#-and nothing to worry about. What else can they want?“

[pomegranate-theater]

Hello 👋 hope you are well!

I just wanted to know if, by any chance, you will be making another part of " what yandere them do (to you) after catching you in the act of masturbating." For other hsr men? ( Especially for Aventurine? I'm a big sucker for him >.< )

➤𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒖𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 — what yandere them do (to you) after catching you in the act of masturbating. [part one with other characters]

aventurine, mydei, anaxa, argenti.

contents: afab reader, dub-con/non-con, yandere, forced relationship, masturbation, coercion, rough sex, aphrodisiacs, condescending talk, one thigh slap, fingering, squirting, oral—reader receiving. not suitable for minors.

note: i hope you are well too!

AVENTURINE

That spacious penthouse of Aventurine’s, somehow, did nothing to muffle the sounds of the vibrations of your fancy electric toothbrush that you have sneaked into your room — purchased by no one else by Aventurine, along flossers, making sure your dental hygiene stays on top even in the enclosed environment. Or maybe, you were so paranoid your hearing was overly sensitized.

You’ll have to replace the head of the toothbrush once you’re done with torturing your clit — doing the latter through the panties as the friction of the toothbrush’s hair scared you — but your only concern at the moment was not getting caught by the gambler. Should you have chosen to touch yourself while he’s at work, you’d have not so much worry; however, you were so pent up from stress today you couldn’t do anything else than keep the toothbrush under the blanket.

A device so expensive, how come was it so loud? It was getting hot too, you were scared it’d explode, as the motor being pressed too hard couldn’t rotate with its furious speed freely. Once it grew scorching in its temperature, you suddenly threw it away on the wooden floor, your heart beating like crazy from the fact you could have gotten seriously burned. Unfortunately, not only was the impact loud, the toothbrush was now able to release volume as it pleased; soon to expose your naughty behavior.

You were right, as a few moments later, the door was opened by no other than Aventurine himself. He picked up the toothbrush and turned it off before you could get up and hide it. “Friend, if I have known you were so desperate, I would have bought you a real vibrator… not force to you use an impromptu version,” he teased, despite the surprise (and his own arousal) at having witnessed the proof of you masturbating.

You, speechless, had your own brain fried by the sudden confrontation. You were well aware how easily Aventurine was capable of turning gained knowledge into his power against you, so your panic wasn’t even about your oppressor knowing you were doing what every other human does.

“Doesn’t it hurt and all?” he teased again.

“Give it back, Aventurine!” you demanded, both embarrassed and petrified.

“Nah, you need to relax, friend. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about… and that toothbrush needs to be replaced, anyway,” he shrugged off and threw the cleaning tool into your desk bin. “So overpriced if so loud for how much money I’ve spent on it… you’ve allowed me to find out.”

“Now,” he approached, not letting you to mourn your toothbrush’s loss for too long, “It seems you need a bit of help, don’t you?”

You crawled back on bed, nervous about his attention. “I… don’t, leave me alone, Aventurine.”

“Oh, come on, don’t be so shy.”

Suddenly, you were being pinned down under him, your wrists above your head — he has had enough to learn you’d fight him too much, a stubborn thing you were.

“I can give you something much better, you know,” he said, drawing his voice to be a perfect, smooth tone — one that got you going involuntarily to you. The juxtaposition of what your mind said and body wanted left you frozen in spot.

“I mean, as long as you ask, of course,” he added, his tone innocent, but you knew better. Even if his offer is not something you wanted, asking him would be proving against that; therefore painting you as a person who wanted this so you could never accuse him of anything. He was a sly and intelligent bastard, who knew how to play his cards against you… and your lately desperate body.

“N-no… I don’t want anything from you, so get off of me!” you protested, and fell quiet when he ground his crotch against yours. His bulge was hard already, and it stimulated your still puffed clit perfectly. You whimpered, and he with one hand still holding yours, slipped his other one under your underwear to circle on your clit. “S-stop…” you cried out.

“Come on, it’s so easy to say ‘please’, isn’t it?” he said seductively. His finger, while it pleased your bundle of nerves, it pleasured this way too slowly to be satisfying — on purpose. And you couldn’t last being denied anymore.

“Please,” you choked out quietly; regardless of the volume, enough for a man like him to accuse you as guilty. “See?” his voice darkened, as he sped up the ministrations. “All you need to do is ask.” As if it was ever that easy with him.

MYDEI

Mydeimos was considered one of most good looking people in Amphoreus for a reason. That stupid, meaty, strong body; with a handsome face and beautiful hair. Out of all he could have, ironically, it was the most unwilling person that he wanted — you. And you believed yourself to be most immune to him, fueled by rage and hate towards him for keeping you with him against your will for “protection purposes”.

Or so you have used to. Because recently, his body was the only thing on your mind; the obsession made to be worse when he held you against him, whether it was at day or night as he was bare-chested anyway. Not that you’d let him know — if he didn’t notice already, that is.

You were a victim of your own desires, desires towards him, whether they were out of genuine attraction or forced attachment — as now, you were driving his hairbrush’s handle into yourself. It wasn’t even comfortable to use, the rough edges almost hurt, but you couldn’t find anything better. It’s not as if you could casually ask Mydei to buy a sex toy.

The position of your self-sex was awkward too — you were on your fours, arching your arm behind your pussy to thrust the brush inside; in resemblance of a sex position as a feigned sex. Your arm hurt, the pleasure wasn’t even that good, so you could only grow in your frustration.

“What a ridiculous thing did you come up with?” a rough voice scared you, and you froze from dread. Mydei has caught you not only masturbating, but also doing this with his hairbrush. There was not a single way you could explain yourself.

Staying like this was humiliating and yet, pulling it out the hairbrush in front of him would be humiliating too; so you remained an ice sculpture. It had to be Mydei to take the next step, himself very flustered by the shocking discovery, and take out the handle from your pussy; now wet with your juices. The brush was thrown somewhere on the floor; however, as you tried to get up, his hand kept you pinned in the position.

“M-Mydei?” you asked in anxiety, worried by the prolonged exposure he chose to keep you in. Your stomach dropped when you heard the shuffling sound of his pants being pulled down.

Mydei didn’t acknowledge yours words — instead, he said something worrying, “If I had known how bad is your pull towards me, I would have spared you of this misery a long time ago.” He assumed you must have needed him if it was his item you used on yourself.

You weren’t given much time to comprehend the implication; only could scream as he suddenly filled you up with something much bigger, warmer and better — his cock. Your upper body fell downward, and your knees you stayed on trembled as he started to roughly fuck you from behind — finally relieving both you, and himself who’s been waiting for you for months.

“Mydei!” you gasped as he deepened his thrusts. Everything has happened so fast, too fast, you now could only focus on the quickly arising pleasure.

“Please forgive me for the delay,” he grunted, his hands holding onto your hips with a bruising force. “I should have known I don’t even need to ask you, only act and fuck you.”

“But don’t worry,” he leaned over your body, the heavy weight holding you down, and licked your neck, “We will catch up with what we have missed.” The promise was made, and you wouldn’t have much mercy for the rest of the night.

ANAXA

Something has been wrong with your body for days counted. Hot, irritated, throbbing feeling between your legs followed you every moment. You believed you had a fever, at first, especially with how dizzy you were; but you found out you were feeling much better when giving yourself a sexual relief. Albeit, the comfort was only momentarily, before it’d grow to pesky levels in just few hours, keeping the cycle on the loop.

Today was no different — pumping fingers into your relaxed and incredibly wet pussy, not given any respite from arousal, with occasional intrusion of thoughts about Anaxa to help you reach ecstasy faster. It was only when you were out of this mad state that you’d care about the consequences of letting this man rule your body and mind — when in heat like this, you could only imagine his gentle hands, taunting tone, and him scolding you for being so naughty.

“Anaxagoras, don’t tease me…” you mewled out for yourself and the fantasy you’ve created, barely capable of pronouncing a longer name. “I can’t… it’s too much…!”

“I can see that,” he replied, and you fingered yourself much harder. “Then…” you pleaded, and then you were silent, and then you realized it wasn’t your delirious brain. However, you could only look up at him with a limp motion, not as startled by his presence as you should be — the result of your feverish state.

“You… shouldn’t,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, too dumb.

“I shouldn’t enter your room when you are so busy, you meant to say? But dear, the door was never closed in the first place, so it’s as if you were suggesting I should come inside and witness this debauchery for myself…” he informed, the untroubled voice making you somehow more aroused.

You shook your head, still using your fingers, no matter if with more hesitation — you were too deep into your crisis to even consider stopping. “I didn’t… I forgot… please, I can’t…”

“Such an impotent thing you’ve become. Can’t do anything, not without my help…” he sighed, as if dealing with a lost cause of a scholar only he could smarten up.

Your stomach and pussy fluttered when he approached, and you shamelessly spread your legs for him to find a spot between. “Truly indecorous,” he scolded, and you moaned.

“Is that what can feed this wanton creature?” he inquired, almost coldly, as he shoved out your fingers and re-filled your pussy with his own — two, not thrusting but rubbing a spot with fingertips.

“Ah!” you yelled, as he hit a point unknown to you, one you thought of as unreachable, and something big was approaching— much, much more terrible than a typical orgasm.

“No, stop, something’s wrong!” you cried out, trying to shut your legs; but he slapped your thigh. “Let it go. Only then we’ll think of better ways of treating your ailments,” he ordered.

As your orgasm hit you, it arrived with a splash of liquids, staining you, him, and the bed. The screams didn’t cover the sloshing sound, and you fell into spasms as you were coming down.

“Seems I was right. The aphrodisiac works wonderfully. You’ve given me enough material for a research in how I can punish that disobedient thing you’ve been becoming lately.”

“The downside is you can’t rest easily until I fuck the product out of you, but that could be interpreted as a benefit itself, hm?”

You could have only shudder as he started to unclothe himself.

ARGENTI

Humping your own hand while the other held Argenti’s blanket smelling like roses for sure didn’t make you feel any good about your own conscience. You could never let this man know that you were using an everyday item of his to pleasure yourself, especially after your latest fits of anger at him that would expose your fraudulent perception of him.

You felt patronized, overly coddled and like a child when living with him — how can a man who has forced you to be with him could be so gentle, contradictory to the cruelty behind the capture? And yet, same gentleness oftentimes spoke to you against your will, making you feel loved and appreciated, which translated into physical desire.

“My beautiful rose, I am back!” the handsome voice announced, opening the door to your small house you were currently staying at. Unfortunately, the arrangement of the cottage didn’t really have separate spaces, so he’d see you on the floor from the inside immediately. You both became stunned: you — at his return much earlier than promised, him — at your current predicament.

“Is that… my blanket?” he inquired with a nervous tone.

Your mouth opened and it closed, with you having nothing to defend yourself with. As tears of humiliation build up in your precious eyes, Argenti was quick to step forward with an apologetic smile. “No, no, it’s alright. I’m not mad at you.” He wiped your tears and kissed your cheek. As he did, you noticed how aroused he himself was when his elated breath hit your skin.

“Except, you should allow me to relieve you of your torment I can see in you.” Your eyes bulged in surprise, and before you could oppose his words, Argenti was helping you up, and he settled himself down between your legs. Being on his knees for you and not Idrila herself caused a hesitation within him accusing him of treason; until he excused himself by telling himself he saw you two differently.

“Argenti, what are you—“ “Ssh. As I’ve said, it’s alright,” he reassured, and was lapping at your still wet pussy. Your hand found purchase in his red hair, tugging, as you tried to fight the sudden sensation.

“Wait—“ But your protest were left l only for the air to hear, as he pleasured you diligently.

“I cannot help but be thankful for this opportunity,” he murmured against your thigh his hand gently stroked. Unstripped of his armor suit for the time when he’s been venturing outside, he looked more beautiful than ever. “Furthermore, I see myself as ashamed of being so… immodest in my behavior, craving you like this…” he said, self-deprecating himself, “I hope you can forgive me and see my actions as a worship instead.”

“Just… shut up, Argenti,” you scolded, and humped his face. He moaned, drinking from you eagerly, and his gentle hands fondled soft flesh of your behind.

“Anything you ask for, beloved,” he promised, an oath he’d never break, before his tongue slipped into your hole, ultimately silencing him.

[eraserbread]

your older boyfriend, nanami, has a sneaking suspicion you like arguing with him.

➽─────────────────────────────❥

it always starts with something stupid, him denying you a new purse you wanted, or him telling you no when you asked to come to his house. he gave you a good reason, he was tired, and you were too rowdy.

this time, he didn't come visit you when you were in the office on your internship.

nanami was innocent - caught in hours of meetings that didn't align with your work schedule. He texted you a quick apology that night, but you were seething.

it's like he's ashamed of you -- too used to you.

and that's what you tell him when you crawl into his jet-black car the following night.

"if you hate me, just say it." you pout, slamming his passenger door and not bothering with your seatbelt as you sink into the cool leather.

"what are you talking about?" though you're mad, he still plants a hand against the top of your thigh, squeezing the flesh in his way of telling you hello. "I don't hate you."

"you never come visit me at work anymore. and you hardly fucking work, I mean there's nothing that important that you completely forget about me, is there?!"

"god, here we go again..." he mutters absolutely devoid of emotion. he'll let you rant all your feelings out to him, he'll yell back a little bit, then he'll fuck you stupid and sorry... it's just the way things play out with you two. "I didn't forget about you."

you're ranting with your hands, staring into the side of his stoic face as he drives calmly. it's like your anger is lost on him, or perhaps you weren't really angry -- why isn't he cracking..?

