked over it once) and mentions of alcohol consumption
felt like writing this (it's totally not to sweeten you all up for when I post deck the halls part 5 tomorrow whaaat that would be ridiculous I would never do that... 👀)
Tag list (i think this is everyone but idk anything anymore): @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @light-23, @locknco, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife
"Right, we've got just over an hour before midnight and George has got the telly all set up for the fireworks display. Holly said she'd be here in about ten minutes and Kipps is coming with her, I'm not entirely sure where Lucy and Norrie are which I should probably be more concerned about, and I think that's everything. Is Flo coming do you know? Because I know George said she hadn't decided yet but-"
"Lockwood?"
"Yeah?"
"Why don't you sit down? You seem very stressed," Y/n said, smiling at him from behind her mug of tea while she sat in the kitchen, watching Lockwood pace around the table. It was definitely way past her normal bedtime, but Lockwood had seemed so excited about seeing the New Year in with them all that she couldn't exactly say no to him, especially not when he'd given her a small smile filled with hope that she would say yes to spending the evening with him.
That and they'd tested out the speakers earlier, and she would never have been able to sleep with the music as loud as it currently was.
"I am hosting, Y/n/n. I'm meant to be stressed; it's part of the job."
"Well," she started, getting out of her chair and wincing when her bones clicked. She picked up the mug that Lockwood had abandoned on the table and moved over to where he had stopped his pacing. "I think you're meant to drink your tea and have a biscuit. Then everything will be better, yeah?"
"Alright, if that's what the doctor orders," he smiled as he took the mug out of her hand, and she felt her heart stutter in her chest at the sight. She'd had a crush on Anthony Lockwood since she first met him a few years ago in a café, both him and his company and her Fittes team winding down after their jobs and grabbing a cup of tea before heading out into the cold again. Then she'd quit her job at Fittes because they stopped giving her work and she couldn't afford the rent, and she'd noticed an ad in the paper for agents to join the psychical agency Lockwood and Co, and she'd been met with the pretty boy from the café again. He'd welcomed her instantly, made her feel at home and gave her a place to live, and over the next couple of years her feelings only grew.
Now they were 18 years old, soon to be celebrating the New Year in 35 Portland Row together, and he was smiling at her like she was the sun.
"Don't tell George about the biscuits though, yeah?" he whispered, leaning in as though it were the sort of secret that could never be told. She nodded, snorting at his mock seriousness.
"Wouldn't dream of it."
"Good. Can't have you on your own, can we?"
"I wouldn't be alone, Lockwood. I'd have Lucy, and Holly, and George." She frowned a little, considering something. "Although maybe not George if he's killed you. I don't really want to be friends with murderers to be honest." Lockwood let out a laugh, and Y/n couldn't help but grin back at him when his joy was so infectious.
"No, I don't suppose that would be very good, would it?" He chuckled to himself for a moment or so, sipping his tea and munching on a biscuit. "I'm not much looking forward to being the only one not getting a kiss at midnight though."
It surprised her that he'd brought up the topic, since Lockwood had never really shown much interest in that sort of thing before. "Kipps'll probably be on his own too, although I'm not sure you'll be able to convince him to give you a smooch. I'm not kissing anyone either, if that helps."
"I think I'd rather kiss George's underwear than Kipps. You're not even going to kiss Lucy? I thought you two said you would," he asked, attempting to sound disinterested in the whole subject.
"Yeah, well now that she's got Norrie here they're gonna kiss instead, so I'm on my own. And I would also rather kiss George's pants than Kipps."
"Ah."
"Hmm." They drank the remainder of their tea in silence, the music from the speakers that George had set up streaming in despite being muffled through the closed kitchen door. "You know, I haven't even had my first kiss yet."
Lockwood looked at her, surprise all over his face. "What about that guy you went on a date with?"
"What? When did I go on a date?" And why did Lockwood sound... jealous?
"A few weeks ago. Oh, what was his name? Dave? Derek?"
"Daniel?"
"Yes! Daniel, that's the one. I knew it started with a 'd'."
"Dan's not... we're not dating, Lockwood. That wasn't a date," she said, feeling increasingly flustered.
"So he just bought you flowers and took you to dinner... as a friend?" Lockwood was definitely jealous, and Y/n had to bite back a laugh at the idea. Something was nagging at her in the back of her mind, telling her that it was strange for him to be jealous and wouldn't that mean something? but she wasn't paying much attention to it.
"Well I told him it wasn't a date. And we didn't kiss so I don't see how it's relevant."
"Right." A momentary pause. "But still, how come you haven't kissed anyone before?"
"It's not by choice. I've just never... had the opportunity I guess. You've probably kissed loads of people, what with how many of them you charm every day." Lockwood shrugged.
"Not really. There was one girl a few months ago, but she kissed me after pinning me against a taxi so that I physically couldn't get away from her, so I'm not entirely sure that counts."
"... What?"
"Yeah. After that job for Mrs. Hastings, her daughter followed us out and shoved me against the taxi. I have no idea how she was that strong but I feared for my life."
"You're ridiculous," she muttered as she looked at his face, no hint of anything other than utter seriousness displayed on his features.
"Ah, there you two are!" George said, pushing open the door and talking slightly louder than normal due to the blaring music. "I was wondering where you'd got to! Come on, the others are all here now, and they managed to convince Flo to come along somehow."
Y/n put down her empty tea mug and picked up her plastic cup that had had Lucy's punch in it (although what was in the punch itself she had no idea), and headed into the living room with Lockwood close behind to get comfy for the celebrations.
~~~
"Five minutes everyone!" Lucy shouted. She had since emerged from wherever it was that she'd been hiding (she and Norrie had appeared in giggles and with blushes on their faces, so Y/n felt sure in her assumption of what they'd been up to) and was now handing around a large bottle of some sort of cocktail that she'd mixed earlier.
Y/n and Lockwood were curled up next to each other on the sofa, somehow fitting the both of them on there without falling off. Lockwood was partially sat up, leaning his back against the armrest and holding Y/n close to him by wrapping an arm around her waist.
"You alright, love?" Lockwood murmured into her ear, and she nodded sleepily. Despite the loud music and alcohol Y/n was feeling worn out from the late hour, and Lockwood's hand stroking through her hair wasn't helping to keep her awake.
"I'm alright. Jus' tired."
"Not long now. Four minutes I think."
"I still don't have anyone to kiss," she said, a frown appearing on her face. The alcohol had made her tipsy, and she pushed herself up to look at Lockwood. "Neither do you. Oh!" she exclaimed, thinking up a brilliant idea that was helped by the drinks in her system. "We should jus' kiss each other, then all of our problems will be solved!"
"I'm not sure about all, love," Lockwood chuckled, and Y/n's frown reappeared.
"So you don't want to kiss me?"
"I didn't say that," he replied, voice growing quiet. "I mean, if you're happy to then... you know. If you don't mind then I don't... we can kiss. If you want."
"I want. I'm not going to lie I've wanted to kiss you for years now. You're so prettyyyy and kind and funny and lovely." She had no control over her words, all of them flying out before she could properly stop and think, and then she was registering them and slapping her hand over her mouth while her face turned red. Lockwood was just staring at her, his mouth slightly open and his face flushed from the alcohol he had drunk, and she buried her head in his chest.
"Why are you hiding, love? You're pretty too, so I don't know why you're not letting me look at you." He was still stroking his fingers through her hair, and when she brought her head back up to smile softly at him he pulled her closer (although she hadn't thought that was possible).
"You're drunk, Lockwood."
"I'm not-sober. There's a difference. Besides, you're not-sober too," he wagged a finger at her with a smile. "Wait, what does me being not-sober have to do with you being pretty?"
"'Cause you don't know what you're saying."
"I know exactly what I'm saying, love." It was almost too much, the fondness in his eyes, and if she wasn't so captivated she would have looked away. "I've wanted to kiss you for years too, I was just never brave enough."
"Ten seconds!" Lucy yelled, and Y/n wondered just how long she'd been staring into Lockwood's eyes for time to pass so quickly.
"Nine!" the others gathered in the room started chanting, not noticing Lockwood and Y/n cuddled up on the sofa. "Eight! Seven! Six!" Lockwood pushed a strand of hair back behind Y/n's ear, his hand lingering at the side of her face and cupping her cheek. "Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!"
"Happy New Year, Lockwood," she whispered, brushing her nose against his.
"Happy New Year, Y/n/n," he whispered back, pressing his mouth to hers.
#lockwood and co#lockwood & co#anthony lockwood#anthony lockwood x reader#anthony lockwood x you#lockwood x reader
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Safe haven (5)
Soldier Boy/Ben X F!Paramedic!Reader
Summary: You go back to the station, and Ben realizes just how much he doesn't want you to go. He also finds out something very important about you
Warnings: foul language, sexual innuendos (Ben being ben), minors dni, minor drug use, slowest of burns (but eventual smut), no use of y/n
WC: 3.8k
A/N: see were making progress! I'm really happy I decided to give this story a second try. I found my old tag list so I will tag whoever had asked to be tagged for this series. If you had changed your mind feel free to shoot me an ask so I don't tag you in the next parts. Enjoy for now!
Previous part | Series Masterlist | Soldier Boy Masterlist
Thirteen months.
Thirteen fucking months.
Thirteen months of waking up the same, and for the first time, you didn't wake up in a sweat, face covered in tears. For the first time, you didn't wake up with that feeling of dread in your chest.
For the first time in thirteen months you woke up happy to be alive.
The hardwood floors were cold as you padded through your bedroom, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You were supposed to go back to the station today. You could only take so many sick days before you actually had to give a reason. You hadn't exactly told Ben of this yet. You still had a few hours before you were supposed to head to the station, you'd tell him soon enough.
You honestly broke your own record with how fast you got ready this early in the morning. You normally dragged yourself around the house, not knowing if you were even still alive or if you had become a phantom in your empty house. But lately, you didn't feel so gone.
You sat in front of your bureau, a reminder of the more vintage ambiance of your grandparents' farmhouse, one your father inherited, and later was left to you when your father retired with your mother somewhere with mountains. And your older brothers couldn't wait to see the day they left New York. And let's not talk about your sister, somewhere in Europe in some fancy five star hotel and some stuck up CEOs in tight suits driving her up a wall. She had been the only one out of the four children to not choose a field job like you and your brothers. So ultimately, the large farmhouse meant to house a family of six was left to just you.
