#☆ doing things changes things — ⌜ greg house ⌟

[fear-is-truth]

the heffleys are still coming to terms with the fact that you, rodrick’s cool girlfriend, are a real part of his life. greg, for one, can’t wrap his head around it—how did his brother manage to land someone like you? he even has a tiny crush on you, which he tries (and fails) to hide. during playdates, he and rowley keep sneaking wide-eyed glances at you, pretending to be fully focused on video games whenever you catch them staring.

susan, on the other hand, is thrilled to have you around. as a mom of three boys, she’s practically adopted you as her honorary daughter, showering you with warmth and enthusiasm every time you’re over. she’ll share every childhood story she can think of about rodrick—some endearing, most embarrassing—while he sits there mortified. she’ll even drag out the family photo albums when you’re around, cooing over old pictures of baby rodrick in onesies covered with embarrassing slogans.

then there’s mr. heffley, who’s suspiciously nice to you. he goes out of his way to make sure that sure the house is spotless when you come over, almost like he’s worried you’ll wise up to what a disaster rodrick can be and leave. every time rodrick says something dumb, mr. heffley’s shoulders tense, and he sneaks glances at you, hoping you don’t suddenly see you’re too good for his son.

and manny… well, you do your best to steer clear of that kid whenever you can.

it’s a typical dinner at the heffleys’. you’re seated next to rodrick, his hand resting on your knee under the table as he gives you a lopsided grin between bites. across from you, greg keeps sneaking glances at your chest. little perv.

once everyone’s settled with their plates, susan clears her throat, leaning forward with a bright, overly cheerful smile. “y/n,” she starts, clasping her hands like she’s about to impart some life-changing advice, “it’s just wonderful that you and rodrick are so… close.” she gives an small, knowing nod, and rodrick stiffens next to you.

“it’s very important,” she continues, picking up a carrot stick and an onion ring, “for young people in a… special relationship to be, you know…” she pauses, clearly hunting for the most embarrassing words possible, before adding, “prepared for close situations.” she looks at you and then at rodrick, before doing a little… mime with the carrot and onion ring. greg yelps, “MOM!” and pretends to gag, slapping both hands over his face like he’s been scarred for life. mr. heffley chokes on his mashed potatoes, reaching for his water with wide eyes.

“just remember,” she says, completely oblivious to the horror around her, “things can get… spicy, but a smart girl like you knows to have… protection.” she gives another exaggerated nod, waving her “lesson” props before setting them down, satisfied. rodrick’s hand tightens on your knee, and he mutters, “oh my god, kill me now,” through gritted teeth, trying to keep his cool despite the absolute humiliation.

mr. heffley takes a deep breath, giving you a look that says he really hopes you won’t dump rodrick over this—but he’d totally understand if you did.

[purplecoffee13]

NFWMB - part 1

Summary: “Harry is a retired boxer who owns a gym and teaches self-defense classes. He considers himself a strong man, but when a gorgeous innocent woman attends a try-out class, she manages to leave him weak in the knees…”

Wc: 4.3k

Tropes: boxer!Harry x innocent!reader

Warnings: mentions of violence and SA

A/N: hello everyone! This is my new series NFWMB, named after one of Hozier’s most horny songs😄. I am so incredibly excited for this series omg it’s gonna be so good!!! If you don’t believe me, go listen to NFWMB and you’ll get a vague idea of what’s coming ;)

P.S. header = pov change

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Harry Styles was not one for regrets.

His life may not have turned the way he expected it to, but he was still proud of where he had come.

Being a professional boxer was a risky job, and Harry had known that when he had decided that it was going to be his career. But there was no other logical option. Harry was an exceptional boxer who was able to go pro at age 18, where he defeated a lot of men who were older and bigger than him.

It was his passion, it always had been. Which was something that was quite remarkable, especially to his closer family members, because Harry was anything but a violent person in his day to day life. He was quite reserved, and managed his temper very well. The years in the boxing ring did harden him quite a bit, his reserved nature developing into something more akin to stoicism.

Nevertheless, Harry loved boxing. It wasn't so much a fight to him, but more of a puzzle. Each opponent had its own made up riddle, and it was up to Harry to solve it as quick as possible. Much like a dance you learn the steps to along the way. A perfect combination of intuitive technique.

He hadn't planned on having to retire at the age of 27 already. It was supposed to be his peak; it had been for almost all boxers in history, and he was looking forward to how far he would be able to push his body during his prime.

He never got the opportunity to get an answer to those questions. A car accident got in the way.

He wouldn't have been able to stop it, he knew that, and he had forbidden himself from thinking about what could've happened had he not taken that specific road back home that horrible night. There was nothing he could do about it now, so there was no point in dwelling on it.

After a year of recovery, he was slowly able to get back into the rhythm of his old life again. Well, except for the boxing part. Knowing that his career in that field was over, he began thinking about some other options of his, and decided on fulfilling another dream of his: opening a gym.

He had always wanted to do it, but he always imagined to be retired by the time he would start on that.

Now, two years later, his gym was already in multiple locations, but Harry was still working at the first one he opened. He would visit the other ones every once in a while to see how everything was going, but he was mainly at the one nearest to his house. It was special to him, the place where it all started.

Despite running the place, and therefore not needing to be on location all the time, Harry was at the gym 24/7. He wasn't a personal trainer—wasn't really his style—but he would help people and teach self defense classes to women.

Every Thursday between 6 and 9, he would teach groups of ten women everything they needed to know on defending themselves from whatever threat they may run into. It was one of the things he was proudest of; the turn out at those classes. That these women put their trust in him, and let him help them become even tougher than they already were.

Tonight, after teaching the last group, Harry had gone to the bar with some of his friends. One of them was Sophie, a woman he had become friends with since she'd joined his self defense class. She was a great person with an impeccable sense of humor, and Harry was glad he had introduced her to Greg, his best friend. They were basically made for each other.

Harry had to admit that he envied his friend for the relationship he had. He was happy for them, but sometimes couldn't help but think that his lack of a partner was this one puzzle piece that would make his life even better. All in good time, he reminded himself.

"Hey," Sophie caught Harry's attention when she waved her hand in front of his face. His gaze shot to hers, eyebrows raised. "So, I was talking about your self defense class today at work. You know, promoting your business and all."

Harry chuckled at the cocky tone in which Sophie told her story, chin up high. He mumble a soft 'thanks', to which she grinned.

"You're welcome. Anyways, I have this new colleague and she seemed so intrigued by it, but she was too insecure about joining. I mean— she didn't outright say that, but I could just tell." She huffed, Greg rubbing her back. Sophie was a very happy person in general and wanted the best for everyone, this new colleague of hers included. Harry had the same habit, it's why he immediately suggested:

"Why don't you invite her along next week? A free try-out."

"But your try-out classes aren't for another two weeks." Sophie noted.

It was true. The self defense classes had become very popular, and since Harry taught them himself, he had scheduled one night of try-out classes a month. He was only able to take on so many people, but he didn't mind making this exception.

"She can join your regular class." Harry shrugged, and Sophie's eyes beamed with excitement.

"Thank you Harry!" She squealed happily, giving Greg a hug to channel her enthusiasm. "Oh, I hope she'll come along!"

"I'm sure she will." Harry assured her with a smile, and took another sip from his beer.

Y/N had never been one for risks.

She had never been the type of person to take the leap of faith, relying more on familiar feeling of security. Why risk hurting yourself when you could be safe and content?

It was the logic she had always operated with, the logic she had been taught from a very young age. Y/N had had a sheltered upbringing. Her parents wanted her and her little brother to be as safe as possible, and that was just fine to Y/N.

Her little brother was the more feisty one of the two, and his childhood consisted of a lot of fighting. It hurt Y/N to see the people she loved so much be so angry all the time, and it only motivated her to be as good as possible. She never drank, smoked, or went to parties. She turned in her homework early and got an A on almost every test. It did put a strain on her relationship with her brother, especially since Y/N's behavior would be used as ammunition towards him.

They still didn't talk all too much, but Y/N hoped that one day, she could repair that relationship again.

Moving a few towns away was a big deal for her parents, but the wonderful job she had gotten as a secretary at quite a prestigious law firm had made it all worth it. They helped her with moving into her apartment, but Y/N would regularly visit them on both weekdays and on the weekends. All in all, she'd had a safe, comfortable, content life.

Until a few months ago.

It was a Friday night, and Y/N had agreed to a date. One of the lawyers at the firm, Oscar, had been flirting with her ever since she started working there. Not wanting to be impolite, Y/N never outright rejected him, and so the flirting continued. She was a bit uncomfortable about it — especially since he was nearing his forties and she was only 23 — but figured the banter was part of the job. She was so shocked when he did ask her to go on a date, she said yes.

It wouldn't be too bad, she figured. She would just go on the date and tell him she wasn't interested afterwards. It could be casual, and no one would be too hurt. The date was definitely out of her carefully moderated comfort zone, but she would step out of it for one night.

The date was fine. Like she had expected, she wasn't interested in Oscar in a romantic way. Still, she listened to his stories, laughed right on cue at all his jokes, and told some of her own anecdotes as well. The dinner was great, and he even offered to walk her home.

They were nearing Y/N's apartment when Oscar had suddenly slowed down his walking pace. She only noticed when she was a few feet away from him, and walked back to where Oscar was standing.

"Are you okay? We're almost there, I promise." Y/N smiled politely, much like she did in the office. Oscar didn't say anything in response, only the corners of his mouth quirking up ever so slightly.

"You're so beautiful, do you know that?" He  complimented her, and Y/N looked at her feet, not quite knowing how to handle the flattery.

"Thank you." She said softly, and froze when Oscar's fingers tilted her chin upwards. Her eyes widened when he suddenly leaned in and put his mouth on hers. After the first few seconds of pure shock slowly passed, Y/N pulled her head back.

Not getting the hint, Oscar grinned and leaned in again, this time with both his hands on her face. Y/N let out a yelp, stumbling backwards. Her body's alarm bells were ringing so loudly, but Oscar must've been deaf to her body language because he backed her up against the wall and kept kissing her.

Y/N cried out as she tried to push Oscar off with her hands, but he only grabbed them and pinned them above her head. Finally, not knowing what else to do, she lifted her knee and kicked him right in the crotch. Oscar shot backwards, groaning loudly as his grip finally loosened on her. He looked incredibly angry.

"What the fuck?!" He bellowed, standing up straight again. Y/N's lip quivered, tears running down her face.

"You wouldn't stop." She said softly, almost in a whisper. Her entire body was shaking from the adrenaline. Oscar's mouth opened to say something, but the conversation got interrupted.

"Oscar!" A woman's voice shouted from down the street. He turned his head, and his face morphed from sheer rage into a lovely smile, the same one he always put up for Y/N back in the office.

"Sophie!" He said, but the mention of her name sounded strained. Sophie... Y/N recognized her name, but she hadn't ever met the woman. She was one of the three female lawyers at the firm. Had been working there for only five years, but her reputation was so badass, everyone knew who she was.

"What are you doing out tonight?" Sophie asked as she gave Oscar a hug, and turned to Y/N. "Who's this?"

"This is Y/N." Oscar replied. "She's a secretary at the firm."

"Nice to meet you." Y/N extended her hand, and Sophie shook it.

"Nice to meet you too! How come I've never seen you around?" She tilted her head.

"I— I work on a different floor."

"Well, I'm glad I met you, Y/N!" She said, the kindness in her tone being a real comfort after that scary moment she just had to live through. Somewhere in the way she said it, and in the way her eyes softened slightly, it almost felt like Sophie knew.

"I— I should go. It's getting pretty late." Y/N decided that this could be her sweet escape.

"Right, I'm gonna bring Y/N home." Oscar said, and your eyes shot to him. Anxiety filled your lungs until all you could breathe was fear. You didn't want to be alone with him. You had no idea what he would be able to do to you. What were you going to do about it? You weren't even half as strong as he was.

"Oh, which way is it?" Sophie asked, turning to Y/N, who was about to open her mouth but got interrupted by Oscar.

"That way." He pointed toward the direction of Y/N's house. Sophie side eyed her colleague, then nodded.

"Exactly the way I was going! Let's go." She hooked her arm into Y/N's, and began walking, ranting about how it was unacceptable that they didn't work on the same floor.

Y/N wordlessly nodded along, filled with gratefulness to Sophie or the universe—or both—for not leaving her alone with Oscar again.

She got home safely about five minutes later, not daring to look Oscar in the eyes as she hugged him and said goodbye, and she only allowed her tears to fall down her cheek when she closed her front door.

Y/N spent the rest of the weekend in bed, not in the mood to do anything. By Monday, she felt both better and worse. She had had some time to come down from the shock of what happened, but the terror that filled her at the realization that she was to see Oscar again, had her stomach turn. On Monday morning, she even got into work late as a result of a wave of nausea that hit her once she'd grabbed her keys, spending the time she used to drive to work to puke her guts out instead.

Later, she'd found out that Oscar had called in sick that day. It gave her some time and space to breathe. Sophie visited her the same day, and she hadn't stopped visiting since.

Oscar did eventually return to work, but they never talked anymore. Y/N didn't dare to look him in the eye, and she avoided him at all costs. One day, about two weeks after everything happened, she did see him waiting by her cubicle, but she hid in the toilet for half an hour and by the time she returned he was gone.

It had been two months since that horrible event, and Y/N had entirely isolated herself. Back to the normal routine, back to what was familiar. It gave her a sense of control. She was fragile, and sensitive. She had just pressed down her sadness and anxiety that lingered as a result from the date, and instead focused entirely on what she could control.

She figured it would be easier. Well, except for the mental breakdowns she'd get when something small didn't go right. The dishes not being cleaned, her vacuum not taking up every speck of dust; it just set her off. It wasn't healthy, but she had no idea how else to deal with these things.

When Sophie mentioned she was following self-defense classes a couple weeks ago, Y/N's ears had perked up. She tried to be subtle about it; asking questions to pry some information about the classes from her. But, being the amazing lawyer she was, it didn't go over Sophie's head, and before she knew it she had an invite to a class.

"See you next week!" Harry exclaimed as the last of the women from the 7pm class left the room. He was still busy putting everything back into place before the next class which would commence in about five minutes.

He was just about done with everything when Sophie walked in, another girl walking in close behind her. Harry couldn't really make up her face, as she stayed closely behind Sophie, even upon nearing him.

Sophie looked proud, probably feeling very accomplished about the fact that she had been able to convince this colleague of hers to take her up on her offer.

"Hey!" She greeted Harry cheerfully, giving him a quick hug. He was still smiling when he turned to the woman standing next to Sophie. His mouth went a bit dry when he took in her face.

"Harry, this is Y/N."

For starters, she was a bit shorter than Sophie, and quite frail too. Her hair was up in a ponytail, leaving her features to be admired out in the open. Her eyes were soft—radiating mostly insecurity at the moment—and wide. Those Bambi eyes and plump, rosy lips...

She looked so... innocent?

He wasn't sure if it was the right word, but he was sure that he had to say something before the silence became too long.

"Hi Y/N." He repeated her name, seeing the slightest flicker of surprise run through the eyes of the woman in front of him. But the slight relaxation of her body told him that his usual trick was working. It was a typical 'strategy' that he would often use with people who were a bit unsure about him. His voice would soften, he would always wear a hint of a smile on his face, and he'd repeat people's names to create a bit more of a familiar environment. It always worked, and he was glad it did. He never wanted anyone, especially a woman, to feel uncomfortable around him.

"Hi." The corners of her mouth tugged up.

Angel.

That's all he could think of as he looked at her. Jesus Christ, she was beautiful.

"Thank you for joining the class. You don't have to join in on everything if you don't feel comfortable. Just observe and see if this is something you would like to practice more often, okay?"

The girl in front of him nodded intently the second he had finished talking. Her eyes widened ever so slightly before she peeped out an, "okay."

Harry grinned, his gaze shooting to Sophie—who was looking at him with this suspicious look on her face that she only got once in a while—before calling everyone in a circle and commencing the class.

This girl, Y/N, turned out to be a real distraction for him. He was so focused on trying to read how she was feeling that he trailed off during explanations a couple times. It was embarrassing, really. He was a grown man for God's sake, why couldn't he just concentrate?

Y/N only joined in for a couple of the basic movements, but she stayed back for most of the class. Her big eyes observed every movement Harry and the others made, impressed with how developed everyone seemed to be in their techniques. He noted that it only seemed to make her more timid, though.

His eyebrows kept knitting every time he looked at her, getting lost in his thoughts on how he could help her become more comfortable in his class. She'd caught his stare about halfway through the class, and at the way her eyes shot to the floor he realized that his gaze was actually doing the completed opposite of what he wanted to do, which was help her.

When the class ended, Harry gave his usual speech about how good everyone had done their job, and that he would see them all next week. Afterwards there would always be a couple of women hanging around to ask questions, and he would stop a few on their way out to compliment their improvements. When the rest of the women had left, Sophie walked up to Harry, Y/N following closely behind.

"Great class, Styles. Thanks for teaching me some ass kicking again." She teased, smiling at him before she took a sip from her water bottle.  Harry chuckled, shaking his head faintly.

"Glad you liked it." He turned to Y/N. "What about you?"

Her cheeks started heating up, mouth falling open ever so slightly. "M— me? Oh, uhm, yeah, pretty good."

"I'm going to use the bathroom really quick, I'll be right back." Sophie chimed in, and began walking towards the door. "Keep her company for me, will ya Styles?"

Harry almost laughed at how Y/N's eyes nearly popped out of her sockets at Sophie's announcement. She was nervous around him, and it was quite endearing, but she didn't need to be. Although it was very cute, Harry wanted her to be comfortable around her.

"You hated it, didn't you?" He said as soon as Sophie was out of sight. Harry was amused, watching Y/N scramble for words when she realized what he had said.