"you son of a bitch, you never listen to me!" you're squealing, stamping your foot, and crossing your arms when he just... keeps on driving.

then, he's turning back home and you're left in a scowl staring out of the window. literally all he had to say to soften the mood was I'm sorry, but he wasn't sorry. there was nothing to be sorry for, and you knew he preferred to keep the relationship work-appropriate at work. carving out time between meetings to visit you is not work-appropriate, so he's not sorry. oh well.

so if you wanted to spout baseless reasons to hate him all the way to his front door, he'd listen and take it. until, that door locks and he's rolling his shoulders and pulling his tie loose.

"just, shut up about it."

"s-shut..?" you reply, shocked by the choice of words he's never given you before. every other time you poked at his nerves, he'd just roll his eyes and give you what you wanted.

tonight, instead of giving in, he has you on your hands and knees in front of him, gagged between the teeth with his spotted tie.

he's fucking you hard in his bed, keeping you pressed in doggy as he guides you back with each of his thrusts. his big hand is tangled in his tie, loose digits twisted in your hair so he has those nerve-endings hostage as well. it's a sensory overload, from the sound of his grating voice, to the feeling of your inescapable whines against the gag. it was all just so erotic.

"listen to that -- sweet silence," he grunts in unison with his thrusts. he's got you pierced so stupid and pliable on his cock, that you weren't even worried about anything else. all you can focus on is the sensation of his thick length stretching you to the hilt, springing tears to your eyes as you try and take all of it.

nanami hates it when you run from his cock, it just makes him fuck you harder. but, he was unraveling inside of you, hanging on by the grace of god and slivers of self-control

so when you slide your spent knees further up the bed, trying to free your body from the dirty punishment, he has all the more reason to pull out, slapping a strong hand over your puffy cunt and hooking two fingers inside your hole. he's got his fingers crooked at that perfect angle to coax exactly what he wants from you.

you fingers claw at anything they can grab, sick whiny cries dampening the tie between your teeth as you cum for the third time, sobbing in relief when you feel his hot, thick seed drip down your spent cunt as he unravels in succession.

"so mean... t'me..." you manage to breathe out, shuddering in a limp pile of mess on his bed. nanami steps away like an artist admiring his work, brushing some of your taste from his lips to suck back between his lips.

"whatever you say." he mumbles, sliding his tie from your skin, but disregarding your frame further.

he was going to take a shower... you are welcome to join him, but only if you

shut the hell up.

[neeeooon]

Hi :3 can i request reader having a fanfiction account about the bllk men and her fics are really famous and they find out and reader is hella embarrassed

(rin and kaiser and sae and anyone else u want:3)

omg i had an idea like this in my drafts so TY FOR REQUESTING 🩵

when they find your fan account

bf bllk x fem!reader. mainly crack n fluff. slight suggestive

itoshi rin

-> you’ve always liked writing and used to only create little stories for idols and celebrities you admired. when bltv took off, your sights shifted, and you kept your hidden online identity from your boyfriend for as long as possible

-> you’re in the middle of reading comments, giggling to yourself, when rin approaches with coffee and a confused grin. “what’s so funny?”

-> you instinctively move to hide your phone, causing his confusion to grow. when you realize how suspicious you look, you suck in a breath and show him the comments, praying he won’t realize they’re for you

-> unfortunately, you’re dumb (his words). “y/n, you used your full name in your bio. that’s dumb.” “i.. there are plenty of y/n’s in the world!” he isn’t listening anymore as he reads your most recent works, jaw dropping when the name that pops on top isn’t his

-> “you wrote about isagi?” “he was heavily requested! i had to give the fans what they want!” “you wound me. this is the deepest betrayal.” “you know, you’re much more dramatic in person than i give you credit for online.” “?!”

michael kaiser

-> you’re too immersed in your writing to hear your boyfriend approach, and kaiser‘s eyes drag across your screen for several moments before his scoff makes you jump out of your skin

-> “roses4kaiser?” he hums in curiosity, more amused by your entirely beet-red face than what’s on your phone screen. you can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “i didn’t realize you had such a way with words, y/n.”

-> i am going to kms. “words? me? sorry, i have no clue what you’re—“ his smile is soft but so full of mischief that your lie dies on your lips. “um. i, uh… yeah, okay. you got me! i’m a terrible girlfriend.”

-> thankfully that gets him laughing. “for hiding your talent from me, maybe. scoot over, i wanna read what your fans think of me~” “you are such a narcissist..” “i’m not the one writing the fanfiction, love.”

itoshi sae

-> “y/n?” “yes?” “what is saeheartz?” you scramble off the couch over to your boyfriend, who is staring at your laptop, and slam it shut. “sorry, you left your screen open.” “it’s nothing! don’t even worry about it,” you tried to laugh but ended up coughing instead

-> but you can see his fingers moving to open the laptop again and scream. it startles him enough to look back at you with wide eyes. “why are you screaming?” “you’re trying to invade my privacy!” “i’m trying to do my taxes.” “… oh.”

-> you skillfully snatch the laptop from in front of him and close all your tabs. you log into his account and flip the device to face him once again. “there! all set.”

-> he hums a quick thanks and flashes you a brief smile before you catch the dark twinkle in his turquoise eyes. “when i finish, we can discuss all the things you write about doing to me, hm?” you think you might have passed out

[thewritetofreespeech]

Hello, can you do butterflies with Jason Todd and reader girlfriend?

nsfw prompt list - butterflies. our muses doing something new in bed.

-------------------------🦇----------------------------

Jason was sick in the head.

He knew that for a long time about himself. Maybe even before the Pit, but especially after. He’d come back wrong. Or at least not quite right in the head after what happened.

Why else would a man who died burning, then brought back by being submerged in boiling supernatural goo, ask to be burned?

“Ah fuck!” Jason hissed as the wax splattered on his skin. He twisted and writhed while hissing through his teeth, but then settled as his grimace turned into a wild, wide grin. “Not so close babe….”

“Why? Do you think it would hurt?” His girlfriend teased. Holding the candle and it’s flame way too close to his dick.

She knew he wanted it to hurt. Something was wrong with him now where the only time he could truly feel pleasure was with pain. Maybe it was because all he seemed to feel in his life was pain. Maybe something went wrong with his wires getting crossed when he came back. Maybe he should see a shrink.

Don’t get him wrong. Jason loved having regular sex with his girlfriend. It was amazing. She was amazing. But still there was a part of him that craved this from her. This being hurt.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to do it.” She assured him as she moved the candle back from his cock. Jason could literally feel the temperature change around it. “If for nothing else, I need it later.” Jason grinned. A smart remark on his tongue about how she needed him, how she wanted him, but it was snuffed out as she dribbled new wax across his chest. “You’re a sick man Jason Todd.”

“Ah! I know!” His hands gripped the bars of their headboard. He might not be Superman, but he could certainly bend them fair enough even with his mortal man strength. “Fuck me up baby.”

“Fuck you up or fuck you?” Her grin made Jason groan. Even with how foggy his mind was right now, he had the sense to know she was being mean to him.

“Mmmm…both….” Jason lifted his hips up where she was straddling him to rub his hard cock against her inner thigh. “Come on baby. Fuck me up.”

[loveinhawkins]

“What happened to Steve?” Dustin asks.

He’s already shut the door so no-one can overhear, has left everyone else—almost everyone—in the living room. He can make out some sounds in the background: Robin, who’s still talking overly loud, valiantly trying to drown out the noise coming from the bathroom; from Nancy who’s locked herself in there, and the sound of running water only half covers up stifled, sobbing gasps—each one makes Dustin’s stomach drop.

And if he really concentrates, he can hear the quiet creak of Steve pacing in concern, and there, every other step or so, the movement stops abruptly. It’s barely a second before it starts up again, but Dustin knows when Steve’s bracing himself, knows when he’s in pain.

And there are way too many things he can’t solve—Nancy’s hidden, gut-wrenching cries are another unwelcome reminder of that fact.

So he asks again, “What happened to Steve?” because he knows, if nothing else, he can solve this.

Eddie jumps, confirming Dustin’s suspicions that he didn’t hear the question the first time. He’s sat hunched over on his bed, surrounded by scattered piles of tapes from their panicked search earlier. He looks up, blinks a couple times like his mind’s been somewhere else for a long while.

“What happened to—? Uh, why don’t you just ask Steve?”

Because, Dustin thinks, you can’t lie for shit.

He doesn’t say it, but maybe Eddie suspects something, because he mutters, “Sure, sure, okay,” under his breath and clears a spot for Dustin on the bed. He keeps dropping tapes, like his hands are too unsteady to keep a hold of them; there’s a crack in one of the plastic cases already.

Dustin sits, and then Eddie tells him. It’s not like he hadn’t guessed something kinda close to it, but the confirmation is good to have.

“So. Demobats,” Dustin says in summary, because Eddie had trailed off near the end, as if he was reliving the dive into The Upside Down all over again. He cracks a smile at the name, though.

“Cute.”

“And Steve… like, he a rode a bike and everything so he’s…?”

Dustin tries to make his thumbs up look as confident as possible. Eddie nods a little too slowly for his liking, but he’ll take it.

“Yeah, um. Hey, Dustin, does, uh, all of that…” Eddie waves a hand vaguely. “Does that, like, happen a lot? Historically?”

Dustin doesn’t need to ask what he means.

Several memories battle to reach the forefront, but what wins is Steve in the junkyard before anything had even happened, how he whistled, bat in his hands. And Dustin had firmly filed the whole thing under awesome which yeah, it was, and maybe if he keeps thinking about how awesome it was, he won’t have to think about—

“He just—he just needs someone to watch his back.”

It’s almost a non-answer because it’s true of everyone, a Party rule so obvious it goes without saying. Still, Eddie nods again, and when he rearranges the last of the tapes his hands don’t shake.

“That I can do,” Eddie says.

There’s a edge of self-deprecation to the words, like he’s saying it’s one of the few things he’s capable of, and Dustin wants to push back against it because it’s not fair. Eddie’s only at a disadvantage in that it’s like he’s joined a long-running D&D campaign mid-way through, missing pages and pages of notes, and all he’s got time to get is hastily thrown together bullet points.

The creak of Steve’s footsteps suddenly gets louder before there’s a soft knock on the door.

“Everything okay in there?”

“Come on in, Harrington,” Eddie says.

Steve opens the door. “What’re you doing?” he says casually, but Dustin can tell he’d been worried; his eyes flicker around the room as if he’s checking it’s still safe.

“Oh, just getting Henderson to work on his tone.”

A millisecond ago, Dustin had been all for whatever excuse Eddie could come up with. But now…

“My what?”

Steve laughs like this is all very funny. Dustin keeps his eyes sharp even in his indignation, takes note of how Steve holds himself as he leans against the doorway: not relaxed by any stretch, but there’s no longer the awful sense that he’s holding his breath in pain. And the bandages wrapped around him are dry, Dustin double-checks to be sure. It’s not ideal—none of this is—but he can work with it.

Meanwhile, one thing he can’t work with is baseless slander.

“I don’t have a tone, what the hell.”

Eddie heaves a sigh. “That’s exactly what someone with a tone would say.”

Dustin kicks him.

And in the middle of Eddie pretending to be mortally wounded, he sobers abruptly—must notice the same thing just ahead of Dustin, that the water in the bathroom’s stopped running.

Eddie catches Steve’s eye. “Wheeler?” he mouths.

Steve pauses. “She’s okay,” he mouths back, and then mimes with his hand, five minutes, which is absolutely not the whole story, but it’s the one they’re getting for now.

And if she needs some more time, Dustin can find plenty more sources of distraction. What he settles on is a double take that would put Drama Club to shame.

“Wow, Steve, that’s a cool vest, where’d you get it?”

He dodges Eddie’s kick.

“Tone, dickhead,” Steve returns easily, and he grins, glances over to Eddie with a wry shake of the head.

The bathroom door clicks open, and Dustin hears Robin warmly greet Nancy in the living room. Steve looks relieved, pats the doorframe a couple times before he beckons for him to be followed out.

Dustin hesitates the tiniest bit so he can keep an eye on how Steve walks. He turns back to Eddie with one last questioning thumbs up; Eddie, still a little pink in the face, smiles back and gives a reassuring wink.

[unknownogre]

A smile danced over lips moistened by wine as those words tumbled almost clumsily into the air. There was no shortage of shame in those words…shame and respect which was a flavor that a certain creature could never get enough of since It was such a rare combination. Hazel eyes moved to meet the Paladin who spoke, such a noble creature and one he respected a great deal. She did nothing but prove that trust in her was well placed and that she could be counted on when things went south. Nothing but a noble companion…but certainly not the main character of his story.

“Does it hurt to say that?”

The Bard offered with that smirk still dancing over his lips. The Paladin still couldn’t meet his gaze, she was looking to his chin, his neck…his beard…but not his eyes. She never really did like to do that, at least with him. Was he that tempting? He’d like to think so anyway. The journey has been so long…and he couldn’t even wait to pour himself a glass of wine after their victory. The Lord of Darkness was freshly dead off to the side of the throne and the Bard wore his crown half-cocked off to one side. Everyone else was recovering…dealing with the weight that years of work was complete and their lives would be their own once again.