But you guessed with Ben still around, it was like caring for three children all in one.
Your mind went to Ben, you wondered if he had slept at all. You often heard him walk late into the night. Or on restless nights of your own, you would sleepily walk into the kitchen to hear the TV play quietly in your living room, which always made you assume he was awake since he had taken possession of the guest bedroom by then. Your fingers mindlessly dug through the tiny box of your jewelry in search of your ear studs as you sat in thought. You still were unsure why he hadn't left. You knew he wasn't planning on leaving town anytime soon, with his fucked up idea of killing Homelander, somehow, but you had expected him to want to take care of his business on his own. Surely you knew he had learned his way around town by now, in spite of your protest, he had been to the city on his own a couple more times after your conversation.
And yet, he always came back.
Your mind slipped from your thoughts at the touch of a familiar ring. Your eyes slowly dropped to the box and you swallowed a lump as you held the tiny jewelry between your fingers. A silver band, the only diamonds being tiny and engraved into the thin band. You weren't one for hand jewelry, not with your job. That was one safety hazard if you knew one. So this ring, though simple, was perfect. And you hadn't dared look at it for a very long time.
Somehow, when you held it in your hand, you didn't feel pain, nor sorrow. You smiled with fondness instead.
You inhaled a deep breath as you set the ring down and dug through one of your drawers. It took you a minute, you had purposely hidden it well, in an attempt to forget about it perhaps, but you ultimately found it. A shaky laugh fell from your lips as you held the photo frame in your hands. That one black and white engraved frame you hung on your wall for years. You looked long and hard. It had been a long time since you had seen your wedding dress.
Another soft laugh left your lips as you held the photo in your hand, and tears filled your eyes. But this time, this time they weren't tears of sadness, or anger, or sorrow, no, they were tears of relief.
You felt that weight leave your chest and you could breathe again.
"Don't smoke that shit inside," You scolded Ben as you eventually came downstairs. You didn't see him right away, but you could smell the joint. You saw his head barely peeking from the couch. "You're gonna stink up the whole place."
Ben half took his eyes from the book in front of him— one you had bought him about PTSD and anxiety, one he chewed you about not needing, that he didn't have PTSD and whatnot. But you had caught him reading it the following day, so he didn't bother hiding it anymore.
"You literally bought me the fucking thing." Ben argued, sitting up and his eyes followed you as you walked back and forth, dressed like you were going somewhere, actually going somewhere.
"Don't care. It's my house, remember? Smoke outside or something. I really don't like going to the station reeking of weed." You answered back, shooting him a stern look before you found the pair of shoes you were looking for and shoved them inside your duffel bag.
Ben furrowed his eyebrows at you and set his book aside, fully sitting now, "You going somewhere?"
You tilted your head at his tone, demanding and authoritative. You widened your eyes at him as if to give him the obvious answer.
"I have a job, remember? The reason I found you in the first place? You said you couldn't just stay here forever right? Well neither can I." You said with a shrug and you left him with that, leaving him to go to the kitchen to make yourself coffee before having to drive out to the city.
You heard his heavy footsteps follow behind you, but you didn't bother looking at him, you could feel his eyes burning into the back of your head.
"So you were just gonna leave for days and not say shit?" Still that same tone. He sounded upset even.
You turned your head to look at him with disbelief, was he really angry about you leaving?
"I work forty-eight on and seventy-two off. I would've come back the day after tomorrow." You explained with a sigh, leaving the coffee brewing and basically shoving him out of your way as you went back and forth between the fridge and kitchen island. "Besides, I'm telling you now."
He was still in your way, large body acting as a wall in front of you and his eyes were sharp on following your every movement. You tried to ignore him and his brooding expression, but he made it pretty much impossible.
"Oh yeah, that's real fucking considerate of you sweetheart, thank you." He laughed, but his tone was anything but humorous, if anything it sounded like a mixture of exasperation and disbelief.
"Stop fussing. You sound like a child." You rolled your eyes at him, attempting to reach past him for one of the cabinets, but he stood in your way like a defiant child.
"Can't you, I don't know, ask for more days off?" You laughed at his question, which only made him furrow his eyebrows even deeper.
"How long do you think I've been here with you? I have a certain amount of sick days, I can't just take a whole week without reason," You explained, irritation starting to grow on you as well. Your answer didn't seem to convince him in the slightest, you groaned, "I have to work, Ben, I got bills to pay. You'll be fine on your own. Things are better now so you can do as you please, go where you please. Do your own thing."
He frowned at your words, his jaw ticking ever so slightly at the implication of your words. Were you telling him to leave?
Ben watched you finally reach past him to grab your favorite mug, and you were about to turn your back to him, but he grabbed your arm. Despite your short protest, he held you, pressing your back against the counter, keeping you between it and the wall that was his body. His eyes were hard on your face and his lips were in a tight line.
"I don't want to go anywhere. And I don't want you to, either." He sighed out, irritation of his own slipping through. He bowed his head, enough to speak to your eye level, and his piercing green eyes never left yours. "It's not safe out there."
"It never is, Ben. Not with super powered fuckers like you doing what they want out there. But I have a job I have to do. I helped you, did I not? It's what I do."
He understood, truly he did. He admired you even, for what you did, for the risks you took for the lives of others. But he wanted you to be selfish, he wanted you to put your own life first. You didn't understand how bad it had gotten.
"You're not hearing me. It's not safe. Remember that building collapse on 7th?" You parted your lips with confusion, unsure what that accident had to do with anything, but you nodded anyway. "Well it wasn't an accident. Fucking Homelander was trying to teach his little shit of a kid some target practice. Their fucking lasers and their flying tore through some unsupported part of the building and it collapsed."
Your eyes widened with realization. You saw it on the news, not even two days ago, the building was being remodeled and the construction was faulty, so all of the workers inside that building died. But you thought it was just some freak accident. God you felt so sick, if Ben hadn't been holding such a tight grip on your arm you probably would've slipped.
"Everyone inside that building died. They died because that motherfucker thought he could bond with his freak son in the middle of downtown. Do you understand how fucked up that is? And that's coming from me." He was still all up in your face, you didn't want to look at him. But you forced yourself to meet his eyes. And once again, you couldn't read the emotions behind his eyes, but you knew they were anything but good.
"Okay and what the fuck do you want me to do about that? I've been dealing with the aftermath of Vought's mess for years. I was there after Midtown for fuck's sake."
His jaw ticked at the mention and his eyes fell to the side averting yours. And for a second you regretted using that against him, knowing he had regretted it and had been making great efforts to avoid another tragedy like that.
"I didn't blow up half a block because I was bored for Christ sake. It ain't the same." He said sharply, but you didn't know if he was trying to convince you or himself. You opened your mouth to speak but he shook his head, moving away from you now. "I just want you here, out of my way while I take care of it. Why do you gotta be so goddamn stubborn?"
Your mouth was left open, looking for words to say, but none ever came. You were staring at him as he leaned back against the kitchen island, a hand in his hair as he exhaled heavily. Did he care that much about what happened to you? You knew he liked being around, or at least enough not to leave, but you figured he had become indifferent about you once he realized he wasn't getting in your bed.
"Ben," You said his name softly as you dared to stand close in front of him, enough for him to have to tilt his head to meet your eyes. He didn't look at you right away, so you continued. "I understand you want this guy gone, and I get it won't be pretty when you get to him, but you can't keep me here. I can take care of myself, been doing so for a while. I don't need protection."
Ben stared past your head, afraid that if he looked in your eyes he'd have no way to argue back, not when you spoke with such conviction and with that fire in your eyes. He looked up at the ceiling. He wasn't a religious man, he didn't pray, but right now he was begging his shit to stay far away from you.
"I need you out of my way. I want you far away from Supes. On the other fucking side of town far. Do you hear me?" He finally met your gaze, his eyebrows were pulled together as were his lips and his hands came up to hold your face.
"What are you getting yourself into? This won't end well." Your words were quiet as your face fixed into a frown of your own, your anxiety stronger than the warm feeling his hands brought you.
"We had this conversation before. Worry about yourself. I need you safe. If you get a call about aiding supes, that pretty ass of yours better turn the other fucking way."
You couldn't help but laugh a bit at his choice of words, but he squeezed your face tighter as if to show he wasn't joking. You sighed heavily.
"Just don't blow up half a block of innocent bystanders and I'll stray clear of your way. But I can't make any promises other than I'll take care of myself." You finally said, your hands coming to pull his wrists, the feeling of his hands touching your face with such tenderness yet warning made you feel things you weren't sure you wanted to feel. "Now I'll ask that you let me finish getting ready to work because I know I can't outrun you even if I tried."
His lips irked up, "I'd let you try. But it would probably end with you on your back. Definitely wouldn't be leaving this house for days."
The smirk he gave you left you feeling heat in your face and you wanted to punch something. How did this man end up making you feel this way after so long? Why him out of all men? Life truly just couldn't give you a break.
"Fuuuuck. Goddammit." Ben cursed at himself as he threw the cushions back on the couch.
He had been looking for that one post note that had your cell number on it. You had left early that morning and he hadn't heard from you since, the sun was starting to set now. He was feeling restless, with an ache in his chest like he wanted to blow something up. Not even the weed had been helping him.
Where the fuck did you leave that note?
He had looked everywhere. Everywhere but your bedroom. He hadn't stepped foot in your bedroom in the time had been here, not once. You never invited him in, so he never went. He was a dick, but even then, there were some lines he couldn't cross. But he ran out of options and places to look. You didn’t have to know he was in your bedroom. It wasn’t like he would touch— much.
He wasn't sure what exactly he was expecting, you obviously weren’t the type to decorate your space with expensive shit. But even then he thought your bedroom matched you perfectly. He walked in, eyeing around for any surfaces where you could have possibly left it. He walked around like a lost child for a minute or two until he ultimately stopped at your bureau. He spotted a notepad and a pen scattered on the vanity.
Seriously?
He rolled his eyes at you, wondering just how the fuck he was supposed to just know you had left it here? He grabbed the notepad, a phone number scribbled in your handwriting in big letters. He ripped out the page, intending to leave your bedroom as soon as possible, before his curiosity got the best of him. But he couldn’t help himself, he was hyperaware by nature. And his eyes found a ring, what he thought looked like an engagement ring just sitting on your vanity. It was hard to miss. He didn’t think about it, he picked it up. He eyed the thin silver band with narrowed eyes, it was definitely an engagement ring.