"What? No, no of course not! You're great! Teacher— you're a great teacher, I mean." She stumbled over every last one of her words, making it sound even less convincing than it already was, even though she did really mean it.

Harry solely raised his eyebrow, indicating that he did not buy any of that, and it was all it took for her shoulders to slump and a little sigh to leave those pretty lips of hers.

"It's really not you, I promise. I just get... a bit nervous in group settings, especially when it comes to sports. I don't even go to the gym." She confessed, and Harry nodded. That certainly made more sense. His heart warmed a bit at the fact that she reassured him that he wasn't the reason she wasn't liking the class all too much.

"Why don't you go to the gym?" Harry asked further, his tone soft. He didn't want to press too much, but he did want to know more about her.

"It's... embarrassing." She shrugged. Harry chuckled.

"I go to the gym all the time. I mean, I own this one. I can only imagine how embarrassing I must be."  He joked. He had to say he thought it was pretty funny, the way she blushed as he teased her.

"No, I didn't mean it like that! You're not embarrassing at all— I mean, you’re like the opposite. You're lean, and strong. You have like— big arms and you know what you're doing." She ranted, and had no idea how much Harry's ego was fueled by the compliments she was unknowingly throwing at him. "Whereas I— I have no idea what to do at a gym. I hate the idea of people being able to watch me and judge me if they want. Not that I think everyone's focusing on me all the time! I— I don't think that..."

Y/N's heart was racing as she finally got herself to stop talking. It was a nervous habit she had always possessed. As soon as something got awkward, her mouth would open and it would just never shut again. All communication skills flew out the window as soon as something — or in this case someone — made her nervous. She couldn't even remember half the words she just said.

"I can teach you, if you want."

The offer was as unexpected to Y/N as it was to Harry. He hadn't quite anticipated the words rolling off his tongue, but he didn't regret them either.

"It'll be a private class, and it can be in a closed room, like this one, or after closing time. Whatever suits you." Harry tried his hardest to sound casual, and not like what he was offering was something he literally never did. He had to hire a cleaner at home because he was too busy to get around to cleaning the house, that's how much he had to do. But the prospect of losing even more free time did not seem to bother him at all. In fact, he hoped Y/N would take him up on his offer as he scanned her face and waited for her to say something.

"No, I wouldn't want to ask that of you. I'm sure you're busy with a lot of other things." She declined politely, but he didn't miss the glimmer of hope in her eyes. Those private classes had sounded intriguing to her, he just knew it. So instead of accepting her rejection, he shrugged.

"How about this. I'm always in till late on Tuesday's. If you're sure you don't want private lessons, that's fine. But if it does sound like something you want to do, just be there at 9. I'll be there either way." Harry suggested. He didn't wait for a response — hearing Sophie's footsteps nearing — and instead said,

"Just think about it, alright?"

Y/N merely nodded, not even able to croak out a 'yes' before Sophie walked back into the room.

"Okay, I'm ready to go. Y/N?" Sophie asked, watching as her friend agreed and grabbed her things before walking towards the door where Sophie stood.

"Thanks for the class." Y/N turned around and smiled at Harry, throwing him a small wave as she started following Sophie out the door.

"Anytime." He winked at her.

"Bye Styles!" Sophie shouted, her keys clinking as she waved at Harry, behind her.

"Bye Soph." Harry called out, his eyes still transfixed on the girl behind his friend.

He didn't take her eyes off her as they walked towards the exit, taking in every detail of her delicate body as she moved further and further away from him. She was painstakingly beautiful. How had she just walked in? As soon as the girls disappeared behind the door, Harry let out a big sigh.

"Fuck." He murmured under his breath.

He really hoped Y/N would take him up on his offer. Harry had very quickly and very suddenly developed this intense need to help the girl, and that couldn't mean anything good.

Maybe he'd never see her again. She did sound very unsure. Besides, who said that she even wanted to go to this class? For all Harry knew, Sophie could've just used her manipulative convincing tricks, and Y/N, the polite angel she was, would've felt too bad to decline. Maybe, she thought he was an ass and didn't want anything to do with him.

In spite of the countless theories flying through his head, he knew that she wanted it. He had seen it in her eyes. She did really want to join the class, she was simply too nervous. But whether she would take him up on the offer, that was the question. He'd have to wait until the following week.

Strangely enough, he couldn't wait until it was Tuesday. He couldn't wait to find out…

[zvdvdlvr]

— late night therapy?

🩻 synopsis. late night conversation, greg wants to know why you’re with him of all people.

🩻 warnings. suggestive content, foul language.

“Why do you like me?” 

Y/n looked up from her book. “What?” 

“I’m old. I’m a cripple. I… literally have two friends and no people skills. I know my amazing fashion sense and long, hard wood is enticing, but by golly, if those are your only standards-“ 

Y/n closed her book. She noticed the television was off, Greg had been clearly been thinking about this for awhile. Not only that, but his jaw was clenched, and his left eye was just slightly narrowed- all indicators of (over)thinking. “Besides the fact your ruggedly handsome and extremely masculine voice makes me purr like a motorcycle?”

At least y/n’s comment made Greg crack a smile. “Yes, besides the obvious,” he murmured, tilting his head to the side.

“Because… you’re one of the only people who calls me out when I’m wrong. One of the only people who can put up with me. One of the only people who makes me laugh, with your morbid, dry, perverted humor,” y/n listed. 

House turned these over in his mind. Why, though? Why would such an amazing, smart, sexy wonderful woman settle for an old cripple? “Wilson thinks you could do better,” he drawls, not actually knowing if Wilson thinks this. 

“Do you care what they think?” Y/n asks, quick to notice the change in Greg’s voice. The way his eyebrows furrow, his Adam’s apple bobs, his eyes narrow even more.

No. “Do you?” 

“I wouldn’t change a damn thing about you,” y/n shrugs. “You’ve always got me, if that’s what you’re thinking about. I can’t imagine my future without you in it, I guess.” Y/n tried her best to play of the sentiment, but Greg was already smiling widely at her statements. 

“Is this, like, a hint? Am I supposed to propose now?” Greg asks, tapping his finger to his chin. 

“Oh so you’ve got a ring?”

Scoffing, House looks away from y/n’s piercing eyes. “Oh, shut up, you.”

“Make me,” y/n’s teases. 

Greg tsks. “I would but I’m pretty sure my hobble steps would immediately turn you off. As fast as a light switch.”

“Oh goody, does that mean if I go over there I get to be on top tonight?” Y/n asks, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Get over here and see, you weirdo,” Greg chuckles, opening his arms for a woman he knows would place her faith in him forever, even if he knew he didn’t deserve it.

[michelle-is-writing]

Christmas, Dr. Gregory House

Word count: 1.8k~

Warnings: mention of sex, House being House

"It's a marshmallow world in the winter," I sing, stringing lights on my apartment's Christmas tree. "When the snow comes to cover the ground," I sing the next verse of Brenda Lee's song before turning toward Greg with a smile. Sitting on the couch, the salt and pepper haired man sips at a small glass of eggnog (with a shot of whiskey in it, no less) while staring at the tree with a bored look on his face. Even when he sees my smile, he still remains there with a frown.

"Greg," I state his name, his blue eyes flickering up to mine. Seeing that I have his attention, I smile. "Come help me set up the tree."

"Why? So we can just take it down two weeks later?" He asks, making me sigh, my smile now a frown to match his. I love Greg, but I absolutely hate his pessimistic views - and with it being the week of Christmas, I will not let his negative opinions ruin anything.

"Fine," I say to him, placing the string of lights down beside me. "If you don't want to do that, then do something else for me," He raises an eyebrow in question at me, waiting for me to finish. "Come dance with me."

All of a sudden, he breaks into a dry laugh before stopping all of a sudden with his usual frown. "Have you forgotten?" He asks me, holding his hands over his crippled leg. “Crippled, if you haven’t noticed.”

Rolling my eyes with a smirk, I nod at him. "How could I forget?" I ask him, "There isn't a moment that goes by that you don't use it to your advantage," with that, I let out a fake thoughtful sigh. "And there isn't a moment that goes by where I don't say 'no' to you on getting on top."

At my response, he tilts his head sideways while staring at me with squinted eyes like a child would if you teased them. At his behavior change, I smile once again before walking over to him by the couch. Serves him right for being a smart ass all the time, and finally, I said something he had no clap-back to.

"I don't want to break dance or anything like that," I tell him, taking his rough and big hands into my own smaller ones. "I just want to slow dance with you."

For once, he slowly smiles up at me before standing up with a little help from me. "Okay," He says, stumbling a bit as he tries to stand up straight without his cane. "We'll dance - but if I fall, I'm taking you down with me."

Giggling at him, I nod and kiss his lips for a short second before we wrap our arms around each other and start slow dancing. The next Brenda Lee song that comes on is a slower and sweeter song that I enjoy a lot. Greg on the other hand doesn't really care for anything Christmas, so he could give two thoughts less.

"Rockin' around the Christmas Tree at a Christmas party hop," I sing in a light voice, watching as Greg continues to smile and stare at me. "Mistletoe hung where you can see, every couple tried to st-" I continue on, until abruptly being cut off by Greg's lips on mine. We continue to kiss each other for a few seconds until pulling away, a smirk resting on Greg's face.

"What was that for?" I ask him with a shocked grin. Still smirking, Greg just looks above him with me following his gaze, a small green piece of berry filled fern hanging above us. I don't remember putting that up there...

"I thought it would be useful," Greg states as we both look back at each other. "Turns out this cripple can do a few things for his woman," He notes, matter-of-factly.

Smirking back at him, I shake my head in comical disbelief. "Out of all of these Christmas decorations, you put up mistletoe?" I ask him, receiving a shrug back.

"I like this tradition better than the rest," Greg confesses, still gently swaying us. "Besides," he leans in close, his lips close to my cheek. "It benefits us both."

In response, I can't help but slap his shoulder with a giggle. "You perv," I chide, moving to rest my hands on his shoulders while his linger on my waist. "How long has that been up there?"

"I put it up this morning," He answers with a gentle tone just before we both fall into a comfortable silence. Did I expect Greg to do anything festive during these happy times? Absolutely not. But was I really all that surprised in finding mistletoe that just so happens to be festive? Kind of. Being a little bit of a narcissist, Greg only put that up because he could use the excuse that it was Christmas themed instead of the actual reason being that he just wanted to kiss me without showing spontaneous romance - a possible weakness to him.

As we dance with each other, I quickly notice the usual bags underneath his eyes are slowly fading away and the blueness of his irises have turned more lively with brightness lively in them. In the short amount of time of being away from work, Greg is starting to look a bit younger than he actually is. Although, I do think this is due to him being away from the stressful environment that is his work. And to think, he actually took these days off for me; maybe he isn't such a narcissist after all...

During my thinking, Greg has managed to move us over near the couch while we were dancing, only to trip and cause us both to fall over on the soft cushions. Of course, he did this on purpose. Scrap my earlier thought - he's definitely a narcissist.

"Oops," He says sarcastically, "I fell," Greg points out, staring up at me with a small smirk beginning to take over his lips once more.

At his goofiness, I roll my eyes at him and lightly pat his chest a few times before moving to get up. However, when I go to move over him, Greg quickly catches me in his arms and pulls me back down to his chest, holding me close to him as if he wants me to stay where I am.

"No, no, just stay here, please," He begs, his voice resuming its gentle tone from earlier. Nonetheless, it takes me by surprise. I would have never expected Greg to say that. As I mentioned before, he'll use any excuse he can find to make it seem like he's not being romantic or sweet.

"Okay," I tell him, my eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion as I nuzzle my head further into his chest to become a bit more relaxed in his embrace. "Are you comfortable?" I ask, moving my leg away from his bad one.

"The most I'll ever be," He answers me, his hand smoothing down my hair. "Have I ever told you how great it is to lie with you?" He questions me, making me roll my eyes once again.

"Are you talking about when we’re having sex or when we do this?" I ask for clarification, making him chuckle.

"I mean like this," He answers as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. "Then again, I do enjoy both situations, but I'm talking about right now," I can't help but smile as my cheeks heat up a little in response to his words, a sigh soon falling from his lips. "I've been married before and had a few girlfriends, but nothing with them could ever compare to how I feel with you. You just make me feel the best I have felt in a while," He further admits, his voice still soft and quiet with his confession.

Sighing sweetly, I shake my head against the soft material of his grey jumper before speaking. "I bet you've told all your women that," I half-joke, quickly receiving an answer back.

"No, actually, I haven't," Greg retorts, making me look up at him with furrowed eyebrows. Bright blue eyes look back at me with no emotion, yet at the same time, pure honesty. "I haven't told any other women this because it wouldn't be true, and well, I wouldn't care if they heard me say it or not," Sitting us up a bit, Greg places his hand on my cheek in a sensual and meaningful way.

"(Y/n), I love you," He confesses, his voice never wavering or cracking up. In response to his words, my eyes slightly widen as I feel my whole body become tense. "And I know I may not be the most expressive guy when it comes to my emotions, but believe me when I tell you that you have made me a better man," He adds on, his thumb now beginning to softly run over my cheek.

"Or, at least, I think I have," Greg adds, giving a soft shrug. "Ultimately, it’s you and the guys at work that would see it, so you might have to ask them just to be sure," his words make me roll my eyes that are currently tearing up, but I can't resist my smile at the same time. Once again, Greg can't let it be known that he can be spontaneously romantic at times. "They'd probably tell you I'm still an ass, but I think-"

Before he can say anymore, I move forward and press my lips to his in a sweet kiss. Of course, he kisses back instantly, but not before he smiles as well. Once we pull apart, I stare down at him breathlessly before speaking. "I love you too, Greg," I tell him, the four words I have been dreaming about telling him falling freely from my lips. "I have for a long time, but I was... I was too scared to say it."

Greg then smiles back at me and tilts his head to the side as he moves his arms down to my waist and holds my body closer to his. "Well," he says, searching his mind for a sarcastic answer. A few seconds pass until he sighs and looks back at me with an even bigger smile. "Here’s your Merry Christmas," He chimes, jokingly mocking me.

Grinning at him, I shake my head before he moves forward and reattaches our lips once more, the tune of Christmas carols playing behind us as we kiss. Maybe Greg won't be so pessimistic about Christmas anymore. I mean... we can only pray and hope so. Nonetheless, I guess it really is a Merry Christmas to me.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Changes

What do you do when the person you once were becomes the person you miss being the most?

Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of alcohol abuse, fluff, flirty Jungkook, no smut in this I'm sorry pls still read it :( there's some tension tho!!

Length: 6.5k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

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"Thanks for picking him up." Taehyung sighs, his son happily in the living room, taking a nap from school as he tucks himself in on the couch while his favorite show plays on the TV.

"I would've asked her, you know, but I feel like I'm relying too much on her again." The young father sighs. "I'm basically treating her the same as I did years ago, just without the pay."

"I heard about that." Jungkook says, drinking his coffee at the kitchen table where he sits across Taehyung. "She used to nanny while you lived separately from your wife, I think it was." He hums, setting his cup down. Jungkook isn't on bad terms with Taehyung's wife- but he tends to not say her name, because he honestly harbors quite a bit of distaste towards the woman who refuses to properly take care of her own child.

"Well don't you seem to know a bit about her now." Taehyung squints his eyes in suspicion. "What happened to 'she's too young for me anyways' huh?" He teases, and Jungkook sighs.

"Well, things.. happened. And we talked." He shrugs. "We're not.. really a couple, but we agreed to spend time with one another." He explains.

"So you're friends with benefits?" He wonders, drinking his tea while Jungkook leans back.

"No." He shakes his head, even though deep down, it does kind of feel like that to him, now that he thinks about it a bit more. "It's.. a bit more complicated than that. We're simply talking, seeing where it goes." He says.

"Hmhm." Tae nods. "Just don't break her heart. I still got basically nightmares from her last relationship." He mumbles a bit angrily to himself, clearly a bit irritated even just by the thought of it.

"I.. wondered what happened." Jungkook says. "Dae said he was a drinker?" He wonders, and Taehyung nods.

"Drinker, druggie, abusive asshole." He huffs, crossing his arms. "It's the main reason she moved away when Daehyun was younger. She wanted to protect him- make sure he won't get hurt."

"Was he violent?" Jungkook wants to know, because honestly, he has a hunch that that might've been the case. Taehyung seems on edge now, clearly torn between probably saying the truth, and respecting your privacy. "I was intending to ask her anyways. But she seems like the type to downplay her problems in order to make things seem less serious, so I thought you might be more honest." He adds.

"Yeah, she is like that." Tae agrees softly. "I'm not too sure what exactly went down. But I do know that she.. distanced herself out of fear that Daehyun might get hurt." He tells his friend. "Greg started to pick her up every time she'd babysit Daehyun at my house, even after I told him I didn't like that. He still did, still argued, turned up drunk multiple times at my doorstep." The young father remembers. "I kept her with me, of course. I'd never let her drive home with that alcoholic- but I guess something must've happened because she just.. suddenly cut contact." He shrugs. "Sent me a text, changed her number, moved out her old apartment."

"When did she come back?" Jungkook wonders.

"According to Yoongi, a few weeks before the aftershow party." Taehyung responds.

"So that's why you didn't recognize her?" He figures, and Tae nods.

"She changed a lot. Not just visually. She's.." His eyes lower to the cup in his hand. "..a lot more quiet. Cautious. Jumpy." He informs his friend. "And at the same time, she seems to mask a lot of it- get's irritated easily. She's trying to be who she was, but it's obvious that something changed, and whenever someone notices, she becomes defensive."

Jungkook doesn't really know what to think. Looking at Daehyun on the couch, he can absolutely understand your standpoint back then to get away from Taehyung's family in order to protect them- but that means there must have been at least some form of fear against your former partner to make you believe that he could potentially be a danger to the young boy and his father. It could also just be jealousy, of course- but Taehyung is right. You are a little odd sometimes.