“Honestly it does a little bit.”

The Paladin grumbled her eyes going to the corpse once more. Perhaps she was worried he would just scuttle off again once this was done and she needed to say what she wanted to say now so that her integrity would remain intact. That was an amusing thought for the Bard, he offered her his wine and of course she turned him away. The entire journey she had been on his ass…so it was a challenge to keep her guessing, watching…looking in the wrong place so his plan could be enacted. Years of bribes…blood spilled…bones broken lead to this moment. He was proud of himself, and much more, every single soul in this room.  Everyone played their part. Even when they hated him, even when they wanted to cut his throat for violated their owe code of ethics…they did what he wanted.

“Your goddess should be happy knowing that you can be humble at times. As humble as you are powerful, as you are beautiful…as you are wise.”

The Bard spouted out, that smile spreading when she saw that touch of a blush to her cheeks. She never did take a compliment well. Ego was such an interesting thing. It is taught to be a vice, but without it no one would ever be confident enough to even try to complete the most simplistic of tasks.

“Stop…you are just trying to drop my guard so you can plunge a knife in my back.”

The Bard expected nothing less from the Paladin, she was always on guard. Always ready to strike if he got out of line. So easy to lead by the nose, well at least at first. The game of cat and mouse evolved over the years. She kept getting smarter, her wisdom evolving…she made the game glorious more than anyone else.

“Oh my dear, if I haven’t killed you yet, why would I even try now. We won…he is dead. Years of labor culminates in VICTORY! Be happy for a moment, take a load off. I’m not a prisoner, you are not my warden. Take a moment to breathe. Not worry about me, not worry about them. The Monk is alive, the Wizard did her spells…BEAUTIFULLY.”

The Bard grinned down to the robed figure who gave him a tired smile and a wink. She was always nice to him, but then she got what she wanted that was less than virtuous. Soon though his attention was back to the armored woman standing before him. She was looking around too.

“The Fighter, the Barbarian, The Druid…all went above and beyond. We won! There is still so much work to be done but see this milestone as it is, the start of things getting better. The end of slavery in this realm, the end of sacrifices of women and children. Their king is dead, and the nobles will scramble like roaches in the torchlight. It is not our job to hunt them…that is for your order now. Their source of power is gone. WE WON! HA HA! SING IT!”

The move was graceful and in a moment he had the Paladin’s hands in his own and they were dancing around the throne…or what ever she could do that would approximate dancing for a few moments. You know the stuffy types; they stiffen up the moment it is perceived they are relaxing. Very cliché. Still, he was having fun, why not. His plans weren’t even nearly done yet, but for the moment he could pretend to not have a care in the world. His image has been carefully crafted over these years.

“We won.”

She offered with the slightest smile. Oh a lovely crack in the armor. That made him very happy. Though of course he wasn’t going to show it. His role in this group wasn’t as clear as The Paladin’s or The Fighters. He was the darkness. Their goal was not one that pure hearts could get. They needed that evil that lurks in the hearts of good men. Those that are willing to cut a throat so the blood could make the grass grow. Those that could take the burden of the harder tasks and still sleep at night. That was the Bard’s role, he knew it from the beginning. He knew he would be watched, hated…spoken poorly of. He did it because he could, because few could…he truly loved this land. He wanted it to thrive, he wanted the sun to shine and children to laugh again and he knew exactly what it would take for that to happen, more than anyone in the party, and that meant getting the ire of the Paladin. Being the outcast, being the one history would frown upon…and he couldn’t care less.

“See was that so hard. We will rebuild…this kingdom will sing again. People will be able to walk the streets without fear in the middle of the night. That didn’t start with our journey, it only starts with our victory here today. So when you go back to your order, you can lead your armies to hunt the nobles, and fortify the cities. You will bring hope. So go bring hope.”

He let her go holding her hand a little bit too long…he was getting sentimental. He’d miss her. He’d miss all of them. Her the most though. There was affection in their game. At least for him. Sure he had done some horrible things…in their eyes anyway. So he didn’t try to romance her. He had to keep his distance, it would never work. He knew that, and honestly he didn’t think she saw him that way in any way shape or form.

“Oh you would like that wouldn’t you. Send me away so you can lurk the shadows and let your evil plans go unhindered!”

That soft affection he had noticed in her moments ago was gone. She was PISSED! That was alarming, but then she was always like that wasn’t she. Fine one moment and a tempest the next. More so than any other woman he has known in his entire life. She was always watching, waiting to catch him. Only ever finding the aftermath.

“Well of course my dear. Not having to look after me would be a boon for you wouldn’t it? You’d be safe constantly, you could trust everyone around you…”

The Paladin then grabbed the Bard and for the very first time her eyes met his. He was at a loss for words in that moment, genuinely she caught him off guard and well…he wasn’t able to instantly recover.

“I never said I didn’t trust you. I just know you…and I know what you would do if I wasn’t around. I don’t…I don’t think I could live with myself. I have to stay by your side, I have to keep you in line.”

The Bard’s head canted as he looked into her eyes, as he actually looked. The next words were spoken without much thought.

“So you’ll just be by myside until either one of us dies?”

The Paladin’s gaze set firmly on him.

“Yes, that is the only way to keep you out of trouble.”

In that moment The Bard was back in control and his hands moved to hers and he pulled her grip from him keeping only one of her hands in his and then slowly he sank down to one knee. The Paladin was visibly shocked and this was drawing the attention of the rest of the group.

“Well, then I think there is only one way out of this. I’m a little rusty…and of all the evil things I’ve done…this will be the most devious. My dear Paladin. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife. So that  you may keep me out of trouble and simultaneously save the world for my wrath until death do us part?”

He could tell those words hit her like a ton of bricks. There was more anger, so much anger. Did she think this was a joke? For the second time her eyes met his…but when his intent was seen to be genuine. There was affection in him for her…love if one really needed to nail it down. How could there not be? She was amazing to him. He respected her more than he did himself. She blushed hard…her cheeks were more red than he had ever seen.

“I…yes. You evil bastard. I will be  your wife.”

He wouldn’t have dared to do this before. He didn’t think she felt that way about him, he didn’t want to manipulate her in such a way…but was it manipulation when it was the truth. When there was affection, desire, love. He moved in, so graceful and gentle. So slow so she could punch him, to turn away…to say no. Yet her eyes were still locked with his…and they kissed. The world melted away and it was just the two of them. In this place of death and oppression, love was found…and the very air seemed to change. It became lighter…less stale…almost rejuvenating.

“I hope I can make you happy then my dear.”

He whispered against her lips and in that moment she stepped back and tried to regain composure.

“I…I will be happy…knowing you aren’t out doing evil things…I’ll keep you by my side. You’ll have to do good now.”

She stammered, never letting go of his hand. What a charming turn of events…and what a far more interesting world was this becoming. Good and Evil married…in love…knowing their flaws without lies…He couldn’t be happier.

"I don't like you. You are just plain evil, manipulative, cruel, and sadistic, and the only reason we tolerate you is that it's better if you are where we can keep an eye on you at all times. So don't take what I'm about to tell you lightly: Thanks. We couldn't have done it without your help."

[fancyfeathers]

Dick and his darling in the Hunger Games scenario would DEFINITELY be that golden couple that Bruce and his darling used to be back in the day, like they’re definitely a couple who “can’t get their hands off each other” or “can’t get enough of each other” because they’re never seen apart and Dick is REALLL heavy on the PDA. They’re probably gonna get married asap and it’ll be like the event of the decade in the capital. Everyone’s just having a great time while Dick’s darling and Bruce’s darling are just making soulless eye contact.

Yandere!Batfam Hunger Games AU

So Dick obviously proposes right after she was crowned the victor, right in front of all of Panem, making it impossible for her to refuse. Then right after that he probably moves temporarily to live with her in the Victor’s Village in her district for a few months, the press going crazy over the Capitol’s own golden boy and his victor sweetheart seeing her in her hometown, but of course the Victor’s Village is not her hometown, it is what she got at the cost of twenty one other lives, but the citizens of the Capitol don’t need to see what it was actually like for her growing up.

He’s the one planning the wedding while he is there, or rather he is the one communicating with the wedding planners in the Capitol, her stylist from the games already has her measurements so the wedding dress will not be an issue. The only thing she needs to worry about is putting on a smile for the cameras and learn how to smile for him since without him she would be dead just like all the other tributes and someone else would be the victor.

The wedding itself is at the end of her Victory Tour, when she returns to the Capitol. The entire time, she just tries to forget about everything, the games, the looks on people’s faces, how romanced her life has become. Honestly she probably gets to the point where during the Victory Tour, on the days leading up to the wedding, when she is not giving that same old speech that someone wrote for her, address the district and the family’s of the dead tributes, she locks herself in her room of the train, completely unable to get herself to move off of her bed. Dick leaves food on her bedside and encourages her to eat when she skipped meals that day, or he also picks her up to wash her off in the bath or even go in the bath with her.

It all just becomes too much when they reach the Capitol, the interviews, the fake smiles, the dinner and party at the Presidential Mansion, the food alone probably costed more money than her parents used to make in a year. The worst part is that she does not get to go back to “celebrate” the end of the Victory Tour with her district or go back home to her parents, no she stays in the Capitol. The morning after the Victory Tour is their wedding, everyone who is anyone in the Capitol will be there, it does not matter if the bride knows them or not. Her parents and sister are not there, she begged them not to come because she did not want them to see her like that, so they made themselves sick by eating catnip, since it works as an emetic agent on humans. So if they were sick they would not be forced to attend by the Capitol.

It is a beautiful wedding, but nothing like she wanted and not to the person she wanted. She would rather exchange vows in the middle of a forest with a complete stranger, than say I do in some ornately decorated garden in the Capitol in a dress she does not even like while hundreds of thousands of eyes are on her.

Half way through the party, she has to excuse herself so she can decompress, it just all has become too much for her, the conversation with the overprivileged who have no actual idea what her life is like and if they do then they don’t care, the constant affection from her now husband, and all the food that people want her to try and she feels painfully bloated and the way the dress squeezes in her stomach does nothing to help her. Her mentor, Bruce’s darling, comes and sits with her, the first bit of silence either of them has had all night…

“Does it get better?”

“…No, it does not.”

[silverlakee]

Hello ~ 🩷

can i ask for a drabble of 'han jisung with a virgin partner'?

thank you in advance ~!

han x virgin!reader

(wc: 775 / not proofread / warnings: virgin!reader, clit play, straight smut)

• this is my first time ever writing anything so pls bare with me😣 sorry if it’s lowkey awful. i want to start writing tho so pls give feedback!

you’ve been dating your boyfriend han for about 3 months now. you guys met through felix, when one day he invited han to hangout with you guys. he’d liked you the moment he met you. your laugh, your smile, your eyes, and everything else about you.

even though you’ve been together for a few months, you guys have never done anything more than a little grinding. he’d sit you on his lap, and guide your hips back and forth. he loves having you like that, losing yourself on top of him, telling him how good he makes you feel. he also loves knowing he’s the only one who has ever had you like that.

tonight was no different. you were on top of him, grinding down onto his dick, chasing the friction that you both needed. he was extra needy tonight and he could tell you were too. he grabbed your face and kissed you deeply, mumbling “does that feel good baby?” against your lips. without hesitation, you let out a whine of approval and it only made him needier.

he guided you off of him to lay you down on the bed. he climbed on top of you and moved his hand under your shirt, rubbing circles into your sides. “i need you so bad baby, can i touch you?” he asked, hoping you’d let him. he was ready to feel all of you. he’s waited so long after all. “i’ll go slow, i’ll do whatever you tell me baby. just please let me make you feel good.” he pleaded. you let out a quiet “yes please” and a nod of approval.

he slowly rubs his hand over your clothed cunt, feeling how wet you are through the flimsy material of your shorts. “god, you’re so wet. is this all for me?” he asked, even though he knew it could only ever be for him. he slipped his hands into your panties and drew circles on your clit. he loved the sounds you were making and loved that he was the one getting you to make them.

he pulled off your shorts and panties in one swift motion, leaving you’re pussy on display for him. “han” you whined. “yes baby?” he asked as he continued his circles on your swollen clit. your body twitched, the sensation catching you off guard. “please fuck me.” he paused and looked into your eyes. he was sure he was hearing things. he’s wanted nothing more than to be inside of you, to claim you, since he met you, and now it’s finally happening.

“are you sure that’s what you want?” he asked wanting to make sure you’d made up your mind completely. “i’m sure han, i need you so badly.” he wasted no time yanking down his pants and boxers. he pumped his cock a few times before lining himself up with your dripping cunt. he slowly pushed in, watching your face for any sign of discomfort. “does it hurt?” he asked worried. you shook your head no and and pulled him down into a kiss, encouraging him to keep going. once he was all the way in, he was sure he wouldn’t last long. “you’re so fucking tight. i’m the only one to ever be inside of you like this huh?” he knew the answer, he just wanted to hear you say it.