Were you engaged?
The gears turned in his head as he held the ring between his fingers. He tried to remember if he had seen any signs that another man had lived here. He didn’t remember. You had given him clothes that fit him pretty well, but you had brushed it off as just having brothers. He believed you then, but now? He was questioning it.
He set the ring down and went through your drawers. Just underwear. You had a lot of lacy shit. He smirked a bit at the image of you in a lacy lingerie set. God, he would kill for that. Though he didn’t have time to get hard at the thought when his fingers touched a photo frame hiding in between a layer of clothes. He took it and his eyes grew in size.
You, in a wedding dress and a man embracing you. He frowned at the photo. You clearly had a type. The man in the photo looked taller, taller than you at least, long brown hair that was tucked behind the man’s ears and fair skin. God, you looked so happy. A smile so wide, you were glowing, you looked so beautiful.
Ben chewed on the inside of his cheek with disdain as he dropped the frame on the vanity, rather harshly. He huffed out a breath of exasperation, his skin growing hot. His fists were clenched at his sides as he walked around your bedroom some more. You were married, you must’ve kept your husband’s things somewhere, right?
Your walk-in closet door was closed. He pursed his lips as he invited himself in. His eyes grew a bit. Jesus, why did this woman have so many clothes? He shook his head to himself as he looked around. It was mostly your clothes, and your shoes were scattered all over the floor. He kept looking though, and he found a corner, men’s clothes hung from hangers. They definitely looked like the clothes you had given him. A couple boxers were backed into the corner. And out of the corner of his eye he saw a name scribbled in black marker.
Hunter.
“No seriously, how's Rowan holding up? Parenting beating his ass yet?” You laughed at the question from your buddy, Michael. You thought about what answer to give, you had never actually gone to see your brother after all, but everyone at the station thought so.
“He said he was really missing the station, he would actually get a full night's sleep there.” You weren’t lying, you talked to your brother regularly. They laughed in response.
You opened your mouth to comment some more, but you were cut off by your phone ringing in your pocket. You scrunched up your face a bit as you looked at your phone screen. It read; landline. You closed your eyes in realization, your heart started to race.
What did he do now?
You excused yourself to answer the call. With a long sigh you held your phone to your ear.
“You can’t figure out a cell phone but you still remember how to use a landline?”
You heard a low chuckle from the other end, “They’re simpler. The amount of things on your phone is unsettling.”
“They’re called apps, you old man.” You snorted, leaning your shoulder into a wall, your lips irked up at the sound of him grumbling to himself. “What do you want, Ben? Did you burn my kitchen down, or did you blast a hole through a wall?”
“Christ, what I would give to shut that smart mouth of yours. You must give mind blowing head if you work like you talk.” He said the words so casually you had to hold your phone away from you to process. You closed your eyes and groaned out softly.
“You’re disgusting, and I’m at work. If you just called to antagonize me I'm hanging up.”
“Aw c’mon. I just wanted to hear your voice, play nice.” You rolled your eyes, you could just hear the smirk roll off his tongue with each word. You could see that stupid smirk on his face in your head. At least he couldn’t see you, because you couldn’t hide the flustered look on your face.
“Why do you want to hear my voice?” You dared to ask, lowering your voice so as not to overshare with your coworkers, you hadn't exactly mentioned you had a walking hard on hiding in your house.
“So I can finish rubbing one out.”
“I’m hanging up now.” You were moving your phone away from your ear again when you heard him protest, saying your name with a laugh. You groaned again.
“Okay, okay, c’mon loosen up. You know you missed me,” He chuckled, sniffling softly as he puffed out a cloud of smoke, you weren’t there to yell at him. You bit your lip softly, you were trying to force away a smile, but you couldn't prevent your face from heating up. Your silence made him laugh in a way that made your stomach turn. “You doing okay? You haven’t found my replacement yet, have you?”
“Working on it,” You chewed on your bottom lip, looking over your shoulder. The guys had started running around, shouting indistinct orders. Well shit. “Listen, I think we got a call. I’m fine Ben. Stop fussing. I gotta go.”
Ben sucked in a sharp breath, he kept his mouth shut as he heard you speak to somebody on your end, and he couldn't help his chest ached with anxiety. “Listen sweetheart—”
He caught himself mid sentence, he wasn’t the most rational man on earth, he normally didn’t give a fuck about rationality, but maybe, maybe right now just wasn’t the time. So he swallowed his pride.
“Stay safe.” He finally said, his eyes glued to the ceiling as he dropped his head back against the wall.
“You too Ben.”
He flinched at the loud beeping in his ear and he grunted, slamming the phone back on the wall. He squeezed his eyes shut, holding back the urge to slam his fist through the wall. He hated this feeling, the lack of control he had. Fuck. He had way more important things to worry about. Find Butcher and the kid, kill Homelander, clear his name. Why the fuck did he care so much about a piece of ass he couldn’t even have?
You’ve gotten soft, Ben.
#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy x you#soldier boy smut#soldier boy#safe haven#safe haven series
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The 57.1% Bad Idea 🔞
WC: 3602 (3.6K)
Genres: fluff, smut, E2L
Tags: slight corruption kink, oc is a virgin, dom! yoongi, sub! reader, dom/sub elements, no titles set for this so not proper bdsm but yk, big dick yoongi, praise!!!!!!, oc is a tomboy in the streets and a pillow princess in the sheets send tweet, i am going to hell for this but i blame yoongi’s sexiness for it, this was supposed to be a lot kinkier originally but i’m too soft for soft dom yoongi.
Warnings: tipsy (but consensual!) sex, protected sex, age difference in reader & yoongi (10 years), oc is 23, myg is 33.
You might be new to the industry, but you know when someone is fucking with you.
Of course, you’ve heard all the rumours. How the legendary BTS are workaholics, working up to 18 hours a day when they first debuted. You get that, and to be honest, you respect it. But they’re not newly debuted kids anymore, damn it! It is 2026 already, 13 years since their debut, but all of the members are still grinding their damn gears like it’s day one. And fine, you can respect the dedication, but that doesn’t warrant the hell a certain Min Yoongi — also known as Producer Min — has been putting you through.
You don’t see the celebrity face to face due to his killer schedules, but you get many annoying emails from him ever since you started working as one of the new in-house producers. Redo this, this isn’t what I’m looking for, the members don’t like the key on this one, and over and over.
You let it slide the first 5 or so times, but it’s getting old now. You’re only 23 years old damn it, not an old man like that Min Yoongi guy must be, that all he does is sit and write music! You have a life.
But no one cares because this is the oh so great BTS you have to serve hand and foot.
You’re out for dinner with your friends when Min Yoongi emails you at 8pm. Who is even logged into their work email that late? This multi-millionaire, apparently.
You sigh, putting down your utensils to pick up your phone. You brace yourself for another email where Yoongi tells you that you don’t meet his high standards. Go figure.
Hello Miss Y/L/N. I looked at your arrangement, but it still needs some cleaning up.
If you recall, this is the 5th email I have sent you and we are still not communicating. Can you call me instead?
You want to bang your head against a wall. It is a Friday night. Who the hell wants to call a man 10 years their senior and be lectured on a Friday night?
“Y/N, where are you going?” Your friends ask.
“To deal with an asshole named Min Yoongi.”
“Min Yoongi?!?” Your friend gasps. You sigh internally. You forget some of your friends are ARMYs, hence why you never complain about how annoying Min Yoongi is to them. “Did he give you his number? Are you going to see him? Can I get a—”
“Yes I have his number. I don’t know if I have to see him tonight. And no, I won’t get you a signed album.” You answer, reading your friend’s mind. Your other friends all laugh as Sunmi looks disappointed. You sigh, smiling at her. “Work is work. I love you but sorry. I gotta go.”
Understanding work, your friends let you go.
You get out of the restaurant, still cursing Yoongi. You get in your car and dial the number Yoongi gave you.
“Hello?” Yoongi picks up on the third ring. You scowl. As if he didn’t know I was gonna call.
You plaster your work smile on, knowing you’re really fucked if you piss Min Yoongi off. You might not like the guy, but a girl has bills to pay. “Hello Producer Min. It’s me, Y/N.”
“Producer Y/L/N.” Yoongi corrects you, and you roll your eyes. “Where are you at the moment?”
“I’m out right now with my friends.” You set boundaries firmly. “I am not at work, but if you can show me what you meant, I will fix up the arrangement accordingly.”
Yoongi scoffs. Your blood boils. “How will you know what I mean unless you have your laptop out? You’re awfully cocky for a new hire.”
You clench the steering wheel tight with one hand. “I am not working at the moment, Producer Min. It is 8 pm.”
Yoongi laughs at you. Like, actually laughs. “Do you know we need this song recorded by Wednesday? If I don’t have a clean instrumental, how is my team supposed to record it?”
There it is, the inevitable scolding. You pull down the little fold-away sun blocker/mirror thing in your car and check your makeup. You got dressed up cute tonight, a white floral dress and light pink eyeshadow and matching pink lipstick. Your hair is even styled back in a cute half up half down hairstyle. You don’t usually look so girly, preferring comfortable clothes like sweats and tshirts, though you respect girls who put in that effort every day. But for you, the reason is your friend from college, Nate, is stopping by later tonight. You had always had a crush on him since you sat in lectures together.
You hate the idea of Yoongi being the one to see you so cute and especially hate having a meeting with him instead of getting to see Nate tonight.
But a girl has bills to pay. “What would you like me to do?” You ask.
“I have an at-home studio that I work in on the weekends. Stop by just for thirty minutes and then go back to your friends.”
You roll your eyes. You already told your friends goodbye. Besides, it would be weird to just butt back in again after leaving. You close the mirror and fold it up. Guess your only date tonight is Min Yoongi. “Please text me your address. I will be there soon.”
🎀🎀🎀
You hate the look on Min Yoongi’s face when you walk up to him in the underground parking lot. You hate rich people and their fancy apartments. It took you forever to convince the security guard in the front that yes, you were a guest of Min Yoongi despite your run down car from college. And then, when you get through that hassle, you find Yoongi waiting at the elevator with a card in hand to swipe you in.
If you were gonna be nice, you could’ve told the security guard I was coming. You frown, bowing hello.
“I should’ve told the security guard you were coming, huh?” Yoongi grins at you, tapping the card to get inside. You jolt in surprise, wondering if this mean producer is also a mind-reader. You eye him suspiciously as you get in the elevator. It’s a fancy elevator with luxurious looking buttons and the logo of the fancy apartment complex this building is in. But you’re more nervous about the fact that Yoongi just read your mind.