And he doesn't know if he wants to know exactly why, or if he wants to let sleeping dogs rest.

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Jungkook leans back in his office chair, headache already almost too unbearable to him, especially considering the woman who's making her way up in the giant corporate building to see him.

She wants money again, he knows it. Evelyn only ever visits him if there's something she wants, after all.

"One might argue they'd know me by now." Evelyn huffs as she enters the office, hair a bit wet as she throws her coat over the chair in front of his desk, before she sits down. "How're you doing?" She wonders, and Jungkook doesn't look away from his laptop's screen whatsoever, still looking through his e-mails. He doesn't have to put too many thoughts into this conversation after all- she's most likely just here to leech off of him again.

"Cut it." He simply says. "What do you want?" He asks, phone on his desk vibrating and chiming with a new notification.

'I can just drop something off for you? I just got off work myself, so it's no hassle.' your message reads, an answer to a former rant from him about his headache, and the fact that he's 'locked in like a dog' in his office and without any proper food ever since this morning. It makes him softly smile a little, the fact that you want to bring him something to eat even though you're probably exhausted from your shift as well is something he's not used to. And he didn't even have to ask for it.

'Only if it's really not an issue for you' his answer reads, and you send a thumbs-up emoji as an answer, before you finish typing your proper answer.

'DW, is anything okay or do you want something specific?' you question, and he immediately types a response.

'Just whatever, really. Nothing too spicy though, please.' he offers, when a hand knocks on the table in front of him, the woman in his office dragging him back into reality with force. He signs, locks his phone before he puts it down, opening a chat with the front desk downstairs to let them know to bring you up when you arrive.

"You know, this was always the issue, Jungkook." Evelyn whines, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed. "You're so consumed by your work, it's crazy." She shakes her head.

"That wasn't work, actually." He bites back with a monotone voice, not really offering her any emotion whatsoever- there's nothing left in him anymore he could offer anyways. She took it all, sucked it out of him like an insect, and now she's constantly upset that he's empty inside.

"Anyways, I got this letter recently stating that there was an issue with the bank transfer?" She says, giving him the letter to read- which he does, flying over it just to remember why that bank transfer did not go through. "I told them that they'll get their money by friday." She hums, leaning her face on her palm while he gives her the letter back.

"What do I have to do with it then?" He asks, and she sits upright again, tilting her head a bit in irritation. "You said they'll get their money by friday. Good. Why are you here then?" He asks, arms crossed, office chair squeaking a bit as he leans back into it.

"Well, it's your bank account!" She laughs a bit unsure. "I don't even know why there was apparently not a sufficient balance on it." She argues.

"I resigned the automatic transfer rights." Jungkook tells her, face not moving an inch as he breaks the news. "The letter doesn't mention an insufficient balance at all, Evelyn. It states that there's no bank account set for the automated transfer option at all." He informs her.

"What the fuck Jungkook?!" She barks. "And you didn't even tell me?!" She yells, standing up to slap her hands on his desk. "You can't just make these changes and not inform me about it! Do you know how expensive that was?!" She accuses, and he shrugs, noticing something move behind her, milky glass front of his office hiding what's going on inside and outside, only letting shadows be seen if someone's close enough. "I'll text you the invoice later, and you better fucking pay, you asshole!" She says, when she whips her head around, someone opening the glass door.

"Thanks." You tell the office lady having let you in, before your eyes widen, door closing behind you and instantly drowning out all noise except the very slight sound of the fan in the corner of the room.

"Ah, there you are." Jungkook sighs, suddenly feeling a lot lighter as he looks at you. "Come here- is it still raining a lot?" He wonders easily, taking the white plastic bag from you to set it on his table, before giving you a small hug to greet you. "I think that was all you wanted, wasn't it?" He asks Evelyn, who hasn't even gotten up from her seat, instead clearly studying you now.

"Actually, no." She tells him. "And it's kind of private, so it would be real nice if your assistant would leave." She tells you with a smile that reminds you of a snarling dog.

"Then come back a different day." Jungkook answers her however, offering to take your coat from you to hang next to his own on the wall close to the large windows. "Right now I'm really not in the mood for whatever it might be. Especially not with my girlfriend in the room." He bluntly says, and something seems to flash over her face at the mention of your alleged role in his life.

She slowly stands up to take her coat from the back of the chair, movements a lot slower now, a glare sent into your direction. "Don't get your hopes up, sweetheart." Evelyn tells you, slipping into the sleeves of her coat. "His first love will always stay his job." She almost threatens, before she takes her purse and leaves through the door, leaving a confused you, and a clearly exhausted Jungkook behind.

"Please, sit down." He offers, and you do so, watching how he leans back in his chair, hands running over his face before he sits up again. "I'm sorry. That timing couldn't have been worse." He sighs.

"Ah, here. Do you have water here?" You wonder, and he nods, pointing towards a water dispenser in the room. "Oh, fancy." You laugh, walking up to fill a cup to put in front of him. "I take them myself, they usually help really quickly. Not trying to murder you." You tease, and he chuckles, taking the medication and the cup for himself.

"Thank you, really." He sighs out before taking the pill, washing it down with half of the cup's contents before he closes his eyes for a moment. "God I hate her so much." He suddenly breaks out laughing, before he shakes his head, digging through what you've bought for him.

"I assume that was your ex wife?" You wonder, and he nods.

"I'm also really sorry for telling her you're my girlfriend when we haven't even talked about that yet." He tells you a bit.. shyly almost, while you pull the bag closer to take something out for yourself.

"It's fine." You shrug. "Got a nice ring to it, you know?" You joke, and he smiles, starting to eat.

It's quiet, but not oddly so. He enjoys this a lot, this company without any pressure, no eerie sense of something being about to happen. You're clearly here because you want to be, there's nothing you want from him, nothing you need, nothing you could gain from this. It's just what it is, nothing else, nothing to red between the lines.

"You can ask why she was here, by the way." He offers you, wiping his mouth with a tissue.

"I don't have to know." You say, however. "It's got nothing to do with me- right?" You ask, and he nods. "Then it's none of my business. You can rant to me about it, sure, but I can't really give you any opinions on it since I don't really know her, or the situation around you and her." You tell him.

Jungkook watches you for a moment, before he nods. "You're right." He agrees, letting go of the topic entirely for now. He know it's only fair to talk to you about it at some point- but right now is not the time for that, he decides. "Do you want me to drive you home later? I really only have to answer this one E-mail and then I can clock out." He tells you between bites, wiping his fingers before he taps away on his keyboard.

"If it's not a bother, sure." You shrug. "You said you got the weekend off, right?" You ask him, and he nods a bit absentmindedly. "Then how about you stay over?" You ask, and that definitely seems to catch his attention.

"Stay over?" He asks, just to make sure he heard it correctly, and you nod.

"Yeah." You nod. "It's, you know, what boyfriends do with their girlfriends." You tease, making him roll his eyes. "We could cook something, watch a movie. Oh, and one of the lightbulbs in my kitchen broke, so maybe you could fix that for me?" You chirp, and he suddenly smiles brightly to himself, clicking something on his laptop before he shuts it down. "What's that grin for, mister?" You ask, and he just shakes his head.

"Nothing, really." He tells you. "I'm just really happy." He confesses, and you smile the same, now a bit shy.

"Well, what's your answer then?" You wonder, watching him pack the leftovers back into the bag, before he walks to get both his and your jackets, helping you into yours.

"My answer is yes." He says, voice very close to your ear as he leans over your shoulder from behind you, hands on your arms for a second. "I'd love to stay over and fix that lightbulb too, of course.-"

"Since I heard that's what boyfriends do with their girlfriends."

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"There we go." He says, slowly climbing down the plastic kitchen chair you're holding onto just in case. "Anything else while I'm here?" He genuinely asks, and you shake your head, moving the chair back to the small kitchen table.

"No, that was all. Thank you, really." You say, before you move to open the fridge, taking out some things while he stands around with his hands in his pockets. Your apartment is pretty small- living in it together with you would most likely prove to be way too much, but he still thinks it's better than his own, in terms of.. quality.

His own home feels empty. There's nothing in it, it's way too big for a single person, and the view from so high up above the clouds has long lost it's charm to him.

He sits down at the kitchen table, leaning on it a little as he watches you wash some vegetables before you grab a cutting board and a knife. "Daehyun said you're a little lonely without your dog." He says, and you giggle a little, smiling to yourself. "Have you considered getting another one?" He wonders, but you just shrug.

"I'm too busy at the moment." You deny. "I used to bring him to work with me, since he was a very quiet and calm dog, which fit perfect into our office." You remember. "He'd always sleep under my desk, right on my feet. Always kept them warm." You softly say, and he notices that he might've struck a still hurtful topic if only from the sound of your voice becoming somewhat tighter.

"I can imagine. I always wanted a dog too-" He sighs, leaning back. "But.. Evelyn, the woman you saw today, she doesn't like them. So it was out of the question."

"Really?" You wonder, cutting up the vegetables. "I mean, I guess, if both of you were really busy then it probably was for the best." You hum, tension leaving you again. "Gotta look at the bigger picture."

"Yeah, maybe it was for the best." He agrees. To be honest, Evelyn would've probably fought over the dog as well, just like she did over the apartment, and other more petty things like fucking furniture. She wanted to ruin him, if financially then emotionally, and somehow, she somewhat did.

It's quiet again, when you, surprisingly to him, cut into a topic he did not expect.

"His name was Greg." You say, filling a small pot with water before you place it on the stove, turning it on. "You probably talked about him with Taehyung."

"I did." He admits. "But there's not much I know." He offers. "And like you said about my situation, I don't have to know about things that don't concern me. However-" He begins, getting up to now stand closer, find your gaze that's turned downwards onto the cutting board. "-I don't want to accidentally do something that might make you uncomfortable due to past experiences." He says.

"What a tactful way to ask me if I've got any trauma from that guy." You chuckle, moving to put the cut up vegetables in a bowl before you continue the preparations for dinner.

"I'm trying to be gentle here." He attempts to lighten up the mood, and you indeed smile at that.

"And I'm very thankful for that." You offer him, before you sigh, setting down the knife. "I don't.. think we're at a point where I should be dumping all of what happened onto you." You inform him, and he nods, accepting that. "I don't like yelling. If I feel uncomfortable, I'll probably try and get myself out of a situation by any means necessary-" you admit, turning a little to look at him. "-and that will probably include some nasty words thrown your way, if that get's you away from me." You tell him. "And I don't like alcohol. Even if you hand me full on medical evidence that you can't even get drunk, the moment I smell it- I just can't trust you." You say, and he nods.

"Alright, I respect that." He nods.

"I'll also get pretty clingy over time." You add on, making him nod. "And I can be annoying. I'll text you a lot." You continue, and a small smile sneaks itself onto his lips as he shrugs, crossing his arms. "The moment you invite me into your home I'll practically steal half of your closet contents-"

"Is that what he told you?" He wonders, and you grow quiet, eyes avoiding him. "I'm obsessed with my work." He begins his own rant, standing up to walk closer to you. "I never have time for anything else. I'm boring. Sometimes rude, and immature. I'm a perfectionist, but I'm also lazy. I snore, and I work out too much to the point where I'm sweating buckets. I'm a little messy." He tells you, hugging you from behind, though not very intimately- giving you a clear way out if you so want to.

"…is that what she told you?" You answer, and he smiles.

"Let's just agree on getting to know each other just the way we are, not the way someone else described us in the past." He offers, and you nod.

"Alright." You hum, before you push him a little playfully. "Now go and let me cook in here, boyfriend." You tease, making him grin impishly, his tongue running over his bottom lip as he does not walk away from behind you, hands now flat on your ass. "Hey!"

"What? I'm out of your way like this." He tells you almost innocently, hands moving to hold your waist now.

"Sit down there and let me cook!" You laugh.

"But we wanted to cook together, no?" He wonders. "Like.. boyfriend and girlfriend." He leans his chin on your shoulder.

"Well, boyfriends let their girlfriends cook in peace." You threaten, making him chuckle as his fingers squeeze your hips a bit.

"Not if their girlfriend is this attractive." He purrs, making you roll your eyes.

"Jungkook…" You wonder, suddenly way more serious, making his stand up straight again so you can face him. "Is.. that what we are now?" You ask, and his lips part for a second, unsure of his own answer. "I mean, it's fine if we're just playing around. Just.. I'm scared that we might end up in some.. unnecessary drama down the line if we're blurring the lines too much without properly discussing things first." You say.

"What do you mean?" He asks, and you sigh.

"What if you end up calling me.. your girlfriend just as a joke? But I start believing it at some point- thinking we are something serious when we're not. Or the other way around." You explain. "I don't want us to get hurt again. Neither of us."

Jungkook takes a deep breath, and from this close proximity, you can make out two odd dots near his bottom lip you're not too sure of. You might ask him about them some other time.

"Let me take time off of work. Next week, three days." He offers, catching you off guard. "Let's go on a trip. Together. Someplace no one knows us, and we don't know either." He tells you.

"I mean- I would've had friday and the weekend off anyways but-"

"Okay, great, perfect. I'll cancel my Friday meetings." He tells you, hands moving- at first, they seem to attempt to hold your cheeks- but it's like that feels too intimate yet, so he settles for your shoulders. "Let's get to know each other. The real you and me that got.. buried at some point." He offers.

"Why on a trip?" You ask.

"Because it's perfect." He chuckles. "Close proximity of the hotel room we'll share, stress of navigating the unfamiliar environment, the tension of not being able to just 'escape' any uncomfortable situation right away forcing us to talk things out as they happen-" He begins, and your mouth shapes an 'o' as you realize what he's talking about.

"It's a stress-test." You say, and he nods, grinning.

"Exactly." He nods.

"…to be honest you're already stressing me out." You jokingly reply-

Jungkook laughing, and you have a feeling he's not done that in a long time, with the way his ears turn red and his hand covers his mouth in embarrassment of that outburst.

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When Taehyung opens the door, he instantly greets his son who Jungkook has put down the moment he'd noticed the young father arriving at the front door to let him in.

"Oh wow." Taehyung laughs as Jungkook walks in, almost nervously running a hand through his hair. "Is the world ending? Apocalypse? Or am I high?" He jokes, making Jungkook roll his eyes. "No, seriously! I didn't even know you could still put those piercings back in!" He laughs, taking Dae's school backpack to take out his lunchbox so he can sort out the leftovers and wrappers from his snacks.

"It was a bit tricky, I won't lie." He laughs a little. "But they didn't really close all that much since I had them for so long, so it wasn't a big deal." He shrugs.

"What's the occasion?" Tae wonders, throwing the wrappers of Daehyun's snacks in the trash. "You most certainly don't look like you're gonna go to a meeting like that. What happened to 'I'm not in my twenties anymore' huh?" He jokes.

"I'm honestly not sure." He answers, hands in the pockets of his pants. "Just.. felt like it. And I'm not going to the office- I took time off." He confesses.

"Okay, are you running a fever?" Taehyung asks, and Jungkook laughs to himself. "Are you gonna meet up with your.. friend?" He air-quotes, and Jungkook nods, checking the silver watch on his wrist.

"Yeah- we're meeting up later, she's currently packing her things last thing she texted me." He nods. "Our flight is in about three hours from now, but it's her first time flying, so we wanted to be there a bit early just in case." Jungkook shrugs.

"Oh, fancy." Taehyung laughs. "Why though?" He wonders, washing the colorful lunchbox of his son in the sink.

"Stress testing." Jungkook offers. "We just want to see if we can handle each other under pressure." He says, and Taehyung sighs.

"My god Jungkook, can you just once try and not make everything more complicated than it has to be?" He worries. "Just spend time with her. Go out for a coffee or something, watch a shitty movie at home and let her suck you off during the commercial break or something, you know, like NORMAL people!" He whines. "You're acting as if this is some million-dollar business discussion. It's really not." He huffs out in frustration. "Listen, I know Eve fucked you over bad, and honestly you've always had a shit-taste in women to begin with because holy fuck if I think back to Lucy-"

"Can you get to the point?" Jungkook complains, a little embarrassed as his friend brings up his admittedly terrible dating history.

"-yeah, sorry." He laughs. "But, trust me-" Taehyung says, drying his hands before he puts them on his friend's shoulders. "-she's honestly perfect for you. Once you help her get her confidence back up, trust me, you've got yourself someone who's not a raging cunt for once." He finishes his rant, and Jungkook takes a deep breath.

"You think?" He worries, and Taehyung nods.

"I do." He says, patting his friend's back before he leads him to his front door. "Be yourself. And I mean, your real self. Be that goofy dude who cries during disney movies and folds his laundry to Depeche Mode at 3 am."

"Why would I do that?" Jungkook cringes, thinking his friend is joking- but he's surprised to find Taehyung with a soft gaze instead, an encouraging smile on his lips.

"Because that's the Jungkook I know." He offers, a somber look on his face.

"And I miss him."

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"Let me take that." He offers, taking the suitcase from you. It's small, scratched up, and he can't help but notice the stickers on it. "You good to go?" He wonders, and you nod, closing the door before locking it, walking next to him out the apartment building towards his by now familiar car, his own luggage already in the trunk where he puts yours now as well.

The moment you sit next to him inside, is when you notice how.. different he is today. Not only from looks alone- but it feels different, oddly enough. Lighter. Not as serious as he usually is. "I wondered what those.. spots were." You say, looking at him from the passenger side, and he raises his brows while stopping at a red light, turning his head towards you, who points to your own lower lip.

"Ah, yeah." He chuckles, a bit bashful. "I.. got them done in my early twenties. Took them out though, because.. I don't know." He shrugs.

"You don't know, of do you just realize that the reason was stupid?" You giggle, and he sighs, with a smile on his lips however.

"Caught me." He confesses, changing lanes as he makes his way to the airport.