“mhm, only you han.” he slowly pulled out and pushed back in, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. “so pretty… i love that i’m the only one who’s touched you here.“ he speeds up his thrusts. “fuck han… i think i’m gonna cum.” you moan. “yeah? you wanna make a mess all over me?show me how good only i can make you feel?” he brings his hand down to rub your clit, wanting you to have the best orgasm. “please.. don’t stop baby.” you whine out, right on the edge of your orgasm. “i won’t baby i promise.” “fuck.. you look so beautiful like this. you want me to cum inside of you?” that sent you over the edge, and you came with a loud whine.

you twitched, overstimulated as han fucked you harder, chasing his own orgasm. “i know baby, i know. i’m so close.. you’re gonna make me fucking bust.” with one last deep thrust he released inside of you. he collapsed on top of you, kissing all over your face. “how was it love? was i too rough?” he asked concerned. “not at all. that was amazing.” you smiled. he kissed you on the forehead and laid his head down on your chest. “i love you baby.” “i love you too han.”

[starriniqhts]

.｡.:*☆ missed your call - boynextdoor.

alternate title: the voicemails boynextdoor leave.

☆ pairing boynextdoor x gn!reader wc 0.605k tw none genre fluff, mild angst in taesan + leehan's author's note this one!! i like this concept so so much, so i hope you all do as well! btw guys i actually researched fish for leehan's part it's a real study 😭😭 if you're curious... i present you with this. anyway enjoy and happy reading <3

☆ reblogs + feedback very much appreciated! ^^

thank you for calling! unfortunately, the person you’ve tried to reach is currently unavailable. please leave a message at the tone…

✧ park sungho.

“jagiya, don’t tell me you’re still asleep. i know it’s the weekend, but this late into the afternoon? *heavy sigh.* ah, i suppose i can’t fault you for that. if i didn’t have a weekend schedule this time around i’d probably be right there beside you. anyway, i just wanted to let you know that there’s some breakfast for you on the stovetop whenever you wake up. eat well, okay? call me whenever you’re free, don’t worry about my schedule. i can’t wait to hear your voice.”

✧ lee riwoo.

“hi, sweetie! it’s nothing, i just wanted to know if you’ll be free this weekend. i don’t have anything scheduled, so let’s go on a date! there was that one restaurant you’ve been talking about for a while, right? let’s go there if you still want to. i think the weather will be nice too, so we can take the food and go have a picnic by the han river! ah, i normally would have texted, but i thought it would be nice to hear your voice. call me back whenever you’re not busy? talk to you soon.”

✧ myung jaehyun.

“hey, baby, i’m at your favorite cafe right now. i’m getting you a drink! except, they ran out of some of the ingredients to make your usual order. or at least, that’s what they said when i asked. they said it’ll take twenty minutes or so if you wanna wait for your usual, or we can just order something else. what do you want? hurry up and call me back so i can get something for you! love you, baby.”

✧ han taesan.

“hi, darling. today’s show went well. our onedoor were so excited and happy! ah, i just wish you were here to see us too. tour feels like it’s dragging on forever without you beside me. i can’t wait to see you again and tell you all about what happened. and… i miss you, a lot. so i want to hug you and see your pretty smile. *soft sigh.* i think you’d get along well with the onedoor at this stop. for the bonus song, they requested your favorite. ah, you must be asleep now, right? when you wake up and hear this, i hope you had good dreams.”

✧ kim leehan.

“angel? *momentary pause.* i don’t really know why i called. i just wanted to hear your voice. i know you’re busy right now, but… i don’t know. *pause.* did you know that fish become happy when they see the ones they love? scientists did a study about it and found that fish who choose their mates are more likely to see the world in a positive light. like glass half full versus half empty. *pause.* i think the world becomes happier when i see you. the world is brighter when your smile is there to light it up. *pause.* sorry to call when you’re busy. i know you’re doing amazing. call me when you’re free, please?”

✧ kim woonhak.

“y/n, y/n! you won’t believe what i found. it’s a cat plushie! you remember the picture i sent you a few days ago, of the cat i saw in the street? i’m telling you, this plushie is like an exact copy. only, the face it’s making is like that one face you make when you’re annoyed. *soft laugh.* it’s so adorable. i’m getting one for us. i’ll send you a picture once i buy it! and no, babe, before you tell me that you don’t look like a cat, you absolutely look like a cat.”

© starriniqhts 2025, all rights reserved.

[rafeovermorals]

CRUSH - RAFE CAMERON PT. 2

he looks like he works with his hands, and smells like marlboro reds it makes me so, uh, and i can’t get enough of it

pt. 1

content: inspired on the song crush by ethel cain. mechanic!rafe au. reader isn’t from obx but she would be considered more kook. includes smut, fingering, oral (m recieving), p in v, creampie, mean!rafe, degrading, age gap (reader is eighteen), MINORS DNI!!!!!

word count: 2.5k

a/n: this is the last part to this mini series (at least for now)! but next i want to work on a dbf!rafe series or a vampire!rafe series. if anyone is interested in either one of those stayed tuned xo

“come by the shop tomorrow, it’s time for you to pay up.”

the call ended with a click. no goodbye, no time to meet. rafe didn’t bother to ask you, no, he told you.

he didn’t feel like he had to, he knew you would show up. you were the type to listen to your elders.

you laid in bed with disbelief, fingers still coated in your slick post orgasm. it didn’t take you long to drift off thinking about him— the raspiness in his voice, his dirty words repeating back in your head,

“do you normally get off on strangers talkin’ to you like this, hm? lettin’ them cum to your sweet lil’ voice over the phone?”

you stirred in your sleep as you dreamt of him. rafe was rough around the edges with eyes of a predator— the type that should tell you to run— yet you wanted more.

maybe that’s why he picked you. the perfect prey, too sweet and dumb for her own good.

rafe was nothing like the boys back home. your last boyfriend was a gentleman, clean cut and charming, but he was probably just as clueless as you. he wouldn’t know the last thing about changing out a tire, and certainly didn’t know how to please you the way rafe just had.

just from your short encounters with him, you could tell he had experience well beyond your years. he came from a different world, one that consisted of labor intensive, twelve hour work days— while you had just finished high school, barely ever lifting a finger of your own.

you were restless until the sun came up.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thankfully, today your alarm did wake you up, and you had plenty of time to get ready.

you wore your favorite yellow babydoll dress for the occasion, the one with dainty frills at the skirt that paired perfectly with your brown cowgirl boots. you had matching bows in your hair, clipped at the end of two braided pieces in the front while the rest of draped past your shoulders.

you wanted to look extra pretty for rafe since he caught you so off guard the day before, though you hoped it didn’t look too obvious

butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you went up to the rusted doors of his shop, business card folded in hand.

‘Cameron’s Auto and Body Repair’ was spelt on the glass in aged, faded lettering surrounded by dilapidated brick. you began to wonder how long he’d been there for considering the buildings clear wear and tear, which then led you to question— how old was he?

you hadn’t thought to ask for his age, or really anything else beyond what was on the business card. guess you weren’t too worried about that when he was helping you cum last night.

you walked in, a bell ringing as you did so. even with multiple cars in the lot, the shop itself was empty of customers. there was one person propped up against the checkout register, scrolling on his phone until you spoke, “excuse me?”

“are y’ pickin’ up or droppin’ o— oh.“

his eyes tore away from the screen, bored expression quickly leaving his face as his gaze landed on you. he was suddenly interested, straightening his back and pushing his device off to the side. “sorry about that, how can i help you?”

you let out a giggle at his silliness, standing across from him behind the counter. you would assume he’s close in age with you based on his appearance— youthful face and golden locks peaking from his hat. you saw he had a name tag printed to his coveralls, jj.

“hi, i’m just here to make a payment, actually.”

he stared at you for a bit, eyebrows knitted and chin rested his hand. “and you’re sure you’ve been here before? i would’ve remembered a cute face like yours.”

a blush crept to your cheeks, shaking your head. “no, but i did have some work done yesterday.”

he fumbled through the visitor log, briefly scanning the pages of signatures. “hmm, and what’s your name?”

you weren’t sure if he was asking to actually check or just wanted to know for himself— probably the latter. “i don’t think it’ll be there but it’s-“

you stopped at the sound of a loud slam, finding the source to be rafe standing on the other side of the room. your breath hitched, seeing his eyes bore into you. he was not amused, you could tell.

“flirtin’ with our customers again, maybank?”

jj looked like he was caught red handed, swallowing in his throat. “umm, no, she uh— said she had an invoice and needed to pay. that’s all.” he responded nervously, looking at you with a plea to back his word.

“yes, i wasn’t sure where to go.. i just got here.”

jj flickered between the two of you as the tension was rising in the air. sure, his boss was a jackass, but he could tell he was missing something.

rafe hummed, gesturing his head to the door behind him with arms crossed over his chest. “you can come with me. and jj, go to fuckin’ lunch.”

you gave the younger boy a small smile. you could tell he wanted to speak up— maybe stop god knows whatever was about to happen— but he held his tongue. rafe didn’t take back talk very well, something you would learn soon.

you followed in rafe’s direction where he led you past the bay and into his office. it was a tiny space, smelled of oil and gasoline with just enough room for a few file cabinets. it also had a desk, scattered with various papers and a few tools that weren’t put away.

“sit.” he referred to the worn chair in front of him, leaning on the edge of his wooden desk.

he was wearing a tank top, what used to be white but was now brown from being covered in dirt. it had ripped at the seams from its overuse, making it more like a scrap of fabric. dusted blue jeans hung low on his hips with a belt, his grease stained arms flexing at his side as he looked down at you.

you felt yourself getting warm just by looking at him.

“i brought your payment, sir.”

he smirked at your words, raising a brow as he waited and watched you.

you reached into the cup of your bra, feeling around until you pulled out a wad of cash that you had stuck there earlier. you unrolled the paper bills, handing it over to him.

he counted it out with a low chuckle. “sixty dollars. you think that’s how much i’m worth, sweetheart?” he teased.

you turned red, fiddling with your bracelet from anxious habit. “i wasn’t sure how much something like that costed, ‘s all.”

“i already told y’that i don’t want your money.” he stood up, setting the cash aside. “i have other ways that i would prefer you to pay me back.”

he towered over you, filling in the compressed space. you were eye level with his crotch, the print of his cock made itself known to you through his pants. you could smell him with his proximity— a blend of sweat and cigarettes and musk that made your head spin.

“get on your knees, darlin’.” he told you with that thick, honey southern drawl.

for a moment he took you by surprise, but you didn’t hesitate to slide off the chair and onto the tile floor in front of his feet. you shouldn’t want this. you should want a nice boy, someone your father would approve of, or at the very least take you on a date before he fucked you. yet here you were, cock desperate and mouth agape— practically begging for it.

he started to take off his gloves. “thought you would’ve texted me when you were on the way, i could’ve washed up f’you.”

“i meant to.. i must’ve forgot.”

“it’s okay, sweetheart.” his voice was smooth, but condescending. he began to work his belt free, slow and deliberate as he held eye contact with you. “now you’re just gonna have to suck me clean.”

he tugs his jeans down with his boxers, cock springing out with authority. you nearly whimper at the sight, taken aback.

he was more than just big— he was longer and thicker than you imagined— the weight heavy in your hand has you held it. his tip was flushed, a needy pink that was inviting you in.

your lips brushed the head, giving him a kiss at its slit. he let out a restrained grunt, bringing a hand to your head and grasping at the scalp. “not in the mood for teasing, baby.”

your tongue grazed his shaft, licking up from the base until he directed himself into your mouth. he tasted like a hard days work, sweat and salty precum whelming your tastebuds.

you pushed deeper for more, bracing your free hand on his thigh for support. he guides you, inch by inch into until he hit the back of your throat. you choke, pulling away.

“fuck,” you gasp out, jerking your wrist on his length while you catch your breath. he weaved his fingers through your hair, giving it a tug.

you take him in again, bobbing at a steady pace— not too far or fast— but just right.

he held his other hand on the corner of a cabinet, keeping his balance while you swirl your tongue around the tip.

“you like the taste of dirty cock in your mouth, sweetheart? i’m sure y’daddy’s real proud of you, huh?”

you moaned in response, making him buck his hips further. you could feel his legs trembling as he fucked your mouth, signaling that he was close. you relaxed your throat, ready to take his load.

but he stopped, releasing his hold on you and taking you off.

his once blue eyes were black, dark with lust and something almost evil.

“not finished with you yet, sweetheart. think i deserve a little more after that stunt you pulled out there.”

“w-what- what do you mean?” you asked, your voice soft and uneasy. you could hardly speak, let alone think.

he tisked, snatching you by the arm to get you on your feet before bending you over and pressing you down to the desk. he cleared it off with one smooth motion, stacks of paper and metal clanks hitting the floor.

“wanna act stupid now? throwin’ yourself at my employee’s, that’s what.” he growled, hands riding up your dress and grabbing at your ass. you stifled a whine as he kneaded the flesh, thumbs digging into your skin.

heat radiated off of both of you, his chest twice your size folded against your back, your cheek smushed to the wood.

“it wasn’t- ah- like that.” you breathe out as his fingers find your panties, swiping over your clothed clit.

“so what was it like then? hmm?” he nudged his knee between your thighs, parting your legs for better access. he rubbed tedious circles, your arousal soaking through the cotton.

“i came here for you.. just you.” you answered in a moan.

“just me.” he agreed, tugging off your panties and tucking them into his pocket. he slipped his middle finger past your folds, sinking into your cunt.