Seeing you look shocked, Yoongi presses the button for the 7th floor. “I saw you showing your work ID to the security guard at the front.” He says. You clench your teeth. If he knew, why not help you? Damn rich people.
You follow Yoongi when the doors open on the 7th floor. The apartment hall looks kind of like a fancy hotel until you get to Yoongi’s door and he taps his own passcode to get in.
The house is deceivingly large for an apartment, all black and white coloured vases, art on the walls, and black marble floors that are definitely worth more than your life savings. You follow Yoongi, walking on eggshells already. He leads you past a fancy living room with white sofas and an all black kitchen and upstairs to the second floor. With his back to you, you openly marvel at how cool everything is. You guess being a crazy workaholic does pay out for some people.
🎀🎀🎀
It’s nearing midnight now and you’re still stuck here with Yoongi. The work is finally done, but at the cost of your sanity and Yoongi’s incessant nagging.
Feeling your irritation, Yoongi makes the rare attempt at a peace offering. “Should we have a glass of whiskey now that we’re done working?”
Tired but unable to resist the temptation of some good alcohol, you take up his offer. “Sure.”
Yoongi steps away from his computer, walking away down the hall to the kitchen. In a few minutes, he returns with a bottle of alcohol and two small glasses. “It’s 57.1% alcohol. Can you drink that strong?” He asks, arching a brow. Your ego flairs.
“Yes.” You reply confidently, knowing good and well you’re a lightweight. You let him pour you a glass, then take a sip. As expected, it burns, and not particularly in a good way.
“Who are you all dolled up for anyway; is it a guy you like?” Yoongi asks curiously.
“No, that guy has a girlfriend.” You admit, not sure why you’re having this conversation with Yoongi.
Yoongi frowns. “So? Can’t you be pretty for yourself?”
You sigh. “I can, but it’s still disappointing. I wanted to be his really bad.” You mumble.
“...In...Be his in what way?”
You drink down the rest of the alcohol, shocking Yoongi, who stares at you. You muster up your courage, feeling the alcohol already starting to sink in. “What do you mean, exactly?”
Yoongi clears his throat, continuing to work. “Never mind.”
“I wanted to date him.” You admit, sober enough to know you’ll regret saying this tomorrow but tipsy enough to not care at this moment. “I wanted to get close to him and maybe… I don’t know.”
“Maybe what?” Yoongi pushes you.
You look down at your phone. “Maybe...do that with him.”
Yoongi is frowning at you now. “You mean sex?” You fluster so bad at the word you drop your phone, right into a pile of cables under Yoongi’s desk.
You sigh loudly, no longer hiding how frustrated you are. You get out of your chair and onto your knees, lowering your head to look around for your phone. Just your luck, it’s stuck in a pile of wires.
Noticing you fumble with it, Yoongi’s legs turn toward you. “Need some help with that?”
You look up as much as you can from under the table. You find yourself looking right into Min Yoongi’s piercing black eyes. They’re dark from a hazy look in them and the shadows cast by his bangs. You have only just realized you’re sitting between his legs. When Yoongi smirks at you, you bang your head on the underside of the desk. Yoongi laughs under his breath at you, but doesn’t move.
You grab your phone and push up on Yoongi’s knee to stand. But just your luck, you slip on your stockings.
Before you can fall flat on your face, a pair of large hands wrap around your waist and pull you into Yoongi’s lap. You let out a noise as you fall, but Yoongi is unfazed as you fall against him. His strong arms wrap around your back, holding you sideways on top of him.
“S-Sorry.” You blurt immediately, turning away from his face. Too close!
You try to get up, but Yoongi’s arms tighten around you. “What are you sorry for Y/N?” He asks in a low, deep voice. A shiver runs down your spine at how he’s looking at you. Then, he smirks. “Drunk from just one sip of my whiskey?”
You shake your head, trying to get up again. You absentmindedly place a hand on Yoongi’s chest to get up, but freeze when you feel his strong muscles through your shirt. A little tipsy, you’re not very quick-minded and linger a moment. “What’s wrong, Y/N?”
“Producer Min…” You whisper, swallowing audibly. “I think I need to go home.”
“Makes sense since it’s late. But I drank so I can’t drive you.”
“I can get a cab.” You say, looking at your hand on his chest. Was his chest always that wide and strong? You blush.
“What about your car? You will have to leave it here if you catch a cab. Won’t you need that for work on Monday?”
You pout. “Can’t I come get it later?”
Yoongi shakes his head. “Guest parking isn’t allowed for more than 12 hours. It’ll get towed if you leave it here”
You frown. “Meanie.”
Yoongi grins at how cute you look. “Sorry doll, I didn’t make the rules.”
You sigh. You don’t know who to call to come get you either. Most of your friends are probably drunk by now since it’s Friday night, and it’s not like you can tell your parents to pick you up drunk from a guy’s house at midnight.
“...Producer Min.” You start hesitantly. Yoongi continues grinning at you, which is oddly scarier than if he was frowning. “C-Could I borrow a room tonight?”
Yoongi’s eyebrows lift. “You’re the youngest producer in our company and I’m the most senior artist. Do you think you’re allowed to do that?”
You wriggle in Yoongi’s lap in frustration, making him tighten his hold on you. His smile falls away to a dark look. “Behave.” Yoongi says, stirring something inside of you.
“I know I’m not allowed but it’s not my fault! You’re the one that made me come here.”
“You’re the one that didn’t do a good job in the first place.” Yoongi rebuttals.
You let out a whine in frustration. “Yoongi! Can’t you ever be nice to me? I did my best, I really did!” You don’t know why the hell Min Yoongi’s standards are so high in the first place, you always did amazing on your assignments when you majored in music!
“Yoongi?” Yoongi repeats. He leans in, making you flush and look away. As you bury your head in his shoulder, he whispers in your ear. “Is that what behaving looks like, doll?”
“Ugh, just tell me if I can borrow the room!” You demand but Yoongi doesn’t entertain you at all.
“Do you know what I think this looks like?” Yoongi’s low voice sends chills all over your body. His hands slowly rub circles in unison, one on the back of your thighs and the other on your lower back. You stay completely still, although you’re not sure why, anticipating what he is going to say. “I think you’re acting up because I got in the way of you losing your virginity tonight.”
You gasp at how Yoongi reads your mind again. You hadn’t told anyone that, not even your best friend but somehow Yoongi knew. Yes, in your ideal case, Nate would return your feelings and you could hook up tonight. It’s not like you’re waiting for marriage, just that you’ve never liked a guy enough to do it yet.
So why are the insides of your thighs so sticky just from Min Yoongi(the man you hate)’s words?
You whimper against the side of Yoongi’s neck when his hand on the back of your thigh brushes close to the space between your thighs. If he presses any closer to your core, he would feel how wet you are.
“Is that true, Y/N?” Yoongi whispers, dangerously sweet. You whine again as he pulls one of your bra straps through the material of your dress and lets it snap against your back. “Give me an answer.”
“Y-Yes. I wanted to lose my virginity tonight.” You admit, embarrassed at how breathless you are.
“Should I make up for it then?” Yoongi asks.
You gasp. You push off and this time Yoongi lets you. You stand up, blushing.
Yoongi stands slowly, no longer cheeky. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes sincerely. He looks away. “I-It must’ve been the whiskey. God, what am I doing? You're ten years younger than me. Here, let me call you a driver.” He rambles, pulling out his cellphone.
You put a hand on his wrist, startled by his sharp change in attitude. Yoongi stills under your touch. He looks at you with worry. “Do you want to go home? Or you can borrow my room. I-I mean the extra one. It has a lock on the door, don’t worry.” Yoongi flusters, talking faster now.
“Y--Min PD.” You say, finally making him look at you. “It’s okay.”
Yoongi still shakes his head. “No, I was...I was overconfident. And I crossed a professional boundary tonight. It’s not okay, and you don’t need to forgive me for making you uncomfortable--”
You silence him with a kiss.
Yoongi pauses, then pulls away from the kiss. He holds you at arms length. “Y/N.” He says it extremely seriously. “What did that just mean?”
You look down. “...Isn’t that what I should do to s-start us?”
Yoongi cups your face and makes you look at him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said something so insensitive. Personally, I don’t really think virginity is a thing, but if it matters to you then it matters. I won’t force you.”
“Yoongi, I want to.” You say sincerely. Yoongi blushes. “I haven’t been waiting for anyone special or anything. It’s… I never decided to go all the way.”
Yoongi hesitates. “Are you sure?”
You nod. Yoongi sighs in relief. “Thank god. I was going crazy from how pretty you look.” He admits, before leaning in to kiss you senseless.
You shiver at his touch, pulling him in closer.
“Like that, baby?” Yoongi kisses your neck. You whine and wrap your arms around his neck.
“Yes, yes.” You answer, and he scoops you up into his arms, leading you towards his bedroom.
“Good.” Yoongi chuckles. He lays you down gently like a bride, then begins looking for a condom in his bedside drawer.
“W-What about you?” You ask.
Yoongi returns with the condom and a bottle of lube beside him, peering at you curiously. You flush at the sight of his hard cock which he easily slides a large condom on top of without breaking eye contact with you. “What do you mean?”
“A-Are you okay?” You ask, not sure how to sexily reaffirm consent. Yoongi laughs, really laughs. He leans down and presses a delicate kiss to your forehead.
“Yes sweetheart.” He chuckles.
When you wriggle under him, his gaze darkens. “Behave.” He whispers in your ear, nipping at your earlobe. You yelp, making him laugh again as he rubs his hands up and down your sides.
He works three fingers inside you again, checking that you’re not still tense before he presses the head of his cock to your entrance. You whimper at the stretch, making Yoongi hesitate. “Need more time, doll?” he asks, pressing his forehead against yours.
“N-No.” You reply, squeezing your eyes shut. Slowly, Yoongi enters inch by inch until he’s in to the hilt. You grip his shoulders, waiting for the slight burn to fade. Yoongi does a great job warming you up, but his cock is just a bit too big for you to take comfortably. “Y-Yoongi.”
Yoongi lets out a breathy moan. “Yes baby?” He asks.
“F-Feels so full.” You breathe out, making Yoongi grip your hips tighter.