"Why'd you put them back in?" You ask, leaning against the car door a bit.

"Because I wanted to be myself." He explains. "I.. like I said. I want you to get to know me. And not the person I became to please others around me." He tells you.

"I assume your.. ex wife didn't like the piercings?" You ask, testing how far you can pry into his past and how much you can poke until he tells you off. But much to your surprise, he seems rather unfazed by the topic.

"She hated my tattoos as well. Wanted me to get them removed constantly." He chuckles, and you're intrigued.

"You've got tattoos as well?" You ask, and he nods.

"Maybe I'll let you see them later?" He flirts, and you grin to yourself, adjusting your legs a little as you stay quiet. "Either way, Evelyn didn't like a lot about me."

"Then why did she marry you?" You ask, noticing too late how mean that question could come off.

"Probably for my bank account." He simply laughs. "I was.. stupid. I thought she was fixing me." He shakes his head. "I thought she only had my best interest in mind." He says, setting his turn lights to enter the airport parking area. "But she always hated me. Still does." He sighs, searching for a proper parking spot.

"Well, I don't hate you." You tell him.

"Yet." He mumbles, before he finally parks the car, turning off the engine. "Do you have your passport and everything on hand? Don't wanna have to unpack everything in a rush later at check-in." He tries to change the topic, but you look at him with eyes so soft that he becomes scared of them.

"Jungkook." You say his name, and he hates how kind it sounds. "As long as you're not like him, I won't hate you. Honestly, I don't even hate him." You tell him, and he nods a bit stiffly, before practically escaping the car, instead putting on his jacket before helping you take out your suitcase and handbag.

Inside the airport, he notices your nervousness, hand constantly reaching out but never holding on to him at all, in any way. It makes him chuckle a little as he watches you fight with yourself for quite a while, before he helps you check in.

You're clearly a bit overstimulated by everything going on around you, looking around anxiously, biting the inside of your lips constantly, even as you both sit down to wait for your gate to open for boarding. "Hey-" He reaches out to tug your lip from your teeth with his thumb, before he smiles in reassurance. "Okay?" He wonders, and you nod, though you're not looking at him. "Come here. You can hold onto me, by the way, if that helps you." Jungkook suggests, and you move your arms to wrap around one of his, body scooting closer to lean your face against his shoulder, sweater soft against your skin. He moves his arm around your shoulders to keep you closer, hand offering itself for you to hold instead, and you do so, fingers cold. "What's that scar?" He wonders, thumb running over a faint scar over the palm of your hand.

"A shoelace." You say, a little quietly.

"A shoelace?" He repeats, and you nod.

"Yeah." You confirm. "I had.. I was in the midst of changing the laces of.. Gregory's boots, because the dog had chewed them. But he got mad anyways, and pulled them out of my hand." You remember. "It happened really quickly, but I remember that it hurt badly." You chuckle. "It was an odd pain. Like my body couldn't decide whether or not I was burned or cut."

Jungkooks hand on your shoulder starts to move a little in a soothing motion, fingers circling around. It's his first confirmation that something did indeed happen, and he's almost convinced that what you just told him was probably not an isolated incident, but simply one of many that went down during your entire relationship.

"I didn't want him to get mad at Yogi. He already hated the poor dog enough." You sigh, closing your eyes as you settle against Jungkook's side. He enjoys this close proximity, the domestic feel of this moment, even though it's out in public and for everyone to see. He doesn't care.

"You can heal with me, you know?" He says, and you look up at him from where you're leaning against his body. "I can't promise you that.. our time spent will be all smooth sailing, but I can assure you that it will be nothing like what you've experienced." He hums towards you.

And you smile warmly, sighing. "Don't worry-" you giggle, closing your eyes.

"-It already is."

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

The hotel room is spacious, expensive looking, nothing like you've seen before.

Usually, you only really get to see things like these on vacation photos your friends show you- you yourself don't really travel, you technically don't take time off at all, rather always asking to have your off-days paid out instead if possible. You've got no reason to treat yourself with anything, be it time off or a full on vacation.

Your sense of self worth has shriveled up like rotten fruit over the years, now thrown out like the garbage it is.

Jungkook meanwhile clearly has a routine in him, as he walks through every room first to check if everything's okay, just to then place his bag somewhere near the bed, a big yawn escaping him as he opens the balcony door wide, letting the air of the seaside in. It's odd to see him dressed rather casual, simple but expensive sweater stretching over his broad back. His face still shows the clear stress he's accumulated, and it makes you wonder.

"Do you.. go on vacations often?" You wonder, and he shakes his head.

"No, usually I only fly out for business trips." He explains, watching you sit on the edge of the twin-sized bed. "I originally thought I should book two single beds, by the way. I just.. thought it might be more intimate like this." He tells you, leaning against the small balcony's edge outside, glass door open, as the wind blows through the curtains a little.

"It's okay like this." You nod, making him smile softly.

"Do you want to rest a little?" He asks, and you shrug, unsure. You only have three days- if you sleep now, it's probably annoying to him since he most likely planned something on this trip for you both to do. He at least comes across as someone who likes to have everything set out and structured- not like you, who dives in head first without any real plan. You don't want him to stay hidden inside the hotel room just because you're tired from the flight. "Hey." He asks, and you didn't even notice him squatting down in front of where you sit, his hands on your knees as he finds your eyes from where he's looking up at you. "Don't hesitate to speak your mind. If we want this to work, we need honestly, first and foremost." He encourages, and you nod.

"I'm tired- but I don't want to be boring." You worry.

"How would taking a nap be boring?" he chuckles. "I'm actually glad you're tired. I didn't want to come off as an old man who needs a break because he can't keep up." He laughs, standing up before he moves to lay down on the bed, patting the spot right next to him.

You lay down where he wordlessly suggested, taking in a deep breath while focusing your eyes on the collar of his sweater for a moment. It's when your gaze roams around that you notice something poke out on his wrist as he turns back around from removing his watch from the other arm. Your fingers curiously lift the fabric of the sleeve, making him chuckle quietly, before he moves to push the fabric up to his elbow, exposing different colors of ink underneath his skin.

What was Jungkook like when he was younger? Has he always been somewhat like this- or has he changed into this instead?

"Got them done in my early twenties too." He explains quietly. "Just.. lineart at first. Black and white." Jungkook remembers as he watches you trace some of the lines with your finger. "Then it got more. Over time, it looked a little messy- so I added color to it, this time actually going to a professional who specifies in forming sleeves." He tells you.

"Do you regret them?" You wonder. "Like.. your piercings and your tattoos?" You ask, and he shakes his head.

"It's not like I regret them." He denies. "I still like the look of them. The aesthetic of it. It's just.." He sighs, inked hand turning around palm up, and you put your own on top of his, making him move to compare your hand sizes palm to palm. "..they don't feel like me anymore." He shrugs.

"Maybe because they aren't." You offer, now holding his hand with both of yours, your eyes on the blurred ink underneath the skin. "Maybe.. you changed. Even though you didn't want to."

He did. He knows that he did- but what he struggles with, is the question if he can even go back now. He wants to, but at this point, he feels like he's crossed that line by now, too far to step back and take a different path. Most people around him nowadays only now this Jungkook, not the one he used to be. If he just reverts back to who he once was, will he lose every friendship and connection he's made after he married?

Marriage. The moment he changed.

Love can make someone truly blind to a lot of things. He overlooked so many warning signs, pushed old friends and even family away just because they saw what he did not- or more so refused to. He's not spoken to his own parents in years, by now too ashamed to admit that he'd been wrong for the entirety of his past relationship, that his mother was right about her. What would she think about you?

She'd like you, he's very sure about that. His father would probably be a little suspicious of the age gab, and his brother would most likely tease the living daylights out of him, but he knows you'd fit right in. Do you have a good relationship with your parents? What would they think of him?

He wants to ask you, but the moment he becomes aware and snaps out of his thoughts, your eyes are already closed, breathing even. You're still holding onto him, and he realizes that he's never actually had a moment like this with Evelyn in the past, not even when they were just a regular couple, and definitely not after they got married. He feels.. free. No pressure on him, no obligations awaiting him, nothing needed or expected from him. You're simply sleeping, and yet the act itself makes his pride swell, because of your display of trust towards him.

He knows you've been hurt. He knows that he's been hurt-

And maybe, just maybe, together, you can finally begin heal.

Change once more, for a final time, into a happier version of yourselves.

[thinkingaboutbetterdays]

feelings are scary. ( gregory house x reader )

gif belongs to me

He knew breaking up over a text message was the coward's way out, but there would be questions he didn't want to answer, uncomfortable feelings he tried to bury down and pretend didn't exist. Greg House didn't have healthy relationships. Especially not with a sexy ER nurse.

Before you started dating you were often lured to the clinic under false pretenses to see someone he considered interesting but it was just a way to see you. When his team failed to give him the answers he wanted, he would follow you around the ER and discuss his latest patient. You were always bubbly, smiling at his sarcastic remarks, and when he insulted your patients you always said, "Don't mind my friend here, he hasn't had his caffeine fix for the day."

You never turned him away. You were never exasperated by the amount of times he managed to trick you and when you started dating he realized you always knew it was a ruse, and went along with it anyway because you wanted to see him too.

Greg House didn't maintain healthy relationships. But for four blissful months, you did. And it terrified him.

Saying I love you opened doors he had long since locked. You admitted that you didn't need him to say it, but you wanted him to know how you felt. The next day you received his termination of your relationship and were stunned by how curt it was.

Once the knife stopped twisting, you realized you had expected this reaction and decided to give him time and space. For a week you pushed your feelings down, focusing on your job, and while he didn't visit you in the ER or get you to meet him somewhere in the hospital, you had felt the weight of his gaze more than once. He might not have spoken to you, but he still stopped by.

You did everything you could to stop thinking about the department head. Until a car crash victim died and everything came bubbling to the surface. You tore off your gloves and changed in the locker room, washing off the blood, and slumped on the bench, fending off tears that dried up as anger set in at how unfair it was that an eighteen-year-old was dead from a drunk driver.

When you made it to his department you noticed him on the balcony talking to James and stormed outside, gaining their attention.

"Uh, Y/N, h-hi -"

"Go away, Wilson."

"Right-o." He made a swift exit as House sighed, turning to look out at the view, resting his hands on the wall.

"I thought you'd crack sooner -"

"Shut up." You barked.

House raised an eyebrow, turning to look at you and seeing the tears in your eyes.

"You are an arrogant gasbag." His eyebrows rose at the insult as you were docile by nature. "What gives you the right to tell me how to feel? You don't. Do you think falling for you wasn't scary for me? Feelings are scary, Greg, and they feel like crap and sometimes they feel great and everything is butterflies and rainbows until an ego-maniac decides to stab you in the heart because he can't let himself be happy."

House listened quietly as you moved around, gesturing wildly with your hands.

"I know you are a gigantic pain in the ass. I know you're cynical. I know you use humor to keep people at arm's length but for a second, I thought that maybe you would finally let me in the door. And then you avoid me like I have the plague like a middle-grader! I mean, what the hell?"

You stopped pacing, finally meeting his gaze, and took a moment to catch your breath.

"Can I talk now?"

You rolled your jaw, nodding reluctantly.

"Come here."

You walked closer and when you were within arms reach, he brought you to his chest, kissing you hotly. You melted into his chest as he kept his balance by leaning on the wall. His arms wrapped around you, and the scent of his cologne made tears prick your eyes from how comforting it was.

The passionate kiss was the closest thing you would get to a confession. And right now that was enough.

[biahouse]

Perfect for him, Gregory House x Reader

You're House's girlfriend. Wilson doesn't like you, but... 3 times Wilson realized you were the perfect person for house, +1 time he finally admits it

There was something about you that James Wilson made to hate you.

Maybe it was the way you were the silliest nurse at the hospital, and always fell for the patients' stupid conversations.

Or because you always do your coworkers' duties.

Or the way that in every surgery he performs, you insist on being an assistant nurse and talking to her throughout the procedure.

Or maybe he hated having his best friend stolen.

Wilson didn't hate people. That was House's job. It was even comical that in your situation, House adored you and Wilson hated you with all his being.

Don't get me wrong, you weren't a bad person.

He just doesn't like you.

1

The first time Wilson realized you were perfect for his best friend was at lunch. Since the beginning of the relationship between you and Greg, the doctor in question used to have lunch with you in his office.

But on that particular day, you were very busy in surgery. So with no other alternative, House had to have lunch with Wilson.

It was a surprise for James to see his friend entering the room with a packed lunch. House was known for eating junk food with all his meals. So Wilson assumed that if that hadn't changed with your relationship, he was wrong.

"What is that?" Wilson asked with an incredulous look at the lined pots that Gregory placed on the table.

"Food?" House responded as if it were obvious and mocked his friend.

"Okay, I know. But, I mean... you don't usually eat that."

"I know" House threw himself into the chair and opened one of the jars and started poking a carrot. "Carrots are a horrible thing, you know?"

"House" Wilson called his friend carefully. "Is this some kind of diet for addicts that I don't know about?"

"No. Y/n told me that I should eat more vegetables if I wanted to live longer" The doctor rolled his eyes when he remembered the argument he had with his wife a few weeks ago and since then she usually makes him lunch. "So I'm pleasing my girl" And with that he stuffed the orange vegetable into his mouth with a grimace.

Wilson could only look at his friend in shock.

For years he had tried to get House to eat a healthier diet, and you had achieved it in just a few weeks. Wilson had to admit, he liked you a little more now.

2

The second time Wilson realized you were perfect for his best friend was a week after the lunch incident. He and House were bowling, like they did on Wednesdays.

However, there was something strange about House. He was limping and in more pain than usual.

"What is it? Are you afraid of losing to me or did you forget the Vicodin at home?" Wilson mocked his friend as he threw the ball into the pins.

"Neither" House limped closer to the track when it was his turn to play.

"Is the pain getting worse?" Now James asked worried that Greg's leg was getting worse.

"No"

"Okay House, you win. Why are you in pain?"

"Because I'm trying to taper off the Vicodin" House replied with a shrug and celebrated without a strike.

"What?" Wilson raised his voice making people look at him. Which made him apologize immediately. "You. Gregory House, are you trying to stop Vicodin?"

"Y/n said it's going to kill me. She didn't suggest I stop taking it, but she was upset that I took so many. So I'm trying to cut down."

Wilson opened his mouth in astonishment.

Who was that man?

Gregory House would never cut down on your daily Vicodin cocktail.

But he did, for you.

Only for you.

3

The third time Wilson realized you were perfect for his best friend was on a random day at the hospital a few months after the second time.

House entered his office as he always did, without knocking and suddenly, which made Wilson jump out of his chair every time, even though he was used to it. But something felt wrong that time.

The way House for the first time looked nervous and really confused. For a while, James watched his friend limp around the room as if he was begging for something very deep in his own mind.

Wilson waited, he knew that like every other time House would start telling him about his doubts and he would give him one of his beautiful pieces of advice, which House would probably never follow.

"I want to ask Y/n to marry me" House blurted out and looked at his friend nervously.

"What?" Wilson blurted out the question with a laugh. "Marriage?".

"Yes" Greg said, shaking his head and plopped down on the armchair in his friend's living room. "I thought about it all week"

"All week?"

"Are you just going to repeat everything I say or are you going to tell me your opinion on this?" Greg scoffed at his friend and adjusted himself in the chair, his leg hurting a little.

"What do you want me to say House?" Wilson asked and looked through his patient's files once more, before closing the folder and focusing fully on the matter at hand. "I thought I would never get married"

"I know" House passed his hand across the gap in his forehead. "I don't know why I want it. I just want it."

"Gregory House doesn't know why, that's something I never thought I'd hear" James smiled playfully.

"For the first time I want something more. I want her to be my wife. Is that a bad thing?"

"No," Wilson answered honestly. "It just means you're better House."

"Does that mean you'll help me pick out a ring?"

"As long as you don't make me pay."

Wilson would never understand his relationship with House. Or how two very different people could do such great things together.

Wilson didn't hate you. He understood now. It was just jealousy that you achieved everything he always tried to do. Improve House.

He didn't hate you. Now he respected you.

+1

“Hey Y/n” Wilson called out your name when he saw you walking down the hall with a clipboard.

"Wilson, hi!" You waved at him enthusiastically. It was the first time he willingly spoke to you.

"I just wanted to say thank you" James said making the woman frown in confusion.

"What are you thanking me for? I don't remember helping you" Y/n questioned.

"But it helped, with House" Wilson explained. "I'm sorry for treating you badly all this time."

"You didn't treat me" Y/n shrugged with a smile. "I stole your best friend, it makes sense that you don't like me that much. But it means a lot that you like me now."

"I think you two are perfect for each other," Wilson admitted for the first time out loud. "I can't wait to be the godfather."

"Godfather?" Y/n asked.

"You'll see" Wilson smiled knowingly. “I’ll see you around Y/n.”

[crljhnn]

Math tutor

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x fem!Reader

Summary: Rodrick is continuously unsuccessful in asking you out, so when he finds out that you are now tutoring his younger brother he decides to use this to his advantage. The only problem, Greg doesn't play along.

No physical description of the reader; No use of y/n

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: None

>Posted on AO3 as well<

“So that means x equals 9.” The answer comes out more like a question.

You've been tutoring Greg for about three weeks now and he finally, for the first time since starting this school year, seems to understand what is going on during math class.

“Yes, that’s right!”

“Really?”

While Greg wasn’t the first Heffley you ever tutored, he was the first to actually listen to what you said and process your explanations.

A few years ago you were taking the same math class as his older brother Rodrick who, back then, quite literally begged you to give him some tutoring lessons. While you didn’t like the idea of spending extra time at school to teach someone math, him apparently being so desperate for help, tugged at your heartstrings, making you give in.

On top of that, him being kind of cute and your teeny-tiny crush on him helped convince you as well. However, this adoration you harbored for about three months at that point, died about 5 minutes into your session.