“shouldn’t even be stretchin’ you out first, think you did enough of that when i called you.”

he curled the digit, hooking and flicking it inside you in a spot that makes your knees buckle underneath him. you bite down on a lip to silence yourself.

rafe was impatient. he’d already had a bad day— behind on some repair that should’ve been finished weeks ago— then his lazy ass staff had the audacity to make a move on you. he needed you now.

maybe if he was in a better mood he would’ve taken care of you first, given you an orgasm or two with his mouth— but he didn’t think you deserved that— not today at least.

his cock wedged into your entrance, no mercy with a full thrust. you winced, crying out as he rocked into you, the mix of your spit and slick still not enough to relieve the pain of his girth. you were so tight, your walls gripping his cock as he fucked himself into you.

“such a good girl, takin’ me so well.”

the burn eventually wore off, his thrusts that started off slow began to speed up. you were still squeezing around him, splitting you open farther than you had been before.

your search along the desk for something to grab, getting him to hold both your wrists behind your back. you balled your hands into a fist, your whimpers getting louder as he picked up the pressure. harder, controlled.

he was slamming into you now, the slaps of his thighs meeting yours while he grunted into your ear. “look so fuckin’ pretty today, darlin’, makes me wanna put my babies in you.”

you couldn’t reply, he knew it too. you just had to lay there and let him use you— for pay back.

this was exactly what he wanted. your pussy was so wet and warm, practically untouched. it was as if you were created for him.

you clenched around his cock, like an animal in heat you found yourself matching his movements, your body accepting its purpose.

you were cock drunk, words inaudible as the legs of the desk shifted with each forceful thrust. he was pounding into you hungrily, both of your faces screwing up in pleasure.

he knew he grazed that sweet spot in your walls when you fluttered around his length, stickiness pooling at the base of his cock.

“wanna watch you cum on my cock.” he grumbles, releasing your wrists as he pulls away, flipping you over to be face to face.

he picked up where he left off, plunging into you as he met your hips with sloppy, frantic thrusts. you were so weak by that point he had to hold your legs up, toes curling when his tip connected with your cervix.

“gonna cum- please, rafe- fuck, right there.” you were a babbling mess, mewling like a kitten.

he brought one hand to your mouth. stuffing his fingers in to shush you like a pacifier. his other hand went to your swollen clit, rubbing the sensitive bud to help get to your climax.

he coaxed you through it. “cmon, just like that. i know you’re almost there, sweetheart.”

he rammed into you a few more times, watching his bulge outline your little tummy as you took him.

your core eventually snaps, releasing the flood as you squirm and shake— too much to bare.

“too much! too much!”

“nuh uh. be a big girl, and take it.”

he started to stutter, eventually spilling his load inside of you. your cunt pulsated as you felt him fill you up, like it was trying to collect all of his seed.

rafe moved aside, zipping up his jeans while you flattened your dress. he gave you a kiss on the cheek, like one you would give to a child, patting it afterwards in approval.

“now we’re even.”

[makeitmingi]

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 18]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.2K

"B-But sir!" The male shakily raised a finger to try and object but when Hongjoong raised an eyebrow at him, he immediately stopped, gulping in fear. If the other employees saw the boss of the rental company like this, they would have lost all respect for him.

"You dare raise the rental of buildings in my area without telling me? Did you seriously think you could do whatever you liked?" Hongjoong crossed his legs.

"I'm sorry, sir!" The landlord begged on his knees, in fear for his life. But Hongjoong knew these landlords too well.

"You're going to return the rates back to what it was, you're going to give me all the profits you have made so far." Hongjoong listed.

"B-But-" The male stuttered

"I'm not finished. Your cut of the rental has now been lowered. I let you manage any building in my territory, let you make profits of MY buildings. And you do this." He tilted his head.

"If you can't manage it, I can just give the responsibility to someone else." Hongjoong shrugged.

"No, sir! Please don't, I will do whatever you want. I apologise, it will never happen again." The male bowed deeply.

"You better hope so. I don't usually give second chances. People that try to pull stunts with me never live long enough to regret it." Hongjoong grabbed the guy's tie, pulling him forward.

Hongjoong was beyond angry and everyone in the room could see it. It happened yesterday, when you casually mentioned that the landlord has been increasing your store's rental. Hongjoong immediately knew the landlord was pocketing the profit and no one gets away with doing that.

"Yes, sir." The male nodded his head shakily and Hongjoong shoved him back, making him fall back.

"Let's go." Hongjoong stood up and one of his men opened the door for him. He walked out of the building with his men following behind, all the way to their cars.

"Go back. I have somewhere to be." Hongjoong said.

"Sir." The driver handed Hongjoong the keys to the Rolls Royce and the men all piled in the working van.

"Here we are." Hongjoong stopped outside your store, parking the car. As usual, there were some people stopping to stare at Hongjoong's car but he was used to it.

"(y/n)? Are you here? Hello~" Hongjoong stepped into your store, closing the door behind him, a pep in his step.

"(y/n)?" He called out again when there was no reply.

"Hongjoong! What are you doing here? Didn't you see the sign? I'm actually closed today." You popped up from behind the working counter. Hongjoong stopped and blinked, shaking his head. He didn't even see the sign, he just came in through the door.

"Oh, no. I didn't see the sign, didn't notice it at all. Sorry." Hongjoong rubbed the back of her neck.

"No worries, I guess I shouldn't have left the door open. What do you need?" You giggled, gesturing for him to sit in the usual seat.

"Nothing, actually. I was... Uh... Just in the area doing some work and dropped by." He informed, gratefully receiving the cold brew tea you handed to him.

"Ah, I see. I hope your meeting went well then." You smiled.

"Wait, why are you closed today?" Hongjoong asked, taking a sip of the refreshing cold tea.

"I'm preparing for my big event so I don't really have time to tend to customers or prepare orders. I have multiple deliveries coming in today." You informed as you walked around.

"That makes sense. So you're working on your event stuff today?" You nodded your head.

"Yeah, that's my main focus. My friends are coming in tonight to help me work through the others stuff that I can't finish in the day. Then I'll go to the event tomorrow to finish setting up there so I have to make sure I have everything I need. It seems like quite a big event so there's a lot to do." You said.

"Oh! The event is tomorrow? Do you... happen to know where it is?" Hongjoong questioned.

"Actually, no. The organiser is rather secretive so I think it's a high profile event. They even sending people and vans over to transport me, the flowers and all that over to the event." You shrugged.

"Wow, that's something. But you'll do well, your floral arrangements are always pretty." He complimented.

"Thank you, Hongjoong..." You coughed to hide your embarrassment.

"Do you want to have lunch together? I can order in. Or if you're busy, I'll leave you alone. I bet you have a lot to get done, I don't want to be in your way." He said.

"No, it's fine. I have to eat too to fuel me, don't I? Sure, just order whatever. I'll eat anything." You chuckled.

"No, no. Come look." Hongjoong set up his iPad and pulled up the delivery food page.

"Ugh, just pick for me. I'm busy~" You threw your head back with a groan. Hongjoong snickered, knowing he successfully managed to annoy you. Since you were busy walking around, Hongjoong picked a sandwich and some .

"Go, do your stuff. I'll get the food when it arrives." Hongjoong playfully waved you off. You chuckled and nodded, refilling his cold tea before continuing your work.

"Also, let me know how much lunch is. We'll split it, 50/50." You said to him.

"No, no. I'm the one here, bothering you while you work. It's a treat from me." Hongjoong replied.

"You always say that and don't let me pay!" You protested. Hongjoong ignored you and worked on his iPad quietly. Did he have a dozen offices to work in? Yes. But he preferred to work here.

"Delivery!"

"I'll get it!" Hongjoong stood up before you could go to the door. He paid the delivery boy and brought the bags of food in.

"You ordered so much food, Hongjoong!" You exclaimed in shock when you saw him bringing in the bags that were filled with containers. You moved your things aside.

"You told me to choose. I'm indecisive." Hongjoong shrugged as you took the bags and laid the containers out on the table. Since you were going to sit and eat, you decided to use the time to work on the revised designs for the flower stands that would go at the entrance and the bouquet that would go on each table.

"Eat first, work later.." Hongjoong said, putting his hand over the iPad screen to cover it.

"I am eating. See?" You held up your half of the chicken sandwich and even took a bite to prove a point. Hongjoong took the drink out for you and put the straw in it.

"What drink did you order me?" You asked.

"Strawberry lemonade. It's Seonghwa's favourite here." He replied, taking his coffee out.

"He has good taste." You nodded in approval after taking a sip. Hongjoong chuckled and ate a bite of his own pasta, reading his emails. Suddenly, your hand came in front of his iPad.

"Eat first, work later." You repeated his words back to him. Hongjoong jokingly rolled his eyes and moved his iPad aside.

"Fine." He grumbled.

After lunch, Hongjoong quietly worked, not wanting to disturb you anymore but you did engage in conversation with him from time to time. And he helped you organise the deliveries.

"Thanks for your help." You straightened your back after the both of you hauled in another box of flowers.

"Don't mention it. You would have seriously hurt your back if you did all that on your own." Hongjoong let out a huff, pulling the box away from the walkway so no one would trip. His phone buzzed on the table and he checked it.

"Sorry, looks like I have to go. Work stuff to attend to, Seonghwa's pissed." Hongjoong sighed, sending you an apologetic look as he packed up his things.

"Mmm, don't apologise. You've helped a lot despite having to do work. Hope Seonghwa doesn't grill you too hard." You giggled.

"He won't." Hongjoong chuckled.

"Thank you for all your help." You said as you walked with him to the door. Too bad, you didn't see your group of friends approaching the store. They stopped in their tracks, as did you and Hongjoong.

"Uh... What's going on here?" Nana tilted his head with a smirk. Eve sent you a little wave.

"Nevermind them. Have a great night, Hongjoong." You turned to the male. Hongjoong nodded and waved to you.

"See you around." He met eyes with your friends before heading to his car. Their eyes followed him, widening slightly at the Rolls Royce that he was driving.

"Damn, (y/n). You have a lot of explaining to do." Hyunwoo whistled, making you roll your eyes.

"He's just a friend. He was in the area and dropped by to help me handle the deliveries. There's nothing else to explain to you guys." You said as you walked back into the shop with them trailing behind you. Jihoon lagged behind the group, turning to watch Hongjoong drive off in his car.

"Alright, these are the assignments for tonight. Arrange the flowers like these and the ribbons will go here." You instructed, putting a picture of the bouquets on the table.

"Yes, boss!" Your friends saluted.

"If there are any questions, let me know. Thanks again for helping me." You smiled softly.

"No need to thank us. We wouldn't have let you do all this on your own too." Jihoon squeezed your shoulder with a smile, the rest nodded in agreement.

"Let's get started!" Hyunwoo fist pumped.

"So, you and that guy." Nana nudged you. Eve giggled and leaned in to listen to you.

"That guy's name is Hongjoong. And like I said, just friends. Nothing else." You sighed, cutting the stems of the flowers as the two arranged them into the table setting.

"He's handsome though. You should go for him." Eve said and Nana nodded her head.

"I'm way out of his league. I mean, I only know him because he's Mrs Kim's son and I practically work for his family. That's probably all he sees me as... a friend, someone who knew his mother, someone who works as his gardener." You shrugged.

"Oh, you sweet naive child." Your friends teased. You tilted your head in confusion but they just snickered to themselves. You gave them disapproving looks and continued your task.

"Alright, no more teasing her." Jihoon came to defend you, trying to sound playful.

"Yeah! What Jihoon said." You crossed your arms with a small pout.

"Slowpokes, if we're gonna get any sleep tonight, we better work faster." Hyunwoo said, a bunch of flowers in his hands. He was in charge of picking the flowers from the bucket for each bouquet.

"Hyunwoo's right." You hummed and went back to trimming the stalks off the flowers.

Although as you worked, all you could think about was what your friends said. It didn't matter if you felt anything more for Hongjoong, you were so different from him.

"Where should I put these?" Jihoon's voice broke your train of thought. He carried the acrylic flower stands over.

"Just near the entrance would do. I'll put the bouquets on top of them at the venue itself." You pointed. He nodded and moved the stands. Jihoon had wrapped the stands in decorative wrapping and added a big bow right in front. The designs were over the top since they were to go at the entranceways.

"Let me help with that now. Tell me where I should be cutting." He grabbed a pair of pruning sheares to help you cut the access stalks off the bottom of the flowers.

"Here is about good." You held the flowers out to him to demonstrate the ideal height.

"Is this okay?" Eve asked, showing you the flowers that she arranged according to the design in the picture you gave her.

"That's great. Since Jihoon is trimming the stalks, I can start decorating them and wrapping them up." You said, putting your pruning sheares away.

"How are you transporting all this over to the venue?" Nana asked as she put together the bouquet.

"The organiser is sending a few vans and movers over. They apparently have people there to help set up." You informed.

"Honestly, that sounds a little suspicious... Why are they being so secretive about it? Are you sure this event is legit and everything?" She frowned slightly.

"Don't worry, it is legit. They sent over documentation and everything. Plus, they already paid so even if it was a sham... I wouldn't be too bothered with it, I think. It could just be a high profile event." You scratched your head.

"Maybe one of us should tag along with you. You know... Just in case." Eve suggested. Jihoon and Hyunwoo nodded in agreement.

"I'm not going to get kidnapped or anything." You threw your head back in laughter.

"(y/n), this is serious." Hyunwoo said.

"I knowwwww. But trust me, I'll be fine, I'll keep you guys updated regularly throughout the thing, okay? I promise." You held your hand up to swear to them.

"You better come back from this event with all fingers, toes and unharmed." Nana crossed her arms.

-

When Hongjoong arrived back, Seonghwa came out from the dining room with a stack of folders.