“Yeah baby? Feel full of me?” He urges you on, voice deep and husky from arousal. He waits until you’re comfortable, looking up at him with hazy eyes to start moving. He starts slow, making you arch up but he holds you down firmly. “Want me to use you up properly since it’s your first time, huh? That’s why you keep acting like a brat.” He punctuates the word with a deep thrust that has you scrambling for purchase in the sheets.
You whine and Yoongi finally has enough of it. He takes both of your hands in one of his and pins them above your head. He picks up his pace, eyes never looking away from your body. He watches you strain to arch up against his hold with a cocky smile, before pressing kisses to your breasts. “Good girl.” he praises when you stop fighting for control, dissolving completely into a pile of whimpers. “So good. So fucking wet.” Yoongi growls, picking up his pace.
“Y-Yoongi!” You cry out and he silences you with a hot, powerful kiss.
“I know, baby.” He reassures, unspoken promise in his voice. “I’m here.”
“Y-Yoongi.” You warn a few moments later, and Yoongi gives your cheek a kiss.
“Trust me, baby. I’ll let you come.” He promises, and you nod, believing him.
Finally, Yoongi’s hips start to stutter, and he reaches between your legs and rubs your clit. He pulls you flush against him when you come, trembling from how good it was.
“Good girl. So sweet for me.” He praises, peppering your face with kisses. You wrap your arms around his middle and sigh in satisfaction.
The two of you lay there like that for an indefinite time, until you speak up. “Yoongi?”
“Yes, baby?” He asks, rubbing the back of your head.
“Am I gonna get fired for this?”
Yoongi pulls back and looks at you. “Why would you get fired for us dating?”
You’re surprised. “We’re dating?”
Yoongi blushes. “I mean, unless you don’t want to. Either way, no one will find out because it’s just between—”
“Can we take it slow? My head is spinning right now.” You giggle. Yoongi smiles warmly at you.
“Of course. But first let me clean you up.” He says, and you let him carry you to the bathroom.
In the shower, Yoongi once again proves he is true to his word. He cleans you up and changes the bedsheets. While he’s changing them, he brings you a cup of tea while you wait and kisses your forehead.
“Yoongi, have you had a crush on me this whole time?” You ask, once situated in bed again.
“Haven’t you?”
You think about it, then grin. “I guess I just needed some liquid courage to realize it.”
Yoongi snorts, pulling you in closer. “That was the best purchase of my life.”
#bts fanfic#bts x reader#bts x y/n#bts x you#yoongi fanfic#yoongi smut#yoongi x reader#yoongi x y/n#yoongi x you#bts smut
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Be My Mistake
pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
word count: 1.5k
warnings: sadness, relationship memories, fluff, alcohol consumption, horrible dad jokes, mention of FEET, tiny make out neck sucking in public,
a/n be fed children. enjoy. bonus at the end 😉
listen to ‘Be My Mistake’ by The 1975 bc that is what I based this fic on, hence the lyrics
summary Joel regrets his breakup with Y/N and re lives some memories
masterlist
join the tag list
read time: 5 mins 40 seconds
His heart beat fast in his chest. He sat propped up against his bedroom door, one leg extended in front of him the other one arched.
He missed you more than ever. Life was so dull without you. He yearned for you, craved you. Just one moment of bliss he prayed for. All he had left was the memories.
The thought of you plagued his mind. The argument you two had was plain out stupid. He struggled to remember what it was really even about. Had he just made the biggest mistake?
She bought me those jeans; The ones you like.
“I like the dark wash ones better, personally.” you said, hands on your hips with your head tilted.
Joel held up the two pairs they had found in a storage container. One for him, one for Tommy.
“I dunno, you think the lightwash will be better for the summer?” he asked mockingly, making a joke.
“Most definitely,” you chuckled back, taking the dark wash pair from him. “Dark wash then?” he asked. You nodded your head. “I like that color better on you anyways. Brings out your eyes,”
You folded the pair of Joel’s new jeans and stuck them in your backpack.
The pair he was wearing now.
He took his finger and thumb and moved a bit of the fabric in between his fingers.
I don’t want to hug; I just want to sleep. The smell of your hair; reminds me of her feet.
The cold January night hummed past your creaky old window. Joel begged for sleep, but the wind was keeping him awake.
“You want me to hold you?” you asked, your cold breathe falling on his face. “No,” he said stubbornly.
The two of you lay close in the many blankets you had wrapped around yourselves.
The windows chattered from the wind, making you jump a little.
“It’s only the wind darlin’,” he assured you.
The smell of your freshly washed hair filled his senses. Strawberry, from your new shampoo you picked up from the resource station.
The soothing scent of you and the warmness of the blankets set Joel into a daze. Sleep was there, he could see it.
He was awoken as you moved your cold feet under the blanket and onto his bare leg.
“Jesus Y/N!” he croaked, flinching back. “Get some goddamn socks,”
You smiled to yourself, letting a breathe of air out of your nose. “If you have such a problem with it, you go get me some.”
Joel suddenly grabbed your waist, pulling you closer to him. You let out a tiny yelp from the surprising move.
“Don’t put your nasty ass feet on me again. Good night, my love.”
He kissed the top of your head and closed his eyes.
Just wait till I give you a sign; ‘Cause I get lonesome sometimes.
At the beginning of your relationship you kept it on the low. Very low in fact, Maria’s nosy self found out when she suspected you two were switching patrol partners a little too often to be with each other.
So during that stage, you two had a signal.
If he needed you, or you needed him just to talk or be with each other, you would rub the side of your nose.
The room was filled with board members of Jackson. Joel had been sitting in the boring meeting about infrastructure and electricity for hours.
Another member had requested coffee, and coincidentally you were the one who brought it up to them.
Joel was relieved to see your smiling face after the hours spent in that dull room. He made eye contact with you and rubbed the side of his nose.
You sat down the coffee tray and returned the gesture.
You left and turned the corner, waiting for him. Joel excused himself to the bathroom, putting the meeting on hold.
His head crept around the corner and found you leaning up against the wall playing with the bottom end of your braid.
“God, I missed you.” he whispered, grabbing your waist. You kissed him, his dry lips moving softly against yours.
“Boring meeting?” you asked, draping your arms around his shoulders. “Boring isn’t a strong enough word to describe that meeting.” he smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
“Well, I’m glad it’s almost over. You coming over tonight?” you asked him, staring into his dark eyes.
“When am I not,” he sighed, pressing his lips against your neck. You took in a sharp breathe as his lips attached themselves to you, sucking your soft skin. Your hand moved through his coarse hair.
“J-Joel it’s gonna leave a mark,” you stuttered, trying to convince yourself you weren’t enjoying this.
“Hmm. Maybe that’s a good thing,” he smirked, giving you one more small kiss on the lips.
“I’m finishing that tonight!” he said, walking back down the hallway.
Save all the jokes you’re going to make; While I see how much drink I can take
“There’s no way I’m even taking a sip.” you bragged, crossing your arms as Joel poured the bottle of Gin into two glasses.
“We’ll see about that,” he said, cracking his neck on both sides and cracking his fingers out in front of him.
“Alright. Shoot your best shot, Miller.”
“Why do bees have sticky hair?” he asked, pushing your glass closer to you.
“I dunno,”
“Because they use a honeycomb.”
Your face stayed plastered emotionless.
“Oh, come on.” he whined, taking a fast sip of his drink.
“Okay, okay. My turn.” you said, trying to think of your best dad joke.
“What kind of music do chiropractors like?”
“Beats me,”
“Hip pop,”
Joel’s stone face quivered a bit, his lip moving into a slight smirk.
“Ha!” you yelled, calling out his broken poker face. “What? What?” he asked, admitting his defeat. “I didn’t do anything,” he complained, picking up the cup and taking a sip.
“Okay. My turn.” he said, eyes pointing like daggers into yours.
“Why do nurses like red crayons?”
“I dunno Joel, tell me.”
“Sometimes they have to draw blood.”
Your top lip folded on to your bottom one.
“That was bad.” you sighed, holding your breathe and taking a sip.
“Final one, final one.” he insisted.
“A horse walks into a bar,”
“Oh this better be good,” you scoffed.
“The bartender greets him and says ‘Hey’. The horse says ‘yes please’.”
Your smile returns to your face along with your blush.
“That wouldn’t have been funny if we weren’t just in the stables,” you sighed, admitting your defeat.
Another sip.
I shouldn’t have called; ‘Cause we shouldn’t speak.
Joel hovered over his landline, heart re broken by the memories he just re lived in his head.
They were so vivid, a little too vivid for him. The long day out working and the feeling of agony he’s felt over the past week has been eating him alive. He couldn’t believe it’s been a week since he’s spoken to you, since he’s touched you. How could he have gone that long?
He had your number memorized. All those secret late night calls he could never forget. His heart raced like a teenage girl as he dialed those numbers.
“Hello?” you said perkily, answering the phone. Your meer tone set him off, panicking. Why didn’t he think of something to say? Why did you sound so happy? We’re you not hurting like he was? This is so stupid.
“Hello?” you asked again. Joel cleared his throat.
“Hey,” he sighed.
He heard the shortness of your breathe caught through the phone. “Oh,” you sighed. “Maybe we shouldn’t speak,” you asked, your tone so much more saddened than it was. You were also in mourning of the beautiful relationship you two once had.
‘I shouldn’t have called’ Joel thought to himself.
Fuck it.
He sighed. Joel needed to get out what he had been wanting to say.
“I-I’ve been thinking,” Joel said. “About you know…”
“Us?” you asked, finishing his sentence. “Yeah,”
“Maybe this was… maybe this was a mistake Y/N. I-I don’t think I can handle this for much longer. I can’t have you be my mistake.”
“Really?” you asked, hope reigniting in your voice. “What did we even fight about anyways?” you asked him. “Honestly, I can’t even remember.” he laughed.
You two paused for a moment, enjoying just the closeness through the phone in that moment.
“So…” you said, breaking the silence.
“You want to come over?”
“How could I resist,” Joel said, his smile widening. “I’ll be over in a few. See you soon, my love.”
Bonus:
“Psst, look.” Maria whispered to Tommy. They say on their front porch, Maria was cleaning her gun and Tommy was reading over patrol reports.
Crickets chirped and mayflies flew around their porch lamp.
His head shot up, squinting in the darkness. “What?” he asked. “Y/N’s house- quick. Look.”