He was barely paying attention to what you were saying, focusing more on drumming his pencils on the edge of the desk while humming along, using every breath you took to change the subject, mostly telling you about this little band of his. The straw that broke the camels back was when he dared to ask why you wanted to end the session only 15 minutes in, following it up with a „That was fun, let’s study together again soon!“.

Since you felt rather disrespected by that, you haven’t really spoken to him since. The highest form of communication was a forced smile when he would greet you in the hallway. You don’t have any common classes anymore.

However, your fiasco concerning Rodricks tutoring lessons didn’t stop his mom from asking you to tutor her younger son who, unsurprisingly, was falling behind in math as well. The significant difference this time was, that you were being paid. So even if Greg turned out to be just as uninterested in what you were saying as his older brother, it wouldn’t be a complete waste of time, at least for you.

That’s how you ended up in the local library every Monday and Wednesday for the last few weeks, explaining math to the younger brother of your former crush.

Today was different though. Since the library had to close down for a week, because of renovations, you decided to meet at the Heffleys house instead.

The last thing Rodrick expected, when he went downstairs to raid the fridge for snacks, was finding his crush of 3 years sitting in his living room.

Having his eyes fixed on you, he misses the last step, causing him to stumble, managing in the last second to grasp the railing to stop himself from face-planting. The result was him reaching the end of the stairs with a loud crash.

“You surely know how to make a remarkable entrance.”

“Haha yeah, hi.” He nervously scratches the back of his head “What are you… hah… what are you doing here?” ‘Stay cool Rodrick, you got this!’

“What does it look like? She’s tutoring me dumbass” The oldest Heffley son honestly didn’t even realize his younger brothers presence until he spoke up.

“Ah cool, so uhm good luck?” With another awkward laugh, he turns around and runs back upstairs.

Back in his room, he begins to panic, if he would have known that you were here he would have prepared better. But he’s sure he can still wing it.

First of all, he’s calling the band over for practice, I mean, he has his own band, chicks dig that.

He has it all planned out in his head, he will put on nice clothes, a nice perfume, and maybe even a bit of eyeliner as well, surely you’re into that. Then he’s gonna go downstairs, let his band in, and have a little jamming session with the boys.

Then there are two possible ways how the plan could continue to play out.

Possibility one, you hear his band playing from the living room and are so impressed that you just have to go and get a closer look. After that, he is going to invite you to sit in on practice for a bit longer. At the end of the session mesmerized will be an understatement to describe your state of mind and you won’t even have to think about it twice when he finally asks you out on a date.

The second possible outcome of you hearing him play is that you, while amazed, are still too shy to come up to him, so he will take a little break to get himself something to drink. Like one of those movie cliches, he’s gonna come in all sweaty, taking a sip of water and then emptying the rest of the bottle over his face and body to ‚cool himself down. Women find that hot, right? You definitely won’t be able to take your eyes off of him then.

While he is daydreaming about you drooling over him, he simultaneously digs through his closet, trying to find this one specific band shirt, that he bought after overhearing you gushing about their newest album. At the same time as he finds it, he hears his friends pull up, making him change in record speed while leaving his room to go back downstairs.

“Oh my god thank you for finally changing your shirt, the last one was smelling disgusting after you’ve been wearing it for like two weeks straight.” Greg had picked up on Rodricks crush on his tutor instantly, quickly deciding that using this new information to mess with him is the best form of revenge for the years of torture his brother put him through.

“Ugh shut up.” He turns to you “He’s lying you know. I change my clothes an appropriate amount of times. I actually just got ready for band practice. You remember me telling you about my band right? The boys are gonna be here any minute now.” He tries to be casual by leaning against the railing of the stairs but ends up stumbling instead.

“Yeah, I remember,” You don’t seem too happy about it though “But why do you have your shirt on backwards?”

Rodricks head snaps down. Fuck. Greg giggles. An awkward silence follows.

He's saved by the doorbell ringing, followed by the other Löded Diaper members walking in.

“Hi bro!”

“Yo Rodrick!”

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Why do you have your shirt on backwards?”

This time it’s you who giggles.

Sensing how embarrassed their band founder is, the boys take pity on him and rush him away.

After Rodrick explained his plan to his friends, resulting in him getting hyped up by them, they played for a while. After about 30 minutes he concludes that you won’t make the first move, which brings him to execute plan B of his strategy: to take matters into his own hands.

“You got this man!” He jogs back towards the living room, expecting to find you and his younger brother still studying but instead, he is greeted with Greg sitting in front of the tv playing video games.

“Oh is your tutoring session over already?” He tries to sound unbordered but fails horribly.

“Yeah you know I found it really hard to concentrate with this loud music, so we cut today short.” Greg grins up at the oldest Heffley child.

“Listen up you little shit-” he doesn’t finish his sentence. Maybe he could use Gregs help for his own benefit since you always seem to flee when he tries to make a move. It was the same a few years ago.

He had it all planned out back then as well. First, he was gonna ask you out for a study date, well that didn’t quite work out and it ended up more like a tutoring session. However, the result was that you two were spending some alone time together, so you could say that he roughly reached his initial goal. At least he counted it as a success.

Then Rodrick was going to make you fall for him. And how was he gonna do that? By impressing you of course. And what is the best way to impress a girl? Being in a band! Easy.

Well, that didn’t work out, driving you away even further. So maybe he could use his younger brother to get some inside info on what you like in men and what makes you fall for them.

Rodrick is fast to lay out his new plan to Greg.

“And why would I assist you with that? What is in it for me?” As expected, he is not exactly keen on helping his older brother out. So threatening it is.

“Cause if you don’t, you will regret it.” Greg is about to refuse again when he gets an idea. This would be the perfect way to get revenge on Rodrick. He is just gonna spin around everything you say and make his older brother ruin every chance he's ever had with you.

“Alright fine, I’ll do it.”

—

“Okay spit it out!” You and Greg are seated at your usual table at the library “You haven’t been able to sit still since you got here, what’s wrong?”

“I have a question.” He is not looking at you.

“Okay shoot!”

Greg has been thinking about how to interrogate you about your type without raising suspicions since the day he agreed to help Rodrick. “So there is this girl I kind of like and I wanted to ask you for advice. If a guy would want to go out with you, what would he need to do to stir your interest?”

“Well, every girl is different so-”

“Yeah but what about you?”

That confuses you a bit, but Greg asking you for girl advice was cute enough for you to not overanalyze it further.

“Well me personally, I like sweet and considerate guys,…”

—

“So what did she say?!” Rodrick was waiting for his younger brother at the front door, attacking him with questions as soon as he was close enough to hear.

“Calm down! So first of all she said, that she likes assholes you know, just your typical badboy!”

—

“…you know, the kind of guy who listens to what you have to say and really values your opinion. I want someone who actually hears what I say and shows that he is interested in me as a person...”

—

“She wants someone who is just a natural leader, an alpha, someone who makes decisions for her and shows dominance by interrupting her frequently. Also don’t seem too eager, she said she finds that overwhelming and just too much. Play it cool, act like you don’t care.”

—

“… so that means I also prefer deeper compliments, not just about my looks. Of course, it's nice to be called pretty every once in a while, but there is nothing worse than a guy repeatedly telling you how attractive you are, without ever appreciating anything else about you! Like is that the only thing about me that you like, my looks?…”

—

“She also likes to be complimented about her looks a lot, the more the better. Don’t even bother with any other kinds of compliments. ”

—

“… And lastly, never compliment a woman by putting other women down. The whole ‘Oh you're just not like other girls’ thing is deeply rooted in misogyny. It’s never a flattering compliment when it's only working because you are putting someone else down.”

—

“And lastly, she wants to feel special, you know, the best compliments include a comparison, for example, tell her how she is prettier than other women!”

Rodrick was hastily writing everything down.

“Thank you so much, I owe you!”

“No problem”

—

While you forgot about Gregs weird behavior as soon as you go back to explaining math, you are reminded of it again later, when he asks you to have your next session at his house, without giving an actual reason.

The weirdness reached its peak when he, shortly after you arrived at his house the next week, excused himself to quote ‘Look for, uh… you know,… a thing? That’s in my room’, then went to the bathroom instead, and ‘coincidentally’ as soon as he left his older brother showed up.

“Heyyy what’s up?” Rodrick mentally revises the list he learned by heart last night.

‘Be an asshole’ he kicks your water bottle that was standing next to you, “Oops…”

“Rodrick what the fu-”

‘Show dominance’

“Pick it up!”

“Excuse me? What is wrong wit-”,

‘Act like you don’t care’

“Quit talking like I care about what you have to say, what was your name again?”

“Wh- We both know that you know my name, what the fu-”,

‘Compliment her looks’

“You’re hot!”

And lastly, ‘Make her feel special by comparing her to other women’

“Especially compared to the other girls at school”.

A perfect delivery. He did everything that Greg told him to do. But why did you seem so angry? You looked like you were ready to swing at him.

That’s when he saw it. His shitty little brother was watching the interaction through the slightly opened bathroom door, holding a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. When he catches Rodricks eye he slams the door shut.

“I’m gonna kill you!” He is sprinting towards the room his brother is hiding in, banging his fists against the door.

“What the fuck is going on?” You haven’t been so confused in a long time. That’s when it clicked for you too. That’s why Greg was acting so weird, that’s why he asked about YOUR dating preferences specifically. He asked for advice for Rodrick but must have messed with his brother, based on the older ones reaction.

“Rodrick, were you trying to hit on me?” Your voice is heavily laced with disbelief.

The boy stopped his obnoxious assault on the door.

“Did it work?”

You barely hold in your laugh. “Sure.”

“Wait really?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

Your smile is kinder now, finding this side of Rodrick, where he is eager to appeal to you, really endearing. Shit, are your feelings for him coming back? You definitely were completely over your crush before, so how did he so easily wrap you around his finger again?

“I would have never guessed that you out of all people were into me, you know, after the little stunt you pulled a while ago.”

“What do you mean?” Rodrick is confused, when did he do something that made you believe that he wasn’t interested in you?

“Our tutoring session? When you completely disrespected me by not even listening to me after you were the one to ask for help.”

“I was listening to you! It's just hard to concentrate when you are so… you! And your voice is so…” Wow he just has this way with words “And I didn't intend for it to be actually studying when I ask you. I just wanted an excuse to hang out with you, maybe impress you a bit, my band being the impressive part by the way, and then later ask you out on a date.” He scratches the back of his head sheepishly.

“And this little scene that played out just now, I guess that was Gregs doing?”

“Yes, since it didn’t work out the last two times I tried to get you to go out with me, I thought this was the best way to do it.”

Oh, your crush was definitely back, and bigger than ever at that.

“Well you never actually asked me out, maybe that would have been enough.”

“Really?”

“I don’t know, guess you have to ask to find out.”

[thecommunityfridge]

Building Blocks

CW: Ageplay, diapers, wetting, messing, assisted messing, bondage, light physical peril

"Baby, you know how you've been begging me to let you have a normal night out with your friends? To be a big girl for just one evening?" Greg asked as he walked into Willow's nursery.

Willow's eyes got wide as she started bouncing in excitement on soggy padding of her diaper from her seat in her crib.

"Yeth, Daddy! Me 'member!" the 32-year-old medical technician lisped out from behind her pacifier.

Willow and Greg had been dating for four years now. They had met on an alternative dating site and had been drawn to each other based on their common kinks. Specifically, Greg was a long time Daddy Dom, while Willow had always wanted to be kept and treated as someone's diapered little girl.

Their relationship started out slow, as all relationships do, with their dynamic developing as they began to trust each other. Simple rules, like Willow not being able to use the restroom without Greg's permission, evolved to diapered dates, and, eventually to the full Daddy Dom/Little dynamic Willow and Greg currently had once they moved in together two years ago.

Willow had very few complaints about their relationship. Greg was an excellent Daddy, loving, caring, and usually fair with his rules and punishments. She loved the feel of his gentle touch as he changed her diaper. She loved his soft caress as he fed her a bottle and rocked her to sleep every night. She even loved the hot sting of his paddle when he occasionally spanked her for being bratty. But, she did miss one thing: spending time as an adult outside of work.

In the two years that Willow and Greg had been living together, she had only been able to go out with her friends a handful of times. It wasn't that Greg kept her from going out, but he knew she liked to earn her freedom and was more than willing to make Willow work for her rewards. Once a month, Greg would set up a challenge for Willow to complete to earn a night out with her friends. Unfortunately, Willow was having a much more difficult time meeting these challenges lately.

But today, today was different! It was a new month and a new challenge. Willow was more than ready to rise to the occasion and earn her time out partying with her friends, free of Greg's oversight.

Willow's enthusiastic bouncing slowed as she saw a predatory grin bloom on her Daddy's face. She could tell from that grin alone, this month's challenge was going to be difficult.

"What a good memory you have, my Little Lolo! You're such a cute little smarty pants!" Greg said as he approached her crib and opened it's side. "But, do your remember what you need to do if you really want big girl time?" Greg asked.

Willow blushed as she lisped her response, "Earns it, Dada?"

"That's right, baby girl! You're right again! Big girl time is EARNED in this house. I was thinking today would be a great day to let you earn it!"

Greg lifted his small, adult girlfriend out of her crib and carried her over to the nearby changing table as he spoke.

"First, let's get you a dry bottom though!"

Willow squirmed on the changing table as her boyfriend unsnapped her onesie, undid the tapes of her soaked diaper, and began wiping her clean. Despite Greg having done this hundreds if not thousands of times before, it always felt just a little bit more humiliating when he changed her while she was trying to earn her way to big girl time.

After wiping Willow clean, removing her wet diaper, and sliding a clean one underneath her cute little tushy, Greg grabbed a suspicious white bottle as he spoke again. "To earn big girl time this month, Little Lolo, I was thinking you could prove to me how good you are at holding your potty while you complete a big girl task!" Greg then unscrewed the child proof top of the bottle he was holding, grabbed a large pill out, and dipped it in a jar of Vaseline. Willow's eyes went wide with understanding as Greg's hand them moved for her exposed backside.

"Dada! No! Me good girl! Me make stinkies! No need special medicine!" Willow frantically yelled out, spitting her pacifier out to be more clear as she hoped beyond hope that she could stop Greg short of shoving the dreaded suppository in her.

Greg's predatory grin grew wider at his girlfriend's hurried protests. "Oh, Baby Lolo, this isn't to help you make stinkies! It's to help prove you can hold your stinkies in like a big girl."

Willow gasped as Greg slid the large, lube covered pill inside of her.

"Now hold it," Greg said, giving his girlfriend a stern look as he waited to see if she would try and push it back out. Willow didn't respond audibly. Instead, she complied, clenching her bottom to hold in the awful medicine.

After a few moments without any noticable activity from Willow's rear end, Greg let a smile touch his lips again. "Good girl, Lolo! You might earn your big girl time yet."

Willow felt a blush bloom across her face at those words as Greg finished taping her into a fresh diaper. Thankfully, Willow thought, Greg ignored her blushiness as he lifted her off of the changing table and carried her on his hip to their living room. What she saw there, she wasn't expecting.

Sitting in the center of their well decorated living room were three huge plastic tubs full of multi-colored wooden blocks. The blocks were of various shapes and sizes, and, while none of them were huge, they were definitely large enough to keep a baby or other small child from choking on them. In fact, while it was hard to tell for certain from Willow's vantage point, she could swear a large number of the blocks looked chewed on. Willow's stomach churned a little looking at the tubs of baby blocks, although she couldn't say whether it was out of fear of her pending test or the laxative working it's magic in her bowels.

"Um, Daddy, what dohs tings?" Willow asked as she reflexively started sucking her thumb out of nervousness.

"Isn't it obvious, baby girl? Those are building blocks! Their the next part of your challenge!" Greg said as he set Willow down on her feet next to the childish blocks. He then, strangely, grabbed a tape measure off of a nearby end table. "Stand big and tall for me, Little Lolo!"

Not knowing the game yet and not wanting to fail before even learning the rules, Willow did as she was told. She stood up as tall as possible, even getting on her tip-toes a little bit to increase her height. Greg wasn't going to cheat her out of her adult time for being too short!

Greg smiled as he read off the final number, "5'3 3/8"! Baby, is it just me or have you grown?"

Willow smiled. She'd measured a whole inch taller than she had at her last trip to the doctor's office. She was amazed at Daddy letting her get away with so blatantly extending her height.

"Alright, not-so-Little Lolo, are you ready for your big girl challenge?" Greg asked.

Willow responded by nodding her head up and down enthusiastically, once again nearly vibrating with excitement. She did choose to ignore another angry rumble from her stomach as her Daddy laid out of the rules of the game that could earn Willow her temporary freedom.

"Well, Little One, you can see the blocks. You also know about the special tummy medicine Daddy gave you," Greg began. "Today's challenge is one of building, creativity, and self control. I want you to use your new blocks there to create a *giant* tower that's even bigger than you!"

Willow internally groaned. That's why Greg hadn't cared that she had cheated. She had only made her job more difficult. However, that didn't matter. Willow wasn't an architectural genius, but even she could create a tower of wooden blocks taller than 5' 3 3/8"! Willow's stomach grumbled ominously again.

"Of course, just building a tall tower wouldn't prove that you're a big girl though," Greg said as he walked over and pulled open the drawer of an end table. "Any cute little baby could do that! No, there are some extra restrictions. First, you probably already guessed it, but you need to finish your tower before you create a poo-poo Picasso in your cute little diapy."

Willow audibly groaned this time. She'd be lying if she said she didn't expect the bowel movement time limit, it was one of Greg's favorite elements in these challenges, but she could already feel herself struggling to keep her padded pants clean.