"Where's Yunho? I need to ask him something." He asked.

"I think he just went to bed, came back from a race. I told all the boys to cancel late night plans with the gala happening tomorrow. We don't need anyone in the hospital or showing up with a busted face." Seonghwa said. Hongjoong nodded in agreement and walked into his office with Seonghwa behind him.

"So... How was the issue with your landlords?" Seonghwa questioned, leaning against Hongjoong's desk.

"Settled. Luckily (y/n) mentioned to me that the rental has been increasing or else I wouldn't have known. Guy thinks he could pull a fast one on me." Hongjoong growled.

"Are you ever going to tell her? That you own the building she works and lives at?" Seonghwa asked.

"Not right now. I have other things to deal with. For this to have happened, it means I'm too distracted." Hongjoong sighed.

"You're always working hard anyway. So what did you do? Kill the guy?" Seonghwa raised an eyebrow. He knew Hongjoong's temper, especially when he gets backstabbed and/or betrayed.

"No. If I kill him and send another landlord, (y/n) will get suspicious. I really wanted to though." Hongjoong said.

"I know. Anyway, this is for you. Jongho said you wanted it." Seonghwa passed over the stack of folders that he had been carrying. Hongjoong nodded and opened the first folder on top, letting Seonghwa peeked over to see.

"You got background checks on (y/n)'s friends?" Seonghwa asked, recognising a picture of one of the girls that you were with at the racetracks the other night.

"I bumped into them earlier and I just want to make sure they don't recognise me or are a threat." The captain explained.

"This guy was giving me looks. I wanted to make sure he didn't know who I was." He pointed to Jihoon's picture.

"Or, you're a mysterious guy who is talking to one of his female friends and he's protective." Seonghwa suggested. Hongjoong sent him a look.

"Or he could have a crush on (y/n) and sees you as competition." Seonghwa stated directly with a shrug. Hongjoong's eyes widened but he regained composure and cleared his throat.

"That's impossible. And (y/n)'s not some prize that you win. It's demeaning to refer to her as such." Hongjoong said.

"Sure. That's the issue... Anyway even if it was really a competition, Jihoon has you beat." Seonghwa teased.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" Hongjoong frowned. Seonghwa was mentally snickering, knowing exactly what he has done to Hongjoong.

"Look, Joong. You want me to be real with you. Firstly, Jihoon has known (y/n) longer. From what I saw at the bar the first time, he is protective of her and she's comfortable around him to be vulnerable, they're close. And honestly, you've been pretty mean to (y/n). Even if you do apologise and make up after." Seonghwa said.

"That's all based on your theories and assumptions, Hwa. Interesting but all assumptions." Hongjoong said, looking disinterested by turning on his computer to check his messages.

"I'm not wrong, Hongjoong." Seonghwa laughed.

"Whatever. Don't bother me, I need to work since we'll be busy with the gala tomorrow!" Hongjoong waved Seonghwa off.

"Goodnight. By the way, I left the new contracts there for you to sign. Get them back to me tomorrow, we'll be seeing partners at the gala." Seonghwa informed.

"Sure." Hongjoong nodded. Once Seonghwa left, Hongjoong began to look through the contracts.

"You've been pretty mean to (y/n)."

All of Seonghwa's words from earlier were constantly replaying in Hongjoong's head and honestly, it stirred up a lot of different emotions in him like anger, guilt, envy and jealousy.

"Ugh..." Hongjoong groaned and went to get himself a whiskey to stop himself from being so distracted.

Hongjoong already felt enough guilt whenever he did something to hurt you. He doesn't feel these emotions regularly, he kills without mercy, he runs the gang ruthlessly with toughness because as the captain, he cannot show any weakness.

"This is too complicated." Hongjoong rubbed his temples. He has never felt so many feelings altogether at once and he didn't know what to do with himself.

"Hyung? You're still awake?" Mingi poked his head into Hongjoong's office.

"Yes, why are you awake? Didn't Seonghwa set a curfew?" Hongjoong raised an eyebrow at the taller male, his outfit showing he was out.

"It's called sneaking out, hyung~" Mingi sang.

"Uh huh... I'm sure he won't be pleased to hear that." Hongjoong nodded. Mingi scoffed and came into Hongjoong's office, curiously looking at all the paperwork that was strewn everywhere.

"Lighten up, hyung! The gala is tomorrow. You look so gloomy and I could hear you sighing from the hallway earlier." Mingi chuckled.

"I know, that's why I have work to do, Mingi ah. I will be too busy with the gala tomorrow and I cannot afford to be distracted right now." Hongjoong said.

"Do you need help?" Mingi asked.

"No, you're too intoxicated right now to be looking over any official documents. And besides, even if you were sober, I don't even think you've completed your own work." Hongjoong blinked. Mingi rubbed the back of his neck, knowing that the captain saw through him. With a salute, he headed for the door.

"Do all this then have fun tomorrow, okay hyung?" Mingi said as a final statement before he left Hongjoong's office.

"Have fun.." Hongjoong repeated. Luckily, Mingi wasn't nosy enough to look through the folders that had the profiles of your friends. Hongjoong gathered those up

"Competition, huh?" He took one last look at Jihoon's profile and put the entire stack in his drawer, closing it after.

~

Series masterlist

[bambieyedoll]

⋆·˚ ༘ * PAUL LAHOTE HEADCANNONS 𐚁̸.ᐟ

𐙚 enemies to lovers

if there’s one thing everyone in la push knows, it’s that you and paul cannot be in the same room without starting a fight.

constantly. over anything, over nothing. even if there’s no real reason to fight, you’ll find one.

“move.”

“say please.”

“go to hell.”

“after you.”

every interaction feels like a battle waiting to happen. you don’t just dislike each other—you go out of your way to push each other’s buttons.

for years, it’s been nothing but cutting remarks, sharp glares, and near-constant tension.

paul loves to get under your skin. if there’s an opportunity to push you to the edge, he takes it.

it doesn’t even matter why—you two could be standing in line for food at a bonfire, and somehow it turns into an argument.

“you gonna take the whole tray of food, lahote?”

“mind your business, y/n.”

“mind your table manners.”

“you wanna come feed me, sweetheart?”

“i’d rather let you starve.”

the tension between you and paul is thick.

the pettiest fights start over nothing. and paul is the king of pettiness. you just match his energy every step of the way.

he parks his truck in your usual spot? fine. you “accidentally” bump into his side mirror hard enough to push it out of place.

paul steals your seat every time you get up and you “accidentally” step on his foot when walking past him.

there’s a lot of accidental (and not-so-accidental) touching.

shoulder brushes when you walk past him.

standing too close when you argue.

one time, you grabbed his wrist in frustration and both of you froze for a second. you let go like he burned you. he smirked like it meant something.

he loves invading your space just to see you flustered.

neither of you admit it, but there’s something else under all the hostility.

a tension that has nothing to do with anger and everything to do with the fact that fighting with paul is the most intense thing you’ve ever felt.

the way he gets so close when he argues with you, like he’s daring you to back down.

the way your breath catches when he smirks at you, even if it’s infuriating.

the way everyone else can feel the unresolved tension and has their own theories about why you fight so much.

the truth that nobody knows about.

you and paul weren’t always enemies.

in fact, when you were younger, you were actually friends. not just casual friends, either—you were really starting to grow close.

he was rough around the edges even as a kid, but with you, he was different. softer.

you were always excited to see him, always the first to drag him into some new adventure. he never admitted it, but he loved it.

for the first time, paul had someone who actually wanted to be around him, someone who made him feel like he wasn’t just the loud, reckless kid with a temper.

one day, you overheard him talking with his friends—some of the older boys, the ones he was always trying to impress.

you didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the second you heard your name, you froze.

“you and y/n have been hanging out a lot.”

one of them laughed. “what, she your girlfriend now?”

paul immediately scoffed, voice laced with defensiveness. “hell no.”

your heart dropped.

“she’s annoying as hell. always following me around like a lost puppy.”

the boys laughed, and paul—your best friend—laughed with them.

you felt sick. like an idiot. like you had completely misread everything.

after that, you stopped talking to him. you ignored him in school, brushed past him like he didn’t exist. and when he finally cornered you, demanding to know what your problem was, you let him have it.

“i get it, paul.” your voice was sharp, biting. “i’m just some annoying little girl you don’t want to be seen with. so don’t worry— i won’t waste your time anymore.”

he stood there, stunned, watching you walk away.

and just like that, your friendship was over.

the thing was— paul liked you. more than liked you. he had a crush, and at that age, he had no idea what to do with that.

the older boys caught on before he even realized it himself. they saw the way he let you drag him around, the way he never told you to leave him alone, the way he looked at you when you weren’t looking.

and they teased him mercilessly.

“paul and y/n, sitting in a tree—”

“bet he’s in love with her.”

he panicked. he didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of them, didn’t want them to think he was weak for liking you.

so he denied it. he scoffed, rolled his eyes, said exactly what he thought they wanted to hear. and it worked. they laughed, shoved his shoulder, moved on.

but then he saw you. saw your face, heard your voice when you told him you were done with him. and he knew he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life.

but instead of apologizing—because apologizing would mean admitting he cared—paul acted like he didn’t.

he pretended he didn’t care that you suddenly hated him. he acted like it didn’t bother him when you ignored him, when you gave him those cold, sharp glares.

but it did bother him. it ate him alive.

and because he was too stubborn, too proud, he fought back in the only way he knew how—by being just as cold.

if you were going to hate him? fine. he could hate you too.

by the time you were both older, the damage had been done. your old friendship was nothing but a distant memory, buried under years of resentment.

you went from being the person he trusted most to the person who got under his skin more than anyone else.

every interaction was sharp, bitter, full of tension.

“still an asshole, i see.”

“still up in my business, i see.”

paul acts like you annoy him more than anyone, but the truth?

you haunt him.

he hates that he still remembers the way you used to look at him when you were friends—like he was worth something.

he hates that he hurt you, that he was too much of a coward to stop it when he had the chance.

he hates that arguing with you is the closest thing he gets to having you in his life again.

and the worst part? he’s still so damn drawn to you.

every time you throw an insult at him, he finds himself grinning like an idiot.

every time you roll your eyes at him, he has to fight the urge to grab your face and make you look at him differently.

but instead of admitting any of it, he doubles down. he fights with you harder, because as long as you’re arguing with him, he still has your attention.

you’ve never hated someone more than paul lahote.

he’s arrogant, infuriating, and knows exactly how to push your buttons. but deep down? you hate that you still remember when he wasn’t like this.

you hate that sometimes, when you catch him looking at you, there’s something almost guilty in his expression.

you hate that your heart still races when he smirks at you. but most of all, you hate that you still care. so instead of dealing with it, you fight him. every single time.

and if your arguments feel almost too heated, if his voice gets almost too low when he growls your name, if your pulse quickens for a reason that has nothing to do with anger… you ignore it.

because there is no way you’re falling for paul lahote.

but for two people who claim to hate each other, you sure spend a lot of time noticing each other.

you notice when he’s not around, and he notices when you’re too quiet.

he won’t admit it, but he listens when you talk—he knows what annoys you, what makes you smile, what makes you shut down.

but the ghost of the past always comes back.

everything builds until one day, one fight goes too far. maybe it happens at a bonfire, where the tension is just too much and one of you snaps.

“you know what, paul? i feel sorry for you. you act all tough, but deep down, you’re still that same insecure little boy who cared more about what his friends thought than about the people who actually gave a damn about him.”

paul’s jaw tightens. his usual cocky expression is gone. “yeah? and you’re still that same pathetic girl who actually thought i wanted to be your friend.”

silence. heavy, painful silence.

you hate it.

because there it was. the same old heartbreaking ache in your chest which proved that you never got over what happened between you two that day at school all those years ago.

your always confident eyes were now shattered to pieces as you felt little tears start to blur your vision.

paul regretted his words the second they left his mouth. he didn’t mean it. he felt sick.

he saw you standing there. the same way he saw you years ago when he confronted you about your sudden cold behavior and you threw his words to his face, saying goodbye to him, taking your friendship away with you.

neither of you said anything for a while.

both of you just stood there. taking all in. how did you get to this point? what the hell were you even doing?

but you refused to be taken for a fool again. so with the strength you had left, you breathed in and turned to leave without looking back.

paul opened his mouth but no words came out.

because maybe you were right, he was still that same insecure little boy.

you both avoid each other for days. but it doesn’t last. you’re drawn to each other like magnets, even when you try to fight it.

you miss him.

not just the bickering, not just the tension—you miss him. the way he keeps up with you, the way he notices things no one else does. and maybe that terrifies you more than anything.

eventually, paul gives in first.

the sun is out, the air warm, and you’re at the beach with some friends. you’re laughing at something the guy sitting next to you said.

you don’t even notice paul watching, his entire body tensing, jaw clenched so tightly it aches.

you don’t see the way his hands curl into fists when the guy leans in close, whispering something that makes you smile.

you don’t see him snap.

one second, you’re enjoying your time, trying to push paul’s words out of your mind. the next, there’s a shadow looming over you.

you glance up, startled, and meet his eyes— dark, blazing.

the guy beside you shifts uncomfortably. “uh—”

paul doesn’t even look at him. his focus is on you, and only you.