And there he saw his brother walking up your driveway. He had a fruity skip in his walk. “Well I’ll be damned,” Tommy laughed, putting his paper down next to him.
“Woahhhh,” Maria said, shocked. You opened the door and immediately embraced him, giving him a long passionate kiss.
Joel looked around his surroundings and scuffled into your house, slamming the door behind him.
“I knew they would be back together. I called it.” Tommy chuckled, rocking back on his rocking chair.
“And you thought they were dunsos for real.” Tommy taunted his wife, poking his finger into her shoulder.
tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean
#peterparkersnose#pedro pascal#joel miller#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller angst#joel miller fluff#joel miller fan fiction#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller imagine#pedro pascal joel miller#joel miller one shot#joel miller masterlist#joel miller the last of us#pedro pascal joel miller the last of us#pedro pascal joel miller the last of us fanfiction#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller the last of us hbo#joel miller the last of us imagine#joel miller the last of us fluff#joel miller the last of us fan fiction#joel miller the last of us fanfiction#troy baker#ellie williams#the last of us#peterparkersnosework
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So, What Now?(Rehabili/Cohabi-Tation)
CHAPTER 1: In Which there is an Announcement and an Offer Between Friends Ex-Enemies
FIC TAGS: Eventual Whirl/Cyclonus/Tailgate, Cyclonus/Tailgate, polyamory, slowburn romance, mutual pining, slice of life, fluff, comedy, eventual smut(planned for later chapters), sappy mushy lovey stuff, polycue, May eventually have illustrations
The Lost Light has a brand new universe to explore! But everyone's still tired from the old one! In the interim between wacky hijinks, a solution is offered to those bored to death by peacetime- Why form a club about it or renovate your hab suite of course!
Whirl doesn't know how he feels about all the pep. And even worse, he doesn't know how to feel about Cyclonus and Tailgate wanting him to join in on their clean slate.
Chapter 2 Here!
Chapter 3 Here!
Chapter 4 Here!
Chapter 5 Here!
Chapter 6 Here!
Chapter 7 Here!
Chapter 8 Here!
_________________________
Author's Notes: I think about Whirl Cyclonus and Tailgate EVERY DAY. They deserve the world, and so I'm going to give it to them.
“So! As we enter our new universe, and plunge into a world of endless possibility, there’s some important things we’d like to take the time to discuss!”
With a world of infinite possibility and endless promise stretching out before them, one would think- rather one would hope, pray even- that it would be impossible to be bored.
But apparently, once the lost light ripped a hole from one universe to the next, anything was possible. And Whirl was truly, deeply, madly bored. It had only been a deca-cycle and a half since the big jump, and for him, the promise and possibility was waning. It seemed like the crew was set on ‘taking a beat’(ugh) before jumping into anything too risky. Something about healing and resting up after such a climactic series of battles (snore) before running headfirst into more danger. In all honesty, during Rodimus’s disjointed address informing the crew of that matter, Whirl had found it more interesting to do literally anything else.
Like people watching. If there was anything good about the break, it at least gave him the time to take stock of the new energy in the place. There was a denta rotting saccharine cloud of hope and joy in the air. For the first few cycles Whirl had taken part in it as well, the partying, the smiling, the laughing, the dancing, et cetera. But now it was getting a bit old. A bit old was an understatement even.
It seemed like every other bot was hand in hand with someone, or standing a bit too close. Hell even the captain’s balcony reeked of love and joy. Whirl wasn’t a stick in the mud, but it felt like the ~positive and loving vibes~ were pinging off his plating like a constant series of annoying flicks and pokes.
He shuffled a ways back deeper into the crowd, offlining his optic for a brief moment to let the mumbles of the crew wash over him. When he onlined it again, it was in response to a familiar voice-
“Whirl! Hey- Whirl!” Tailgate chirped, waving at the taller bot from his spot sitting next to Cyclonus. They’d been attached at the hip recently, disgustingly cute, a set of words Whirl never thought he’d use in reference to Cyclonus.
Whirl raised his servo, letting him know he was heard as he shuffled on over towards the loverbots. “What’s up?” He asked, cocking his helm and leaning against the wall next to them.
“Isn’t that super exciting- what Rodimus said?” Tailgate whispered, craning up to him. Whirl leaned down a bit to close the distance. Frag it was kinda hard to have a politely hushed conversation with this height difference.
“Huh? The break? That's the opposite of exciting- sitting on our skidplates for ages? Gimme a break.” Whirl snorted, crossing his arms.
Tailgate gave him a confused look. “What- No! He said we could do renovations since there are some empty hab suites- were you paying attention?”
Whirl squinted at him.
Tailgate continued to look confused.
Cyclonus cycled his vocalizer. “I don’t think anyone but you expects Whirl to listen to a speech longer than a klik.” He said quietly, placing a gentle servo on Tailgate’s shoulder pad.
“OH- yeah-” Tailgate nodded quickly, a bit embarrassed. “Right- So you know how there’s less people onboard now than there were at the start-”
“That’s an understatement.” Whirl muttered.
“-There’s like a ton of uninhabited hab suites now, so he said after the whole announcement meeting we could go claim some to make a whole hab UNIT out of if there are any empty ones around us!” He was giving Whirl a look like it was the most exciting thing in the whole universe. Tailgate was. Tailgate who had stuck his finger in the forehead of a tyrannical dictator. Whirl glanced at Cyclonus. Cyclonus gave whirl a meaningful look. The kind that said something like ‘Humour him?’
Whirl nodded slowly. “... And thats… Exciting.” He said.
“SUPER exciting. It’ll be nice to stretch our legs, maybe do some decorating- OH! Hey, aren’t you lonely?” Tailgate cut himself off.
Whirl, taken aback by such an abrupt observation, glanced around. Cyclonus, too, was blinking a bit incredulously at his conjunx. “E-Excuse me??” Whirl asked.
“NO- I mean- y’know- because you don’t have a suitemate-”
“OH! I mean- I wouldn’t put it that way, flying solo suits me just fine.” Whirl shrugged.
Tailgate cycled his optics.
“I’m fine with being on my own, Tailgate, I like having the space.” He said, turning his helm away to scan the crowd.
Out of the corner of his optic, Whirl could see Tailgate turning his gaze to Cyclonus, grabbing his hand. Cyclonus shook his head sagely. He could hear the near silent whirr of them conversing in their heads, trading thoughts so he wouldn’t eavesdrop.
Whirl turned his attention back to the speech.
“-Next on the docket, we turn to Ultra Magnus with some important morale building updates!” Rodimus announced, sweeping a servo out to the larger mech. Whirl sunk back against the wall. Primus, just when I start pretending to care again.
Polite applause filled the room as Magnus took his place at the front of the group. He cycled his vocalizer, lifting up a datapad and beginning to read. “Hello everyone. As you all are well aware, during the past deca-cycle we conducted a survey regarding your thoughts on the brief ‘adventuring hiatus’ as our co-captain has decided to call it.” He began, briefly glancing at Rodimus, who offered a prideful nod at his expert naming strategy. “The results have been published, and your resounding, collective answer was, unsurprisingly, a pervasive feeling of boredom.”
There was a rumble of agreement that rippled through the crowd.
Ultra Magnus nodded, not looking up from his datapad. “As a means of quelling discontentment, we have come to a decision. In the halls and communal spaces within the ship you will now find holoboards which are available for advertisement as part of our new…” He paused for effect. “Communal Bonding and Engagement Initiative.” He paused again, looking out over the confused crowd for an excited reaction. Rodimus threw his servos in the air, giving a big enthusiastic double thumbs up to gesture for more of a response. After a few kliks of murmuring, Rodimus stepped forwards.
“We’re now actively encouraging you to form clubs and/or recreational sports teams! With the new unused space from our uh… lessened crew, we encourage you to begin construction on whatever spaces you might need-” Rodimus explained over a growing, more enthusiastic din.
Whirl glanced around, noting the reaction. Bots glanced around at one another, growing smiles on their faceplates and loudening chatter filling the room as they traded excitement about the idea.
“WITH- Proper clearance and permits-!” Ultra Magnus thundered over the growing noise. Soon enough the room was filled with excitement and chatter.
Whirl rolled his optic. If this was their idea of fun he might just start making problems on purpose. He turned his gaze to the two bots beside him. He had no doubt that Tailgate would be pinging off the walls at this concept- and he was correct, what with the way he was vibrating violently and gripping Cyclonus’s hand so hard it might as well have crumpled like foil. What he wasn’t expecting was the quiet, approving nod that Cyclonus was giving the idea. He wasn’t even doing it for Tailgate’s benefit! Tailgate wasn’t even looking at him for approval!
Magnus had resumed chattering, something about proper procedure for requesting space, and holding a workshop on how to properly take down walls for renovation purposes and Whirl was already bored of it. He was… preoccupied. It was hard to focus on most things for Whirl. But somehow, there was something about Cyclonus and Tailgate’s stupid relationship that held his attention. Maybe it helped that he’d kind of encouraged the two of them together, maybe it was all the gazing at Cyclonus’s constant pining that got him invested. But it was something he couldn’t help but watch.
They were chatting with one another again, meaning Tailgate was babbling faster than Blurr and Cyclonus was gazing lovingly into his optics with an expression like normal energon, rather than the spoiled version he usually looked like.
Whirl vaguely heard the doors of the hall open, and Rodimus eke out another ‘Til all are one!’ over Ultra Magnus’s continued reading of the CBEI rulebook that he had no doubt Ultra Magnus had relished in writing. The room was already starting to empty. It felt like Whirl’s audials were a million miles away, the whole room a little muffled.
Finally, as the room was almost completely empty, Tailgate popped back up onto his pedes, still chatting with Cyclonus.
“-ly if we’re going to grab the rooms around us before someone else gets their servos on them.” Tailgate’s voice came back into focus as he helped Cyclonus up off the bench. Cyclonus chuckled, which might have just sounded like an apathetic grunt to anyone else.
“Aw, slag, everyone’s already got a head start!!” Tailgate wailed, grabbing his own helm with both servos as his optics flashed with despair. He began to jog out the door, rolling into his alt mode clumsily and speeding off down the hall, swerving between bot’s legs and around a corner.
Whirl laughed to himself as he watched Tailgate’s tiny frame disappear off into the ship. “He’s a bit of a servo-full, huh?” He quipped, turning to face Cyclonus.
Cyclonus nodded with a quiet hum. “You’d be too, in his place.” He said.