"But, that would be too easy too, and you wouldn't enjoy your adult time if you didn't *really* have to work for it, right?" Willow's Daddy continued, causing Willow to nervously swallow as she looked at the item in his hands. "While you are *trying* to prove that you are a big girl, you aren't one yet. You're still a baby. And babies don't stand and walk: They crawl."

Willow's eyes went wide as Greg unfurled the hobble restraints in his clutches.

"This will make sure you stay on all fours! Don't worry, I'll lift our normal rules and let you climb on the furniture. Now, get down on all fours so I can get this on you, and you can get started!"

Willow complied with her Daddy's orders, knowing from experience that there was no point in protesting. If she wanted any chance of a girl's night out free of diapers and Greg's supervision, she would have to follow his rules. Instead of dwelling on the unfairness of it all, she focused on the best way to quickly create her toy block masterpiece.

"All done! Now get to work! Your tummy timer stops for no one!" Greg said, sending the crawling Willow off with a playful swat on her padded rump.

Willow immediately made as fast of a b-line for the tubs as possible, drastically slowed down by the restraints tying her wrists to each other and her ankles. Once at the tubs, Willow quickly switched from all fours, to a seated position. She grabbed one tub with both hands and scooted it, as well as her diapered bottom, across the floor and as close to the sturdy coffee table nearby as possible before dumping the tub over, spilling it's contents on the ground. She then repeated the process two more times before finally settling in to begin building her tower.

Slowly and carefully, Willow began laying blocks out to build the base of her tower. Knowing the importance of a strong base, the first foot of her tower was made with large blocks stacked together to be as sturdy as possible.

As Willow continued to work on her tower, the suppository her Daddy slipped into her continued to work on her insides. By the time her tower was a foot and a half tall, the grumbling in her stomach was beginning to turn to light cramping. Undeterred, Willow forged ahead, ignoring her discomfort and determined to earn the night out she craved.

Willow's tower continued to grow steadily as the minutes ticked by. A foot and a half was soon two feet. Two feet became two and a half feet. Before she knew it, Willow was halfway there, despite having to make some yoga-like maneuvers to stack the blocks higher due to the hobble tied to each of her limbs and the growing discomfort in her bowels.

Two and a half feet proved to be a tricky height. At that point, Willow found that no matter how she positioned her body, she just couldn't quite reach the top of the tower from her position on the ground. Willow was not going to let that stop her. She had planned for this.

With sweat beading on her forehead from the strain of keeping her rear-end in check, Willow began moving as many block as possible from the floor to the coffee table. Then, as delicately as possible, she climbed onto the coffee table herself in her forced, crawling posture. For a moment, as she awkwardly pulled her right knee up on to the table, Willow almost lost her battle with her bowels due to the strange position, but, thankfully, found herself able to power through the discomfort.

Once safely on the table, Willow began diligently stacking the blocks higher and higher again. Two and a half feet became three then three and a half, and then four. However, with each new block stacked, Willow found her task becoming more and more difficult.

The cramping in her stomach was becoming nearly unbearable. All Willow really wanted to do was release a brown, stinky mess into the back of her diaper and end this torment. Making matters worse, as the tower got higher, it became more and more difficult to place new blocks with her hobbles still restricting her every movement. Sweat was dripping down every part of Willow's body as she took a break at the four and a half foot mark to sit back and admire her building block masterpiece.

"Little Lolo! Your tower looks wonderful! I'm so proud of you! Have you made a stinky yet?" Came Greg's voice from behind her. Before Willow could deny having messed herself, she felt the waistband of her diaper being pulled back behind her. "Nope! Still clean! Good girl! Maybe you *will* earn some big girl time this month!"

A blush radiated up Willow's body at being talked down to and checked like a baby, but, another, more severe cramp rocked her body, letting her know she didn't have much time to finish her creation. With renewed vigor, she crawled back to work.

Her tower was now too tall to reach the top of even from her crouched position on the coffee table. Looking around the room for something she could use to crawl higher, Willow's eyes fell on the couch's cushions. Carefully, and ignoring her boyfriend's giggles at her awkward crawl, Willow grabbed the cushions off the couch and stacked them on the coffee table before climbing on top of them herself and extending her reach.

Willow ignored Greg's giggles again as, when she reached the top of her impromptu scaffolding, a loud fart trumpeted from her backside.

"Careful my cute, little architect! I wouldn't want your pretty little tushy to blast you off your little ladder!" Greg said, stepping closer to better position himself in case his girlfriend did actually fall from her wobbly perch.

Willow glared back at Greg before turning back to her construction project. She appreciated him keeping her safe, but could do without the unnecessary commentary.

Despite the wobbly and precarious nature of her couch-cushion perch, Willow quickly found that her method to get higher was working. Before long her tower was five feet tall, just a few blocks away from completion. Unfortunately for Willow though, the cramps she had been fighting all morning had intensified to the point where she knew she was only moments away from disaster. Worse, Willow once again found that she couldn't easily reach the top of the tower to place new blocks.

Knowing that she didn't have time to increase the height of her scaffolding, Willow threw caution to the wind. Grabbing her last two blocks, she did her best to balance on her bent legs on top of the highest couch cushion like a bird, with the hobble still restricting her movement. As quickly and delicately as she could, she started to lean forward into her tower as she attempted to place her last two blocks.

Noting the danger inherent in his girlfriend's desperate maneuver, Greg's daddy instincts kicked in and he quickly repositioned himself on the opposite side of Willow's impressive tower to catch her if she fell. Willow, too focused to be aware of her Daddy's repositioning, reached up and out as far as she could, desperately trying to finish her tower without falling or knocking it over.

However, just as the tip of the first block reached the top of her tower, Willow's body finally overcame her. A painful pressure in Willow's gut forced her to bend at the waist.

Already on the edge of disaster, the sudden movement immediately caused the diapered woman to lose her balance and fall forward directly into her nearly finished tower. The pain, sudden movement, surprise, and fear all worked against Willow, causing her to release her aching bowels into her diaper as she tumbled forward. Like the her falling blocks, Willow could feel her hope of getting a night out this month cascade to the floor with her.

Willow closed her eyes as the ground drew closer. In the short few moments as she fell, she hoped and prayed that her padded and messy backside would protect her in a way that she couldn't with her tied up hands and feet when she hit the ground.

Luckily for Willow, Greg was ready for her unfortunate and literal fall from grace. Leaping into action just as his love lost her balance, he lunged forward and caught his precious baby girl before she hit the floor. Willow opened her eyes as she felt Greg's strong arms wrap around her, protecting her from landing on the large pile of blocks that were once her tower, lying on the floor beneath them.

"Daddy?" Willow said hesitantly as she gazed up at Greg with doe eyes.

"Uh huh, Little Lolo. Daddy's got you. Daddy will always have you!" Greg said as he pulled Willow closer into his chest. He then wrinkled his nose as he noticed a noxious smell in the air. Looking from the ground and back to the woman in his arms, he spoke again, "Well, it smells like somebody didn't earn her big girl time. That's alright, we'll try again next month. Now, why don't we go get you changed before we clean up this mess."

Willow snuggled into Greg's chest as he cradled her like an actual baby in his arms and carried her back to her nursery. Willow was upset that she had lost her girl's night out this month, but, as Greg held her, she couldn't help but think that maybe another night at home with Daddy wouldn't be so bad either.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

hiii i just found your blog, I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE, and if i can request like an angsty story about house and wilson with reader, and the reader has like some disease that'll kill her😭😭😭😭😭im just craving angst

YOU ARE SO SWEET THANK YOU 💞💞 it's been awhile since I've written a good angst fic so this is perfect for me

Your Last Breath (Greg House x gn reader x James Wilson)

Warnings: talk of hospitals/medical procedures, reader has a mystery illness that kills them, they/them pronouns used a few times to refer to the reader in a gender neutral way, hurt/no comfort, heavy angst, main character death (spoiler: it's you)

The doctors had been trying for months to figure out what was wrong with you. Months of invasive tests, months of going back and forth with possible explanations, months of being put on temporary treatments that seemed to work for a short while before you eventually succumbed to whatever was causing your problems again.

Everyone was stumped, and by everyone I truly do mean everyone. Not even House could figure out what was wrong, something that frustrated him to no end for multiple reasons. And by the time he was finally able to figure out what the cause was, it was already too late.

The disease had progressed too far along on its course for the doctors to be able to treat it properly. The best they could do was make you comfortable for the few weeks you had left to live.

Usually he liked having cases he couldn't crack, he liked figuring out the puzzle of what was bothering his patient, he liked being able to go to Cuddy and say "I told you so" when it ended up him being right and everyone else was wrong. But not this time.

This time all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and die. If only. He'd gladly give up both of his legs if it meant you'd get better.

Meanwhile, the resident head of oncology wasn't taking the news very well, either. It was normal for House to shut himself away for extended periods of time, but not Wilson. He barely left his office anymore, not to check on his own patients, not to accept a request for a consult, nothing. In fact, the only time he ever did leave was to visit you.

Most nights were spent with either him or House at your side, checking your vitals and fetching whatever it was that you needed. You ended up having to beg the both of them to go home at some point, even if it was to just shower and change, but they still refused, choosing to stay at the hospital instead.

Occasionally one of the ducklings would stop by if either of them couldn't for some reason, whether that be due to another patient needing attention or because you finally convinced them to take a break for once.

Foreman was solemn, talking about arrangements that could possibly be made for your body after death if you hadn't decided already. Cameron was sympathetic, reassuring you that they'd make sure you wouldn't be in any pain during your last days on earth. Chase was playful, trying to take your mind off things by cracking a joke or two. And Cuddy was surprisingly very nurturing when she managed to make the time to check in on you.

The whole thing was very bittersweet. While you appreciated everyone caring so much about you, it hurt to know why they were doing it.

Your final day was surprisingly quiet, with no nurses stopping by to check on you every hour or so like they had been for the past couple of weeks where you'd been bedridden almost completely. You suspected someone had requested for that, so you could have a bit of peace in the last few hours you'd be alive for.

House stood at the foot of your bed, watching as you slept. He looked like he was about to say something when Wilson suddenly spoke up from the armchair beside your bed.

"Don't even think about it, House. You're not waking them up right now."

Despite Wilson's firm tone, House couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Oh, come on. It's not like it matters much, they're going to be dead soon anyway."

It took everything in the oncologist not to snap and strangle the man in front of him. The only thing that managed to stop him was the sound of you letting out a hacking cough as you woke up. Even with the oxygen machine, it had become increasingly more difficult for you to breathe.

"Guys, don't fight," you tried to make your tone stern as you lectured them, but your throat was dry and therefore made your voice weak and raspy when you spoke.

"Hey, hey, don't speak, it's alright," Wilson gently reassured you as he reached out to take one of your hands into his. Your skin felt clammy, but he didn't care.

House had a pained look in his eyes as he watched you, but he did his best to cover it up with his usual snark. "We were just talking about you. Trying to figure out who should get your stuff when you die."

Wilson gave him an evil look, but you simply laughed. At least, they thought you laughed. It was kind of hard to tell given how sick you were.

"You guys are funny."

If it were any other time, House would've beamed with pride and joy at being able to make you smile with one of his quips, but this time he just felt empty inside, knowing that it was possibly the last one you'd ever hear. He quietly observed as Wilson helped you drink some water out of a small paper cup, one hand helping you hold it up to your lips while the other rested on your shoulder.

"Thank you," was the only thing you managed to get out once you were done, your breathing stalling yet again when you tried to speak. The three of you knew it was getting close to when it was going to happen. The problem was that only one of you had accepted it, and it wasn't either one of the two doctors who were in the room.

"I love you guys," ended up being your final words, a bittersweet smile on your face and tears in your eyes as you took your last breath. You hoped they knew that you meant that. You hoped they knew that you didn't blame them.

And you hoped that your death helped to bring them closer together rather than tearing them apart. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but who really cared? It's not like you'd be around to witness it anyway.

End notes: I rarely ever finish a request this early so please don't expect this to become a normal thing 😭 I just got really into writing this for some reason and once I started I just couldn't stop

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open

Main masterlist | House MD masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

🏷 taglist: @pigeonmama @caplanreblogsfics

[mysticarts]

silly little Gunntech Au oc

(ft me about to ramble, be ready yall-)

Soo, I've become obsessed with @elmushterri Gunntech Au (context: Gunntech AU is a AU where the show PJ masks is a show for more mature audiences for teens, think owl house!) They also made a video about this, just look up 'What if PJ Masks' and most likely they're video will pop up first!

(Note I'm using they them pronouns for Elmuehterri cause idk their pronouns and I wanna be respectful-)

And I remember from Elmushterri's video, they mentioned Octobella, and how she could be a failed experiment. Now, I belive Gunntech aren't quitters, so I think they'd try again to recreate what Octobella was supposed to be, and actually succeeded. Thus, introducing my oc....

Kailani 'Kai' Whitlock

Now, I made Kailani here like any other of the PJ masks charater's.

Kailani's dad (who I have not named yet) worked for Gunntech. so when Octobella failed, Kailani's dad offered her as a test subject. And since Kailani wanted to get proper attention from her father she didn't mind. Hence the truama that impacted her

Considering Kailani is a octopus, I had to do a lot of studying. I mean, she has to have some Octopus traits. So I do have some, I shall state it in a list

The first thing I did was give Kailani some height, I tried to atleast. Considering how long octopus's tentacles are, I imagine in replacement, it really long arms and legs, hence her height

2. I Made Kailani colorblind! Octopuses are color blind to, but make up for it with their color changing bodies, odd pupils, color sensing arms, so I'm Applying that to Kailani. Kailani did see color before she was taken in as a test subject, then she became colorblind

3. Google states that Octopuses usually live in tropical areas so I made Kailani born in Hawaii! (She moved though when she was born)

4. From studying, I have found out that Octopuses have three hearts. I don't know if that should be applied to Kailani or not. I'm just going with that her heart is just bigger than most others, so Kailani can be a little more athletic than her peers.

5. Due to the experiments, Kailani's blood is blue (yes, Octopuses actually have blue blood) because of this, Kailani never tries to get hurt. She dosent want to make her dad angry

(Here's a concept sketch of younger Kailani during her test subject days)

as for Personality, I made Kailani very shy. Sure, she's extremely smart for her age, not to mention very creative. Mention something Kailani likes and she'll be willing to yap about it hours on end. However, she has extremely strong loyalty, all she wants is to be accepted and actually loved, so if helping Gunntech means she can earn her father's love, she'll put all of her energy for Gunntech

As how she works for Gunntech, I imagine they call on Kailani if they need someone to be held down or need help moving things (considering with Octopuses strength they can lift more than 700 pounds)

but, when not being a person who could fight someone off, I imagine they'd use Kailani as a strategist. Octopuses are actually very smart, and considering the human mind plus Octopus traits, Kailani would be making or hashing out ideas or theories to take down the 'villans' not realizing she's working for the bad guy.

Anyway, here's her concept suit design

Now I shall relax before I have to suffer at school tomorrow

Edit: I forgot to mention this, but I made Kailani have the hugest crush on Greg (she hasn't made a move cause she's too shy)

Now, if you guys have questions or want to know more about Kailani, I'm glad to give you answers!

[balteredsworld]

negotiations. gregory house

🥼🩺 | house would rather fight you, but negotiates a date to a gala for a truce.

masterlist : greg house n all

tags/warnings! house being house, lawyer!reader, drugs, not enemies per say but there's def something there, reader is stacy's apprentice of sorts | gifs by @propertyofjameswilson

author's note: this was one of the first requests i got in my inbox! i accidentally deleted it omg but i hope this finds you <3 lemme know what you guys think!

"if this is an ethical boards issue, file the report over there," you spoke, eyes never leaving the monitor screen.

you already knew it was house from the way a constant thud crept its way to your office. that, and you could see his figure from your peripheral, so really you didn't need to look up.

"it's adorable that you automatically know it's me," he noted, obviously humoured. "if i didn't know better, i would've pegged you down as a secret admirer."

still, that didn't inspire much of a reaction from you other than a short glance. the two of you have been veering on this lane since you replaced stacy seven months ago. you were much colder than she was, and so much less accommodating to his devious needs.

house often wondered how stacy even took a liking to you, but then again she was also ruthless when he first met her. by that logic, you didn't fall from the tree. you were your mentor's very picture, but oh were you much icier. it was annoying, but he liked drilling you.

unfortunately for him, you were several inches thick. so he considered you worse than cuddy in that regard. at least she entertained his whims, but you... you didn't care nor bat an eye.

you said all the appropriate, correct and right things.

"well?"

"i need you," he admitted ominously.

your brows knitted, "right...?"

a silence broke between the two of you, causing you to finally look up and meet his eyes.

"house, if this is an ethics question, you have cuddy to advise you," you sighed. "i only deal with court and legal processes."

he shook his head. "i need you."

you sent him another worrisome look, before finally giving in. "what for?"

"tonight's the gala. i need a date."

:..don't you have hookers for that? i'm sure they would like the pay," you told him, voice and tone slow, still unsure what the gimmick was with this request.

if you had learned one thing in your seven months here at princeton was that everything involving house was some sort of mind game. you'd dealt with him enough times to know that, and seen him through three excruciating court appearances because the man couldn't and wouldn't shut up.

house was stupid in the way he was careless.

he plopped himself on your client chairs, hands wrapping the knob of his cane like he was considering some great philosophy or debate in his mind, surely one about the manmade idea of a god.

"hmm, good point. hookers do have their perks-less backtalk, more enthusiasm," he hummed, pretending to think, brows raising as he offered the explanation to his request. "but, hey, i figured slumming it with you might be an interesting change of pace."

despite his nonchalant closing of the question, he was still there. the proposition hung heavy in the your silence, piercing through the airy creak of the floorboards from the wobble of his cane.

you cocked your brow, asking, "so you want me to be your entertainment?"

at that house scrunched his face.