“we need to talk,” he says, voice tight.

you scoff, crossing your arms. “i don’t think we do.”

paul’s jaw flexes. his breathing is shallow, his entire body radiating heat—anger. jealousy. “now.”

your friend looks between the two of you, standing awkwardly. “uh, maybe i should—”

“yeah,” paul grits out. “maybe you should.”

you glare at him, but your friend mumbles something about catching up later and leaves. you turn back to paul, ready to explode.

“what the hell is wrong with you?” you snap, standing up to face him. “you treat me like trash, and now you suddenly decide to act like—“

paul takes a step closer, his chest moving with each breath. “like what? huh? like i care?” he lets out a breathy humorless laugh and turns to look around before meeting your gaze again.

you roll your eyes. “i don’t have time for this, paul.”

“jesus, you— you drive me insane!” he exclaims, desperately dragging a hand through his hair.

“what? am i annoying? like a lost puppy?” you throw his words back in his face. “guess some things never change.”

he finally snaps. “i never meant that, and you damn well know it, y/n.” his voice breaks.

and for the first time, you really look at each other.

“i fucked up,” he interrupts before you can even say anything. “back then. the other night. every damn day ever since.” his hands are shaking, and he clenches them like he’s trying to ground himself.

he hated himself for what he did back then. hated himself for caring so much about what other people thought that he hurt the one person who actually gave a shit about him.

“i was a stupid kid, alright?” his voice is rough, desperate. “i didn’t mean a word of that. i was just—scared.”

“scared of what?”

“scared of how much i liked you.”

you freeze. you don’t say anything. you can’t.

“i still do,” he says, stepping even closer, voice raw and unwavering. “i don’t think i ever stopped feeling like this.”

he hesitates, his breathing uneven. “and if you tell me i don’t have a chance, i’ll walk away. i swear, i will. but if there’s even one part of you that still—” he cuts himself off, inhaling sharply. “then please, i need to know.”

your chest is tight. every inch of you is burning.

because god— you wanted him too.

you should be angry. you are angry. he hurt you—again and again. you told yourself you were done, that you wouldn’t let him do this to you anymore.

but when paul takes another step forward, you don’t move away.

his voice is quieter now, almost fragile. “say something.”

say it, and he’ll go. say it, and he won’t fight anymore.

but you don’t say it. you can’t.

because you’re looking at him, and for the first time in years, you see him—really see him. the boy you used to laugh with, the one who made you feel like you had something special. the boy who messed up, who hurt you, but who is standing here now, heart in his hands, ready to face whatever comes next.

your chest aches.

“you piss me off,” you whisper.

paul lets out a short, breathless laugh, almost in disbelief. “i know.”

“you hurt me.”

his expression twists in agony. “i know.”

you hesitate, then take a shaky breath. “don’t do that again— promise me.”

paul’s entire body stills. his throat bobs as he swallows, eyes searching yours for any sign that you’re messing with him.

then, slowly, carefully, he reaches for your hand. his fingers brush against yours—warm, hesitant, like he’s afraid you might pull away.

you don’t.

instead, you let him lace his fingers through yours, squeezing gently, grounding both of you.

a breath leaves him, like he’s been holding it this entire time. then he exhales one last shaky whisper. “i swear.”

after the truth comes out, it’s not immediate. there’s still so much tension, so much unspoken history. but little by little, things start to change.

you take it easy, to everyone’s surprise.

the arguments soften. the insults turn into teasing. the glares linger, but now there’s something else —something soft behind them.

“you still drive me insane, you know?”

“good. wouldn’t want you getting bored.”

eventually, neither of you can fight it anymore.

maybe one day you’re teasing each other, flirting/arguing, or maybe you’re just looking at each other for too long.

either way, the next thing you know, his hands are in your hair, and your lips are crashing into his like you’ve been waiting for this moment forever.

you never go back to the way things were, not exactly. but something new grows between you—something that feels even better, something real.

and at the end of the day, when he pulls you close, arms wrapped around your waist like he never wants to let go, you know you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

[freshluvr]

house party with dealer!chris and sweet!reader

⚠︎ mentions of underage drinking & drug use, mentions of drunk people, use of y/n - if there’s anything else lmk xx ⚠︎

Chris pulled up to the front of the house, one hand on the steering wheel, the other high up on y/n’s thigh. Y/n gently rests her hand on top of Chris’, her thumb rubbing back and forth unconsciously. Her knee bounces up and down with nerves, biting the nails on her right hand harshly. One the car is in park, Chris looks over at y/n, scoffing slightly and pulling her fingers away from her mouth.

“Relax ma, I ain’t gonna let nothing bad happen. I gotchu.” He speaks smoothly, holding both of her hands firmly in one of his as he used the other to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He admires her, looking at the beautifully done makeup on her face - making her look more delicate than ever. He admires her clean, shiny hair and the way it was styled in pretty waves. He admired the short, floral, dark red sundress she was wearing - not because of how good it made her tits look or how much of her legs it showed off, but because of how genuinely gorgeous he thought it made her look. Chris was admiring her so intently, that he didn’t even realise the car had been engulfed in silence until y/n spoke up.

“What’s wrong? Is my makeup rubbed off? Can you see my spots?” She panicked, turning to look in the rear view mirror. Before she even had a chance to worry about her acne showing or her makeup not looking good, Chris gently grabbed her chin and turned her head towards him. He leans in to kiss her, but she pulls away slightly. “I’ll get lipstick on you!” She giggles slightly.

“Good. Let everyone know I’m yours.” He pulls her in again, more firmly this time so she can’t pull away, but still ever so gently. After a few seconds, they pull away. y/n is blushing like an idiot, and Chris is looking lovingly into her doe eyes. “I fuckin’ love you ma.” He states intensely, not stuttering and not breaking eye contact as he said it. This made y/n blush even more ferociously. Sure, they’d said they loved each other before, but never so intimately. Never so assertively.

“I love you too Chris.” She beams, kissing his cheek gently before reaching to rub off the gloss she’d left printed. All Chris did was grab her wrist and shake his head, insisting that it was kept on there. She smiled warmly, and they both got out the car. y/n walked round to Chris’ side and grabbed a hold of his hand gently. As soon as he felt this, Chris gripped her hand back, pulling her inside.

The music was booming, vibrating off the walls. Chris dapped up a few of his mates, introducing y/n to the ones she hadn’t yet met. She waved politely and made conversation with a couple of them whilst Chris was sorting out business. Despite him being busy selling to all sorts of people throughout the night, Chris always ensured he stayed close to y/n. He didn’t stop her from doing anything, but monitored everything she was doing to make sure she was safe.

y/n nursed her fourth cup of whatever concoction was in the punch bowl, swaying slightly as she talked to some friends she’d seen. Then, ‘come on Eileen’ started playing through the speakers. y/n gasped with utter joy and span around, making eye contact with Chris. He knew no matter what he said, there was no getting out of what was about to happen.

You see, the perks of being a wallflower was one of y/n’s favourite movies of all time. After watching it multiple times whilst staying over at Chris’ house, she asked him to learn the dance with her. They went back and forth a little, Chris not wanting to do it and y/n wanting nothing more, but ultimately Chris knew he couldn’t reject this idea. So, despite the minimal effort he put into it, the ‘come on Eileen’ dance was now their dance, and they’d do it whenever the song came on. No exceptions. No way out of it.

y/n smiled at him and pulled him towards the centre of the living room, preparing to start. Chris tried his hardest not to crack a smile, but seeing the tipsy girl look so happy was making it insanely difficult. As they danced, they got many looks from the people around. Some people were looking impressed, mostly at the fact that Chris had agreed to not only learn the dance but also do it in public, whilst others just simply rolled their eyes. Despite the little effort Chris was putting into it, in an attempt to keep up his cold dealer persona, y/n couldn’t be happier. Once the dance section was over, she threw herself into Chris’ chest, wrapping her arms around his neck whilst his hands found themselves cupping her ass. She kissed him lovingly yet passionately, smiling into it as she did so.

Normally, y/n wasn’t one for PDA as she was too afraid of making people uncomfortable. However, the pure serotonin racing through her body combined with the heavy mixture of alcohol she had consumed was doing nothing for her social awareness. She pulled away and looked down, blushing for what felt like the millionth time that day, smiling to herself like an idiot. Chris’ hands moved, one gripping her waist possessively and the other moving gently to her neck, his thumb pushing her chin up to make eye contact with him once more. He leaned down again and kissed her forehead, just wanting to hold her close.

The moment was sweet and comfortably intimate, until someone walked over to Chris and tapped his shoulder. Chris rolled his eyes and turned to face the interrupting boy - still keeping one hand on y/n’s waist. Once she realised what the boy wanted, y/n pulled away from Chris and told him she was going to find her friends again. He nodded and petted her head as she walked away, not being able to help but check her out as her hips swayed further and further away.

Unable to find her friends, y/n settled at the drinks table, filling cup after cup with the sweet tasting alcohol. She stood on her own, scanning the crowd for anyone she recognised, reaching into her bra to pull out her strawberry vape. She stood there, puffing the crystal bar from one hand and holding her drink in the other. Seconds turned into minutes, which then turned into half an hour before Chris finally found her again. By this point, she was barely standing on her own. Chris found her supporting her weight on the wall as she puffed on her vape, smiling at nothing in her drunken state.

“How much you drank, ma?” He questioned, taking her face in both of his hands gently. She simply shrugged at his question, giggling to herself even though nothing was funny. He rolled his eyes playfully at her, speaking to her in a soft tone. “You ready to go?” He didn’t want to leave, knowing that the later he stayed, the better business would be for him. But right now, looking at the state his girl was in, he wasn’t bothered about the sale. All he was bothered about was her.

y/n pouted slightly, shaking her head a little too fast which made her slightly dizzy. She gripped onto Chris’ arms to stabilise herself before speaking slowly. “I’m having funnnn… you go sell some weed and I’ll stay here with the drinks and make friends.” She slurred, smiling innocently at Chris under his harsh gaze. At first, Chris considered listening to her, but then he saw her slow blinks and the way her eyes were rolling back slightly. He shook his head at her, picking her up like a koala which allowed her to wrap her legs around his waist. “We’re goin’ home, m’kay. Imma look after you.”

“Chris…” y/n whispered sleepily into his ear as he carried her to the car. He hummed in response, waiting for her to continue. “Thank you for tonight… for dancing with me. You made me happy… you make me happy.”

“I’ll always dance wi’ you doll.”

Let me know if you like this and also send in some ideas on what to write either in the comments or in my inbox!!!

creds to @bernardsbendystraws for the amazing dividers once again!!!

tag: @chrissweetheart @dealerchrisgf @sturniololover-09 @lvrsturniolo @adoreeelana

𝐉ꨄ

[dix0nspretty]

Too Quiet

Summary: When cleaning house with Soap, you get stabbed and he disappears.

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish x F!Reader (platonic? ish?), 1.3k words.

Era: First half of MW2

TW: Discussions of fights, stabbing, violent death (not Soap, don't worry), fainting from blood loss. Worried 141 men.

Day 23 of my bastardized version of Russian Roulette Febuwhump/Kinktober for March that I'm affectionately calling Trinket's Cause of Death. It's basically 50/50 whump/kink where I generate a number corresponding to a prompt. This first whump prompt!

Day 23: Missing on the mission with Soap (whump)

Soap’s missing and it just might be your fault.

Soap was assigned to clear the houses to the left of the neighbourhood with you as his backup, something easy and almost mindless. Johnny and you have the highest scores when it comes to cleaning house. It’s nearly effortless as you clean room after room methodically and with a speed that makes rookies shake in their boots.

How you didn’t see the hostile hiding around the corner will piss you off for months- longer if you don’t find your partner in one piece. The hit to your skull dazed you instead of knocking you unconscious, but they’d dragged you into the bathroom’s tub before you could alert Johnny or anyone else.

The bastard tried to stab you to death but only managed to get the blade around your gear once before you disarmed and slaughtered him with his own blade. He’d tried to slip the blade between your ribs, but the fucker misjudged and just gouged right on top of your seventh right rib.

Climbing out of the tub filled with slippery blood with a burning stab wound was no easy feat, but you’d fought through worse. The hall sounds quiet, almost too quiet. Maybe Soap didn’t notice you get snatched.

The entire fight only took 45 seconds, but by the time you emerged into the hallway, breathing raggedly as adrenaline pumps through your veins, Johnny’s disappeared.

“Bravo 7-1?” You pant into the comms line when you don’t immediately see Soap. “Bravo 7-1, how copy?”

“What’s wrong, Bravo 7-2?” There’s Captain Price, ready and listening to comms as always. Always ready to help his team.

“I’m injured, Cap,” you pant out and touch your wound to see how bad it is. That’s a lot of blood. “Hostile got me in the ribs with a KA-BAR, lost track o’… fuck, of Johnny.”

You can almost hear Price bristle over comms at the knowledge that you’re hurt and Soap’s out of sight. “Sitrep, Sergeant. How’s the bleeding?”

You take another moment to consider, using the wall as a crutch while inching towards the direction Johnny went. “I’ll live… probably. Soap, where the fuck are you?”

No answer over the comms system and you can feel the tension building through the line between the rest of the 141.

“Johnny.” Ghost pops in, gruff and demanding an answer. “Report.”

Once again, no response. That’s a problem- Soap never misses a chance to talk to Ghost, even when he’s been injured. So he’s either incapacitated or separated from his comms, both of which are big problems as well.