“What, like I’m not a servo-full now?” Whirl grinned- in his own way. “I could be a bigger pain in your plate than he ever could.” He prodded a claw into Cyclonus’s chest.
Cyclonus raised a brow ridge, folding his arms and cocking his head. “I don’t know, Whirl. You’ve mellowed out from my perspective.” He said in that infuriating tone, humor dry as a desert.
“Mellow? I’d better up my game then.” He sneered, leaning his optic right up to Cyclonus’s head to leer at him. As usual he gave little reaction, gazing off down the hallway Tailgate had escaped to.
“You spend too much time in your hab suite.” Cyclonus didn’t turn his optics to face him. “Even if you had upped your game I’d never have noticed.”
Whirl was quiet for a long moment, turning his helm back down the hall. “... I like the privacy, what can I say?”
“Tailgate was planning on asking you to join us in our ‘soon to be luxury habitation unit’.” Cyclonus stated bluntly. “He said you seemed lonely.”
Whirl’s optic twitched.
“And sad.”
Whirl’s optic narrowed, flicking down to glance at Cyclonus. He was glancing back at him.
“And it was making him feel lonely and sad-”
“I get the picture, Cyclonus.” Whirl snapped.
The two held each other’s sideways glance for another long beat.
“I don’t need Tailgate’s pity, I’m doing just fine. Cool as an ice crystal. Never been better.” Whirl added.
Cyclonus let out a quiet ex-vent, taking a step down the hall. “Think about it. The door’s open to you. You know it is.” He tossed one last look over his shoulder. “And I’m not only saying that on Tailgate’s behalf. I can feel it too.” He opened his intake to continue, but shut it, turning back down the hallway. “It doesn’t suit you.”
Whirl watched the ex-con walk away. That quiet feeling washed in again- Envy? Annoyance?... Longing?- dulling the constant whirr of the ship. Whirl looked down at his servos, clicking his claws together for a moment before glancing around the room.
Yep. Alone again.
He waited until Cyclonus was out of sight before beginning to walk through the ship back towards his hab suite. He noted the new holoboards, currently empty save for the advertisement for Ultra Magnus’s upcoming CBEI workshop. He figured they wouldn’t stay empty for long, there were far too many bots chomping at the bit in that room. They all loved that kind of community, leave it to a bunch of veterans to jump at the opportunity to get back on a team. Whirl liked it just fine on his side of the fence, thank you VERY much. Teams had a habit of… collapsing on him.
He tapped at the buttons of his hab suite, the door sliding open with a quiet whoosh. The lights flickered on over his usual mess. He swiped some junk off his slab and laid down.
After a while of relative stillness the lights flicked off, plunging him back into darkness. He tossed, shifting a bit in an attempt to get comfortable.
He waited.
And waited.
And waited.
It was always a struggle to recharge. His frame felt restless and wrong. He squished himself into a comfortable enough position and focused on trying to pass out. Counted backwards, counted forwards, replayed the most boring parts of Ultra Magnus’s speeches.
Finally, as he started to power down, he was snapped awake by a tiny bit of text appearing in his comms frequency channel.
A message from someone. Someone who’d signed their words, even knowing that the receiver would know whoever sent it.
TG: Don’t be a stranger! -Tailgate
… Maybe just visiting some time wouldn’t hurt.
#transformers#mtmte tailgate#mtmte whirl#mtmte cyclonus#idw mtmte#mtmte#tf mtmte#mtmte fanfic#my fic#fluff#mtmte fluff#tf idw fanfic#transformers idw#tailgate/cyclonus/whirl#cywhirlgate#cygate#cyclonus#tailgate#whirl
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MESSAGES I CAN’T SEND
꩜ tags black!reader, therapist!eren, college setting, age gap (reader in 20s, eren in 30s), power dynamic, not so protective sex? mentions of death [not proofread]
꩜ synopsis isn’t it obvious to hide your private life better? or was it not obvious when a video of you dry-humping a pillow was sent to your therapist.
@ word count 3.6k
story below the cut !!
ever since you’ve lost your mother to old age, your mental health has spiraled downwards a little bit. you’ve had the privilege of knowing when she WOULD die and at-least died in a proper place rather than somewhere shitty, so that’s cheered your spirits up a little bit. she was your best friend though, and losing your best friend is painful. you went to her whenever you could, talked on the phone for hours, and slept in her bed every night as if you were still five years old.
you weren’t the only one suffering though, your childhood friend sasha couldn’t stand watching you wither away. even though she did everything she could, she knew she was capable of oh so much.
you weren’t the only one suffering though, your childhood friend sasha couldn’t stand watching you wither away. even though she did everything she could, she knew she was capable of oh so much.
“do you want me to hook you up with my therapist? he’ll seriously help you clear all cloudy thoughts away y/n,” sasha says caressing your cheeks
you move your face away from her hand, “they aren’t cloudy thoughts sas, im just grieving my mother..”
“i know baby, i know.. but i don’t want to grieve YOU if you die of a heartbreak. i want you to get better, physically and mentally.” sasha looks at me emphatically.
she pulls out her phone and scrolls through her contacts until stopping at a card called “dr.jaeger”. “listen, give him a call please. his prices are cheap and his place is nice. it’s not like those dull white offices with an ugly long chair and a monotone person.”
you sighed, reluctantly agreeing to her copying and pasting the number to your phone. “okey, i gotta go now babe, but PROMISE me you’ll give him a call, he’ll help you, and if he doesn’t i’ll play for any of your bills ok?” sasha says packing up her stuff. she kisses your cheek before leaving the quiet study area, leaving you alone to your own thoughts.
you stare at the contact card, pulling dr. jaeger’s name up on your laptop and scrolling through his website. sasha was right about one thing, his prices WERE cheap. about $65 an hour and he also had packages where two weeks of therapy would be about $350 in total.
the prices however, weren’t enough to convince you fully, as your scroll down to see the reviews.
“dr. jaeger saved me. after the loss of my wife, i never felt like so lonely, but my daughter told me about him and he’s helped me heal properly and not turn to anything crazy. he’s an amazing person with amazing talents as such a young age. 5 stars”
ok.. that was something. not that you were going to invalidate them, but that seemed just.. fake. you decided to read another one.
“oh my gosh. no one would believe how amazing someone is at listening and understanding a person’s thoughts. dr. jaeger was nothing like those terrible therapists who make you pay $100 for an shitty hour call. oh how i wished i can say more, but the character limit is fu”
you giggled at that one. maybe i should give him a call. with a deep breath, you called the number.
“hello? my name is y/n, i’d like to speak to dr. jaeger please.”
—
it’s been about a month since you’ve scheduled a session with dr. jaeger, only having to wait that long due to “heavy traffic”. sasha is currently driving you to the building.
“you know, i’m really proud of you for calling. i was scared you were going to stay depressed forever.” sasha says over her 80s radio playing.
“let’s not get too happy yet, he could still be shit at his job..” you say cutting down any happy thoughts.
“you’re STILL doubting him y/n? i get that some people are money hungry, but i promise you he’s not. if he was, do you think ME of all people would be recommending you to him? i mean c’mon, have some faith please.”
“i’m sorry, i just nervous ok. my stomach is doing backflips at the moment.”
“hey man, if you feel like farting, ill park somewhere and you can walk the rest of the way.”
you two pull up to the parking lot, fancy with a modern style front. the office itself if very modern and 2 floored.
“k, i’m gonna drop you off here, call me when you’re done ok?”
you walk out of sasha’s car, waving her goodbye while she drives away. you walk into the sleek office, with painting from what you the assume were from the last two centuries.
the receptionist greets you with a nice smile “welcome, how may i help you today?” you give her your name. “ah i see, you right on time then, ill have this guard guide you to dr. jaeger’s office.” just then, a semi tall man with a black uniform from comes in-front of me. “right this way.”
he leads me into the elevator, where he then leads me into a hallway with lots of rooms. there’s multiple therapists in this building, all with different ways. as i look through the glass windows, i see pet therapy, group therapy and even massage therapy. the guard finally stops at a door, with a name tag having “DR. JAEGER” on it. “here’s your room, have a nice day.” he says as he’s walking away. you give him a quick thank you and knock on the door.
a deep “come in.” follows shortly after, and you enter the room. first impression of when you enter the room was that sasha was right. the room was anything from boring, and didn’t have white walls but instead had a mix of brown and auburn. there was lots of old-style decor too. a record player, cd’s and even the tv was kinda old.
however you were greeted with the most shocking thing of all, dr. jaeger himself. he looked away from his papers, to look at you and gave you a warm smile. his visuals was… something you didn’t expect. most therapist are middle-aged men and women, that are sort-of not the most attractive. but that was ok, because they wanted to help you, not seduce you. dr. jaeger on the other hand was extremely beautiful. he has dark brown hair, put up in a semi-messy bun, the most luscious green eyes, and very kissable pink lips.
i guess you were admiring his facial features for too long to notice dr. jaeger looking at you weirdly. “maybe un-responsive.” he mutters to himself, typing down on his laptop. upon hearing his words, you apologize and scurried to the seat in-front of him.
“or not. . . my name is dr. jaeger, if you’ve haven’t gotten a chance to see on the door.”
“i did, sorry for not responding earlier.”
“it’s ok, its common for most genders to be shocked at how i look.” dr. jaeger said in a non-concerned voice. you were took aback a little by his comment, most genders to be shocked at how he looked? you were wondering if he was just annoyed at the common occurrence or just knew that he was an attractive man. “pushing that aside,” he sighed “sasha has told me a lot about you.” he says looking up at you.
“she did?” you question.
“mhm, she cares for you ms….” he looks at the paper look for your last name.
“y/l/n.”
“ah, thank you. sasha cares for you ms. y/l/n. she talks about your recovery, and wants you to best happy for her.” he says maintaining eye contact. you can’t respond to such kindness. all you can do is nod your head and smile.
“but as a therapist view-point, the death of a loved one is one of the hardest battle we have to overcome as a human being. no matter how emotionless a person may be, the death of anything else to them will always cause someone to break. that’s just how we are, we humans . . . after all.” he says empathically.
“my job isn’t to make you forget your mother, or forget the pain you feel about her. you always feel pain lingering about her, and that’s ok. i’m just here to help you reduce that pain.”
you were shocked. cheap prices, handsome therapist AND a good one at that? maybe it’s good to stay faithful after all.