"entertainment? that's putting it generous," he remarked, looking at you with incredulous eyes as he leaned on the chair's backrest to take a vicodin. "i was thinking more like a reluctant accomplice in a dull evening. but who knows, you might surprise me."

he wanted you to bite. if you were cameron, then maybe you would've then and there, and entertain house's wild fantasy of taking you to the gala to stir up hospital gossip. but you still didn't know the caveat to your compliance, not to mention the sea of paperwork you'd been made to deal with due to his merry malpractice.

it was like this every other week, somehow piling larger because you had to justify house's forgeries on paper.

"well, i'm flattered at your proposal, but alas i'm swamped from your court hearing last week," you straightened up, gesturing to the piles and piles of folders and legal binders littering your desk. "i have you to thank for that i believe."

your dry remark elicited an impatient huff from house, all but crass and lax about administrative affairs of his hospital job.

"the perks of my charming personality. you're welcome for the excitement," he told you, leaning back toward you to flick through the papers on your desk.

"what's the gimmick?"

"no gimmicks. just you and me surviving the god awful gala, and you can have tickets to whatever show you want. what do you say?"

he looked at you innocently.

"there's always a gimmick with you, house. it makes your puzzle for your team to figure out. so what's the puzzle here?" you query, locking your hands together.

more than anything, this was negotiation. anything was negotiable with house: rules, conduct... the law.

anything was remotely subjective was up for his objective debate, all to prop himself up with more advantage to do whatever he wants in the hospital. even though he makes up for it with his rightness, it's made up more work for you

"you on my arm; i need to quiet down cuddy," he finally reveals, pursing his lips. "she's antsy about our squashbuckling. personally think it's great pr, but mommy says otherwise."

you let out a breath, considering the argument. he was right, of course. the times the two of you went to court, you looked like you could barely control your client even with your stern voice and threats. your threats were empty in house's books. so long as he proved himself on principle, consequences were an afterthought to him.

his integrity made him a man easy to admire, but he would rather ruffle your feathers to see how far you'd go. it infuriated and vexed you. but, if this was really a chance to call an armistice, then his proposition was more than an attractive offer.

"okay," you agreed.

house bobbed his head, appeased with your agreement, "great."

"but i don't want tickets."

he edged his head, encouraging you to go on. eyes wary, nonetheless.

"i want the next case without a pile of files for me to review."

a beat.

he blinked.

then he uncontrollably laughed. the fucker laughed.

"that's cute, y/l/n," he chortled, sinking into the backrest completely. he was smug, face dancing with amusement and disbelief like you believed he could really do that.

"let's see, you want me to diagnose a complex medical case discarding my process and adhere to standard protocol. wow that's really cute."

"well, fine then. appease cuddy another way," you waved him off, letting your eyes fall to your monitor to go back to work.

sensing this, house groaned a sigh, exchanging his previous amusement for your veering annoyance. he took his fingers and massaged the bridge of his nose.

"alright, you want a break from my malpractice masterpieces? fine. i'll keep it clean the next time. but if i manage to save a life without a single piece of paper, you owe me more than the gala."

you stared back at him, mildly bewildered, "are you asking me out on a date, house?"

"my diagnostic powers deserve more than a gala."

so it was a yes, then. part of you wanted to beam, but that would betray your icy façade. so instead you settled for cool nod, won by the whole proposal. you knew he wouldn't resist a challenge if you posed one, and if it meant less work for you, then you'd let house take you out.

house also owed you more than a date after the last seven months of putting up with his shit.

"wear a nice suit," you accepted, weathering a ghost of a smile. "pick me up at my apartment at 8."

[chicago-pd-is-weird]

Hank Voight x Fem!Reader - Pt. 1

Request for @maximeseveridecasey - I hope you like it! Part 2 coming soon.

Synopsis: Reader is a bartender at Molly's with a boyfriend who is bad news. Hank Voight is investigating the case, but soon becomes smitten with her.

TW: Reader is victim of abuse

You were tending the bar at 2PM on a Friday. You weren’t sure why the bar was open that early, seeing as the only customers you had were the old men and day drinkers who had nothing better to do. Herman, however, seemed convinced that it was bringing in enough revenue. You didn’t mind, so long as you got a paycheck. You were saving money so you could leave Chicago, and moreover, leave your boyfriend.

It was getting hard to hide the bruises from Herman, Otis, and Gabby. You often wore long sleeves despite it being summertime, and the makeup had on often sweat off in the middle of rush hour, revealing the bruises on your neck and face. If anyone asked, you quickly made up an excuse and changed the subject.

Your thoughts were broken by the little bell ringing as the door opened. A man in his mid-fifties walked in and looked around. You figured it was another day drinker, or one of those people who stopped in because they were meeting up with someone. Nevertheless, you walked over as he sat at the bar. “Hey there, what can I get you?” You smiled.

He hummed, looking you over, then set something on the bar. “Guess.” He pulled his hand away, leaving a badge in its wake.

You looked at him when you heard his unique voice. He sounded like he smoked eight packs a day, yet he didn’t smell like smoke. You glanced at the badge, then sighed, turning and grabbing two shot glasses, putting one in front of him, and one in front of you. Then, you grabbed your liquor of choice and poured two shots. “On the house.” You took your glass and held it up. The man seemed intrigued, but matched you, clinking your glasses together before you both took a shot. “What can I do for you, sergeant?”

He laughed, looking at you as he set the glass back down. “Do you know me or something?”

You shook your head, putting one finger on the star still sitting on the bar. “It says so on your badge. Dead giveaway. Should’ve used someone else’s.” You shrugged and took care of the glasses and liquor before leaning down on the counter, a cocked eyebrow. “What do you need?”

“Do you know Gregory Sanders?”

You stopped at the name of your boyfriend. You sighed deeply, standing straight again and grabbing a cloth to wipe off the bar. It wasn’t dirty, but you wanted to busy yourself. “I don’t think you’d be here if I didn’t.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“You still haven’t introduced yourself, Sergeant.”

A corner of his mouth pulled him to smile. “Hank Voight.”

“(Y/N) (L/N),” you replied, not looking up as you obsessively found something to do with your hands.

“So, tell me about Greg.”

“What do you want to know?”

Hank watched you struggle to find something to do, seemingly amused. “What does he do for work?”

You scoffed. Considering your boyfriend was a full-time gun dealer, it almost made you laugh. “Nothing. I bring the paychecks.”

“Yeah? That might be true to an extent, but you should see his bank statements.”

“I have nothing to do with that.”

“That’s not what I asked… Besides, it’s not you I want. But I could arrest you and bring you in for drinking on the job.”

You scoffed again, rolling your eyes and leaning down on the bar again to look into his eyes. “You could. But you can’t charge me with anything. Go ahead, I’m sure my bosses will be ecstatic that I have to close the bar because of you. Just make sure your house doesn’t catch on fire anytime soon if you do take me in.”

“Right, because this is the firefighter bar?” Hank hummed. “I know those firefighters. I’m sure I could smooth things over.”

“You said your name is… Voight?” You laughed softly when he nodded. “I doubt that. They kind of hate you.”

Hank matched your amusement, chuckling as he pulled a card out of his jacket. “Maybe that’s true too. You’re pretty smart, I’ll give you that.” He slid the card over to you on the bar, then grabbed his badge and clipped it back to his belt. “Find me if you feel like talking.”

With that, he got up and left the bar. You looked down at the card, which was his business card. Taking it, you put it in your jeans pocket just as someone else came up to the bar. You looked up, but frowned when you saw it was Greg himself. You walked over and grabbed his beer of choice. You hated it when he drank, since his tab usually came out of your paycheck. You set it in front of him after opening it. “Hey baby,” you said softly. “What’s going on?”

“Who was that?” He asked. “Travis told me a cop was here.”

“Yeah he was a cop,” you replied with a shrug. “A lot of cops hang out at this bar. It’s owned by firefighters. First responders are all a club.”

“A sergeant?”

You scoffed. “So? Just means he’s allowed to day drink more than the foot patrols.”

He grabbed your arm, squeezing it tightly, right where he had left bruises previously. You gasped and let out a small yelp in pain but couldn’t escape his strong grip. “Shit, that hurts, Greg,” you whispered as your body contorted in an effort to escape him.

“What the hell did you tell him?”

“Nothing, I swear! He came in, asked about you, and I told him I have nothing to do with whatever you do on a daily basis. That I work to support us both!”

Greg squeezed harder, then finally let go, making you recoil and rub your aching arm. You bit your lip as tears brimmed your eyes.

“You better not talk to the cops. You know what will happen.”

“I know,” you whispered.

Greg took a deep swig of his beer before getting up and leaving, Travis leaving with him. You sighed, grabbing the still-full beer and swigging some yourself before putting it below the counter to drink later.

—

When work got out, things really ramped up at the bar. You got busy. Greg didn’t hang out when the bar was busy, because there were so many cops around. You started to sweat again, especially due to the long sleeve and pants you were wearing, rolling up your sleeves to reveal the fresh bruises in an attempt to cool yourself. Nevertheless, your makeup betrayed you and once again showed off the bruises on your neck and your cheeks. You wanted to get to the bathroom to touch it up, but not before Sylvie and Stella caught you. The two looked you over with a frown.

“(Y/N), who does this to you?” Sylvie asked.

“Nobody,” you replied quickly. “I’m just clumsy, you know?” You quickly poured them another shot of whatever they were drinking.

“Come on, (Y/N), there’s twenty cops in this bar who would be happy to help you,” Stella protested.

You sighed and shook your head. “Stella, Sylvie, I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine.”

“Whoever you’re protecting isn’t worth it if they do this to you. They won’t hurt you if you tell us,” Stella protested.

You scoffed. Of course, Greg would hurt you if he ever found out. He would probably kill you. You shook your head and walked away from them to tend to someone else at the bar.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Erin said with a smile as she walked up with Jay. You knew the two pretty well, as they were there with the normal crowd most nights.

“Hey Erin, Jay,” you nodded to each of them. “What’s the choice tonight?”

“Just beer,” Jay said with a smile.

“Coming right up.” You grabbed two beers and popped them open, setting them in front of the two. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Actually,” Erin said, reaching out to take your hand. She didn’t want to touch your bruises, so she pulled you gently by the hand to come closer. “You okay?”

You sighed. “Yes, I’m fine. We have this conversation a lot, don’t we?”

“You have new bruises a lot,” Jay replied softly. “We’re just making sure you’re alright.”

“I’m clumsy,” you said with a shrug. “Besides, one of your cop buddies came around today.”

“Yeah?” Erin asked.

“A sergeant,” you replied. “Voight, I think was his name. I guess he’s investigating someone. Thought I had something to do with it. Threatened to arrest me, too.”

Jay and Erin looked at one another, then Jay swigged his beer. Erin hummed and looked back at you. “Voight is our boss. He’s the guy who practically raised me.”

You took a sharp breath. You’d just wanted to change the subject. Now you didn’t want to talk at all. “Sorry I said anything,” you said softly. “I don’t want to get in the way of your investigation.”

“(Y/N), we’re investigating Greg Sanders. You were identified as someone on his contacts list.”

You sighed. “Like I told Voight, he’s my boyfriend, but I don’t have anything to do with whatever he does. All I know is I work when the bar is open, and sleep most of the other time. Greg comes home sometimes to get his… fill. We have sex, I fall asleep then get up for work. That’s it.”

Jay looked up at you. He had those puppy dog eyes that could make the hardest person melt in an instant. “We think he’s pretty rough with you, considering the bruises. We just want to help you, especially if you don’t have anything to do with his… dealings.”

You shrugged and turned away as someone else came up to the bar, letting the conversation end there. You got busy again, filling and re-filling drinks, running and paying tabs, and keeping it as clean as possible.

.

When the bar finally closed for the night, you swept the floor and made sure everything was clean for the next day. It was Saturday, your day off. Christopher walked out from the back, handing you an envelope. You opened it and counted out enough to cover the tab your boyfriend had run up that week, which had been more than half of your paycheck. You sighed as you handed it to him. “For Greg’s tab.”

“You know, he should pay for his own drinks,” Chris said softly. “Is there a reason you’re still with this guy?”

You shrugged as you continued to sweep the floor. You knew he’d kill you if you ever broke up with him. That’s why you had to leave Chicago. You knew this week’s paycheck wouldn’t contribute much to your sad savings for the trip away. You had barely $100 saved up and you’d been saving for three months.

Chris sighed. He tried multiple times, like many others, to reach you. You simply wanted to leave Chicago and go somewhere nobody could find you. “Alright, just let me know if you need anything. All I’m saying is you deserve better.”

—

The next day, you woke up in the afternoon, due to being up until last call. What really annoyed you, though, was an obsessive knocking at your front door. You groaned and threw on some clothes, yelling down to the door. “I’m coming, I’m coming!” You rolled your eyes and muttered under your breath a curse at whoever was on the other side of the door. When you finally opened it, you were shocked to see Travis, who pushed himself past you and inside. “Travis? What the hell is going on?”

“(Y/N), it’s not my fault, I swear it.”

“What? What’s not?”

“There’s a cop and he’s pissed.”

“What cop? Where?” You looked back to the door, which was still open, seeing Hank Voight standing on your porch now. You hadn’t seen him before because of Travis’s frantic nature. “Sergeant Voight, what’s going on?”

Voight pushed into the house with you, shutting the door behind him. “You’re both going to come with me. Either we can do this quietly, or I can bring three squads down and make a big show of it with the cuffs.”

Your eyes landed on Travis. “What the hell did you do? Does Greg know?”

“It’s not my fault! He threatened me!”

You scoffed and looked back to Voight. “I know my rights.”

“That’s the wrong answer, (Y/N). I’m trying to help you.”

“I don’t need your damn help or anybody’s. I’m not going anywhere, so go ahead and drag me out in cuffs. I’d like to see the warrant for my arrest.”

Voight looked you over, then turned his gaze to Travis. “Come on, big boy.”

“I-I didn’t do anything! I brought you here! What more do you want from me, man?!”

“You have a warrant, Travis. Failure to appear in court for your weed possession.” Voight walked over and grabbed Travis, pushing him against the wall with his hands behind his back. “I’m taking you to the station and booking you.”

You rolled your eyes. “What’s the deal, Voight? Cops always make a deal when they try to threaten people with petty things like this. Especially when they’re of your rank and position.”

“Deal is, you both come quietly, or I force you both with me.”

“Why?” You crossed your arms. You hadn’t realized it until then, but you were wearing a short sleeve shirt and a pair of shorts, which showed off all of the bruises on your body. You also didn’t have any makeup on.

Voight brought Travis over, then leaned in to very quietly whisper in your ear. “There’s bugs all over your house. Can’t talk here.”

You let out a breath. “Cameras too,” you muttered before recoiling away from him. “You’re going to have to arrest me, then!”

“So be it,” Voight said with a nod, then took out a radio to call for squad backup. He put cuffs on Travis and led you out to the front porch with him. A single squad came for backup, the two cops taking Travis and cuffing you. Voight put you in his own car, the others taking Travis in theirs.

As you rode with Voight, you looked up at him from the back. “What is this?”

“I know he hurts you,” Voight said. “Erin and Jay are concerned. They wanted me to get you out of there. From the looks of your body, I’m glad I did.”

You blushed, suddenly feeling exposed as you tried to cover yourself, which was impossible due to your cuffs and choice of clothing. “I’ve never told anyone what he does. They don’t know what's going on.”

Voight sighed, glancing to the rear-view mirror. “Plus, your boyfriend is a felon. Drug running across state lines? I’ve heard that he even took a few loads to Canada.”

“Look, I don’t have anything to do with what he spends his time doing.”

“That’s why I have to protect you. For all he knows, you were arrested. In reality, you’re in protective custody until I put the cuffs on him and put him away for life.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, right… If you really wanted to help me, you’d get me out of the state instead.”

Voight didn’t say anything back, driving you to the district as you looked out the window, wishing you could just start over.

--

2 Weeks Later

--

You were put into protective custody by Hank and the others. Erin often came to check up on you, sometimes with Jay. You always brushed it off and made snide remarks, but it was only because you were afraid he would find you. You were confined to a safehouse on the outskirts of the city for over two weeks before a firm knock came to your door. It wasn't Erin, seeing as she usually brought her key and knocked softly. You were terrified, grabbing a knife from the kitchen and trying to peek through the front window. You could tell it was a man by the way he was standing and the firmness of the knock. You couldn't see his face, though, and that terrified you. You took a breath and positioned yourself behind the door, holding the knife up, then unlocking it and opening it, peeking around to stab whoever may have walked through.

His reflexes were faster than yours. He grabbed your wrist which was holding the knife, but his voice made you stop when you began to struggle. "(Y/N), (Y/N), hey, it's just me, it's Hank."

You let out a breath, dropping the knife as you trembled. You pulled your hand away, panting as your adrenaline pumped. "I-I'm sorry, I thought you were-"

"Don't worry about it," he replied. "I didn't mean to scare you." He gently laid a hand on your shoulder, then pulled you a little closer to him. It was subconscious, but you followed him without protest. He shut the front door and led you to the small sofa, sitting beside you and rubbing your back to calm you, one hand on your knee.

You looked down. Again, you'd been wearing shorts due to the heat of the Chicago summer. Your skin looked much better, still pale, but at least the bruises were fading. You gently set one hand on top of his on your knee. You looked up at him as you finally calmed down. "Why are you here?"

"I came to tell you that you're safe now," he said softly, still rubbing your back with his free hand. "I put Greg in jail, along with everyone in his crew."

You looked into Hank's eyes. The chocolate orbs surrounded you, comforting you. You couldn't quite explain it, but they made your soul feel warm, like how hot chocolate feels on a cold winter's night. You blinked once, then looked down. Tears welled in your eyes. "Is it... really over? He won't get me if I leave here?"

"That's right," Hank replied. "He won't." You took a breath, nodding as the tears threatened to spill. Hank gently reached his hand up to cup your chin with his fingers, making you look up at him. "Hey, don't worry. I said I'd protect you and I still mean it."