“What do I do, Cap?” You ask, more worried about keeping your rifle up than applying pressure to the steadily bleeding wound in your side. “House isn’t cleared and there could be more hostiles.”

As Price deliberates, you make it to the left turn in the hallway, slumping against the wall as you peer down. Nothing but a bloody bootprint halfway down. It’s clear that it’s fresh, but how fresh?

The comms crackle and Price speaks up. “Clear the rest of the house. Ghost is repositioning and I’m sending Gaz to assist. If you don’t find Soap, we’ll reevaluate.”

That’s code for ‘go entirely off of Shepherd’s rules and find Johnny because we aren’t going anywhere without him’. Shepherd and the brass might want this mission done, but nothing’s happening without Soap. Each and every member of the 141 has gone against orders from above before and will do it again, especially for their teammates. For Johnny.

You stumble your way through the rest of the first and second floor, doing your best to stay silent and not alert any hostiles that you’re present and severely injured. Each step you feel a little more lightheaded and every second more concerned for Johnny and his uncharacteristic silence. Is he hurt? Is he unconscious? Is he-

The quiet steps behind you make you whirl around with your rifle ready to kill, but you go too far in your dizzy state and collapse forward, vertigo getting the best of you and sending you into someone’s chest with a startled ‘oof’.

“There ye are love, dinnae ken where ye went.”

“Johnny…?” Your voice comes out too dazed for your liking, but all you can think is you’re so lucky it was an ally and not a hostile and especially that it’s Johnny. “Why the fuck aren’t you answering comms? I was looking for… f… for you.”

Johnny shifts his grip on you, easily disarming and shuffling the rifle out of the way to properly keep you upright. He doesn’t feel as warm as normal, you notice almost dazedly. “Got in a wee tussle with some Irish bastard in the kitchen, took a hit an’ shattered my earpiece. The fuck happened tae ye, look like ye lost a fight with a shark.”

Fuck, when did you get so bad off? You didn’t check the fucking kitchen? It’s a miracle you lived long enough to even see the second floor.

That draws a weak laugh and your knees buckle forward, putting your whole weight into his chest and drawing an ‘oof’ of strain. “Jesus, bon. Give a lad some warning. Ye’re fucked, hm?”

You nod, the motion setting off a spinning in your head. “Got dragged into the bathroom, bas… bastard stabbed me. By th’ time I put him down, I couldn’t find you…”

Johnny tuts and eases you down to the floor, leaning you against the wall and arranging you so he can get a good look at your side. “Steamin’ Jesus, bon. Ye were looking for me an’ bleeding tae fucking death. Why didn’t ye put pressure on this, stubborn brat…”

His hand is on your ribs a moment later, the sudden pressure drawing a pained string of curse words that you didn’t even know went together. Johnny laughs and only presses down harder, intent on stemming the excessive bleeding. “Dinnae think I’ve ever heard it put quite that way, birdie.”

Soap’s other hand nonchalantly digs in your ear and plucks your comms free, popping it into his own ear without a care in the world. “Cap, it’s Johnny. Aye, I found 7-2. Lost my comms in a tussle sir, nothing’s wrong. ‘Cept birdie seems intent on bleeding out.”

“Don’t tell him that,” You hiss but Johnny only playfully covers your mouth with his hand, giving you a boyish wink and glancing around to make sure no other hostiles appear while he listens in on a conversation you’re not privy to.

You blink and suddenly Gaz is there as well, patting your cheek and looking down at you with those worried brown eyes. He softens some when you blink up at him, relieved. “There you are, love.”

“When’d you get here…” You mumble, the words slightly slurred. Didn’t you only blink? When did he sneak up? When did Soap move to your side, looking much more like a Sergeant at work than your teammate as both hands keep pressure on your side. His gaze is hard and focused, even as the cut on his eyebrow from his struggle bleeds into his eye.

“You passed out,” Kyle informs you and takes your rifle entirely, passing it to Soap. “Decided to take a nap and scare Johnny half to death. Think it’s time to get you home, hm?”

Johnny gives a scoff in the affirmative and helps Gaz get you up, both men ignoring the way your legs won’t hold your weight or how you curse in pain. “Jesus fuck son of a…. Be gentle.”

“Yes ma’am,” Gaz deadpans as he and Soap each take one side, leading you out of the house and to a waiting Price and Ghost who look entirely unimpressed. Their expressions both shift when they see the state you’re in. It’s easy to see how much they care once you know the men. The way Ghost’s jaw muscles ripple with frustration and worry or how Price immediately lights a new cigar.

You’re going to be in for the lecture your life… once you’re stitched up in the medbay. At least Johnny turned out to be okay.

[niccolites]

Ignore this if it’s not your vibe, but I’m a sucker for a zombie!au.

OKAY OKAY OKAY. I read your zombie apocalypse Johnny snippet AU. Reader’s husband is Gaz. It has to be Gaz. Perfectl husband Kyle, golden boy Kyle tied up in his morals. Johnny and Gaz are so close, they’ve been tied at the hip since they met. A bond forged in fire, cooled in blood. It doesn’t really matter what happens, only that when everything turns to shit, Gaz isn’t there. And Soap has to worry about you and your baby, so he does. He swore to Gaz so long ago that if anything happened to him that Johnny would look out for you. Johnny gets you to safety. Fuck everyone else, he’ll make sure you and your baby are alive and well. He doesn’t care what he has to do, who gets hurt in the process. He tells you all about the ideas he has, a farm, somewhere safe. Where your baby, his baby, could cry and no undead would come running. A place that’s warm with enough food for you to never worry, a place where he can give you and your kids, his kids, life you all deserved.

But Gaz inevitably comes back. Walks out of hell and straight into your arms. And Soaps is filled with an emotion he cannot name. Yes, he’s glad Kyle is alive, fuck, of course he is. But what has Kyle done to keep you alive? Has Kyle stayed awake for days to ensure you can rest, scavenged until his hands bleed to ensure you eat, taken down threats with nothing but his teeth and claws to ensure you are never afraid? Kyle doesn’t understand that the world has changed, that they have to change with it. That they have to become monsters to ensure that you never do. Kyle doesn’t know what Johnny has sacrificed for you. How much of himself he has carved away to keep you fed.

Maybe Johnny and Kyle develop some insane psychosexual thing where Johnny is obsessed with corrupting Kyle to ensure he’s the one other person he can rely on, the one other person who he can trust to keep you and your babies safe. And if Kyle can’t live up to that? Johnny has killed for you before, and you’ve lived without Gaz for this long, you’ll learn to cope without him again.

i will actually commission u to write a full piece of this PLEASE this is so good

the slip between ur gaz's wife, gaz's baby to HIS wife, HIS baby.....

gaz who still wants to be the man you think he is, kind and gentle vs johnny who is happy to let you see the blood that he's spilled in devotion to you....i've breached containment

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

So I was just rewatching Bones, and towards the end Brennan (heavily pregnant at the time) called her baby's father and was like "hey this is embarrassing but uhhhhhh I'm trapped on the floor and I can't get up. You're here, in the same building, right? Please help..." (...well, we never got to hear what she said, but that's what happened, so 😂)

I bring this up because I just had a funny thought:

That scenario, but Frank Langdon x Heavily Pregnant!Reader

(Like...he's mid-shift, his back may or may not be twinging and he desperately needs a lunch break, when ring ring "hey honey this is so embarrassing but uh. I'm stuck on the floor--nonono I'm fine, our baby's fine, I just can't find the leverage to get up. I'm so sorry but uh, please...help???")

(Poor man's probably out the door before Reader can even finish, forgetting to notify anyone bc his wife and baby are in danger he needs to help-- (not really, Reader literally just needs a hand lmao). Robby's only a little annoyed (but amused. mostly amused tbh) when Frank shows back up with wifey in tow, demanding a full workup to make sure she and baby are okay.)

I’ve Fallen (For You)

main masterlist | the pitt masterlist

summary: you call your husband, stuck in quite a predicament 

pairing: dr. frank langdon x female heavily pregnant!wife!reader

rating: PG-13 

word count: 1.0k

warnings: reader is heavily pregnant (obv), nothing else i think

timeline: set before the show

author’s note: thank you for the request anon, i had so much fun writing this!

Langdon’s shift was nearly halfway through and he was counting the seconds till he could rush home. Rush home to you, the love of his life—his very pregnant wife.

His back had been screaming at him all day but he’d been ignoring it. He knew he should’ve paid for some damn movers, but he had opted to help his parents all on his own. He would’ve asked for your help, but you had just found out you were pregnant and he didn’t want to put that on your shoulders. Now several months later, his back was killing him.

Nothing he couldn’t handle, though.

“Robby, I’m taking a quick lunch break,” Langdon informed his boss before grabbing a sandwich from the cart. He just needed to sit down for two minutes and he’d be back to his chipper self. 

“Alright, three minutes max, Dr. Langdon,” Robby said.

“Understood,” Frank replied.

Just as he sat down his phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Hey honey,” he answered the call. “Work’s been a bitch today, excited to curl up in bed and watch crap TV.”

“First off, how dare you call my favorite show ‘crap TV’ second… I need your help.”

“What? Why? What’s wrong?” Langdon asked quickly, kind of beginning to panic.

“I’ve sorta… fallen… and can’t get up…?”

“You’ve… huh?”

“This is so embarrassing,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to your husband. “I’m stuck on the floor.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, the baby’s fine. I just can’t seem to find the leverage to get up.” You sighed. “I’m so sorry Frank but please could you… help?”

“I’ll be there in ten,” he said. “Love you, bye.”

“Love you more, bye.”

**

When Langdon got home, he found you lying on the hardwood floor of your living room. He reached out his hand and helped you up quickly.

“How’d this happen?” he asked as he pulled you into an awkward hug, your overstretched belly pressed against his abdomen.

“I guess you could say I fell for you,” you replied, wanting to break the tension so he didn’t worry about you.

“You’re hilarious,” he said flatly. He soon broke away from the hug so he could get a good look at you. “Any dizziness? Nausea? Blurred vision?”

“No? Well nausea yes, duh, but that’s what the Zofran is for.”

“Follow my finger,” he said and held his pointer finger up for you to follow as he moved it from left to right and back again. “You probably don’t have a concussion,” he stated.

“I know I don’t have a concussion,” you laughed it off. “I didn’t hit my head, Frank, I just slipped and couldn’t get back up.”

“Still, we should head to The Pitt and have Dr. Collins look at you, just to be safe.”

“I don’t need an ultrasound, hun, I’m fine.”

“Nope, you’re coming to the hospital with me, c’mon.”

“Let’s take separate cars though, I don’t wanna be stuck in ‘The Pitt’ while you save lives for hours,” you said, using air quotes to be more dramatic.

“One of us can Uber home,” he protested. “C’mon, let’s go.”

**

When you got to the hospital, Langdon guided you through the traffic of people to get you to Heather.

He called out her name when he saw her.

“Mrs. Langdon! How lovely to see you. How are you?” Dr. Collins exclaimed. 

“I’m doing pretty good, though this pregnancy is kicking my ass.” You smiled and gave her a quick, small hug.

Langdon hurriedly explained what happened to you as Dr. Robby walked up.

“Mrs. Langdon! To what do we owe the pleasure?” he asked, a huge smile plastered on his face. “Don’t tell me you’re here to drag Frank home early?”

“No, Robby, nothing like that,” you chuckled. “Frank insisted I come over–”

“She slipped on the hardwood floor and couldn’t stand back up, she had to call me to go and help her up,” Frank exclaimed.

“He is making it sound much worse than it was,” you said. “I’m fine, really.”

“Well an ultrasound wouldn’t hurt,” Robby said, assuming it was what Frank wanted. 

“See? Told you so!” Frank nudged your arm playfully.

“Really? You’re going with ‘I told you so’?” you laughed.

“Collins, please?” Robby gestured for her to get going with the ultrasound as quickly as possible.

“Of course, right this way,” Heather replied.

Frank walked behind you as you followed Dr. Collins to a space where you could do a quick ultrasound. 

You sat down on the chair and Heather started the ultrasound.

“Your baby looks good,” she said. 

“You’re sure?” Frank asked.

“Yep, healthy baby boy,” Collins replied.

“See? Told you so,” you said smugly, making your husband laugh and shake his head.

“Can I see your flashlight?” he asked Dr. Collins and she handed him the small device. “Look at my nose,” he said.

“Can I look at those gorgeous blue eyes instead?” you asked, wiggling your brows up and down. 

He couldn’t help the sheepish laugh as a slight blush began to warm his cheeks. It didn’t matter how long you two had been together, you still made his heart skip a beat when you said things like that.

He continued with the quick exam to be sure you didn’t have a concussion.

“Babe, you’re treating me like one of your patients,” you chuckled, brushing away his hands.

“Fine, I’ll let Dr. Collins give you the full once over just to be safe. Heather, you alright with that?”

“I really must restate there’s zero need for all of this, honey,” you said.

“I’d be happy to,” Heather said. 

“Thanks,” Langdon said. “I’m gonna get back to work, call me when you’re all done. Love you.”

“Love you too,” you grumbled before he kissed you goodbye.

**

“She’s perfectly fine. Slight bruising around her tailbone, but nothing that won’t heal on its own,” Dr Collins told Langdon about ten minutes later when she was finished with the brief exam.

“Thank you–” Frank was cut off by his phone buzzing in his pocket. He answered it quickly, seeing it was from you.

“Frank,” you started, “my water just broke.”