—
it’s been about 3 weeks since you’ve had daily therapy sessions with mr. jaeger and he’s honestly been helping you a lot. you had different kinds of sessions, like walking around and even some pet therapy. today was for a usual one-on-one walk around the building beautiful outside landscape.
as you and dr. jaeger walk around, you wave to the other clients with their own therapists. “see how social you’ve gotten? when we first came here, you were begging to stay back inside due to all the people,” he jokes around. “now, you’re friendly with them. it’s good progress.” he smiles to himself.
“it was only because of you, dr. jaeger. i don’t think i’d be the way i am without your help.”
“ah. . . don’t flatter me too much. let’s sit right here yea?” he says pointing towards the swinging wood benches. “it’s beautiful outside, isn’t it ms. y/l/n?” he turns to look at you.
“yea, it really is.” you turn back to stare at him. god, you can stare into his eyes for hours. it’s something that about that were so addicting, that you couldn’t look away if you wanted to. to break the silence, you decided to follow up with a cheeky comment. “say dr. jaeger, you really know how to keep a client.” he moves his head to the side, confused. “i like to believe that my clients stay with my due to how i help them and not my looks.” ah fuck. it was not received well at all, and you just profusely apologized to him.
“but, if my looks did make people stay, that wouldn’t be all too bad huh,” he says giving a hearty laugh. “but tell me now, ms y/l/n. does my looks make you stay?” you were at a loss for words. one part of you wanted to say “fuck yes” while another part of you wanted to say “absolutely not”. and you of course went with the latter.
“whatever your answer is, it doesn’t bother me either way. . . but it looks like our time is up ms. y/l/n.” you look down at your phone for the time. it was up after he exclaimed. the two of you head back to his office to pick you up your stuff.
that night later, you were chilling in your bed, getting ready to dose off. you however, couldn’t sleep without thinking about a fantasy. it didn’t matter what type, other than it having to be something interesting. you close your eyes, your mind shifting to dr. jaeger, and the moments between you two that drove you insane. like that one time he wore a turtle neck, showing off his clothed six-pack abs. you imagined yourself touching them, feeling the rock-hardness of them. you open your eyes again, looking around the room. to be honest, you haven’t.. you know what, in a while and you thought it might be time to do it again.
you move your bedsheets closer to the edge to give you more space. and moved all your pillows away except for one. you pulled your phone out and started to record. it might seem weird to other people, but you like to record yourself, in the time that you couldn’t find anything good on twitter or reddit.
you start to rock your hips back n forth on the pillow, assuming it the body of a male. maybe it was dr. jaeger body you could’ve been assuming it off. either way, it turned you on, seeing how you started to move faster on your pillow. one of your hands grip the pillow, as the other hand massages your boob. you move faster, enjoying the friction your clit is getting between the pillow and your soaked panties. you close your eyes, imagining dr. jaeger guiding your body with his big, veiny hands. as you’re about to climax, you can’t help but subtly whimper his name.
once you’ve finished, you end the video. while you’re cleaning up, sasha enters the room. “hey girlie, i was thinking of getting some drinks tomorrow night? wanna come?” she says exciting. “i would but i have a session with dr. jaeger tomorrow.”
“boo, you’re boring.”
“whatever, i’m going to the shower, so let me know if anything happens ok?”
“yea yea boring y/n.”
you go to the bathroom and take off your clothes, hopping inside the shower. you turn on the water, letting the lukewarm water hit your skin. you are alone with your thoughts until sasha comes inside the bathroom.
“not to be nosey, but dr. jaeger texted you.” she says.
“mhm really? what did he say?”
“i didn’t look at it properly, but something about a daily wellness video?” you knew right away. dr. jaeger usual makes his clients make videos of themselves with positive affirmations, then with their consent, he’ll use it on his website for future clientele.
“ahh ok! just send him the most recent video.” you photo gallery takes forever to update, so there’s a chance it’ll take forever to show the video of your “naughty time”.
“ok, sending right now… and it’s sent. if he wants a further conversation, i’ll let you know.”
“thanks sash.”
as you walk out the steamy bathroom, and get ready for bed, you check your notifications for any new ones. you go into the chat between you and dr. jaeger, seeing if theres anything new. you took a look at the video of your affirmation, seeing the shirt you wore today as the thumbnail. you clicked on it, expecting your face to zoom out, as you were testing the camera quality always. to your shock, you camera didn’t zoom out. but instead was your body moving back and forth on something. your heart dropped. it couldn’t be. you’re praying it wasn’t. you skip some of the video to see if it was truly what you think it was, but the video suddenly changed to a more in-depth shot of you humping the pillow with your panties being in view.
your heart start to beat faster than usual. you click off the video to delete it right away. dr. jaeger didn’t respond to it, and it said it was ‘delivered.’ you wanted to tell yourself that he hasn’t seen it, and probably watches those videos early in the morning. you weren’t going to stress yourself out though, you were just gonna go to his office per usual, and get counseling per usual.
—
you take a deep breath and knock at his door, hoping it all ends well. you hear his “come in” but it sounds different from before. his voice went an octave lower. you walk into the room, seeing a more “messy” side of dr. jaeger. at-least he didn’t look at cleaned up as he usually does. his bun was a lot more frizzy from before and he had two buttons undone on his button up shirt.
maybe he had a rough morning. you think to yourself. “good morning ms. y/l/n. how was your night?” you stopped for a second. such a simple question was something so dangerous to you. “it was fine, dr. jaeger. how about yours?”
“oh. one of the best i’ve had in a while.”
“ah. mine was the worst i’ve had in a while.” you mumbled.
“really? i would’ve assumed you’ve had a very nice night ms. y/l/n.”
you stare at him confused. what could he mean by that? yea, you fixed your hair a little better than usual, and your eye bags have gone away overtime, but you truly did have a sleepless night yesterday. dr. jaeger gets up from his chair, to lean on his desk, standing in-front of you. he stared down at you with his usually lighter colored eyes now displayed a dark-green. and his pupils were more extended.
“i don’t know what gives you the impression that i’ve had a nice night dr. jaeger.”
he bends to to match the height of the chair, and put both of his hands on the rest, restricting me from mounting off of it easily. “let’s cut the crap, y/n. i saw what you sent me.” at this moment, it felt like 100 daggers were suddenly lodged into your chest.
“i wondered why you asked what you did yesterday. i thought to myself ‘maybe she thought i was attractive’, but i see it was more than that i see,” he says not breaking eye contact. “you see, as a human, we see something we like, and have many kinds of thoughts about it. and i see the thoughts you have towards me are stronger than what i expected.”
“i’m truly sorry dr. jaeg-“
“call me eren, seeing as that is what you called me in the video.”
“i’m sorry eren, truly. i don’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable or hurt this relationship between us.” i say holding back my tears.
“hurt? uncomfortable? those words are out of the park right now,” he says standing up. “to be honest, tell me why you came today y/n.”
“to have a therapy session with you.” you meekly say.
“is my looks standing in the way of you healing with the death of your mother?” he says standing behind me.
“not at all, dr. jae- eren.”
“so then what provoked you to send me a five minute long video of you fucking yourself to a pillow in the imagination that it’s me?” you were at a loss for words. he was right. your heart sank as his word dug deeper into you. and you couldn’t hold back your tears anymore. you started to quietly sob, feeling large hands down your shoulders. you feel a hot breath near your eyes chill down your spine. “don’t cry, not in this manner at least,” he says in your ear.
“cry because you can’t handle it, y/n.”
you stopped and turned to look at him. he had a devilish grin on his face. “handle what?” you say, not catching his gist.
“you’ll find out soon enough.”
eren lifts you up by the arm and spins you around to face him completely. you didn’t know what was going on, but you didn’t want to push away. your faces was a mere 4 inches away from each other. “can i? y/n. . . can i give you what you want?”
you look at his eyes then his lips then his eyes again. fuck it, you nod your head and eren kisses you passionately. he stops kissing you for a moment to push the chairs aside. you look at his desk to see his usually messy papers cleaned up to the side. he planned this probably . . . eren picks you up and places you on his desk.
he places a hand on your chin, rubbing it gently. “open it baby,” he says as his kisses you again, but placing his tongue all over the inside of your mouth. his hands tug on the bottom of your shirt, signaling for it to be removed. in between each kiss, you both take off a piece of clothing until you up to your undergarments. eren slips his large hand under your breast, fondling with it while he leaves wet hickeys on your neck. with the other hand he unclasps the bra, throwing it the ground. he kisses you again, muttering “nice tits”.
you pull at the band of his underwear, “want you in me ren’.” you whine. “patience baby.” eren says sliding your panties off to the floor.
“are you on any pills by any chance?”, he says rubbing ur slick all over your cunt. “m-mhm ren.’”
“good. so i don’t have to hold back.”
eren slips his underwear off, revealing his long, veiny and girthy dick. you want to guess it’s around 6-7 inches, but it was gonna tear you up regardless. he strokes his dick, ‘lubing’ it up with his pre-cum. he inches closer to you, having his dick and your hole just one insert away from each other. you open your legs wider and lay down on his desk, giving him more access to yourself. “didn’t even have to ask.” eren said.
he teases the tip of his dick on your clit. your whole body tingles in response, arching your back off the cold desk. “please ren’…” you beg, desperately wanting his dick buried into you. “please fuck me eren.”
“as you wish.” with that, eren aligns himself with your entrance, slowly pushing himself in. the both of you moan simultaneously from the pleasure you both felt. eren starts to push his hips back and forth into you, keeping a firm grip on your waist. eren keeps a nice pace, making sure to satisfy both sides. suddenly, eren lifts your legs, wrapping them around his waist. you jolted from the tingle he gave you. you were trying to conceal your moans, but every time it was getting louder than usual, eren made sure put his hand over your mouth.
eren’s pace starts to unstable, moving fast at times and then slowing down to grind himself on you. you can tell he was close to his climax, seeing how desperate and shaky thrusts were.
“‘m so close baby. . .” he grunts.
“‘ren please! mhm.” you whine, begging him to release.
“at the same time? what a good girl..” he barely breathes out.
eren picks you up by the waist to pull you closer to him. there wasn’t enough space between you too, but he didn’t care. eren grinds his dick into you, feeling his dick throb in your walls. then, you feel a warm liquid pour inside of you, while at the same time cry out from your orgasm.
#anime smut#aot smut#eren smut#aot x poc!reader#aot x reader#aot x black reader#eren x black fem!reader
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