You smiled softly, looking over his face. He was an attractive man, something you hadn't quite noticed until then. He matched your smile, bringing his other hand up to stroke a piece of hair from your face. "Let's get dinner to celebrate. Tonight."

You blushed. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, then I'll help you move your bags from here to wherever you want to go. I hope you're not still planning on leaving Chicago."

You hiked your shoulders, sighing softly. "I don't know anymore. I just want to start over and put all of this behind me."

"I'll set you up in my guest room."

.

Suffice to say, you didn't spend the night in the guest room. The spark you and Hank had over dinner was enough to light an entire forest on fire all at once. You found that you came from similar backgrounds, born and raised in Chicago. You even went to the same school, albeit you were several years younger than him at the time. When Hank got you to his house, the night ended with some bourbon and a lot of gentle kisses. You weren't drunk by any means and Hank had taken his sweet time with you. He made you feel truly loved for the first time in your life. After years of abuse, Hank's love was refreshing.

--

The morning came all too soon when Hank's alarm went off at 5:45. You whimpered softly, Hank groaning and rolling over to shut it off, leaving you cold for a moment before he came back to embrace you. You hummed as you pressed backward into him, loving how his strong arms wrapped you up. He chuckled softly, pressing kisses to your neck as he rubbed your waist. "Good morning," he muttered into your skin.

"It is with you holding me," you replied softly, smiling. The time you'd spent with Hank was some of the best time you'd ever had on Earth. He made you happy.

"Mmn, too bad I have to get to work," he said softly.

"You have some time, don't you?" you asked, turning around in his arms. "Work doesn't start until eight."

"Yeah, but I have ComStat at seven in the Ivory Tower. The life of a Sergeant." He shrugged, nuzzling his nose softly against yours with a gentle smile.

You matched his smile, even giggling a little. You pushed yourself closer to him, connecting your lips with his in a gentle kiss. The passion and love flowed from both of you as he pulled your waist closer.

"Mmn, I think it's going to be a good day, seeing as I'm waking up like this," Hank said, one hand reaching up to cup your face, stroking his thumb over the apple of your cheek.

"I think so too," you replied, still smiling, wider and brighter than ever as you rubbed his chest.

[aauroraxia]

Supposed To Be

Armando Aretas

This story is based off of a song called Begin Again by Taylor Swift ^^. For a better experience I highly recommend you listen to the song 🎧!

Sypnosis: Y/N just got out of a toxic relationship with ex named Greg. She finally decided to start dating again. On her first date with her new boyfriend, Armando she has many flashbacks of her past relationship. Armando shows her how love is supposed to be, and not all love is toxic.

Warnings: None

I took a deep breath in the mirror, doing a little twirl. I looked perfect, my tight red dress, hugged my curves. My curly hair curled perfectly around my face. My black high heels made me a little taller than I actually was, but I don’t care, I think I look perfect and I hope he thinks the same.

I was finally dating again. After breaking up with Greg, I was scared of dating. Until I met Armando. He told me that he didn’t know my ex or what he did for us to break up, but, that he was nothing like him, he’s one of a kind.

One of my friends had offered to take me to the restaurant I walked out of my house grabbing my phone, purse, and keys, and walked to the car. As I sat in the passenger seat I started thinking.. ‘Remember what happened last time you went on a date’

Flash Back Start 𖣔

I arrived to the cafe that Greg asked me to meet him at. I looked in the mirror in my car, fixing my hair. I wanted everything to be perfect.

I walked inside the cafe, glancing around looking for Greg. He was nowhere to be found. I started panicking, thoughts flooded my mind.

‘He couldn’t be standing me up’

‘He wouldnt’

‘Would he?’

The waiter sat me at a table. I caught a few weird glances from other couples. I pulled my phone out of my purse, checking the time constantly, and maybe to see if Greg texted. After about 25 minutes, he hadn’t called or texted.

Tears flooded my eyes. I put my phone away and gathered my things. It’s time to go home.

As soon as I stood up I heard the cafe bell ring. I turned around to see Greg walking in the shop. His brown hair, messy. He had on a blue button up shirt that wasn’t even buttoned completely.

Had he even tried to look nice? Was this “date” really not that important? I balled my fist up, sitting back down in my seat, waiting for him to walk over.

He sat in front of me in silence. No ‘Hey, I’m sorry for being late.’ No stupid excuse. Just silence.

Flash Back Ends 𖣔

I shoved that memory deep down in my mind, or at least I tried. I started my car and drove to restaurant I was meeting Armando at.

I walked in the restaurant, hoping Armando was already here. And he was. He waved me over to the table he was sitting at. Walking over to him, he looked at me with a small but genuine smile. He stood up and pulled out my chair for me.

That was so nice! I sat down across from him, locking eyes with him. He wouldn’t take his eyes off of me.

Flash Back Start 𖣔

The rest of the date went pretty well. Greg told me this lame excuse of how he couldn’t get a stain out of shirt, that’s why he was late. He asked me how was my day and after I answered him he explained how his day went.

While explaining my day I made a small joke. I guess he didn’t think I was funny because he just stared at me, with a blank unreadable expression on his face.

Embarrassing…

I quickly changed the topic to work, to avoid any further embarrassment.

“Hey, I think you look really pretty tonight, but um I’m not that much taller than you and you wearing heels makes you taller than me.. I don’t like the look so if we’re supposed to be together could you stop wearing heels?”

The audacity..

It’s not my fault that he’s shorter than Peter Pan. But this date already started rocky so I just smiled and nodded.

Flash Back Ends 𖣔

“Te ves hermosa. Ese vestido y esos tacones te hacen ver muy sexy.” Armando said.

I smiled at his sweetness. I knew he wasn’t much of a talker but he was putting in a effort to talk, and that’s all I needed.

“How are you?” He asked

“Good, what about you. Apart from being hunted from the police.” I joked

He leaned his head back, laughing. Last time I told a small joke I was hella embarrassed. But that wasn’t the case this time, thankfully.

Soon, a waiter came and took our order, we ate and talked about any and everything. He even payed for both of our meals. Damn, he couldn’t be any more perfect.

He offered to take me home and I agreed. “Any specific song you want to listen to?”

I started thinking.. “Can you play ‘Fuck It I Love You’ by Lana Del Rey.

“Yeah”

Flash Back Start 𖣔

When Greg invited me to his apartment, on the way there I asked him to play that same song. “What does the song even mean. It’s boring and sad. How about something else.”

I looked at him in utter disbelief. Did he really not understand the meaning? Once again I just smiled and nodded.

Flash Back End 𖣔

“Sorry if you don’t like this song.” I said “I know it’s supposedly sad.”

“Nah, it’s not sad. It’s real.” He assured me.

Oh my gosh I think I love him.

Once arriving at my house Armando walked me to my front door. Like he was protecting me.

I loved that. It made me feel like I would never have to worry about my safety with him.

“Como te dije antes, no conozco a tu ex ni lo que hizo para que rompieras con él, pero nunca te lastimaré amor.”

I smiled, placing both of my hands on his shoulders, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. Once I pulled away, he softly cuffed my cheeks, pulling me into a passionate but loving kiss.

“Sure you don’t wanna come in?” I asked him with a playful smirk.

“Quizás lo haga” He said with a smirk, locking his car, and following me inside.

I don’t know how far this “relationship” with Armando would go but, I do know this is how love is supposed to be.

Translations:

“Quizás lo haga” - Maybe I will

“Como te dije antes, no conozco a tu ex ni lo que hizo para que rompieras con él, pero nunca te lastimaré amor.” - Like I told you before, I don't know your ex or what he did to make you break up with him, but I will never hurt you, love.

“Te ves hermosa. Ese vestido y esos tacones te hacen ver muy sexy.” - You look beautiful. That dress and those heels make you look very sexy.

[michelle-is-writing]

Surprise, Surprise, Greg House

Word Count: 1.1k~

Surprising Greg at work is always fun. Most of the time, he's messing around with the items on his desk until I walk in which ultimately causes him to perk up right away. I'm always happy to see him, and going by the smile that pops up on his face when he first sees me, Greg is happy to see me too. Plus, it always helps that we've been together for several years too.

"House, you have a guest," Wilson states, quickly popping his head into the doorway of Greg's office before popping right back out. Watching him walk back to the elevators, I wave at Wilson before opening Greg's door.

"Surprising," I hear Greg mindlessly mutter before I walk in. Once he sees me, he lightly smiles and changes his words. "Not surprising," He corrects himself, sitting up in his chair. "But pleasant."

"I brought you lunch," I tell him, gesturing to the bag in my hand with a smile. Placing the paper bag on his desk, I sit down in the chair across from him with his desk separating us. "That way you don't have to steal anyone else's."

"You know me so well," Greg chides, placing the magazine in his hands down before opening the bag of food. Taking all of the contents out of the bag reveals two sandwiches and two bags of chips with a bottled drink for each one. "Funny," He notes. "These are the things I would have stolen from Wilson."

Laughing at his sad, yet true comment, I separate everything out and place a Reuben sandwich in front of each of us, Greg already digging into one of the yellow bags of potato chips. "I'm glad I got to come see you today," I confess, the sight of the food making me feel a little sick. "I have some... great news to share."

"Oh, really?" Greg asks, looking up at me. I nod, smiling as he pushes his chair back a little. "Well, then why don't you come over here and tell me all about it?" He suggests with that ever so sly smirk.

Knowing what that means, I gently roll my eyes and stand from my chair before walking over to Greg and sitting on his lap. Instantly, he wraps his arms around me and holds me close, leaning up a little to kiss my lips. This is one of the very few ways Greg shows his love. He always says it's because he gets to hold me closer to him, but I think it's just because I'm sitting on his lap.

"You know," he begins his sentence, nibbling at my neck. "With one simple movement, you instantly have me at your will. How odd is that?" Greg questions me, his voice sultry and low. Smiling at him, I lightly giggle before pushing him away enough so he can look straight at me.

"Greg, I need to tell you something," I state, my voice a bit serious. Even though I'm trying to keep a straight voice without letting my excitement show through, I keep my smile in hopes of him not getting worried. I hope this news finds him well, and it doesn't make him mad or angry... I don't know what I would do if he left me because of it.

Leaning back in his swivel chair to look at me, he continues smiling while running his hand up and down my side. "Go on," he encourages me, his blue eyes staring into mine. "I'm listening, my sweet."

My cheeks slightly blush at the endearment before I look away, sudden nervousness hitting me. "I'm, uh, I'm..." Just as I begin to speak, I choke up before sighing. "I'm pregnant, Greg," I fully answer him, having the guts to look him straight in the eye as I do so.

He takes a moment to listen to me, only to fully realize what I'm saying within seconds. In shock, he stares at me with wide eyes before breaking out into a nervous chuckle. "You're serious, right?" He asks, making my eyebrows furrow. My reaction causes him to become worried as his smile drops. "Please don't be joking," Greg begs, placing his hands on my arms.

His words slightly... befuddle me. Is the cold and emotionless House actually excited about me being pregnant? For him to question me to make sure I'm not joking makes me... I don't know what it makes me actually.

Does Greg want a child? I know we didnt plan this little one, but there's no going back now. I mean, Greg is quite a few years older than me and I would've never thought he'd want a kid this late in life, but Gregory House is Gregory House. If there's one thing that signifies Gregory House, it's that he's weird and unusual, and he never conforms to what is socially acceptable.

"No, I'm not joking, Greg," I tell him, placing his hands on my stomach. "There's a little baby right here," With Greg staring up at me with big eyes and an equally big smile, tears quickly make their way to my eyes. "You're going to be a father," I whisper, leaning forward and placing my forehead against his.

A few moments of silence pass before Greg grins and wraps his arms tighter around me. In a quick turn of events, he stands up with our feet planted on the ground and his arms still around me, a giggle falling from my lips as he does so. Before I know it, Greg is moving my shirt up to place his hands on my barely swollen tummy, resting them there as I hug him to me as well. “Thank you,” He murmurs, smiling before connecting our lips in another kiss. At the same time, he moves his hands to my waist to hold me there, his hold reflecting the passion behind our kiss.

[corruptedcaps]

Clumsy Me

“It’s a super kind gesture Greg but are you sure there are no other pairs of pants I can wear? Not that I’m not grateful but skin tight leggings aren’t really my style. Plus I know your stepmom Madison ran out on you and your dad like a year ago but she’d kill me if she saw me in a pair of her slick black pants. You’re right beggars can’t be choosers put this is just until my own jeans dry in your machine ok? Still can’t believe I tripped like that, did you always have that foot stool there? Whatever, just give me a minute to change.”

“Well what do you think? You hate it right? Wait you like it? I guess it is kind of nice, it makes my figure kind of pop doesn’t it? I never thought I’d have the body to pull off anything like this. Can’t believe I’m the same size as you step mom too. Could never wear some of the things she has in there though. All that luxurious fur, expensive jewelry, and those plunging necklines, I could never! Oh whoops I’m so clumsy today, I’ve gone and spilled the second drink you got me on my top. I’ll just sneak back into your step mom’s closet and find something to wear.”

“There we go, now I’m all dry and warm, despite this new top not covering my navel. When I put it on I realized that something was missing and somehow I knew this belt would tie everything together. I feel so stylish, like one of those bougy bitches at school. Do you think if I wore this to school tomorrow they would notice? I promise I’ll bring it all back after school tomorrow. Thanks!”

“I know I know I said I would bring the clothes back and I have but I just had to borrow some others. My outfit was a big hit with Cassandra and all her friends, they said I showed real promise! Can you believe that? Only last week they were picking on me. But if I show up tomorrow wearing my usual drab unfashionable outfits they’ll start bullying me again. Plus don’t I look kind of hot in this new combo? I’ve never worn such high boots before or such a short skirt. It’s hard to explain but the clothes just kind of call to me and each piece I choose just makes sense. I never had an eye for fashion before but these clothes are bringing the inner designer out in me and I can’t deny the results!”

“Hey there handsome, I need to get a new outfit for tomorrow. The girls were in awe yet again. They were right too, I do look better without my glasses. My head is swimming with ideas of what to wear, it was all I could think of last night. What do you mean no? Greg you don’t understand, I need to keep up appearances otherwise I’m toast! Plus your stepmom isn’t around anymore! Still no huh? Well that’s a shame, because you know what else I was thinking last night? I was thinking how if I have to come over everyday to change then you and I should have some fun too. Don’t be coy, I’ve seen how you’ve been looking at me. Look how about you see the lingerie I borrowed, see wouldn’t you like to see me in more?”

“How did I get in here? I made a copy of your key, duh! If I’m going to be your girlfriend I need to be able to get inside your house when you’re not here. Aren’t you glad I did, like look at this new outfit I put together, all the girls are going to be green with envy when they see me. One of them was telling me that Cassandra was starting to feel threatened by my style, that she thinks I’m going to take over the clique! Can you believe that? Me?! It is kind of hot to think of though, me taking over a group of girls who used to bully me and taking down the head bitch herself. Mmmm it’s got me kind of wet, how about you be a good boyfriend and get our knees for me. There’s a reason why I’m wearing a skirt after all.”

“You’re breaking up with me? Why? I have not become a bully! Cassandra was the biggest bitch in our school, I just took her down several pegs. In front of the whole school. While she cried. Sure I made all her old friends block her on socials and refuse to talk to her ever again but she deserved it and now that all her friends are mine now I can run the school how it should be. If that means some of life’s losers get bullied then so be it, they don’t deserve my pity or yours. Come on baby I’m offering you the chance to become king, don’t let your morals get in the way of having me as your queen. Fine if that’s how you feel then fuck you loser, you small dicked prick. I only was with you to get access to you stepmom’s clothes, but I don’t need them or you! So long dork!”

“Oh it’s you creep. Surprised to see me in your house? Well I had every intention of never seeing you again but I was wrong about what I said last week. What? About you? Don’t be stupid, I meant about the clothes. I do NEED them! I bought some hawt clothes of my own but it just wasn’t the same. They weren’t expensive and slutty enough. I was feeling my confidence and power draining over the past few days but now that I’m back in Madison’s clothes I’m feeling more me again. Her bitchy perfume still lingers in their fabric and it’s makes me feel so bad! Your dad let me in and said I should just take whatever I wanted. He was just so accommodating after I put on Madison’s tightest clothes and gave him the best blowjob of his life. He said I should come back everyday and I fully intend on doing so.”

“Mmm your father was right, blonde does make me look older, more mature, more sexy. Wasn’t Madison a blonde? Why am I even asking you, it will only distract you from cooking. To think a few months ago I was giving you the best handjobs of your life so I could have access to Madison’s clothes and now I’m your dad’s fiancée and all the clothes are mine! You could have had me you know? You could have had this perfect ass but you were worried I had become a bully or some nonsense. Your father loves what a bitch I am and encourages me to be a mean spoilt brat by letting me buy whatever I want. Having access to his money allowed me to buy the clothes I deserved! That’s why I love him unconditionally. It certainly helps he’s so well hung, something you never inherited. Speaking of which I think I just heard him come in, I think he and I can slip in a quickie while you cook. Stay if you want to watch perv.”

“Don’t look at me worm, just keep scrubbing the floors. Your father and I want this place spotless when we return from our honeymoon but before we leave I just wanted to tell you a secret. I’m pregnant. I have no doubt it will be a girl and I’m going to raise her to be the biggest, meanest slut there even has been. She’ll have everything her cruel heart desires and I’m going to spoil her rotten. She’ll have my fashion sense of course and your father’s ruthless business acumen. What do you think of Maddy for her name, short for Madison? She’ll be such a wicked princess, and you? Well you’ll be here cleaning the floors everyday for the rest of your life. On that note… oooops I’ve spilled my drink all over your clean floor. I guess I’m just so clumsy.”